Marchons, marchons

Well, I guess time goes on, anyway; I'm not sure I can make a good case for my blog title today. It's been a year today since Kibbee died. I still miss her - cried for a while once I realized today was the day - and it seems simultaneously like less and more than a year. I love the others, but they lack the smallth and brownth. And the persistence about my lap, and the daintiness. And okay, maybe not the batting always, but right now, I miss it.