The dictionary definition of “cute,” according to Merriam-Webster, is to have a youthful and pleasing countenance, and I suppose by that standard, my granddaughter is “cute.”

I’m not into the cute grandfather-baby thing, it is a strange way to judge or label an infant. I just don’t think of that when I look at her. I see the intensity of her eyes, she is beginning to lift her head up and take in the world.

I can’t say “cute” matters much to me, or if I really know what is. Smiles do matter.

Maria and I went to New York City today, she had things to see and I met with my editor. Then we went to Brooklyn to take Robin and Emma out to lunch. Both of us were sick this week, so we didn’t hold or touch the baby. I drank a bottle of cough suppressant and felt like a prune.

I can see a distinct change in Robin, she has a distinct smile now, and she turned it on me several times. I much appreciate seeing the connection she and Emma already have with one another. I don’t know if she and I have a connection yet, unless it is simply biological. I did like to be smiled at.

I’m not sure when I will see Robin again. Emma is talking about renting a car and bringing her up to the farm, I think she is eager for Robin to see the animals and breathe some country air. Things are intense there, but settling down a bit, everybody is getting some sleep.

I am happy to be a photographer, it is fun to take these photos. We got up at 4 a.m. to make an early train, and the two hours at my publisher were productive and exhausting. We talked about how to promote “Talking to Animals” and also about how to write “Lessons From Bedlam Farm.’

Strange to be back doing the New York publishing thing, but also nice.  I hope the coughing subsides tonight, if not, I will have to have it checked out. I am the same age as Hillary Clinton, and she reminds me to not bull my way through things.