I now have heard the story and seen some pictures. She's beautiful, of course, tiny with a full head of dark hair. I got one picture of her being held by her father. He looks exhausted and she is asleep on his shoulder. His hand is on her back and looks to be as large as she is.

My daughter, her mother, is doing well. She is tired, and sore, and swears there will be no brother or sister until she forgets the negative side of having a baby.

Now I have to count the months until I can go to England to meet Sabra and play with her.