Library Adventures, etc.

It's been much longer than I meant to go without posting. I've actually been wondering if I would even post again 'til I graduate, because nothing ever seems to be finished, and I try to wait till my work is done to post...so much for being a good girl. Life goes on, in spite of itself. In spite of school, which, though a strain, is really quite enjoyable in general. What will I do without it?

I think I'll:

1. Keep learning
2. Attempt to help others learn :)

This morning, instead of having quizzes and spelling lessons, etc, Bronwyn, Rodgy, I went to the public library with Deb and the other kids. AHHH!! There are so many books! What do you pick? There is honestly some scary stuff in that library, and you can't just go letting them devour the shelves, as some kids (like my sister) want to do at certain stages of reading. Once my Dad found a book in the kids section called "How to Sue Your Parents." Ouch. So anyway, having left the handy dandy list at home, I was sort of at a loss as to what to help the kids find... Yes, there are those time honored classics I loved when I was knee-high to a grasshopper, but it seems that a mere ten years has totally uncoolified the cool books. I didn't think I was that old, honestly. Really, though, if you can just get them to peer past the covers...the classics are still classic. A few we ended up with were: Georgie the Friendly Ghost, Heckedy Peg (gotta love the illustrations!), Meet Felicity, Encyclopedia Brown, The Three Trins (by the guy who wrote Babe). Remembering how that last one used to crack me up, I recommended it to Rodge. Taking it from me with an Eeyorish expression, he appealed to a higher court (his mother) concerning the injustices inflicted upon him. "Do I have to read this?" The verdict was...yes. (Wicked inward laughter welling up inside me) Just you wait. Its gonna be great. Oh, the adventures of reading.

It really is difficult ot figure out what a very intelligent, pessimistic, no-nonsense third-almost-fourth grade boy would be interested in reading. Never having been in that spot, I wouldn't know. I'm all excited about introducing the likes of Grimms Fairytales, but somehow I'm thinking that's not going to cut it :)

Yesterday I got to experience an Ethiopian meal at geography...Mrs. Burklin had made some injera. (I think that's what you call it) We sat at a low table instead of the [more authentic] floor, and ate with our fingers, scooping up the chicken and sauce with the dark brown tortilla shaped bread. I hadn't had a good finger-eating fix since India, and thoroughly enjoyed it. Made Connor jealous. Sadly, I always compare everything to India, (is it more Indian or more Western?), so while the meal was African... I was thinking of India. Connor and I think we need to have an India night and make curry, chapati, dal, and chai...use our Indian chai cups and golden elephant table cloth, dress up in kurtas and stuff...I could wear my new jangly anklet...it could be quite fun. Oh, and don't forget the gulab jamons...a sumptuous syrupy dessert. Well, if we do it, he will have to help cook, is all.

On Sunday we went to the Daffodil Farms...it was beautiful, and pretty cold and windy. We bummed around and took pictures, etc. We also happened to see Bob the Doughnut Man. No, that isn't a tv show. He happens to be the guy who works at (runs?) Shipley's Donuts
(the best in town, most definitely), an old family aquaintance. And I do mean old. Not that he is extremely ancient, but he was probably the first person my dad met when he moved here, several years before I was born. I don't know about the first...but, you know, it sounds good. That doughnut shop is a special place. First Dad went there, then he'd take my mom, and then they would bring their little tykes in...awww...legacy...heritage...So we've kind of half known this guy for years. Not that I had actually talked to him before, but I remember when he used to throw flour at us as we watched him knead the donuts from behind the window, and occasionally my dad sees him around town. He remembers searching the garbage for my mom's keys at the shop. It's just extremely wierd that he's a real person who goes to the daffodil gardens just like us. He seems mythical. Like the doughnut man of yore...