That little green book you see is called, This is Just to Say: Poems of Apology and Forgiveness. I had to do a double take at the library, to make sure I was seeing the title correctly. It is collection of poems written by a sixth grade class, and then the responses to them. Beautiful and Funny and Poignant.
This time we treated, Follow Follow as a game of riddles. One of us would read the poem, and the rest would have to guess which fairy tale it was created for. I think that's the whole point of the book, but the game deeply satisfied Fiona, who is always asking me for a riddle, at which my mind goes completely blank. So now she can look back on her childhood with fond memories of her riddling mother. Mission accomplished. Thank you, Marilyn Singer.
Tonight is one of those Friday nights that I am actually looking forward to. It feels like it has been a while with March threatening to freeze us to death. We are dismissing Fiona early from to school to go to one of those crazy trampoline parks. There was a sale running, and a friend going, and with sheets of ice as far as the eye can see; I am more excited about this than I care to admit. And then we come home to pizza, and root beer, and licorice and Dr. Doolittle. Fo' shizzle! And this is just even more amplified because I actually got my brother's wedding gift in the mail a good three hundred and sixty days earlier than etiquette required me to. Talk about peace of mind. I found the most amazing, cast iron candle holders at Patch NYC in the south end of Boston. They were exactly what I was hoping to find, along with one of most memorable shopping experiences I have had in years.
And on that note, I bid you, adieu. I hope that something in your own evening tonight brings you rest.