Missing

This is Baby Bunny.

One day, she lost her diaper. Remember her diaper? 

It looked like this:

It was a catastrophe. So Kate made a Missing poster. Two, in fact, and taped them in high-traffic areas of the house (the living room and the hallway to her bedroom).

They worked.

Because within 24 hours, Baby Bunny's modesty was restored.

Which proves that Missing posters really work.

Nobody would believe me if I told them, without hard evidence, how the mind of a 5-year-old worked. Unless they themselves had 5-year-olds living under their roofs. In which case, we'd all form support groups of Parents Of Five-Year-Olds and giggle together.

The Color Girls - Jenna's Book Debut

Kate and Jenna are in a delightful phase of writing stories. These are so much fun to read, not only because of the charming illustrations but also because the girls are experts on suspense. This is Jenna's first fully written-and-illustrated story: the Color Girls, which are a fellowship of superheroines comprising herself, Kate and their two girl cousins, Grace and Molly. Read her text first and then, if necessary, my translation-captions. Enjoy!

The Story of the Color Girls

So one day, Grace was walking in the forest. When Wanda the witch was waiting for her.

Then Wanda jumped out of her hiding place! Grace knew just what to do. She turned into her superhero!

Then she flew home to warn her sisters. Then they all turned into superheroes!

Then they all flew to catch Wanda destroying an apple tree! Then they flew back home to talk about how to capture Wanda.

Then at home they discussed how to capture Wanda. No one knew how to capture her. Then Grace finally said "We could bring her to the forest".

They all agreed to bring her to the forest. Then Jenna flew to Wanda's house.

Wanda said, "OK. But do not get in trouble because I am not helping you."

They told Wanda to stay on the bench. She waited and waited. They did not come back!

So Grace was the Queen of the Week and Wanda still waited. They lived happily ever after.

The End

Resuming

Here's an ugly, messy, distracting photo of my goggles hanging from the brake handle of my bike.

It's summer now. Finally.

And I've resumed last summer's bike-swim-run (not in the same workout) exercise program. Which means running outdoors (helloooo allergies) and waking up at 7 am to bike to the pool to do laps. It all sounds wonderfully accomplished and healthy and fitness personified etc. Except that I am half-asleep when I hit the water and still a bit groggy even by the time I bike back home at 8 am. I am sooo not a morning person.

This year at the pool, a special paid pass is required to do laps. I grumbled a bit about this but bought it anyway since I don't have an alternative pool. On the day I began, I discovered why we were being charged to swim: there were swimming instructors standing around the pool, giving people tips and challenging them to Really Work Out. Recognized one of them as Emily's favorite swimming teacher from last summer. Groaned because I now couldn't swim incognito and half-asleep. Can anything be worse than waking up before the cows to exercise? Answer: yes - being scrutinized while exercising so one feels excruciatingly self-conscious while being half-conscious. 

After we'd exchanged pleasantries and updated each other on what the other had been doing since last summer, he said, "So, want to work out?"

"No. I want to sink to the bottom like a slug and just drift until 2 pm and I'm finally conscious." I thought. But I made myself lie and say, "Okay."

I never even got past the first of 10 exciting sets of laps: 200 m freestyle.

And with my elbows in the wrong configuration, at that.

And breathing from the wrong side of my face.

While everyone in the other lanes was torpedoing back and forth like they were training for the Olympics. 

Clearly, those people were morning people. Why can't there be lap swims at 11 pm? I'd be the most enthusiastic swimmer in the pool! I might even reach the other end without drowning!

Ah, well. I was so intimidated after that I almost didn't want to go back. But I did, a week later.  Emily's ex-teacher wasn't there the second morning - another instructor was who didn't know me, so I gleefully slipped into the lane next to an elderly lady performing a meandering upside-down breaststroke and did my own thing. Lovely, peaceful ... and boring. Then, suddenly, I realized I missed having tips shouted at me. And maybe I didn't mind having the angle of elevation of my chin corrected after all. Or being reminded of the fingertips-first-in-the-water rule. 

Bah. 

So maybe next week when I return, I'll try that workout again. 

And make it to the other end of the pool, fully awake.

Soldierisms

Monday was Memorial Day here in the US. Kate drew a card for "the soldiers" and had me write a message of thanks in it. This conversation followed:

Me: How are the soldiers going to get this card, Kate?

K: We can go to the graveyard and give it to them. (A pause while she considered an important hitherto-overlooked detail) - But the wind might blow it away so I need to use a bit of tape to stick it down.

Jenna: But the soldiers are dead!

Kate: Mum, are the soldiers in heaven?

Me: Some of them probably are. 

Kate: Then we can give it to God and He can give it to them.

Edited later to add: I found the card! Here it is:

Stuck In My Head - Turn Your Eyes

A modern version of that beautiful old classic, 
by Nichole Nordeman.

Tea-ism

Kate, pulling up my teabag to peer at it:

"It looks like a stingray with food in it."

Photo of the Day

from a few days ago, when it was a glorious evening for our first official summer stroll of the year.