Monday, February 8, 2010

Irony

Son has danced the Snow Dance, invoking all manner of precipitation. But there are more types of snow than dreamt of in his philosophy, and the kind he perhaps invoked is the one that doesn't stick. Or even stay frozen once it hits the ground. It has "snowed," steadily, all day long. Quite pretty, and very visible from inside our respective (oh so un-cancelled) schools.

On another note, tomorrow is one of my fav classes in the Romantic period: the ballad. I get to take in my ipod. Woo hoo!

2 comments:

  1. I liked all my stuffed animals, my blue wagon, my fire truck, and my collection of horse statues - as well as a baby doll or two.

    I'm deep into Chapter 3 of Bluebeard...loving the details of how translation has affected the story. I found the preface pretty slow going, but the actual book is going well. Your ability to organize the vast amounts of information amaze me.

    The fishy drawing sounds very cute - in spite of hubbys interpretation!
    Sock Knitter

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  2. "But there are more types of snow than dreamt of in his philosophy." Love it! Now I'm picturing your son as a tiny Horatio.

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