The way to love someone
is to lightly run your finger over that person's soul
until you find a crack,
and then gently pour your love into that crack.
~Keith Miller

Thursday, February 3, 2011


I sleep with my phone tucked right under the edge of my pillow ... it makes a great flashlight and sometimes I wake up wanting to read a bit, or just look at a favorite picture ... something to put a smile on the search for sweet dreams. Usually, I do not feel like I have to set the alarm. There are plenty of others in my home whose rise and shine routine sounds the revelry. Today was a field-trip day for my youngest though, and we needed to be at the school for a prompt ^:$%, opps, 6:45 departure. Last night it seemed like a good idea to select the firehouse alert as the alarm tone ... why I do not know ... I hear can hear the ice machine in the kitchen restocking from a sound sleep ... in the past I have thought the cricket chime was enough ... my first thought this morning: something is on fire, maybe even my hair!



It was a great day. Take your mom to school day ... opportunities to act as a chaperon are dwindling ... as she reminds me, she's not a baby anymore. Actors dressed in period pieces did a fine job of bringing American history to life as they interacted with the children (who were given scripts to read, or invited to ad lib) at several stops (mostly outside in the freezing rain) helping them see the chain of events that led up to the American Revolution ... Continental Congress ... the ride of Paul Revere ... The Declaration of Independence. The children participated in colonial style dancing and pretended to load and fire a musket ... a real one was fired in to the woods raising a large flock of perplexed birds ... the kids loved it. I loved the message they were given at the last stop ... they will inherit this great country ... and it will be their duty to become informed citizens as they exercise the privilege of participatory governance.

It was sleeting there for most of the day, and the indoor shelter that was provided for a lunch area was quite welcoming, cold concrete floors and all. (Would those hand warmer packets work in boots ... my feet thought they were up in the freezing levels!) Seeing the students happily talking and laughing together, trading peanutbutter cookies for cheetos, was fun. The melting pot is still simmering. I felt thankful for the brave hearts that forged our freedom and those who have protected it along the way ... and maybe even a little more optimistic then usual about what the future holds for these innocents.

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