a vignette

i'd like to enroll Ally in French classes, i thought. my french friend is organizing classes at Liv's preschool. Ally is curious about languages and often asks me how to say this word or that in French. why not? i thought. aside from the money, i mean.

MONEY! right.

but then a stranger came along and offered to bash the side of my car in exchange for French classes. sure, i said! you're just in time! may i offer you a baseball bat? and so the problem was solved. Tres bien, said i. Merci, said Ally.

actually, it went like this:

Me: i'm not sure French classes are in the budget after all.
Bim: a woman just backed into my car with her car. her insurance is sending a check.
Me: let's use it for French classes. i can live with a dent.
Bim: fine with me.
Ally: Merci. Maintenant je parle francais comme une francophone.

Voila.

it's nice when things work out that way. strange, but nice.

The art of losing isn't hard to master;

so many things seem filled with the intent

to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Elizabeth Bishop gets it. she gets it. Lovey was filled with the intent to be lost. i knew that. i knew it. and still i didn't take the time to pull out a sharpie and write our phone number on it.

Liv is sad but she taking it better than i am, actually. "Blue Lovey" is filling in for "Pink Lovey" until "Rabbit Lovey" arrives. she has long, silky ears. Liv seems to understand that this is no disaster.

'Turn around and she's a young girl going out of the door.'

September 5, 2012. First day of First Grade. (and Grandma Ceri's birthday)

The longsuffering big sister waiting for the rest of us to get it together.

Awkward extreme closeup. How do you want your hair today? 'Side pony,' of course.

Liv is not quite ready for prime time.

Sleepy-time Liv.
It looks like I'm the only parent hovering but really they're all lined up around the room. A surprise rain shower this morning made the room feel like a sauna. 'Who cares! I got my own desk!'

I guess I'm glad Liv came along...I guess. She did make us a little late, so I haven't completely forgiven her.

My neck looks pretty weird. Who cares! 'You got your own desk!'

Last year at this time she was a 4 year-old Kindergartner.