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This question strikes fear in the heart of a woman whose highest artistic achievement is a stick figure. But Daniel spent the last two weeks at school in a unit focused on art and has loved the exploration. Yet another benefit of his mornings away from me, since he'd never get any artistic instruction worth a hoot from me! The culmination of these two weeks was an art show this afternoon at the school. We got up from naps a bit early and headed back down to see the "gallery" and have a snack with Daniel's class.
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Of all his efforts, though, the most entertaining to us was the title he gave this piece (I think you'll have to click on it to get an image large enough to read the mounted label):
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This was our second afternoon return trip to school this week. On Wednesday we went back so Edward could join his class in sending the five-year-olds off to kindergarten with a small but sweet graduation ceremony. He's already talking about how "next time it's August I'll go to kindergarten." How quickly that will come. Actually though, I found myself a bit melancholy as the first day of school approached. I truly do not dwell on the "what ifs" and "should have beens" on a daily basis, but there are certain milestones that amplify our loss of Will, and this was one of them. We decided to follow the example of another couple we heard speak about their loss a few years back, purchasing a full set of school supplies and donating them to our local elementary school. As friends with whom I'd shared my first pregnancy posted pictures of their beaming kindergartners on Facebook, it gave me some comfort to know that a child who might not have had a backpack, nap rug, reusable water bottle and other items that their classmates brought from home, was outfitted in memory of Will.
The gloom doesn't linger long though. How could it when we're surrounded by this type of exuberance?
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Another fictional character who is popular in our house right now: Lentil, from the Robert McCloskey book of the same title. It's about a boy who can't sing or whistle so he learns to play the harmonica. We have a plastic harmonica that the boys like to toot around. Daniel recently asked me if I know how to play "the re-monica." On Sunday morning, while I was in the shower and John was patiently trying to help Daniel in the bathroom downstairs, Edward started calling down asking if he could play his harmonica in the bathtub upstairs. (Lentil does this because "the tone is improved 100 percent.) John managed to put him off until the downstairs bathroom business was finished, but eventually, boy, pillow and harmonica were all laid out in the bathtub.
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Later that day, we celebrated what would be a brief reprieve from the oppressive humidity with lunch al fresco. We had four lovely warm days/cool nights with no air conditioning, but we're back to swamp now.
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