Coming Up Next! A potentially violent day at the park and more!

My sweet Gracie has updated her blog. Please check it out and if you have time, be a sweet and leave a comment. It would so make her day.

When she says" it all happened at City Park" she alludes to so much more then sticks.

Like how I saw plastic surgery in my future courtesy a large and angry mother on the playground who took extreme exception to me politely asking her equally (yet proportionately) large son to desist from beating up my quite small one. (My child had made the dire mistake of "tagging" her kid..in a game of tag. Clearly, my child is out of control).

Her kid appeared to be a hefty 12 year old while mine is a small (and non-aggressive) 8 year old. She found my assertions that it was therefore not logical to assume that my child "had started it" and hers was merely "acting in self defense" most offensive.

Anyway, back to the arts. The masterpiece she displays in the photo above was a trash tree. Something she made from a twig, leaves, flowers and some sweet wrappers found at the bottom of the picnic bag while she endured the supreme boredom of sitting on a blanket on a beautiful night with her parents listening to a live band. Poor child. The stories she will have for her therapist. This is my attempt to cheer her up. It did not work. Why is it that we think tickling makes people happy? I personally detest being tickled. I find it painful and intrusive. This child actually begs to be tickled but it does not lead to long term happiness.














The arrival of her fellow trash to treasure artist playmate did the trick though..

Have I told you that Finny has dubbed himself "The Next Michael Jackson" He has believed unwaveringly since as long as he could talk (and perhaps before, but we'll never know) in his destiny in rock stardom. Michael has become his muse. He takes his craft seriously. You can't tell but he's working on some moooooves here. Focusing on his future, while the other children unwisely waste their time playing.













If the rockstar thing doesn't work out, there's always the family business of professional gambling..













Back to my girl. Here she is typing her blog. On the side table you can see the flowers she picked (augmented by the silk ones she gathered...

(the mirror is old rather then dirty. Also? Exceptionally unflattering-to fun-house proportions)




















To beautify my room after she spent all morning helping me to clean every last corner of it. As evidenced by the bottle of Windex in the background.













Those sparkling windows folks, could never have happened without her support. (the last two photos were taken by her, too). Daughters can be more complicated then sons, but I'm definitely glad that she's mine.

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