Driven to Distraction, Cheered by Poems
Eh. The weekend's been a bit of a bust so far. Hopefully it will turn around. Last night we headed out, had a quick dinner, then ran into friends and had a drink with them. Then we just got in the car and just drove because it was a bit too early to head to the show and I didn't feel like having another drink. So we drove out in the fields as the sun started to set and it felt wonderful. Then the phone range and it was a sobbing Owen. A bit of a babysitting debacle and I guess I should have known better. I should have gotten our wonderful regular babysitter but I know she gets up early on Saturdays and I thought this would be o.k. Sigh. It wasn't. So we ended up heading home where I got Owen calmed down, sent the babysitter home and tearfully sent Ernie on to his way to see our beloved Grant.
This morning we headed out to the farmers' market where upon our youngest drove us insane. We came back home and turned on the a/c because it was a lot warmer than we'd thought it would be. I decided to sort through some stacks of paperwork and came across the humongous stack of sympathy cards we received after Judi died. I hadn't been able to let them go before this but I decided it was time, sorting through them to set aside just a few very special ones. What was I thinking? Not the best way to cheer oneself up I must say. I was feeling rather teary and dour so I grabbed the book of poems that Leo had brought home from school and I must say it pretty much is taking care of the tears.... My boy hates to write so I know these were WAY under duress.
page one:
Inside my heart lives....
Music, video games, my family
I know it's short
Don't bother me about it.
page two: Object Poem:
It's small, 8 studs on top
it's been around for 52 years
extremely popular
What is it?
page three: Place Poem:
Low tide, high tide
only water height is different
the sand gets annoying
the sun is always high
it's good for summer vacation.
It's Maine.
page four:
I have nothing to fill this page so just skip it
page five:
I have no other poems.
The lyrical way he finishes the first poem with "don't bother me about it" just kills me. My sweet peas.
Here's Owen l e i s u r e l y eating his ice cream while we waited at the farmers' market.