Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Turn, turn, turn

Our first snow was today. It wasn't a lot, just a few pretty flakes, just a few minutes, just enough to reassure that time is indeed marching forward, seasons are indeed turning over. Winter is sending its bugle boys forth to herald its impending arrival.

Seasons come, and they come again. E has been learning about the seasons in school. She knows their order but loves the familiarity of their recitation.

What season is it, Mama?
Fall.
And then what?
Winter.
And then what is it after that?
Spring.
And then what is it after that?
Summer.
And what is it after that?
Fall again.

This answer challenges her equanimity. As a child, as a creature of the world subjected to so many rules imposed by the bigger people, she loves orderly. She loves predictable. She loves routine. She loves childhood tropes.

She loves Fall, winter, spring, summer. She does not love as much Fall, winter, spring, summer, Fall Again.

Wraparound isn't very tidy, and it makes for burdensome recitation.

But the answer holds: it's fall again. It's late fall again, E's third late fall on earth, her third late fall in her daycare center. That means: Thanksgiving curriculum. And for some reason that means: pasta necklace.


Last week E brought home her 3rd Annual Pasta Necklace and hung it with the other two on her closet doorknob.

As Charlie Brown surely said, Happiness is late-fall noodle jewels.

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