Just before Thanksgiving, JT finally agreed to read the first book in the Harry Potter series. I'd been urging this idea on him for years and he resisted, explaining to me, "I've already seen the movies." But once he got started on the series, he was like a junkie, eagerly turning page after page, recapping the most exciting elements of the books, announcing that the movies weren't nearly as good, and negotiating for a just a few more minutes of reading at every bedtime. He was a pretty good reader before, but this development has been remarkable for the passion and excitement it's engendered. I know that I'm hardly the first parent to remark on the power of the Harry Potter books but, wow, I really had no idea. It's truly remarkable. He's reading book five right now and expects to finish before the night is over. Book six is at the ready on his nightstand, prepared to absorb him with the magic of it all.
As I contemplate the damage of first 6 months of the Cheetoh Kleptocrat’s rule, I cannot fathom what the next 6 will bring us. I grow weary of the vigilant fear that is occasioned by this president. Time to exercise the 25th amendment, y’all. I like to read (I just finished Jane Austen’s Emma), garden, cook, and talk.
I love… baby bunnies, summer blooms, morning coffee, flip flops and toe rings, planning history lessons, Harriet Tubman, enchanted fairy gardens, farm stands, homegrown tomatoes, thinking about my bulletin board, crisp white shirts, leisurely summer days, mowing the lawn, pinning my hair in a bun, lush green hostas, shiny wood floors, adventures with T, and a sweaty workout.