Not Much to Say

This picture reminds me of the coast near Saint Brieuc, France. It's a quaint little town that I love, full of narrow cobblestone streets and small bakeries. Mmmm. Pain au chocolat or a small brioche.

It's rainy today. The local NPR station is on their last day of their fund drive. They sound a tad desperate. It may be that the recession is catching up to them. Who knows. That said, it seems like the last day always pulls some procrastinators out of the woodwork.

Maybe it's a good day for some hot cocoa. Some poetry. A nap.

Or nothing at all.

Or

maybe an ice cream sundae.

Because it's rainy and gray and a little blah, so really, why not?

Root beer and Other Memories

I am drinking a small glass of root beer tonight in honor of my grandfather who passed away a week ago.

He was quite remarkable in his quiet, humble way.

He spent the last year of his life here in Utah where my mom and my aunt cared for him after the passing of my grandma last January. It was wonderful to have him around. And while my parent's have never kept their refrigerator stocked with any kind of soda, this past year there was usually some root beer in the fridge for him. He was quite fond of it and would often ask for just a little bit more.

Because he was a WWII veteran they played Taps at his burial on Friday. It was poignant and beautiful and something I hope I always remember.

Cheers, Grandpa.

An Overheard Conversation

Neighbor Girl Who Lives Across the Street, in 2nd grade: The Easter Bunny isn't real.

My Younger Daughter, in kindergarten: The Easter Bunny isn't real (!?!?!???!!!)

Neighbor Girl: My mom told me.

{Aside from the editor: And obviously forgot to mention the important caveat about keeping mouth shut around younger children regarding such topics.}

My Older Daughter, in 2nd grade (and coming to the rescue): It's not polite to talk like that about other peoples' beliefs.

Neighbor Girl: Oh, sorry. I was just sort of in a bad mood.