Important take-away: love doesn't lie. If you find it, keep it. That is, if you're the sort who is after it to begin with. If not, well...our blog will be confusing.
Old souls congregate around new beginnings; it's just where we can find each other. So new from used-to can be understood more deeply as permanent from ever-was, see?
We took turns pulling each other in our wagon today on our way to celebrate and we went to our favorite coffeeshop to get some groovy, warm, complicated drinks. Lucky for Hulk&Baby there were no trolls (AKA professoriate) in there today. There are pretty things and birds and books and smilers that dwell on university campuses. But the frowner trolls are saddening and for kids with squishy hearts it can just be too much sometimes. But not today. Today we had a wagon ride and shared chocolate and sometimes we were crazy and didn't know why.
Later Hulk's Pop, Cap'n, came over and everybody took Piggie out for a walk. Piggie rollerskates 'most everywhere. Good times. Then Baby played a game for awhile where she laughs and cries at the same time. Now she's gone and Hulk misses her. He is going to watch a cowboy movie and fall asleep, which is fine because it makes him happy to think that Baby is getting lots of writing done. Tomorrow, they'll go for a long wagon ride and rescue a MagicOwlGhost so there should be good reporting to come on that one.
The day is over so the explanation about the tractor beams in Baby's eyes will wait for another day. And Hulk's eyes just itch. This time of year he has to fill the wagon with berries and acorns and stuff and the dust and mold and soon-coming pollen get him all itchy. Sometimes when his eyes get puffy he bumps into stuff and falls down on the way home. Other times, he is surprisingly graceful...all depends on how low the clouds are flying and whether his head is stuck in them or not.
The thing to remember about magical people--people like us who talk to angels and hear them talking back--is that we're grow- ups, kids and ghosts of a sort, all at once.
Happy short anniversary, Baby. Tomorrow I am going to make you some jewelry out of rust and bones.
-n&c-
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