Happy New Year!
This morning, I lay in bed waiting to hear the first sound of people coming down the stairs and going to the kitchen. Of course it is Hebe I am listening for. Of all of the people in the house, she is the one who is the most fun for me to talk to. She is the one who requires full body and mind engagement from me.
Laying in bed I was wondering if when she is up and eating her breakfast, if I would come into the kitchen saying Fee Fi Fo Fum, or if I would just whisper it through the door in an only just audible voice.
Fearing that Hebe might not know the story yet, I came into the kitchen while she was on her electronics, playaing against guest. As an aside, can you believe that she told me that sometimes she has up to 12 friends playing with her, all of whom are named guest. At any rate, while she had her back to me, I sat down on a chair and quickly began to tell the story of a little boy named Jack who lived with his widowed mother in a small cottage ....
I didn't leave a breathe between sentences and told the story with its rising swells and small moments of stasis. Hebe was wearing her new black fuzzy earmuffs. I was mistaking them for earphones, so I told the story louder than usual to make sure she could hear every sound.
I told the fe fi fo fum in a giant's voice and Hebe did call out to me, "You are the dumbest grandmother ever."
I cackled in consecutive bwok, bwok, bwoks, when the hen laid the golden egg and Hebe called out "That is not how a hen sounds".
I told her she was right and I changed to peep peep peeps but ones that sounded in distress.
Without taking a breath, I got Jack back home to his mother's house, the bean stalk chopped down, the giant dead and the single mom family happy with perpetual gold.
And in the next sentence I told her I had to leave the room and I left Hebe and her mother to sort out the details. I heard Catherine calling something to me about getting out of the room while the going was good.
I went too soon, for I was barely on the downstairs landing when I remembered I had forgotten essential pieces to the story: the giant's bag of golden coins and the golden singing harp.
Again, Happy New Year to all. May gold, the essential part of this story, rain on all of you this year.
Arta
This morning, I lay in bed waiting to hear the first sound of people coming down the stairs and going to the kitchen. Of course it is Hebe I am listening for. Of all of the people in the house, she is the one who is the most fun for me to talk to. She is the one who requires full body and mind engagement from me.
Laying in bed I was wondering if when she is up and eating her breakfast, if I would come into the kitchen saying Fee Fi Fo Fum, or if I would just whisper it through the door in an only just audible voice.
Fearing that Hebe might not know the story yet, I came into the kitchen while she was on her electronics, playaing against guest. As an aside, can you believe that she told me that sometimes she has up to 12 friends playing with her, all of whom are named guest. At any rate, while she had her back to me, I sat down on a chair and quickly began to tell the story of a little boy named Jack who lived with his widowed mother in a small cottage ....
I didn't leave a breathe between sentences and told the story with its rising swells and small moments of stasis. Hebe was wearing her new black fuzzy earmuffs. I was mistaking them for earphones, so I told the story louder than usual to make sure she could hear every sound.
I cackled in consecutive bwok, bwok, bwoks, when the hen laid the golden egg and Hebe called out "That is not how a hen sounds".
I told her she was right and I changed to peep peep peeps but ones that sounded in distress.
Without taking a breath, I got Jack back home to his mother's house, the bean stalk chopped down, the giant dead and the single mom family happy with perpetual gold.
And in the next sentence I told her I had to leave the room and I left Hebe and her mother to sort out the details. I heard Catherine calling something to me about getting out of the room while the going was good.
I went too soon, for I was barely on the downstairs landing when I remembered I had forgotten essential pieces to the story: the giant's bag of golden coins and the golden singing harp.
Again, Happy New Year to all. May gold, the essential part of this story, rain on all of you this year.
Arta
hahahaha
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