"In words, like weeds, I'll wrap me o'er,
Like coarsest clothes against the cold"

—Tennyson

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Today we went with Isaiah's preschool class on a field trip to the trout farm in Ogden. He loved catching a fish, touching it in the bucket, and swinging it around proudly once we had it in a bag. He was concerned about if the fish felt bad it got caught and became dead, but I wasn't quite sure how to answer that.

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