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

—Tennyson

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Yesterday after dinner Seth wrestled with the kids, who love climbing, jumping, teasing, and tickling. First they were fire ants whose bite would turn you into a raging, clawing fire monster. Then they were ice bees, whose sting would freeze you into a polar yeti. I tried to read, but kept getting bitten and involved in the fray.

No comments: