Nathaniel had me up early, but then finally settled in for an hour-long nap before I had to get up. Good snuggling.
I was out the door for an interview at one of the colleges, in suit, heels, and pearls. No job, but some great contacts for the future and a really fun half-hour talking literature and pedagogy.
Back home to sprawl with family in bed at the top of the house, Katherine and Nathaniel wiggling all around us. Man, that little girl has pointy knees, elbows, and feet.
Kids in bed for a nap, and I made popcorn topped with butter, cinnamon, cumin, paprika, and a bit of sugar. It was delicious. We bought popcorn before we realized that it’s a choking hazard for kids of K’s age, so I’m now working my way through it over lunches while Sydney eats in college.
Out with the kids to run errands, including getting passport photos for Nathaniel. “Official” photos of babies are a riot, since the trick is to keep both drool and the parent’s hands out of the picture as the baby is hoisted aloft. We head to the embassy in London in a couple of weeks to get his passport and citizenship papers taken care of.
A walk with the kids in the park, with Katherine alternately catching a ride, “helping” push the stroller, and running to catch up anytime I left her behind. We passed fragrant trees, luminous white flowers, horses grazing, and we walked right past (no intervening fence) some large black cows that had either broken out or were in a new grazing area–right on one of the major walking paths in Oxford. The English and their cows . . .
Evening time with the kids while Sydney was away for a dinner. I was wielding a screwdriver, fixing the lamp, while singing my way through K’s repertoire. She has a book of kids’ songs and she flips from one page to another, commanding me to sing particular selections with a firmly-pointed finger.
Finally N’s asleep, and I’m headed there soon. But a quick bit of reading as I start my final read-through of my fourth chapter before sending it off. This one has been a bit of a pain, not coming together like I’d like, but it’s time to get on with things and see if it look different when I encounter it again in my rewrites.
Erin
Alan Schmierer