On my walk to Liberty Bakery today, with Ivy, it started to hail. I pulled the stroller canopy over Ivy's head but she pushed it back. She was interested, leaning forward with her hands on her knees to see the hail bounce off the sidewalk.
The weather turned to pouring rain just as we reached the bakery. Inside, everybody was steaming. Have I mentioned Ivy's obsession with black bean soup? She's fanatic about it. The usual is a small and a large bowl to go, (the small for me, no lime chili for either of us), and a couple of gingerbread animals.
"Which shape?" they always ask.
"Doesn't matter" I tell them. They usually give us the horse.
If I can stand to wait the five minutes, I get the black bean and feta panini, grilled. Sometimes we get back to the house and Ivy wants my sandwich instead of her soup, so we trade, which is an act of martyrdom on my part, really. Those sandwiches are good.
Today when we left the bakery it was still pouring. We ducked into Narcissist, where Ivy likes to hide behind the curtains of the changing room. When we said goodbye to Marian ten minutes later, the sun was shining and everything on the wet street was brilliant with reflected light.
I got some work done tonight. Not a huge amount, but enough to slightly relieve my sense of impending doom, though I'm sure it shouldn't. Now if only my computer would let me, I'd be able to email a rewrite to my professor.
I'm going to try and write some children's fiction over Easter weekend, when I'm on Saturna with Marc and the dogs. I need a third genre for my major application portfolio, and UBC considers children's fiction a genre. Thank god. It was that or poetry. With poetry I'm lost.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
5 comments:
Oooh. You will rock the kidslit, I just know it.
Hee. I picture you and Ivy as friends, rather than charge and chargee. She demanding your sandwich, while chatting away about the hail.
Juniper is chewing on the front door mat.
do we get to read it when you're done?
Nope. I'm far too insecure. If I thought I was going to post a story on my site once it was finished, I'd probably never start.
don't worry, Kate. I'll pump her full of chai lattes. They're like getclairetodoanything serum. The equivalent of Sachi and alcohol. Only much cheaper.
Post a Comment