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small mystery
Sep. 21st, 2007 08:59 am.
Sarah stays active, wanting to ride her bike a while or go fall off her scooter a dozen times (always onto the grass -- I suspect she's doing it halfway on purpose) when she gets home from school. After taking her to the ophthalmologist on Monday, we brought her to school and conspired with the teacher to make her wear her glasses in class, which she now does. I also told her she has to watch TV with the glasses on. This was moderated to where she has them on about half the time while watching, and she's been fairly good about that. An immediate side effect of the initial "always on while watching" period was that she would turn the TV off sometimes and want to go outside (see: bike and scooter riding).
Cathy took her to a Girl Scouts informational meeting a couple of nights ago, and she sounds halfway enthused about that as well. No rush, we just wanted her to know about it. She's also going to a weekend soccer hour, learning the basic skill set and -- big thrill! -- running into some kids she knows from school. She's still enjoying school and bus riding, and since we started going to the slightly closer corner to wait for the bus, she has made a second bus buddy, Treigh, and been invited to his birthday doings on Saturday. She'll be there for about an hour, and then it'll be time to join two other families and go to the Big E (Eastern States Exposition), as previously arranged. The birthday invite came yesterday at the bus stop, in a fairly impromptu fashion. Treigh's going to be six.
As we walked to the bus stop... well, I walked; she ran... I heard a sort of slapping noise and turned to see birds flying off a roof. Would they make that kind of noise taking off? I saw something on the sidewalk and walked closer for a better look. A bird -- gull or something -- was moving very slightly, lying in an awkward bundle. Did it make that noise hitting the walk? Did it sit on an electric line and was the sound I heard a shock? I took another step, and Sarah, half a block away, called out to me. I turned back to her, and heard the noise again. This time it sounded like perhaps an air rifle. Was some idiot shooting birds from his house or yard? I caught up with Sarah.
At the bus stop, Treigh and Sarah ran back and forth, each egging the other on. Some races were run, with Sarah taking her usual head start. All the kids seemed to be trying to stand close to the two-day-old dog leavings by the corner fence post. Just before the bus came, Sarah made a serious effort to walk backwards onto it, but I stopped her about one inch before she closed on it. Then I took my walk, continuing from the bus corner to follow one of my usual one-mile routes. I added a couple of blocks in order to pass by the house where the birthday party will be, just to have it in my head. I heard somebody practicing on a keyboard, I think. This sound always makes me happy. There's a neighbor on the next block from us who, I'm told, is an influential pioneer of Italian jazz. Next time I talk to Rich, I'll get his name again.
Then I passed the place where the bird had lain on the sidewalk. No bird. No feathers. No tiny patch of Type Avian. A couple of pigeons were bob-bob-bobbing around in the street, but they couldn't tell me anything.
.
Sarah stays active, wanting to ride her bike a while or go fall off her scooter a dozen times (always onto the grass -- I suspect she's doing it halfway on purpose) when she gets home from school. After taking her to the ophthalmologist on Monday, we brought her to school and conspired with the teacher to make her wear her glasses in class, which she now does. I also told her she has to watch TV with the glasses on. This was moderated to where she has them on about half the time while watching, and she's been fairly good about that. An immediate side effect of the initial "always on while watching" period was that she would turn the TV off sometimes and want to go outside (see: bike and scooter riding).
Cathy took her to a Girl Scouts informational meeting a couple of nights ago, and she sounds halfway enthused about that as well. No rush, we just wanted her to know about it. She's also going to a weekend soccer hour, learning the basic skill set and -- big thrill! -- running into some kids she knows from school. She's still enjoying school and bus riding, and since we started going to the slightly closer corner to wait for the bus, she has made a second bus buddy, Treigh, and been invited to his birthday doings on Saturday. She'll be there for about an hour, and then it'll be time to join two other families and go to the Big E (Eastern States Exposition), as previously arranged. The birthday invite came yesterday at the bus stop, in a fairly impromptu fashion. Treigh's going to be six.
As we walked to the bus stop... well, I walked; she ran... I heard a sort of slapping noise and turned to see birds flying off a roof. Would they make that kind of noise taking off? I saw something on the sidewalk and walked closer for a better look. A bird -- gull or something -- was moving very slightly, lying in an awkward bundle. Did it make that noise hitting the walk? Did it sit on an electric line and was the sound I heard a shock? I took another step, and Sarah, half a block away, called out to me. I turned back to her, and heard the noise again. This time it sounded like perhaps an air rifle. Was some idiot shooting birds from his house or yard? I caught up with Sarah.
At the bus stop, Treigh and Sarah ran back and forth, each egging the other on. Some races were run, with Sarah taking her usual head start. All the kids seemed to be trying to stand close to the two-day-old dog leavings by the corner fence post. Just before the bus came, Sarah made a serious effort to walk backwards onto it, but I stopped her about one inch before she closed on it. Then I took my walk, continuing from the bus corner to follow one of my usual one-mile routes. I added a couple of blocks in order to pass by the house where the birthday party will be, just to have it in my head. I heard somebody practicing on a keyboard, I think. This sound always makes me happy. There's a neighbor on the next block from us who, I'm told, is an influential pioneer of Italian jazz. Next time I talk to Rich, I'll get his name again.
Then I passed the place where the bird had lain on the sidewalk. No bird. No feathers. No tiny patch of Type Avian. A couple of pigeons were bob-bob-bobbing around in the street, but they couldn't tell me anything.
.
