Sophie, Nels, Jasmine, my mother and I went to the County Fair again today. Afterward, we took my daughter to her first session of week-long summer camp. I didn’t cry or anything. Not until way later, out of eyesight of my kids.
Sophie would love to receive mail; if you feel so inclined, please write her at:
YMCA Camp Bishop
1476 W. Lost Lake Rd.
Shelton, WA 98584
Friday is her last day; the camp asks that any mail arrives by Thursday.
Tonight I make my own recipe of bread: molasses, cornmeal, all-purpose flour, eggs, warm milk, salt, sugar. Believe it or not I like poems, and here’s a favorite:
Wheat is still. It makes no sound
As it pushes from the ground.
As it runs its slow, serene
Course in rows of tender green.
Wheat is quiet; as it grows
It only whispers what it knows.
What is mute – till it is fed
To children as a loaf of bread
Then it is laughter; it is song;
It is clamor all day long.
– Ethel Romig Fuller