With DOB's help, D1 discovered the slides at the park. After a very little coaching in climbing, and a few rides down in someone's lap, she scorned the short slide put in as a concession to small children and made a beeline for the top of the tall, twisty slide, scooting down on her belly, and hitting the ground running and squealing, "More!"
We went to evening service for the first time in a very long time, and she learned the first step in becoming a good Baptist: A hearty "AMEN!" (or two or three) at the end of everything.
D2, meanwhile, is exercising his fascination with speech to a greater degree everyday. He'll talk to anything now . . . a spare pair of pants, a table leg, a loose pillow. But he did not like B5's clarinet solo, not even with the brand-new professional grade clarinet.
We are still reorganizing the books. It goes very slowly. It wouldn't bother me--what is more fun than going slowly through one's books--except that all the neighbors can see of our house is the big pile of book boxes by the patio door. I want to put up a sign that says, "We're not slobs! Really!"