The Children's Hour

Famous Anonymous is writing poetry now and it is really quite good stuff.  She gave me a few to read tonight and I was really impressed.

Her dad is a newspaper editor and he was duly impressed.
Writing runs in the family (I am a ghost writer now) so it may be that she is headed in that direction.
But, we also have doctors and scientists in the family - my father was a chemist and her other grandfather is an MD. It remains to be seen where it all ends up.
We've a ship's captain in the family as well. She does love the ocean!

You just never know and things have a way of fooling you.

What a wonderful time I have with these children.
 Its a joy to hear what children have to say and to watch them play. I can't get enough of it.
I have no new photos of the Famous Anonymous to share but I did make a poster of our little one, Sarah.

She's a real girly girl.. nail polish, sparkly shoes, princess gowns and dresses. She is a huge Cinderella fan and loves My Little Pony. And the big news is she is in pre school for a few days a week and loves it.
She's  a social butterfly.

Still a bit of summer left. Fall comes in on September 21 but I am already getting excited about changing the blog over to an autumn theme.

Do you know this poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow?
          The Children's Hour

Between the dark and the daylight,
   When the night is beginning to lower,
Comes a pause in the day's occupations,
   That is known as the Children's Hour.

I hear in the chamber above me
   The patter of little feet,
The sound of a door that is opened,
   And voices soft and sweet.

From my study I see in the lamplight,
   Descending the broad hall stair,
Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra,
   And Edith with golden hair.

A whisper, and then a silence:
   Yet I know by their merry eyes
They are plotting and planning together
   To take me by surprise.

A sudden rush from the stairway,
   A sudden raid from the hall!
By three doors left unguarded
   They enter my castle wall!

They climb up into my turret
   O'er the arms and back of my chair;
If I try to escape, they surround me;
   They seem to be everywhere.

They almost devour me with kisses,
   Their arms about me entwine,
Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen
   In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine!

Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti,
   Because you have scaled the wall,
Such an old mustache as I am
   Is not a match for you all!

I have you fast in my fortress,
   And will not let you depart,
But put you down into the dungeon
   In the round-tower of my heart.

And there will I keep you forever,
   Yes, forever and a day,
Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,
   And moulder in dust away!

~~~~

.... Oh how true. How true.