This one's for Matt

Ok, what's with this? Hanging in an elegant room is this surprising artifact. It looks like a woman in front, but what's with the horns -antlers, I mean - antlers sticking out ...in back?

It appears to be a lighting fixture of some sort ( she might be holding candles?) but why would we see the same thing in two different castles?
In Lichtenstein
and in Meersburg.

I can't even look it up because, what would you call it?

This one's for Charles

Before we left, Charles said "I wish I were going with you. Drink some beer for me!" So...

Here's T drinking a Sion Kölsch in the traditional Stange in Köln...
G with a Rothaus Pils in the Schwarzwald
G with a reminiscent Hofbräu at Der Chinesische Turm And K is not really going to drink all those glasses of
Schönbuch Bräu all by herself! Just one...or two...

Bert and Ernie, Part 2

"I look down and see...."

The road...with all those cobblestones carefully placed in a fan pattern..



And the Roman road, stones not quite so smooth but hey! it's lasted a few millenia...








I look down...and down....and down...These castles are HIGH on cliffs and hills.

Bert and Ernie in Germany

Some of you may remember the song from Sesame Street -
"I look up and see the sky
I look down and see the ground
I look at you and sing a song about
UP and DOWN"

We looked up to see all sorts of things:

The fellow who announces "This is where it's happening" at the Rathaus in Köln
The acrobat precariously balanced over Esslingen
The jolly cooks above the restaurant in the Black Forest
A flying car? It seems to have just landed on this museum.
And for extra credit, can anyone identify this famous landmark?

Getting around

We travelled by car
by van
by train
and by boat.
But the best way to travel was by foot!

And my poor feet and legs did pretty well, considering the miles I put on them.

(featured in the photos: Dorothea in their new auto, Jacob in the van, Ginny on the ICE train (reading a hilarious British romance novel translated into German), the ferry to Meersburg, and Thayr, Katy and Margaret (in the stroller).

The story of the Heinzelmännchen Fountain

Wie war zu Köln es doch vordem
Mit Heinzelmännchen so bequem!
Denn, war man faul, man legte sich
Hin auf die Bank und pflegte sich:
Da kamen bei Nacht,
Ehe man´s gedacht,
Die Männlein und schwärmten
Und klappten und lärmten,
Und rupften
Und zupften,
Und hüpften und trabten
Und putzten und schabten
Und eh ein Faulpelz noch erwacht,
War all sein Tagewerk - bereits gemacht! (August Kopisch 1799 -1853)

Long ago, no one in Köln had to work because every night little men would come and do all the work.



They baked the bread,


made the sausages,

and brewed the beer.


The only catch was that no one was to ever see them. Alas, the tailor's daughter was curious... and so came down one night with a lantern to catch them working. And so the helpful Heinzelmännchen disappeared and since then everyone has to do their own work.

Visit to Köln

We visited the cathedral in Köln, impossibly huge and impossibly elaborate. I couldn't even get the whole door in one picture.

You can see the incredible measurements at:
http://www.willkommeninkoeln.de/06kunst/kunst04e.htm
Note the special guided tours - we did not take the one over the rooftop or climb the 509 steps to the opservation platform. We did hear someone playing the "swallow's nest" organ which is somehow perched high up on one of the massive columns (weight of organ 30 tons)

Hundreds of statues look out from their niches all around the building. I liked these three scholars, all holding books.

And this picture of St. Ursula is for Ursi!

Open Air Market

Just around the corner is the tiny Kettwig market place where on Tuesday and Friday there is an open air market. Early in the morning we see people hurrying down the street with baskets and bags, and after breakfast we join them.

The market is a beautiful mix of stalls - some with flowers, some with fruits and vegetables -

There is a cheese stall and a meat stall and one that sells only socks. There is a Greek stall with olives and eggplant and an enthusiastic seller who wants us to try his dip (I think it's some form of hummus with peppers). T shakes his head "nein" and the man cries, "Viagra! Viagra" as he pushes the tasting spoon towards him.

My favorite stall is this one, run by a fellow whose German is as incomprensible as ours - he picks the pottery up in Poland and runs it to various markets in Germany where he sells it very cheaply. Alas, that it is so fragile! Only the thought of trying to carry it on and off of trains and buses and airplanes for the next two weeks keeps me from buying an armfull.

Fruits of the season

We arrived while it was still the season for Spargel and Erdbeeren

So there were little stands everywhere, and we stopped at this farm stand just outside of Kettwig.


Here is an automatic asparagus washing and peeling machine. Notice that it does this better than Grandma (who spent hours getting the Spargel clean).


Besides the white Spargel and the sweet Erdbeeren, we indulged in some juicy tender Aprikosen.

Stopping for a snack

One can only do this if one is also going to walk miles every day. And yes, these two are brothers - can you tell?

Taking off

Here we are back at the beginning of our trip: arriving at the airport. Mimi, driving us to Cincinnati, has gotten stopped for the very first time and is displaying her impressive warning ticket. It was most amusing after hearing stories of her experiences as a high-school driving teacher.

On to Stuttgart

The train from Essen to Stuttgart is smooth and quiet. We open our newspaper and book, but the view from the window keeps taking our attention away from the print. At Bonn a young couple sit next to us, with a baby about a year old. The scenery outside is wonderful, and the baby is enchanting and the ride is over before we know it. And there, at the end of the platform, my brother and family are waiting.

more to come

I am sitting in a haus built around 1780. Outside in the tiny garden the hollyhocks and roses bend over with the weight of the rain. It is a lazy day in Kettwig. I have taken dozens of pictures over the past week, none of which I can get to download, and without which the stories will not be so interesting ... so, keep checking this spot for exciting updates when pictures can accompany the erzählung.

Leavin' on a Jet Plane

My bags are packed...I'm ready to go... Actually, it's more like: my bags are stuffed and I can't lift them...

Farewell

My last day began with flowers from the art teacher, who has been my neighbor across the hall all year.







The faculty gave me a real school bell of my very own. I'll still miss hearing the school bells ring.

And this says it all:

They steal your heart, these kids!

The halls were dark when I carried out my bags and sacks of accumulated stuff . I looked back at the quiet, orderly library, all the books tucked back onto shelves, the carts all empty, the walls and windows blank, and thought: This is where I came in.

I turned off the lights.

Anticipation

Some wishful thinking for the last week of school...

It worked!

He shouts something to me as I hold up the stop sign on crossing duty this morning. He's riding on the back of his grandmother's scooter and I just wave as they go put-putting past. I can't actually tell who he is because his head is completely obscured by the giant motorcycle helmet he wears.
The scooter comes back up the hill after letting him off and grandmother pulls over by the crosswalk. "He tells me you stuck pins in your thumb yesterday" she says.
I feel worried. "I was showing them how they could find fun things to do in books" I begin to bleat, "It was a trick."
She brushes my stammerings aside. "I want you to know" she says, "that we always go rock climbing after school on Wednesdays, and yesterday he demanded that we go to the library instead. He had to have magic books. I just wanted you to know you had an effect."
And off she buzzed.

Why we have indoor recess

from the kindergarten weather reports:

Who's boss?

This has been a day for bossy girls. Girls demanding of each other -"Come over here!" "Stand by me" "Who's in your literature circle?" Girls keeping track of others- "Mrs. Richey, there are 7 kids here from my class and there are only supposed to be 5". And girls ready to step in and do my job, like the kindergartener this morning who came in with a friend. Both girls blurted out requests at almost the same time, but the one with dark hair and a deep voice said first "I want..." so I started with her question. Immediately the little blonde one interrupted and said imperiously: "I know where the princess books are! I'll show her and you find my cursive books!"

Carnival time

At crossing duty this morning the cars snarled into motionless lines. One after another stopped while the driver ran in to the school with cakes for the cakewalk, giant bottles of pop for the pop toss, and various mysterious packages. Walkers came to school hauling bags with cookies and doughnuts tumbling out of the careful order they'd been sent off with. Parents sat inside the door selling raffle tickets. They'll be setting up in the library after the first grades leave this afternoon.
Such excitement!

There are things we'll never know

I have come down to the computer lab on my lunch hour to check on a computer glitch. The window is open to the sounds of lunch recess. I hear a chant "We are the idiots! Jump! Jump!". I wonder what sort of game this is and look out the window. A couple of boys and one girl are marching around a picnic table. As they chant they pump their arms in the air with "Jump! Jump!" At the picnice table sits a solitary girl, her long blonde hair hiding her face as she draws or writes. She does not look up. More and more kids run to join the marchers. The chant gets louder "We are the idiots! Jump! jump!" There are now so many kids that the line's end runs into its beginning. The leader breaks away, and trailed by about 25 kids starts across the playground. They march through the basketball game and head across the creek and as I leave the chant is fading away but arms are still pumping up in the air in rhythm. "We are the idiots! Jump! Jump!"

I know this kid

I hear the first graders starting down the hall for lunch. Above the general roar I hear a familiar little boy voice say "It was a hug!" Then the teacher's voice - "Not when you lift him up and smack his face."

A Two-fer

I'm trying to change the display case fairly often, so that the kids will keep looking at it. This month I used the same background and some of the same characters for two displays. "The Spring Calls of the Book Frogs" was inspired by Book! Book! Book! and you can see that one of my frogs is singing the "read-it! read-it" line from that book.

Then several of the frogs hopped away and the background became a writer's spring garden, with seed packages of "verbs" and "nouns" and "adjectives" - and stakes to mark where books, stories and poems will grow.

This is such fun.

The Bully

His identity as the class bully has been firmly established. I know this from several incidents in our library time. Other kids come to the library in twos and threes -he's come all by himself. He comes in whistling, and stops before I say anything. He leans over the library desk and chats as his mind skips from topic to topic - baseball season has started, and he's playing soccer too but everything has been rained out so far. He tells me about his older brother's activities and how his cat and dogs get along. He carried his neighbor's cat home when it came to his house, and he demonstrates how he held it so that it wouldn't scratch him. This story is vivid, complete with the dogs jumping up on the other side of the fence and barking.
Finally, reluctantly, he leaves to return to his class.
I hear his clear boy-soprano voice singing "oh uh oh uh oh" all the way down the stairs.

Computer Woe

The student teacher is lively and enthusiastic. She has worked hard for hours and hours on her resume, sitting at one of the computer stations in the classroom. Today she sits down and the whole file is gone. She panics.
By the time I get there, she is in tears, mascara running down her cheeks. I try the two tricks I know to locate missing files. Neither one works. All that work, gone, vanished. She sobs "I HATE computers".
The class is unsure what to do. They gather at a distance, curious, questioning. "What is it?" they mutter to each other. What terrible adult tragedy are they witnessing? Should they be concerned? Two boys begin to fight. The rest just stare. Finally one finds the classroom tissue box and pulls out a huge handful to offer her.

The Testing Season

Today we began three weeks of computerized testing for all the 2 through 6 grades. I'm the proctor for our school. I left extra early this morning to allow time for fumbling through the two sets of log-ins that each computer must have before I can load the test and assign it to a student.
When the computers were all set, 45 minutes into my day, I dashed back up to the library for the ordinary Monday morning tasks, then back to the computer lab to check on the first class of the day - an active, chatty, squirmy second grade.
As I walked down the hall, I heard nothing . "Oh dear" I thought, "the teacher has forgotten and they haven't come." Then I walked into the lab. In absolute silence the second graders stared at their screens. No one looked up, no one gave any indication of noticing that I'd come in. The eerie hush was only broken by the faint click of a mouse button here and there.
Oh, this testing! It's serious stuff!

Maple Syrup

This past week I showed all my classes how maple syrup is made. After the story and the book share, I gave each a tiny taste of maple syrup from a tiny little plastic cup.

I had the syrup already poured into the cups when they came in, and had set up a table so that the tray wouldn't be too tempting as they sat and listened first.

The second graders came in quietly (I had lights down and a cd of bird song playing). One little girl peeked at the table and saw the trays with the little cups with a dark mysterious liquid in them. She looked at me with shining eyes and whispered " I know where the God's blood is!"

Aging

It was a wild morning, moving tables and chairs and setting up massive book displays. The library seemed smaller than ever with the fifth graders filling it up. I handed out the booklist I'd frantically finished at the last minute, then talked about books for 45 minutes. They all checked out their fantasy books, and then I reopened the library for the last half hour before lunch.

A second grader came to the desk. Did I have his books? I looked at him and couldn't remember what books. He impatiently reminded me that I'd set books aside for him yesterday. I appologized, saying "It's been a tough morning". He looked at me seriously. "Yeah," he said. " You do look kinda tired. Maybe they should get someone younger for this job."

Feeling Inept

Breathless, two third graders rush to the circulation desk. "You have to come right away! The DVD won't play!"
Together we scurry down to their classroom. I find the teacher and several helpful little boys crowded around the av cart. With what I hope is a professional looking air, I examine the wires, the buttons, the remotes. I change the "input" and "output" lines. I turn it off and on. Meanwhile, the student teacher begins to read the book to the disappointed class. "I really wanted to see that movie" someone sighs.
The helpful boys stay with me. I am reading the manual when suddenly the DVD begins to play. The class cheers.
One of the boys has changed the input wires to the first set rather than the fourth. He stands proudly by the now-working machine while the class chants his name over and over: " Ry -an! Ry- an!"

Lunchtime

I have been outside during lunch - just to smell the fresh air (the library is decidedly musty). I come back in, walking by the lunch room. One of my familiar readers is leaning over the water fountain. He spies me, and with a huge grin, shouts: "Mrs. Richey! I punched my apple until it exploded!"

Spring Break aftermath

Books came in from Spring Break by the armloads and basketfulls. They piled on the carts until they threatened to topple onto someone, and then they settled in stacks that grew around the desk. They were accompanied by students who lined up in front of the desk and around the computers.
It was afternoon when I finally looked up - only because someone said something - and realized that the reading teacher who had been coming in and out all morning using the reference nook to meet students, the teacher I'd spoken to and smiled at, even checked out books for - that teacher had an arm wrapped and bound up. She'd had a true spring break. "I wish I had a good story" she said, "but I just slipped in the bathroom and tried to catch myself".

Spring Break

Far away from the noisy halls of school, I'm on a true Spring break. Here the red-wing blackbird, the robin, and the flicker call from budding trees. I note the shapes of shadows and the slow change of the sun. No bells ring, no computers ding. I'll return to school renewed and ready.

Fame

This morning an intern from the local newspaper came to the library to talk about the second grade reading program. She remembered the program from her own second grade days. Could she interview some kids? Around the table in the back of the library a little group of second graders were busily assembling astronomy facts. They were shy when asked but one little girl volunteered to talk about her reading. Suddenly it dawned on the others that this was an opportunity to have their names in the paper. The entire group surrounded the intern squealing, giggling, hugging each other as they hopped up and down: "We're going to be FAMOUS!"

Dr. Seuss Day

All over school people are reading Dr. Seuss books. I read "The Cat in the Hat" with all the first grades. They are a little confused because the book isn't just like the movie. Not enough action from Thing One and Thing Two.
Several classes have "pajama day" in honor of Dr. Seuss. I see kindergarteners flitting past the library door in sweet little nightgowns and power pjs. It is hard to keep focused while chatting with little people in dinosaur pajamas and big puffy soccer ball slippers.
I go down to a third grade classroom. All the Dr. Seuss stories are jumbled on a table, and all around the room kids are holding books and reading books. They have spread out sleeping bags and pillows. It's a reading slumber party at school! Two girls have draped coats around a table. "Don't ask!" they tell me as they giggle and crawl underneath.

Happy New Year

The golden dragons printed on the red silk cloth made a great backdrop for the Chinese New Year's display. The card and banners were found at a Chinese grocery, along with the colorful dragon puppets.

Several parents stopped in the hall to look at the display. They could probably read the writing but I didn't ask - I just hope it really said "Happy New Year!"

Destination

As I get ready for the first grade classes to visit, I hear someone outside the room. It is a special- ed aide and a student. I hear them chanting together: "going to the to-i-let! going to the to-i-let! going to the to-i-let". They march purposefully past my door and on down the hall.

Good wishes

The second dismissal bell rings, and the first graders stream down the hall past the library. I step out to help slow things down. There are two stragglers. One calls out "Goodbye Mrs Richey". The other comes over to hug me. He tries to think of something better to say than "Goodbye". He manages "Happy", pauses, and then with a burst of inspiration blurts "Happy Reading Day, Mrs. Richey!"

Remains...

Friday afternoon the halls rang with the noise of Valentine parties, a delayed treat because of the snow days. In the library the one child who couldn't go to a Valentine party sat and played an "I spy" game with me. After school was out I took longer than usual to run the weekly computer backup, catch up on returned materials, and straighten things up from a busy day. The school was strangely empty when I finally left, a few foil hearts dropped on the stairs were the only echoes of the excitement and activity of the day. Outside it was still bitterly cold and clear ice still coated trees and fences. The sun was low and the light caught on the ice. As I pulled out of my parking place I saw a sparkle of red across the sidewalk. The remains of a smashed candy lollipop like broken glass glittered and glowed.

Heartfelt

Some came shyly, some boldly bringing a valentine to the librarian. Some stayed to be appreciated and to point out the details ("Can you tell it's a book?" "You can take the straw out and there's like sugar inside") and two came in at the end of the day - "Here, these are leftover" they said, giving me a heart-shaped eraser and a pad of sandal shaped paper.

Make like a tree

I am sitting at the computer, trying to help four kids at once - we're all doing author studies and I'm trying to find resources our library just doesn't have. One of the girls leans close to me. "You're dressed like a tree" she says. I look at myself - brown slacks, green sweater, green jacket. "I guess I am," I say. "My jacket is sort of like leaves." She rubs my shoulder and sighs "It's very soft, too."

Competition

It's snowing on a bitterly cold day and so we have indoor recess. Kids are bouncing around, even the sophisticated sixth grade girls. I am not surprised when a pack of lively young men comes bursting into the library looking for action. They head for the computer, on which they are limited to the excitements of the library catalog. I remind them to take turns as they knock each other off the computer chair, spin the chair and make it go up and down on the lucky guy who got to sit down there. There is a line at checkout, so I return to the desk and leave them to entertain themselves. "I'm looking up girls" announces the boy at the keyboard. "Look up boys" says his buddy, "See which is more." They are disgusted to discover that a search for "girls" brings up more books (193) than a search for "boys" (182).

Go Team!

Today everyone is wearing team colors. The 6th graders have written on their faces with magic markers (Washable markers, one assures me). A first grader comes in - "I didn't have a team shirt" he says, "But my dad did." He is draped in a shirt that almost touches the floor and comes down to his wrists, although it is a short sleeve tee shirt. He grins proudly and floats out the door, the excess fabric rippling and waving around him.

Tears

She's an only child, with tender sentiments and a sweet, serious face. The rowdy second grade settles in front of the bookcase and someone points out that she's crying. Big tears are rolling down her cheeks. I think frantically, what did I do? Did I say something? (I had been admonishing them to sit and look my way). I lean over - "What's wrong?" I ask. She sobs "Nobody understands how I feel."

Power Point

Today the third grades played with Power Point in the computer lab. I was the technical support - thankfully I only had to jiggle wires and check connections.
I did spell difficult words such as "elephant" and "frustrating" (not for the same person). Mostly I admired the slides that were being created - one on "owsam" racecars, one about family ("Sometimes they can be enoying but i can't live without them."), and lots and lots of "my dog" with cute puppy pictures. Several wrote about themselves ("I will never commit sew aside.") One fellow found racy pictures in clip-art and had a slide titled "Oh Baby" with a clip-art pistol pointing at a bikini clad young woman- there was a lot of giggling in his row until the teacher had a talk with them.
I noticed a quiet boy in the front row. He had only created one slide. It had a title: "Life" and a single sentence: "I have a life."

Personal space

The kindergarteners now have big posterboard dots to sit on. Each blue circle bears the inscription " My personal space" in big primary printing. The kindergarteners are such puppies, grooming each other, rolling into the one next to them, snapping when one gets too close. They are delighted with these new spots and pleased to claim their own personal space with an actual physical object. I compliment them on sitting so well.

Then there's our wiggler. He discovers that the personal spaces spin. Of course.

Book Party!

Money from a Foundation grant bought 69 new picture books just right for kindergarteners. That's something to celebrate! So we had a book party in the library. I'm showing them some of the books and inviting them to play "I spy" with the covers and make a bookmark with stickers. Excitement runs high.
Outside the library door, two first graders linger. "When is it our turn to have a party?" they ask.

High school girls

The library is packed with kids this first day back from the break. I am surrounded by questioners: "I need a chapter book about sharks" "Where are the war books" "Where are those books you read in bed?" (she wanted Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark) and "do you have books by this author named Lizzy?" I'm pointing people here and there, try prehistoric books in the 569s, try the 796s for basketball...and I lose the fellow asking about the author until his teacher comes to fetch him back to class. When she hears that he's been waiting all this time to try to look it up on the computer, she sends him to me. The room by now is almost empty and we have time to talk. "They're clique books" he says. We check on the computer. I ask for more clues. "Don't laugh, " he says. "they're about high school girls. I don't know why, I just like to read about high school girls."

Sugar High

For months our school has been emphasizing healthy treats. Bring oranges, not cupcakes, for birthday treats. Don't bake cookies for the class, bring yogurt in a tube instead. A relentlessly healthy message appears in every parent newsletter. And have we effected a change in our children's nutritional attitudes? Read on for a highly unscientific conclusion.
The last several days before the holiday, little brightly colored bags began appearing on my desk. Sometimes children came in with a parent to bring their offerings, or younger siblings came dragging in an older one. Bags materialized on the desk when my back was turned. I was surprised at this unexpected gifting, and touched ( aww, they remembered the school librarian) Inside the bags I found:
Hershey's kisses, truffles, Belgian chocolates, Giardelli squares, homemade chocolate loaf, Mentos, ingredients for lemon cheesecake, chocolate bells and considerable other chocolate confections.
As I buzzed home for the winter break after sampling these tasty offerings, I concluded that (despite education) SUGAR is still essential for a real celebration.

Playtime

A basket of books on the Civil War caught the eye of a passing 4th grader. He looked at the top book, A Picture Book of Robert E. Lee, with its cover picture of Lee as a boy pretending to be a soldier. He looked at me with a air of discovery - "He pretended to be in a war when he was a kid" He put his hand on the shelf next to me and walked his fingers across it. "And when he grew up he was in a war."
I said, "So I guess you should be careful what you pretend to be."
He grinned and said as he walked away "Oh don't worry about me. I don't do any of that stuff. I just play video games in my basement all the time."

The Big Show

The second grades sit on the bleachers on the stage at the end of the lunchroom. They chatter, wiggle and squirm. I slip into the back of the audience. The kids are always sort of amazed to recognize me, no matter how often they see me. Various ones begin to wave in sort of hidden ways and one calls out "Hi, Mrs. Richey" - as if I had not noticed that they were there. The program begins - they sing "My house is a holiday house" and slip in and out of their seats to take their turns at the narration between songs - how they must have rehearsed! I marvel that the music teacher was able to get them to pay attention long enough to learn all this. Only one shy fellow can't get his words out and, promted by the teacher, mumbles them after her. An Asian girl plays her violin matter of factly. A tow-head in a brightly striped shirt plays "Jingle Bells" on the piano - the singers speed up since they all know the song, but his fingers only go so fast and so they finish before he does. Sylph-like, a slender dark haired girl in pink dances with a filmy pink scarf, carefully going through all the ballet positions she's learned. At the end I clap as loudly as any proud parent.

Babies

She floats into the library, dressed in delicate pinks and blues. She has wispy blonde hair and pale blue eyes. She says "do you have a book about babies? I want to find out about babies." I move towards the 500s and 600s, trying to delicately discover exactly what she has in mind. "Animals" she says. I pull out a baby animal book. "Well, actually," she confesses, "I want a book about a baby ballerina."

Serious thoughts

The fifth grades are reading historical fiction, so the Book Club members came to lunch with some serious books. We talked about hobos and the Great Depression, about Korea under Japanese occupation, about suicide bombers and homelessness. Sad scenes came out - "I really had tears in my eyes when Frances played the harmonica after her friend died". They talked about homeless people they'd seen. "My family went to New York City," said one. " And we saw about 30 homeless people." As they left, I talked with one who was holding The Little Fishes - "Oh, that's a sad book" I said.
"They were in a war" said the girl "and their parents didn't take care of them."
"I don't think the parents could," I said. "Things were bombed out".
"Sometimes I think about what would happen if there was a war here" she said "I just don't know what I'd do."

Walkers

In the morning I have crossing duty and stand proudly beside the cross walk with a stop sign in my hand. When a walker comes, I march out into the frenetic early morning traffic and boldly stop the cars. As the weather has gotten colder and wetter, fewer and fewer walkers appear. In the pouring, driving rain yesterday only one dedicated family appeared, Dad with his big umbrella, daughter in a yellow hooded raincoat, and son hidden under a smallish blue umbrella.
"Good morning" I said, with the rain splashing up my ankles and dripping down my neck. Dad smiled, daughter smiled - and the serious looking little guy narrowed his eyes at me and said defiantly "It's my mother's umbrella".
I nodded as if this was exactly the information I needed. "As long as it keeps you dry" I said. He nodded back and splashed his way on into school.