Come all ye young sailors and listen to me,
I'll sing you a song of the fish of the sea.
Then blow ye winds westerly, westerly blow,
We're bound to the south'ard, So steady she goes.
(traditional)
Do the men fish out there on the sailboat? I know Ed's not one to pull in fish from the ocean, but do others? What exactly do you do with yourself when you're not taking your four or six hour shift at steering the catamaran? Ed, who leans toward solitude, is on a tiny boat with four other men. How do you not trip over each other in the course of the day?
I think about this as I ride the speeding bus back to Madison. I had a beautiful and full second day in Chicago with Primrose and her mom (dad was out of town) and now I'm returning to my own quiet -- not one that I particularly love, or at least not when it is so quiet that I have to occasionally say something out loud, so that I can remember what the human voice sounds like.
Unlike Ed, Primrose does not lean toward solitude: she is definitely a social and verbal child. Being with her means that you will hear plenty of impassioned conversation.
Here, she is eyeing the quesadilla I brought from Madison's Finca. I rather thoughtlessly put it on the breakfast table and of course Primrose is adamant that it should be the meal's appetizer.
Here's a quiet moment, requiring total concentration...
Primrose's mom has stuff to do and so the little girl and I spend the morning just the two of us.
The little one has a fantastic memory for things she and I always do during my visits. When I ask if she wants to do the timed release photo, she drops her toys and flies into position.
One word that she repeats again and again today is "mango." I'd cut up one for breakfast and she was disappointed when the three of us polished it off (she being its main consumer) down to the naked pit. When I asked if she wanted to go outside, she asked with great hope "mango?"
How much should I humor such a request? The store with good mangos is far. I tell her -- let's just head out and see where the wind takes us.
(always my happy adventurer!)
It's not terribly cold today. Winter is taking a day's pause out here in the Midwest.
In the end, I give in, but not entirely. I take the girl to Local Foods -- a store concentrating on foods grown and produced in this region. But it's not entirely consistent. You can pick up bananas and lemons. To my knowledge, neither come from Illinois. So I have some hope for mangoes.
The produce manager shakes his head. Mangoes are too far out there. Sort of like pineapple. People would get really mad at me if I sold either!
Okay, no mangoes, little one. Can I interest you in a free sample of curried cauliflower mash? With coconut? Produced locally?
I'm told there is to be a musical program for kids. I hesitate. I mean, what kind of musical program and for what age?
I'm assured that it's for everyone (possibly because the grocery store audience is small and an addition of two more would be appreciated).
I suppose that's sort of correct. A woman dresses in a costume that is to make her look like Elsa from the movie Frozen and tries to entertain kids with some story that may or may not be from that movie. Punctuating the story are songs (sung by the Elsa look-alike) that definitely span a wide range of musicals, from Frozen to Cabaret. Perhaps the best part for the kids is that she does take out a bubble making machine. Primrose tries her hardest to catch a bubble but of course, you can't. Too, older kids are chasing and popping most everything before it reaches her. Still, she is a good sport and does not shy away from the activity.
We return home without a mango, but she seems content with a lunch of other foods that I find in the fridge. And shortly after, her mom returns...
... and it's time for me to say good bye and head for home.
Oh sweet girl, stay on course and don't change a thing! You're doing so well! Be your determined and strong sweet self!
Sigh... it was so good to see the two Chicago girls!
It's dark when the bus pulls into Madison. I'm feeling the onset of sniffles and I wonder if I can just feed the animals and not do anything more demanding tonight. Maybe. We'll see.
