We've both moved on to non-fiction: Clay's now reading Eat, Pray, Love and I have a hard time putting down The Sharper Your Knife, the Less You Cry. Top Chef makes a lot more sense now, but more on that book after I finish.
The 500 -- We never take as many pictures at the track as Jill does, but here are a few:
Our patient and lovely and patient and obliging hosts
(they do put up with a lot from us, year after year)I made signs for Katie, who sang America the Beautiful and rode around in the celebrity parade before the race. I took this practice picture beforehand, because I knew I would be too excited when she passed by. As it turns out, I wasn't excited at all, because when she came by (at 11:45), we were taking a short walk and going to the bathroom before the festivities were to start at noon. But my dear friends held up the signs anyway. Did she see them? Maybe someday I'll get a chance to ask her.Not such a great picture, but here's Helio, making his victory lap. He sobbed, sobbed, sobbed in Victory Lane -- just a few short weeks ago, it looked like his life could have taken a much darker turn than the 800 lefts he took on Sunday. Although some say he had a really, really good lawyer, I can't imagine that such a good guy would have evaded paying his income taxes.
Field Day has become a beloved tradition at St. A School. It was a beautiful day, the perfect day to get wet and messy. Each class represented a South American Country, and at each of the 16 stations, before the games, the kids heard a little history/geography/biology lesson. Because we were such a big class, we were divided into two countries: Paraguay and French Guyana.
The firetruck came after lunch for a thorough hosing-off:
We were all pretty cranky on the walk back to school, but we rallied for the next day -- the whole-school field trip to Spring Mill State Park. We visited the Grissom Memorial, the Nature Center and then after lunch, the pioneer village.
Learning about pioneer toys (we made some, too)
Lorenz napped like this on the bus for much of the way home:(Perhaps he was praying that next year he won't have to make quite as many trips down to Sister's office. Although, the crusty old nun thinks she made some progress with the obstinate little boy this year. Personally, I think he just liked her hugs and enormous bosom.)
And now school is over for another year. Will is officially a junior. Officially, I haven't heard if I have a job in the fall, but I have a feeling that even if my position is cut from the budget, I'll be hanging around the kindergarten room, anyway.