Once in a while I am privy to the children’s imaginary games.  The other day Elsie was blocking the kitchen doorway so Jack couldn’t enter.  Apparently, there was certain criteria for one to enter the kitchen.  She began the interrogation:
How old are you?
One-hundred.
Do you have any children?
Yes.
Where is your mother?
At home.
And finally, the kicker.  The most important requirement for entering the kitchen: Do you have a grandma?
Yes.
You may pass through.

The other night they requested classical music and danced ball-room style.  They carefully choreographed the swing and spin.  It was fabulous.  

When they were looking through old photo albums, both received major brownie points for their observations.
Mom, you  look so young now, said Jack.
She’s always young, Elsie countered, making my heart feel forever young.
  Betty also has her own specific interpretive dance.  First, with Elephant:

Next, she likes to close her eyes… almost… and squint while her hands slowly raise into the air and she spins very slowly and purposefully.  A little toe raise here and there for good effect. 

Then, when the audience starts to touch the rug one too many times, the entire dance is ruined and little ballerina melts into her own arms.
Everyone has been enjoying the new snow.  There have been snowmen and sledding galore!

We had a marvelous Thanksgiving weekend with Matthew’s family, and then in New York with my entire family.  There were cousins, fun, and… of course, Grandmas.  I’ll save those pictures for another post soon.  I’ve been secretly working on surprises which have taken every waking minute.  And even when I have things to make and things to finish, somehow people still get hungry around here and their clothes still get dirty.  As I speak, the pizza is out of the oven, and we are ready to eat while the snow falls outside.