The Library

The girls and I are back in the town where they were born. Monkey had her first 4 1/2 years here. Yessa, her first 3 months.

While Mom is at physical therapy, I’m enjoying some quiet time at the local library.

When Monkey was an infant, I would come sit in the sunlight here, tearing through a magazine while she slept.

Getting out of the house with both of us clean and clothed felt like a huge victory in those days. (I just realized, it still feels like a victory.)

Buster and Monkey had their first story times here.

There used to be piles of puppets that Monkey loved to check out to have at home.

There was one puppet in particular that Buster loved (Time has erased from my memory which puppet it was.), and his anguish at having to return it to the library was only assuaged by the promise that we could look for it and take it home the next time we were there.

Our explanation of, “Other kids want a chance to take it home, too.” wasn’t heard with much enthusiasm.

Videos, because we had DVD players back then:

Magazines filled with craft ideas I browsed through with big dreams:

Hundreds of books and materials we took home from here to read in the big yellow house.

Reading time in the big yellow house with Best Babysitter Jessica (Who now has her own baby!):

Such a sunshiny place. It was healing to wander for an hour with the ghosts of my memories.