So Friday we went down to throw the bread in the water.
mr. delagar thought maybe we could just go to Ben Geren Park and do this, instead of to the Arkansas River, as Friday was a viciously hot and sunny day (as Rosh Hashanah tends to be in these here parts) and as we had invited The Other Liberal Professor and hers over to celebrate the New Year with us, and they were to arrive at six, and mr. d. had lots of cooking to do if he was to have things ready by then.
But no! The kid objects!
Apparently when we thought we had just been doing stuff, we had been forming Traditions!
"We have to go to the river!" she cries. "It's a tradition! We have to go across the railroad tracks! And Mama has to make that joke! And I have to walk on the rock wall, and Mama has to make the other joke, about the word that starts with e and ends with e and has only one letter in it! And we have to walk around the old fort! And--"
So off we went. And it was a beautiful day, mind you. The sun on the river was brilliant, and the wind was fine, and we saw an egret wading, and I do love the rocks. And I made the joke, which was the one my father always used to make to us, whenever we crossed a set of railroad tracks (which is, "Hey, I see a train has been here!" "Oh? How can you tell?" "Heh! It left its tracks!" How long, exactly, will the kid continue to be amused by this? About two more years, if my record holds) and we made it back in time for dinner.
Oh yes -- and we did the winter dance, and it is nicely frosty here again today.
So all is well.
17 hours ago