Last night we saw at least five family members, two coming from up above the marina vista bridge and two or three coming from above the footbridge. It was one of those days when beavers appeared from so many places at once they were hard to keep track of. I told Lory it reminded me of this cartoon:
We were craning our necks at every turn struggling to catch a glimpse of teats that would assure of us a new generation – no luck on that front yet. Their impressive dam reassures us that new family members are being protected. But I personally can’t understand why the 2 year olds haven’t dispersed yet if there are new kits in the mix. We will just have to be patient, and give the beavers time to show us the answer at the leisure.
Speaking of things I hate to do, here is another doozey. Not talking about something really, really exciting. I mean even if there’s a perfectly good reason not to talk about it. And you promised people you respect very much. I remember being a child and going christmas shopping for my mom with my older sisters. They would sternly warn me as to the pact of secrecy and I would promise over and over again not to tell what we got her and explain that I was older now are reassure them I understood. And off we would go shopping to Cost Plus or Penny’s and pick out whatever pretty trinket I could afford.
But as soon as we came back I would burst open like a confetti balloon and explain how wonderful the earrings or vase that we had picked out were going to be. Even before they were wrapped I had to tell her. It was just too exciting. The thought of having my mother’s undiluted attention for the entire twenty seconds it would take to deliver the message was just too much for my little brain to resist. My sisters would be furious. And swear I was never going with them next time. I would feel horrible and immature. But the next year the whole thing would happen all over again.
Now that was a long time ago. Why bring up this old story?
Oh, no particular reason.
