“My sorrow, when she's here with me, thinks these dark days of autumn rain are beautiful as days can be..." *

It’s a cold, rainy day – perfect for hanging out in the attic, playing with trains. And when you’ve built the entire island of Sodor, then it’s time to set up the little IKEA tent and watch Terzo push his little plastic trucks in and out, and in and out, and in and out, of the tent door for an hour while I lie on the futon and reread for the gazillionth time The President’s Daughter. (What with Ellen Emerson White FINALLY coming out with a new book about Meg and her family, at the end of this month, it seemed like a good reread.)

We just walked up to preschool in the drizzle and fetched Seg, and now I am on my way upstairs with a picnic lunch – nothing fancy: pb&j sandwiches, pretzels, apple slices, chocolate milk. We will lunch in the tent (those of us who fit – in other words, NOT ME), and this afternoon I will bake a spice cake I haven’t tried before from Michael Lee West’s Consuming Passions, and make some baked salmon and a pan of Brussel sprouts with bacon and Yukon Gold potatoes for dinner, and the boys will play Battleship and Clue Jr. and Pokemon, and the rain can keep drumming down on the roof.


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* Robert Frost