Nana flew back to Georgia yesterday and I miss her--but we're already planning a spring trip.
We had such a good time, including doing a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle, which I find very quieting and meditative, calling and being called upon by repair people, short visits with friends who dropped in, and fun visits with Will and Veronica and the kids.
On one of our outings, Nathan suggested we play riddles. For a while, Elena got lots of answers right and made up good ones of her own. She was happy. I've noticed that people of all ages are happy when we know the right answers.
Then Nathan moved into Greek myths. "I am the daughter of Zeus," etc.
We were in familiar enough territory that I got all but one of his Greek riddles--and that, frankly, is because the answer was wrong. Somewhere along the line, he'd come up with a Greek goddess named Alice!
Suddenly, Elena dropped out of the game and got into her mother's lap. She had that look on her face that told us all she was tuning up for a cry. She was frustrated that the questions had veered past what she knew.
"What's wrong, Elena?" I asked.
"I don't know any gods!" she said.
So today I ordered her a book of Greek mythology. I wouldn't want her to be left out if the next riddle game turns Greek.
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