Yesterday didn't turn out exactly as I expected.
The plan was to attend Granddaughter #3's gymnastics team's mid-day exhibition and then go to my brother's house to visit with him and his daughter and her family, who are visiting from out of state. By the time the gymnastics performances started, the visit with my niece's family had been cancelled, so instead of heading to my brother's house, we took Granddaughter #3 and her family to a late lunch.
The gymnastics exhibition was sweet. About 20 little girls did the same routines, one after the other. They flipped and tumbled and pranced. So cute, especially the smallest gymnast in the group, who gave it all she had, seemingly without fear or nervousness.
Granddaughter #4 ("The Little Rotten Baby" from past posts) is also in gymnastics, but her age group did not perform. It would probably have been like herding cats. She did, however, pull off a couple of wobbly cartwheels on the sidelines between events. At almost 4, she is still rotten. Living in a house full of teen or pre-teen sisters, she picks up things. After the exhibition, as we were standing around with her family, discussing what we wanted to eat, she asked me, "Do you have any cash?"
The Husband and I made it home about 4 o'clock. I spent most of the afternoon reading Serepta Jordan's diary entries. In one of them, she used her aunt's term, "pain under the apron," in reference to menstrual cramps. Such phrases are just the type of gems I'm looking for.
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