Monday, February 4, 2013


I ordered some books from the library system in another county. However, I forgot to change the default pick-up location from our old zip code to a new branch nearer to us. So all the books I ordered went to the before.

We went to the nearer library after piano lessons of Friday, because the library just plain rocks--and I loaded up on a tote full. Then I drove by the old library because I had books waiting for us there. I turned onto a road and Lanie speaks up, "Hey! We're somewhere. I just don't remember where."

And then, "Our old library!"

How many weekly jaunts did we make here? How many read-alouds on the couch in the children's section? How many books did we check out from here? And how it carried us from board books to chapter books, from the kid side to the bigger kid side. The sweet Beatrix Potter collection sat still book ended on the information desk counter.

"Remember these, Erin?" I asked.

Both girls gushed over their "favorite" library, and I knew that it was the memories we made here that made it so special. It was such a part of our routine.

As we walked into the kids' section, I spied Lanie's kindergarten teacher from the old co-op we attended, and Lanie called out to her like she was in a dream, "Mrs. Garrison?"

Mrs. Garrison got up to greet us and gave Lanie a hug. The emotion on Lanie's face made me breathe deep. What love.

We talked quite a while, and it was lovely, and she was lovely, and I had new admiration for her and her love of littles.

The kids asked if they could check out books there, and I said yes. I took a picture of the monster in the window. Glad at how some things haven't changed.

And then we went home.

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