Another fine gathering at the FPL. The kids trickled in late–which worried me as I had made a full tray of our traditional cheese melts and a chocolate cake.
Our volunteer, Alex came first, driving one car, her father in another. “I’ll meet you back here for the drive home,” he said. She assured him that she could do it solo.
I was ready for us to start sorting books–there is always chaos to tame at the FPL, but then Brianna and her cousin Jada strolled up the driveway. They decorated the cake with pale blue icing and a sample of nearly every sprinkle in the cupboard.
Then Vivienne and her father, Alex (I know double-Alex), arrived, one of them running. We began working on improv–our reader’s theater was so much fun last week I figured we’d do theater for a while. Klark fell in during the first exercise, then Olivia.
We tried telling a story one word at a time, each person tagging their word to the ones that had come before it. We ended up on Pluto.
I think my favorite exercise was the one in which two people spoke in fake foreign languages following each other’s emotional cues. They were angry, conciliatory, surprised. They argued and consoled. I swear, they all sounded like they were speaking genuine languages.
We sat on the floor, ready do do another improv exercise when Vivienne suggested a game of Telephone. Mine were not the only defective ears in the circle.
Olivia had a new collection of markers so we set up tables and broke out art supplies. We agreed that the art on the walls needed some updating. I now have a small stack of fresh art to replace the yellowed drawings of yesteryear.
We then dug up and reburied Fred Brick. (It was suggested that we now call him Dead Brick). Someone suggested we dig him up again in a year–not sure where that tradition would fit into the whole burial thing.
The kids went home, Olivia carrying a chunk of cake for her dad, Brianna with some colorful peppers to snack on.
A lot of fun.