Last night, our class went to the library to play around with the databases, catalog, and such.  Seems like adult students miss the opportunity—mostly because they lack the time—to research subjects that interest them and learn about search terms and narrow/broadening topics.  So, play and curiosity.  Somebody researched the Isley Brothers.  Right at the beginning, LaT. broke down into tears and said she didn’t think she could do school, that her brain couldn’t take it all in.  What was daunting her was the prospect of coming up with a thesis and writing 5-7 pages on Evan S. Connell’s Mrs. Bridge.  Right away, she said, “I know most people think Mrs. Bridge was fussy and overly concerned with how the family appeared to the outside, but I think she was a good mother.”  We took it from there.  It’s times like that I love my job and feel grateful that I get to spend time with people like her.

After I got home last night, Edie and I sang Old Macdonald and rolled around on the floor then JB fake snored which cracked her up and made her clap. Nicodemus tagged her just below the eye last night in response to her torturing him with hugs and kisses.  Yesterday morning she ate a whole bowl of oatmeal with molasses.

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