I SIMPLY MUST TELL YOU,

 Reader Dear, about the surprising stroke of luck that opened up my world the other evening! (Well, for sure it opened up a wide view of a small part of it, anyway)

First of all, it was Valentine's Day--already some luck there, if you've got someone to take you to a play (I did)!  The Yard Man and I, we had tickets for And Then There Were None, an Agatha Christie whodunnit.

Actually, there was luck involved in just having the tickets!  When I had called the box office earlier in the week, the gentleman to whom I spoke began to tell me they were sold out, no seats available for Saturday night.  Then he paused.  "Wait a minute," he said.  "I see two seats have opened up!  They're down in the orchestra, row H.  Those are good seats!"  Then he added.  "Everything else is full."

Too, we were lucky to get through the snow and wind and bitter cold, and arrive at the theater well before the curtain opened.

An usher helped us find our seats, and, ah, yes, they were good ones.  But only ( I hesitate to add) if no one too tall should come along and lower the lengthy body they possessed into the seat directly in front of mine!  (It's the dread of every vertically-challenged person).

It was the cliffhanger prior to the cliffhanger--would I have a comfortable view?  Would I try to wad up my coat and sit on it, and still be craning my neck?  Would I rue the fact that The Yard Man had stashed his coat in the lobby?  I was on edge, waiting for an answer.  Theater-goers gradually filled up vacancies around the two of us.  An extra-large couple found their way to Row G, and studied the seat numbers.  "This is it!"  I said to The Yard Man, under my breath.  But, no, they settled themselves well out of my view.

Minutes ticked by.  And, then, a six-footer of a man excused himself to one person after another, and made his way down Row G. There were only a few empty seats remaining.  "Aaahhh," I whispered to The Yard Man, "He's the one! I should have known!"  I sighed.


He wasn't the one.

In fact, Dear Reader of mine, NO ONE was the one!  As the curtain rose, that seat directly in front of mine remained empty.  In that whole crowded theater, that open seat remained open!

And, as if to say "happy valentine's day to ya," here's the thing that had me gleeful and amazed and chortling at my fantastic good fortune:
"Can you believe it?!" I said to The Yard Man.  "Every seat is filled except for the one directly in front of me...and the TWO that are DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF THAT ONE!!

It's true, Viewer Dear.  Row G had an empty seat, Row F had two empty seats,  every other seat in that packed Orchestra Section was occupied by a full-sized body with a head on his or her shoulders!



The second cliff-hanger was very entertaining!  The Yard Man and I both enjoyed the show, tried to figure out who was killing off the cast.  We knew it could not end well. 

 But the first cliff-hanger--now, that's the one, Dear Reader, with a happy ending!  (I'd have never suspected!)

THE LITTLE ACTOR AND I

took an excursion to The Science Factory yesterday afternoon.  It was his mother who suggested that we visit the place, and when I picked him up at his house to escort him there, she told me, "I think you're going to like it!"

The Little Actor had been to this hands-on museum prior to our visit, but this was my introduction to it.  And, oh, Reader Dear, I recommend the place if you're hankering for an afternoon spent enjoying a roomful of  curious and  fascinating playthings!


The first thing to pique my interest was the fact that two darkly-dressed, hat-wearing, gentlemen were at the ticket counter when the Little Actor and I arrived.  They had no children in tow.  After learning about membership passes, I surmised that they had been purchasing these membership passes for their families-full-of-children to enjoy another day.  It was my best scientific theory, and that's what it will have to remain, as the men soon left, providing no further clues.*

 For everything else that The Little Actor and I encountered at this museum, there were scientific explanations provided.  

Detailed signs
told us why the blocks we built into an arch did not come crashing down. 
And they provided an explanation for the stick-to-it-iveness of magnets.







Make a Sculpture! the sign encouraged.
"Ohhh!"  I rhapsodized to The Little Actor."This is my favorite thing, so far!"

But, then, right away there was a new favorite!

We spent an awful lot of our minutes stuffing cloth parachutes into the tube that sucked them up and shot them high into the air!

It was a favorite for both of us; but, when another small boy joined our two-person line at the parachute tube, I stepped aside and checked out the Triangle of Mirrors.

Listener Dear, you were not there to hear my loud and delighted chortling when I ducked into this contraption and met up with hundreds of other selves, all pointing cameras at one another!

When I convinced The Little Actor to join me, we, with our four waving arms, became a throng of revelers!  It was a sight to see!

 Viewer Dear, I can't begin to show you all the exhibits... (Of course, I can! It's what I just did--begin to show you).

Dear Viewer, I can't show you all the fascinating exhibits, alas.

I'll end with the very activity with which we ended.  At the start of our visit, The Little Actor had led me straightaway to a table with bins filled with building pieces.  Immediately, he knew what he would build--a race car!

"Why don't you make a helicopter!" he suggested.
(He had to help me only minimally).

Because this was his favorite thing in the whole museum (well, maybe after the parachutes [or maybe not], we ended our visit at this table, as well.

He built the helicopter.
I built the race car, and did a pretty good job on my own.

And then it was imperative that we leave, because the sun was moving on down the sky (Not a scientific fact, Reader Dear! [For scientific facts (and lots of fun) I hope you can visit the Science Factory yourself (with a small person or two to show you 'round).
If you're anything like me, you're going to like it!
......


*Entirely possible, I suppose, that these two were eager to gain a membership for themselves, alone.  One could theorize that they wished to change into less formal clothing and come back another day to play (The world is so full of possibilities). I'm sticking, however,  with my original theory.

THERE WAS THE

Evening of Cheese.  One afternoon earlier this week, The Yard Man called me from the food co-op where he works and told me about this event. "I don't know exactly what it will be like; it might be weird.*  But it's all about cheese, so I think it will be good."  

"Let's go," I said. "Should we stop for supper somewhere first?" I asked.
"Yeah, we probably should," he said. "Come pick me up here.  We'll get something to eat on our way over there."

But, as it turned out, Dear Reader, we didn't have time to stop for a non-dairy meal.  We went straight to the Evening of Cheese.
There we discovered twenty or so vendors, all giving generous samples of their dairy products, predominantly cheeses.  They came from various East Coast states, with a few local cheese-makers represented.  For a ten-dollar ticket, one could sample to one's heart's delight...hard cheeses, soft cheeses.  Fancy cheeses, plain cheeses.  Sweet cheeses, savory cheeses.  

The vendors were enthused about their wares and eager to discuss their various cheese-making techniques.  Since this Evening of Cheese was the culmination of a two-day conference for cheese makers, many of the cheese samplers were cheese makers themselves.

  In addition to all the cheese, there was yogurt, platters of fresh fruit, bread, jams (even hot drinks and doughnuts on a side table!)

As we drove away, an hour and a half later, sated with the evening's offerings, I exclaimed to The Yard Man, "It's been a while since we've been to anything so cheesy, but what a fine supper!"

......
*Epilogue:  It was kind of weird, Reader Dear: I'm not such a big connoisseur of cheese, ordinarily eat it sparingly.  Here, you'd have thought I was a mouse in Cheese Heaven, the way I ooh-ed and aah-ed and scampered around those cheese-laden tables!

OH, ALL THAT WATER OVER THE DAM,

Reader Dear! It has long since rippled its way out to sea.  I can only snatch up a few highlights, glittering in the waves:

There were two birthday parties!
The Tiny Actor had one of the two, when he turned two.
Everyone at the party had a ball,

and in the end, a cupcake!

.........


The other party was in honor of the birthday of Only Son.
All my diminutive actors were at the birthday supper, along with their caretakers.  There was the Pizza course. The Ice-cream Cake course.  And the Birthday Hugs, (of) course.

                                       








 

If you stay on board the boat, Viewer Dear,
I'll show you more.
.........

AH, DEAR VIEWER,

sometimes known as Listener Dear.  Always, my Dear Reader Dear.
Will you ever read and view and listen once again?