fairy stick

On another evening, I might be inclined to divulge to you - at length, as I am wont to do - the tender stories running through my heart just now. How I cried at the dinner table during a recent tantrum. How I am in the midst of saying goodbye to twenty-one extraordinary clients this week (twenty-one termination sessions! I mean, really.). How our fast-approaching Grand Adventure is feeling mostly hard and not very exciting at the moment. (And how I can't admit that because I feel obligated to carry the positive torch around here. Somehow has to, right?). How I love the feel of everyone else's babies at Gabriel's baseball games, pulling up on my legs and wrapping their sweet bare arms around my neck.

And oh, it probably goes without saying: how the delight I take in the babies in my life has a faint yet unmistakable bittersweet edge.

Rather than examine those raw-edged transitions, let us instead turn our attention to the Fairy Stick.

Beatrice named it. A few mornings ago we had an extra hour together before I went to work and so we invented a magical instrument. Does it call the fairies out of hiding and draw them towards you? Does it impart the kind of magic a fairy possesses upon its owner? Does it turn its owner into an actual fairy? Unclear. But it definitely works.

All you need is a wand-length stick. Then you pull out your favorite yarn and wrap, wrap wrap it all up. Tie some loose ends at the end. Voila! Fairy magic is within your grasp. You can even use it on your own mother.

Beatrice brought it to her sitter Danielle's house, along with supplies for Jolie and Kaya to make their own fairy sticks. What a sight, to pick her up after work and see the three girls spreading all that fairy magic around on the front lawn!