Norman Mailer's apartment is for sale. It looks like a neat place to play, but maybe only if they sell it with the books, and I'd definitely want them to reinstall the rope swing and hammock that once hung from the ceiling. Then again, at 2.5 million dollars? I never really was a fan of his.
The snow was gone this morning, but in its place was a thin layer of ice. Thin, mind you, but as I type this it is hailing, and I'm really starting to wonder about spring.
Calvin's last class in the late-winter swim session was this morning. You hear that, spring? That was the last of the late winter classes.
He did really well, improved a lot, and had a great time. We'll repeat the preschool class at least once more, though, and I'm hoping to get him signed up for the spring session (hear that spring?).
And we spent some time in Spain today (we've done that for the past week, actually, but today I'm taking the time to two finger type about it). Mostly explored the map, and we also spent some time at the Prado. Books are wonderful, aren't they? They can take you just about anywhere.
Cookie really wanted to go with us, or else she has a thing about paper on the floor. I'll leave you to decide which of those is more likely, but we've all seen her getting friendly with paper before.