I was very bushed when I got home, but Ayla was there waiting for me. She was delighted that poppy was home. I laid on the bed where they were playing, her and grammy, and I tried to get kisses, but she was still in tease phase. Then, "poppy, read bok, 'tudy", very clearly, she wanted me to take her into my study and read her books. I have a basket of books on the chest beside my big ol' chair. So that's just what we did (I took a glass of white wine and a glass of water with me). The first thing we do when I get home and open the study door is give her "treats". I keep a big glass jar of sugar free treats (cookies from the "health" food store) in my study, so as soon as I open the door, she goes right for the big old glass jar. I love the ring the lid makes, glass-to-glass as she hefts it off the jar and sets it on the rug. I generally pull the boxes out, having caught up to her by then and set my work stuff (bags, hats, wallets, and so forth) on the stand in my study by the door and on the various hangers that adorn the wall there. She get's, usually, one of each treat, we're down to about 2 boxes, of mostly crumbling cookies. I need to replenish soon, because she always checks out the picture on each cookie, and it's getting hard to tell what the pieces are of.

This time, having treated her as soon as I came home as usual, we sat in the chair, her little soft body on mine. I turned music on, and she did arm dances for awhile, then had to get down and do a real dance. She very expressive, and is dramatic relative to the music that is playing. It was some long, strange jam by cheese, and she held her little poses, waiting for the music to move her differently. I can't tell you how sweet that was, how perfect. Then she found the book I keep out that Amy gave me one teenage year. It's about a dancer and her dad who dies. It makes me cry when I read it, and this time I read it to Ayla with the little girl being Amy, and the dad being poppy (and when the little girl groes up and get's married, I insert a baby she has named Ayla, and we have a little sub-story about that.

She listens intently. I went through all of the books, with her occasionally reminding me "mon books" (mon=more). Again, I can't really describe what it feels like, to have her sitting on my, lounging back just like I am lounging in the chair, against my belly.her sweet mess of hair at my nose, her languid arms and legs dangling tiny and white against my brown belly and legs.