The Days Were Nothing Special, But They Were Special All The Same

...Continued from yesterday:

      On Wednesday morning after delivering our grand daughters to school Tom and I headed to our favorite local breakfast eatery,

...where the food and service are always great,

​...but the hash browns are the best.

     That afternoon some friends came over after school, to play for a while,

...and help me make pizza.

​...which we all enjoyed after it came out of the oven.

   (For my easy, yummy and kid-friendly pizza recipe, see the post from 8/3/2017, "Where Has This Pizza Been All My Life?").

     One friend spent the night and she and my grand daughter spent the evening practicing for their parts in an upcoming class program called Living History, for which each child in the class chose a historical figure to research, write a first-person narrative on and "become" for the program.
      My grand daughter chose to become Orville Wright, one of the inventors of the airplane, and her friend chose to be Anne Frank, the Dutch Jewish girl whose diary presented a picture of the day-to-day life of her family while they hid from the Nazis in Amsterdam during World War II.
​          The girls rehearsing their reports in the morning before school.

    The Living History presentation began at 8:30 am in the classrooms and outside,
and consisted of groups of two historical figures sitting next to each other around the rooms, .or around the lawn,

​...or around the lawn, .or around the lawn, holding up signs identifying who they were.

   On the floor in front of each duo was a paper "button."

      When a visitor pressed the button, first one of the historical figures and then the other would stand and come to life and talk about themselves and their contribution to history while their partner held their sign.

     The presentations were full of surprisingly interesting and informative information,

...and the presenters cute as anything.

        And listening to these little figures of living history tell their stories,

...made my eyes tear up,

​...and filled my heart with hope.

    On Friday morning Tom and I decided to take a walk around the neighborhood,

 ...and ended up walking a couple of miles to Redondo Beach, where we came upon an eclectic and quite wonderful used bookstore called Dave's Olde Book Shop,

...which we found to be an enchanting place,

...to lose oneself in,

​...which we did.

   The very friendly book-loving owner Dave told us that movie scenes have been shot in his bookstore.

       I believe it. The place definitely looked like a movie set.

   Alas, enticed by the endless offerings, we bought more books than proved wise to have to lug for a couple of miles on foot.

   But then on the other hand, who can resist magic?

   On Friday evening Tom, Maria and I drove to Hermosa Beach for dinner at Scotty's, 

...a place of unpretentious decor but terrific food, such as their fantastic fish tacos,

...and a beach view.

   After dinner we joined the crowds out for a Friday night stroll along the Strand,

...catching the sunset over the ocean.

   On Saturday morning Tom flew back to Columbus but I stayed one more day, joining the other Saturday soccer moms, dads and grandparents,

...to watch my grand daughters play and my daughter coach,

...with her little crew of assistants at her feet.

    After all the soccer games we went out for lunch with some soccer friends to a South Bay Mexican Restaurant called Café Rio,

...where the food was awesome,

​...my chicken salad,

...as was the company.

     And the rest  was just a normal Saturday,

...followed by a normal Sunday morning,

...except that it was time for me to leave and return home to Columbus.
      ​    Is heaven not after all the now and here?

​...the daily things of life,

​...that are so dear?