Ivy: “Mom! I saw your yoga!”
I am confused.
I don’t do yoga.
I’m not sure that I have “a yoga.”
I’m not sure what “a yoga” would be.
I ask for clarification.
I get none.
After a long circular conversation Ivy sighs with exasperation and goes to show me “my yoga.”
The bookshelf, which I might add, goes floor to ceiling, has enough room for all my books and my baby gargoyle.
The unpacking is coming along.
Slowly but surely it’s coming along!