No, strike that. Freja has a stack of mail to go through. And letters and postcards keep coming in. And we are SO FAR BEHIND. Far enough behind that only the use of ALL CAPS will get my point across.
So the third piece of mail arrived hot on the heels of the first two, and it was from Nancie Imler, who I know from my Dancing Years (very deserving of capitalization).
First, came the envelope:
PUPPIES! PUPPIES, PUPPIES, PUPPIES!
Paper and envelope glue. The bane of a young child's existence.
And then, of course, she saw the card inside:
No, Freja. This does not mean you can have a puppy.
No. Clutching the card to your heart in an adorable fashion will not sway me.
Once I could pry the card from her fingers, we went to the computer and looked up all sorts of things. We looked up the town (City? I'm not how large the population has to be before it makes that jump. (Even my Google skills fail me. Apparently, it's a vague area between the two.)) of Carlisle, the Central Pennsylvania Youth Ballet (where I spent almost the entirety of my teenage years), and even Carrie Imler, a principal dancer with the Pacific Northwest Ballet (and also Nancie's extraordinarily talented daughter).
And after all of that, Freja sat down to pen (pencil? crayon?) her reply, which I failed to photograph (I blame lack of proper sleep, caffeine, and any combination of those two things) but I did copy down her words to repeat here:
Dear Nancie,
Thank you for your card! It has two puppies on it! One puppy opens, two puppies open!
I looked at Carlisle on the computer. It is an old town. It's my favorite place! I liked the dancers because they're dancing.
I want to come to Carlisle soon!
Love, Freja
I like dancers because they dance, too, Freja.
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