Another Communique from the World of Nature

Yesterday was P's birthday and also orientation night at the V-meister's new school.

It was an evening of peaceful exploration, a way to help the children ease into the school year. And because it's a Montessori school, it was all very informal. And gentle.

To wit: a couple of four year-old boys patiently instructed Vija in the work of washing and drying dishes at the mini Montessori sink. (The practical skills part of the Montessori curriculum was what sold my husband on it: They learn how to shine shoes? Wash windows? Make cappuccinos? Sign her up!)

She was eyeing that little sink all night, but it was a popular attraction and always very congested. Finally, I urged her to ask the boys who were using it if they could show her how to do the work.

And she marched right up in her size 4T uniform (where does the time go?), which she had insisted on wearing although it was not required, and asked in a delicate accent,

"Show Vija please how to wash dishes?"

And, bless their generous little hearts, they happily obliged!

(If that had been me at age four? Your turn is not yet! A pox on your house and may all your goats die.)

But these Montessori kids, they're different.

As it turns out, the V-meister's enrollment in this gem of a school is the result of a stroke of dumb luck on the part of her hapless parents. We learned last night that it's the "best kept Montessori secret" in these parts. Everyone kept asking who referred us. How could we admit we picked it out of the phone book during an elaborate drinking game?

The P-dog told them it was Maria Montessori, but quickly retracted when informed that she's fifty years dead.

And guess what?

As we were walking out, basking in the rosy Montessori afterglow and before I went ballistic upon discovering that the J-Dog's diaper had soaked through, I saw an entire herd of little deer feasting on the leaves in the grove next to the building!

These deer, you guys, they were truly Bambi-esque, not like that stag that almost killed me last week.

And this time, they communicated to me that we had made the right choice for Vija's education and that Owen Wilson is going to be OK .

They also wished the P-Dog a happy birthday.

And it was all good.