One night (long, loooong ago—during my freshmen year of college!), my parents, some friends, and I dined together in La Crosse, WI. The party consisted of my roommate (and best bud) Sarah, my across-the-hall pal Anna (for pronunciation: think fauna, not fanna), her mother, my mother, my father and me. We went to a placed called Edwardo's, and the six of us split into separate parents' and children's' tables.

Being the brilliant young scholars that we were, we immediately flipped over our place mats and reached for the crayons.

We were coloring for 5ish minutes when Sarah made a sound of disgust. She gestured angrily at Anna and me. She said to me, "YOU! YOOOOUUUU always draw flowers! Always a flower! FLOWER FLOWER FLOWER! I'm sick of flowers!" Then, looking to Anna, "And YOU! YOOOOUUUU always draw ponies! Always a pony! PONY PONY PONY! I'm sick of ponies!" Dividing her gaze between the two of us, "YOU TWO have NO imagination! I draw EVERYTHING. Harrrumph!" Sarah is as silly (and as sweet) as a person can get.

Anna has changed quite a bit from that night. I think she still likes ponies best, but now she draws other stuff too. She also sews and knits and does lots of really talented things.

I remembered this vignette as I was walking this morning. I was out to clear my head. I grabbed our camera on the way out, thinking I might capture a touch of spring along my lake. I returned from the exercise much refreshed. I looked through my digital shots and found...flowers. Lots and lots of flowers. Obviously, I haven't progressed so artistically as my good friend Anna.

Erm...and I just caught sight of the post from yesterday. There really is no hope left for me.