Looks like we may be going to the capital. A D.C. quaker lady offered two rooms in her house on the metroline. Dad said aight!, mom said no but not NO no, just the usual what I now take to be automatic response to any offer or invitation.
Or am I dreaming? If so, it's a good dream.
I remember three summers back, at the zoo with the seven-year-old triplets. We'd finally all gotten the nerve to go up in the hot air baloon (or should I say finally talked little Lamarr into it). Looking out over Philadelphia Damear was sure he could just make out the white house. More recently Mahad thought the same when he and I went to the top of City Hall to talk to William Penn. As if in looking into the distance they actually saw into the future.
A future with them and their parents watching Obama being sworn in, with a visit to the less-white-now white house, to Mr. Lincoln sitting so patiently and to Constitution Hall to see some old parchment paper encased in glass but not encased any more -- soaring now like an eagle, from california to the New York island.
This land, this day, this January 20th was made for you and me. And for the triplets.
