Is it weird of me to be thinking about this poem by the incomparable Dr. Maya Angelou simply because I'm baking bread? I mean, one has nothing to do with the other. But here I am, listening to my bread machine finish the "rise" cycle, wondering why this poem came to mind. I listen as my beloved prince is watching one of his favorite DVDs which happens to be the entire collection of School House Rock . I listen as he scripts some of the scenes. His new thing is have the captions active, so he can read a long with the characters. Not sure who taught him how to use a remote. Guess he inherited that 'innate ability to figure stuff out' from me. {smile} His precious voice fills our home like a beautiful melody. If not for the sound of the heater, his voice would be the only sound I'd hear. I am not in any rush for him to grow up. Each day is appreciated and celebrated. Today was a good day, and I am grateful. So, what's any of this have to do with Dr. ...