The Sunday Zoo

I have begun to realize that I work too much and when I'm not working I'm thinking about working. I think this is, unfortunately, pretty normal for Waldorf Teachers. Then, last Thursday a colleague handed me an article about planning fun and the necessity of purposely planning activities that are fun. In one way it seemed obvious :: we love the zoo, so let's go to the zoo! But it was harder than I thought to walk away from dirty dishes in the kitchen, and clothes strewn about the bedroom. Gah!

But how many times did I think of those dirty dishes while I was walking and walking and walking around the San Francisco Zoo? None! That was very nice. It was a great afternoon.

The only purpose of this picture is to show off my newest bag that I crafted last weekend... and perhaps to embarrass myself in a few years when my sunglasses have become SO 2010.


Lemurs and monkeys were the first stop, per Annabelle's request. The monkeys were in full form, playing chase and swinging around and teasing each other. Don't you just want to pick up this little lemur and cuddle him?


I must have taken thirty photographs of Annabelle on the carousel trying to catch her in the frame and in the mood of the ride...


...the horse wanted his own picture.


This fellow will certainly find his way to my chalkboard at school!


They had an insect exhibit in the children's zoo area and a man was holding this Walking Stick bug and allowing people to pet it. So I stuck my hand out and held the camera in the other hoping the bug would crawl on me... and it did! But the man became very uncomfortable, "Oh! I'm not allowed to let anyone hold it! Uh oh! No, no! That's not okay!" The bug's feet were incredibly sticky and I could not pull my hand away! I started laughing and he became more agitated and the whole situation was hilarious to me but I think that the man was breaking a sweat by the time he had the bug back.

I often notice how people become uncomfortable or shy when their hands touch. We use our hands for absolutely everything, yet when we touch our hands together it feels so incredibly intimate, especially when we do it by mistake. I had not intended to touch this man's hand but did, and then when the bug was attached to both of us I could not help it... and in my own discomfort I began to laugh and in his, he began to panic. It was such a human moment. I wanted to turn the camera towards him and take a picture of his face, but my sympathy overran that impulse.


After we told Annabelle that it was time to go she requested the park map, stood still in the middle of the path and pointed out everything we had not yet done. I explained that in the course of five hours I was certain we walked through everything, but Annabelle looked up with an expression of pure deprivation and exclaimed, "But we missed the dinosaurs!"