We've been spending the last month reading "On the Banks of Plum Creek" by Laura Ingalls Wilder for our read a loud and all of the chapters on their long winter, unending storms have echoed strangely in our own home. The end of February and beginning of March have brought snow and though we are more than ready for spring to arrive, there is still a certain wonder to the lacy ice that blanketed our land. In between romps outside we've spent endless hours reading books. It is one of the sweetest gifts ever to see the girls reading together. I don't know why I ever worried about them loving to read as I do. Now a days the conversation is more like: "you have to stop reading and put clothes on to go to church" or "your food is getting cold, save that chapter for later".
