Perhaps you know or perhaps you don’t, but every Saturday morning at the Chestertown Farmer’s Market, there is a quiet little corner just for kids. Called Hebbe’s Garden, after the goddess of youth (who just happens to sit atop the fountain in the middle of the square), the fun runs from 10-12 and usually comes in the form of two separate offerings, whether a chance to learn about a local school or the opportunity to hear a couple of local yahoos read from their children’s book collection.
There you have it. Ironclad evidence that Robbi and I have taken another step in our insidious plan to take over Chestertown, one impressionable mind at a time.
Perhaps you require further evidence? We’re glad you asked.
Satisfied?
Still don’t believe us? Fine. Here we are in the park. Notice Robbi. Notice the small but attentive group of children. Robbi is holding a copy of The Girl With Frogs in Her Ears, reading the parts of Vera and Vera’s mom while I read the parts of the narrator and the ogre. Look at the children rapt and attentive. Notice how even our own children are behaving.
As is our custom when reading Girl With Frogs, we paused afterward to teach the kids how to play Simple Jim, a game that we made up for the book. A game that just happens to require nothing more than two people and one bent playing card.
Stella was a quick study.
Mary-Jane and Alden had a hard time breathing, they were laughing so hard.
Even Mary-Jane’s mom got in on the fun.
After everyone had had his fill of Simple Jim, we moved on to Archipelago. This time, I held the book while Robbi read the story. Together, the kids all practiced saying long and complicated words. They did a fantastic job.
I hadn’t realized it, but there must be a glum, solemn moment somewhere in the middle of Archipelago.
Look at those faces. You would think we were reading Crime and Punishment.
While you’re here, take a gander at Alden’s getup. I’m not sure where she got her fashion sense. Would that I had been so bold at age five.
So you know, Hebbe’s Garden is the brainchild of Francoise Sullivan, mom extraordinaire and proprietress of web design firm Moo Productions. We and many others thank her for everything she does for local kids.
In the case that you are angry and/or regretful that you were not there, apparently, we did well enough to be invited back. Next time, we promise to give you a bit of notice.