threeI used to always get butterflies on the first day of school. I’d be excited about my new classes, my new teacher, my new classmates. I’d imagine all the wonderful, exciting things that would happen to me that year.
Despite what Charlotte said, the butterflies were entirely lacking when I went down to the dining room last night. Charlotte found me a seat at a table with a kind couple and a rather absentminded woman in her eighties who asked me three times if I liked to knit. They were all perfectly nice, but it’s hardly what I’d call exciting.
Marjorie, the knitting inquirer, invited me to hang out in the TV room after dinner. It appears that’s a popular evening destination, since I saw several people heading in that direction.
Instead, I went up to my room and watched an old Britis
