The first page says, "Fern kept a journal. (Most giraffes don't, you know.) She kept it because she liked the way it smelled, the way it looked lying open, blank, with light on it. And sometimes she even wondered what she might write in it."
The second page says, "There wasn't much to say, really, when it came right down to it. When you have beans in your feet, just how exciting can life be?"
Dana, bless her, picked up this giraffe for me the other day. We christened the cute little thing last night after a brief but alarming search (Ulysees? Ted? Edwina? Thank you, no). Boomer finally read "Fern," and there it was. Obvious. Like all names should be. This afternoon I set her on a stump and drew her. And later during band practice I set her on her "journal" and drew her again. The text of page one came to me while cleaning my shower. Most of my brilliant ideas occur in or near the shower. Page two came much later and was in no proximity to the shower. We'll see if it stands up as well as the first.
