My mother (Sylvia McNicoll author of such hits as Bringing Up Beauty, Walking a Thin Line and Last Chance for Paris) was one of the talented writers presenting at the Telling Tales festival in Westfield Village. The kids missed their nap to watch the show, so I'm not sure how good of an audience we were. William ran around screaming on a fatigue-induced high, but was fairly well-behaved otherwise. Jadzia kept squawking, until I put her on the ground, then tried to escape.
The only other presenter we saw is an illustrator named Ruth Ohi, who I'm a pretty big fan of because she wrote Chicken, Pig and Cow, one of my favourite (er, I mean WILLIAM's favourite) picture books. I meant to buy her new book Chicken, Pig and Cow on the Move, so I could get it autographed, but I got distracted and didn't.
We also took in a puppet show, played with a parachute, did a craft, chatted up some olden days people, and petted some farm animals. The geese were gigantic. One of the sheep was named William.
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