They grow up

Here is one of the benefits of being my age:  I have had the privilege of watching my friends' children grow up. 

Last night, following a garden party thrown by a dear and talented friend—she writes, she takes photographs, she teaches, she teaches me how to teach and listens when I fail—we gathered in her daughter's lampworking studio to watch two rods of Pyrex become a new breed of dinosaur.  I have loved my friend's daughter and her sisters since I met them years ago.  About sisterhood, music, joy, words, they have taught me.  This time the lesson was the taffy-ness of near glass, the neck stretch of a heated allosaurus, the power of passion for a talent accidentally discovered. 

I came home with an iridescent snake that I will wear with great pride around my neck.