Well, my optimism continues, here . . . After his last class, Charlie came home with three little pieces of metal, each one a piece he'd done in class to practice "puddling," as they say. He was very proud of himself; he said he was one of the best people in the class at this activity, despite the fact that he's never touched a torch before in his life. He seemed surprised, but I wasn't; he's always had a great deal of physical coordination in just about every way a person can manifest it. (Starting with the way he picked up his peas from his high chair tray. It's amazing how kids are "just born that way," isn't it?)

The longer this goes on, the happier I get. I would be absolutely thrilled (and not a little relieved) if Charlie has found himself a niche. (By "niche" I don't mean a small place, necessarily - I mean a comfortable place.)

That's all I have time for right now - but I do have pix from my bike commute waiting to be uploaded. First in the queue, though (as you might imagine), is climbing Mt. Grademore . . .