And I really loved it. I took it with me when I went back east as a Nanny and hung it on the wall in my living room. Or actually I think I meant to hang it on the wall but never got around to it. Which is why it dwelt against the wall behind the couch while I lived there.
Unfortunately, it continued to dwell against the wall behind the couch after I lived there, too. Meaning that I left it there when I moved back west. I was sad. I mourned the loss of that poster for years.
Then one year for my birthday Greg presented me with a hand painted copy of that same scene. He had his sister's friend, who is a painter and often paints copies for people, paint it for me. He hadn't told me anything about it and it was a huge surprise. I love it. And I love him.
And I also love that my sister gave me a magnet of that painting to go on my fridge because she knows how I feel about it.
And I also love that yesterday Aaron brought the magnet off the fridge and into the living room and kept pointing up at the painting and then at the magnet, over and over. Then he got me to lift him up to the painting and he tried to stick the magnet to it repeatedly, with a little grunt at the effort. They just seemed to belong together somehow to him.
(I wish I had a photo of my painting for you to see. Really, it looks so much like the original that most people would not know the difference.)