My favorite thing about having preschoolers is hearing the language learned.   At the table we are always asking Bun, age 3, "Would you like more to eat?  Would you like more to drink?"  And she doesn’t hesitate to  let us know, "Yes, I’d like more to drink.  I’d like more to eat.  I’d like more to ice cream.  I’d like more to peaches."

 

The first of the blackberries came in, at that abandoned lot I mentioned earlier this spring.  They were small and dry and bitter, I expect due to the drought.   A friend reports her blueberries had the same problem.

 

Not discouraged, all children wanted more to blackberries.  Our second harvest offered better fruit, having had a few good rains while they were while they were ripening.   Trip number three, perhaps at the end of this week or the beginning of next, promises to do even better.

 

Our own berry patch is not producing much fruit.  Squirrells are proving very agressive foragers — they dug up my hot pepper seeds! — and seven-year-old boys are not especially effective squirell-hunters.   We do have a few green tomatoes on the patio, tomatoes which tremble every time a certain three-year-old passes; our only hope is that their neighbor the pansies are still holding forth valiantly, despite drought, heat, deluges, and preschoolers.

 

In other answers to the question, "What do you do all day?", our neighbor recently had his cedar siding replaced with vinyl.  Friendly contracters, evidently not concerned about the litigious society, happily let us haul off as much of the old stuff as we wanted.  I gave the kids a one-wheelbarrow-load limit.  We came when the guys were working on the dormer windows, so we gathered all short boards, which is just well with four-foot-tall woodworkers.

 

Mr. Boy spent about two days removing nails, and LP sanded the boards as much as she thought necessary.    The castle yard now boasts one cedar-sided teepee, and one kindergarten-sized pergola.   Both likely to be dissassembled and put to new uses as the summer wears on. 

 

 

 

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