a romp in the "sheep" fold

Ahhh, spring is here. We wore short sleeves today. In celebration (and because Flannery had an easy week), we decided to properly enjoy the day with an outdoor excursion. We headed out to the Sheep Fold. Although we’ve never been there, it’s an extension of our beloved reserve, so we expected great things. Well, instead of the Sheep Fold, they should call it the Dog fold, or more precisely the Poop fold. On first glance I thought we had come upon an obedience class or a dog club. The smell of poop was overwhelming. If there is one thing I won’t miss about Boston, it’s the dog poop. The playgrounds are mostly fine (mostly, not completely), but the open fields and woods are rife with it. And the sidewalks surrounding our old house were gross. But, I’ve no desire to turn this entry into an essay on why people in cities shouldn’t own dogs (especially since we were one of them last year).

Anyway, once we traversed the poop field and made our way into the woods all was fine. Sticks were found, rocks were climbed, campfires were made (sans fire), ponds were pelted with acorns, and a good time was had by all. And for those of you further trying to figure out Collin’s mind, I thought I’d relay another conversation.

Me: Hey, guess what? Uncle Mark and Dido and Joanna are coming to visit next month.

Collin: Uncle Mark? But I’ve never seen him juggle.

Me: Juggle? I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen him juggle either. Can Uncle Mark juggle?

Collin: Well, clowns can juggle.

Me: OK, but Uncle Mark (to my knowledge) is not a clown.

Collin: Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I see. (vigorously nodding head up and down)