Margaret and I spend yesterday morning in the great outdoors.*
It was bright and sunny and beautiful and warm and pleasant. And tomorrow we’re meant to have snow. Never a dull moment.
Margaret developed a game** which involved picking up the effluvia of the American Sweetgum (Liquidambar styraciflua, for those of you playing at home),
bringing them to me,
and smashing them into my face.
[Not Pictured, as I dropped the camera trying to protect my eyes.]
Sometimes in order to make it look more like a game, she stood like she was going to wind up and throw it at me.
She went into her motion.
And then, because she just spent a week with her baseball-mad cousins, and I’m pretty sure there’s something in the water in Port Angeles, finished up in ready position, in case I fired one back at her.
And then occasionally, she just handed them to me nicely, for my collection.****
And sometimes, thinking that they were in fact real gumballs (which she isn’t allowed to eat either), she prepared to stuff it into her mouth.
*Well, the backyard.
**I’m using the word loosely. I think that the Geneva Convention would have something to say about it, but since the days of swaddling, Margaret and I have had a tacit*** agreement that we are not going to mention the Geneva Convention between us.
***Well it would have to be, wouldn’t it?
****I think she thought they were a treat for me. And of course they were.
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