Full-contact Rock Paper Scissors

Zoë and Benjamin were playing outside today (socially distanced, of course) with some neighbour kids (Alexander wasn't because he's still a little feverish; he felt being kept inside was terribly unfair and tried to explain to me that fevers are inside your body and that fevers "don't shed," so he wouldn't get anyone else sick, so I explained back to him that fevers are merely a symptom of a disease and while the symptom may not spread directly, the disease might) when Zoë ran back inside screaming and crying and bleeding everywhere. 

It was a four-bandaid emergency!

"What happened?!" I asked her.

I was very shocked when she replied, "Well, I was playing Rock Paper Scissors..."

"Rock Paper Scissors?!" I exclaimed, taking in all her multiple injuries. 

Was it full-contact Rock Paper Scissors?!

She put both her hands up to reassure me. "No one pushed me," she said. "I just was standing on the grass by the driveway at Zoey's house and I lost my balance and tried to put my foot down but when I did I put it right on the edge of the driveway and then my foot slipped off and I fell down!"

We got her all patched up—two bandaids on her elbow, one on her wrist, and one on her knee—and she felt much better, but I still juts can't stop laughing about how bloody that Rock Paper Scissors battle was! I've never seen anything like it in my life!

"Were you using actual scissors and rocks?" Andrew joked at dinner. 

"Dad!" she said, getting frustrated with our teasings. "I told you! I just fell down!"

Slam-johns

I volunteered to do a writing project this summer while I was between terms and it's been a little...agonizing. I don't think I will ever love the paper (or...even...like...the paper) but I think we've almost pulled it together, so that's something. I really should be working on it now because we have two weeks left to finish it, but I'm going to take a little bit of time to do some writing that's...not that. 

As a treat.

Somehow we ended up with bread and apples coming out our ears. Andrew does all the grocery shopping at our house, which is wonderful, but sometimes he has a lot going on and gets a little distracted and just...buys things. And then he gets home and I'm like, "Dude! We have a case of apples right here! What are we going to do with that case of apples?!"

Like, I know we have a lot of mouths to feed but there's only so many doctors we need to keep away!

Happy birthday to me

My birthday was on Tuesday and it felt like a somewhat important milestone for me because I thought that turning 36 was what would define me as being of "advanced maternal age," but as it turns out, any pregnancy at age 35 or later is considered a "geriatric pregnancy" so apparently I've been plain old this whole time. 

It's kind of strange because I feel no different than I did at 21 when my first OB/GYN called me a "spring chicken." I went from spring chicken to geriatric in 14 short years! Those 14 years flew by.

Rachel, my spring chicken baby, made a birthday cake for me. She carefully researched the most diabetic-friendly cake she could find—a carrot cake (vegetables!) with applesauce (that's healthy, right?) and cream cheese frosting (cheese is protein!). It was a very delicious cake (I had a slice because I technically haven't been diagnosed with gestational diabetes yet, though I'm sure that's coming). 

Tybee Island Lighthouse

Before heading home on Friday morning, we stopped by the Tybee Island lighthouse, one of five lighthouses in Georgia. It has quite a history of being built, being knocked down by a storm, being built back up again, being burned down so the Union couldn't take it, being built back up again, being knocked down by a storm, being...

But it's been standing for a long time now!

At 144 feet, it felt a little short to us compared to the North Carolina lighthouses we visited (Cape Hatteras is 210 feet tall, for example), but I guess it's not really that short because there are many, many lighthouses shorter than it. 

We didn't pay to go inside (the line was long, the price was pricey) but we did take a few quick pictures!

Hilton Head, SC

Usually we make a goal to do a certain number of home-state and out-of-state adventures as a family. We quickly abandoned those goals the first quarter of 2020 and...didn't really set any for 2021. So we decided that while we were on this vacation, hitting multiple of home-state adventures (Ocmulgee, Tybee South, downtown Savannah, Tybee North, UGA aquarium, etc.) we may as well hit an out-of-state adventure, too! After all, we were so close to South Carolina!

Georgia's coastline is only  about 100 miles, which sounds small (considering Alaska has about 6640 miles of coastline, North Carolina has about 300), but it's also the 16th longest coastline of any given state and states that I automatically consider "coastal states," like Rhode Island and Delaware, technically have less coastline (at 40 and 28 miles, respectively), though I suppose they have more coastline when you consider their overall size. I had honestly never considered Georgia a coastal state before moving here; I still have trouble considering Alabama a coastal state, but my mom's cousin in Alabama has been posting a ton of articles about Alabama's coastline lately so I guess they are (and looking at a map, this is true—they have about 50 miles of coastline). But when I'm thinking of coastal states I'm never like, "Oh, Alabama. Best beaches!" Nope. Alabama doesn't even cross my mind.

The west coast is easy. California, Oregon, Washington, British Columbia, Alaska. There are no states sticking a sneaky finger into the coastline pie like there are in the east. I'm looking at you, Alabama. And New Hampshire, with your 13 miles. What even is that? Anyway...

To get to South Carolina, all we had to do was cross this bridge over the Savannah River (you might recognize it from our river walk downtown):

UGA aquarium/Skidaway Island

Despite feeling sunburnt and beat-up from our long beach excursion on Wednesday, everyone still wanted to go to the beach on Thursday. I thought it best that we take a little bit of a break from the sea and sun (and avoid being at the beach during the hottest part of the day), so we spent the morning at the UGA aquarium. 

Historic Downtown Savannah

We only "ate out" twice the entire time we were gone (it's amazing how many times you can fill tummies with PB&J, honestly (or dishonestly sometimes, too...because we forgot to buy jam and only realized it when we were getting ready to head to the beach on Tuesday morning so we sent Zoë and Miriam back down to the breakfast bar to grab a few little tubs of jam...which...I mean...we bought a little jar of jam for Thursday...). Wednesday evening was one of those two times because there was a Cook Out right across the street from our hotel!

We like Cook Out, but there isn't really one close to our house. 

Anyway, this Cook Out meal was a little disappointing because (a) their milkshake machine was broken, which meant no milkshakes (I'm trying to be a good pregnant lady and not eat a lot of sweets because I just know I'm going to be diagnosed with gestational diabetes any day now so this was probably good for me, but was disappointing for everyone else) and (b) they forgot to put any sauce in our order and Andrew forgot to ask. So we just ate...plain hush puppies and plain chicken strips. 

"We will find dessert!" Andrew promised the kids.

There's this famous ice cream place in historic downtown Savannah called Leopold's. Andrew decided we'd go there. Why not?

So we drove downtown, parked, and started walking toward Broughton Street. 

Tybee Island, GA

We spent all day Wednesday at North Beach on Tybee Island. It was a lot less windy than it had been on Tuesday evening (which we spent at a more southerly beach on Tybee) and we heard on the news over breakfast that it was because of the big storm that rolled in that evening. I was glad the wind really was atrocious on Tuesday because...it had been a while since we'd made it to the beach...and I couldn't remember if it was always that miserable and I had just been remembering things wrong or what. The sand was stinging our legs as it hit and it was really quite uncomfortable. 

But on Wednesday all we had was a lovely sea breeze and the day was perfectly beautiful.

I took a million pictures because (a) we haven't been to the beach in forever and (b) I'm a lot less adventurous when I go to the beach pregnant than when I go to the beach when I'm not so while everyone else was enjoying boogie boarding out in the waves I took a gentler approach...

Ocmulgee Mounds National Historic Park

As I mentioned, we stopped by the Ocmulgee Mounds National Historic Park on our way to the beach. We visited the Etowah mounds in October 2019 (and that very well may have been the very last "adventure" we took before the whole COVID thing happened), so we were a little more prepared for what we'd see this time around. This particular site features an earth floor dating to 1015 AD (the lodge built over it is a reconstruction, but it was fun to go inside and look at the floor (admittedly, that's still rather recent history (I've seen mosaics older than this floor, for example), but it's still pretty cool and...among the oldest we've got)). 

Here's Benjamin at the entrance to the lodge, anxiously waiting to go inside (he's usually at the front of our group, no matter where we're going):

Hello, old friend!

Our first stop of the day was actually at the Ocmulgee Mounds National Park, which I will write more about later, I'm sure. For now I will say that they were...hot...and interesting...and hot...and Benjamin's life was made when he got to ask a park ranger how they got their job...and we were all really hot.

I suppose we shouldn't really complain because Salt Lake City hit a record-breaking 106°F today! We were only in the 90s (with something like 97% humidity). So it was hot for us...but not as hot as some places.

What the kids really wanted to do was get to the beach already (but we had to stop for a lunch break somewhere so a picnic at Ocmulgee Mounds it was (safer than attempting a restaurant; not that many dining rooms are open yet)). The whole time we were there the little kids were trying to see the ocean from the tops of the mounds or asking if we were "there" yet, which we weren't, but after a short 2.5 hour drive we finally made it to our "beach hotel."

Alexander seems to be purposely throwing in as many /s/, /sh/, /j/, and /ch/ sounds as he can now that he can actually say those sounds. So our hotel isn't just a hotel. It's a "beach hotel." He's not even disappointed that we're thirty minutes away from the beach. He's just so excited to be here. 

He also carefully pointed out each and every "gas station" along the way. Once we passed one and he said, "There's another gas 'tation..." and when he realized he forgot the initial /s/ in 'station,' he just...stuck it on the end. So he ended up sayin, "There's another gas tay-shun...ssss!" He's getting lots of good practice in and we still find it so ridiculously cute whenever he says anything with any of his new sounds.

Anyway, after checking into our "beach hotel" (half an hour away from the beach), we headed to the beach to play until the sun set (completely neglecting to have any dinner). As we were walking across the boardwalk to get to the beach, Alexander saw the ocean and exclaimed, "That's a big river!"

He was very impressed by the ocean (and practiced saying that word a billion times while he was building sand castles).

Here he is being very impressed:

A frolic of fireflies

If my children ever question whether I ever loved them, please remind them that in the summer I routinely let them stay up past their bedtime so I can take them on "firefly walks" in 95% humidity.

It was absolutely sweltering this evening, but after our walk they insisted on staying outside to catch lightning bugs. I didn't take any pictures, so enjoy these pictures from June 8. I think we easily caught twice as many—even three times as many—fireflies as we caught that particular day because the firefly population seems to have exploded since then. The kids were catching fireflies left and right, coming up to me and saying, "Okay—I've got three!" Even Alexander caught several (and he's...not very good...at catching fireflies (though I really think it has more to do with his height than his skill; they so quickly fly out of his reach)). 

Benjamin did not wear his flannel onesie this evening (he would have melted), but he was wearing it on June 8:

ICB

To celebrate finishing our first week of school, the kids decided we should have a movie night, complete with pizza delivery. So because we're big spenders, we ordered from Little Caesars. We got a cheese pizza, of course, and pepperoni (standard stuff over here), as well as Italian cheese bread (often known as ICB). 

Now, Andrew's family has a long-standing joke about ICB because whenever they would order Little Caesars and Karen/Grandma would go to pick up the order, there would be a slice of ICB missing from the box. She would always act surprised and say something like, "What?! There's a piece of cheese bread missing!" and then she'd follow up by lightheartedly blaming it on the workers, always munching on her pizza order, they were!

Of course, we all knew that she had helped herself to a piece of ICB on the way home, but it always gave everyone a good laugh. The tradition has continued and often when Andrew picks up Little Caesars he'll come home and "discover" that a pice of ICB is missing.

But today we got it delivered (we were "boxed in" at our house due to some tree removal equipment parked in front of our driveway) and our delivery person simply pulled up, retrieved the pizza from their trunk, handed it to us, and left. We gathered for dinner, said a quick meal prayer, and then started opening boxes. 

We were very surprised when we opened the ICB box to find...this:

"Huh...there seems to be a piece of cheese bread missing..." I giggled.

School's IN for summer!

Due to circumstances currently beyond our control, in addition to circumstances we wanted to get control of, we had our first day of school on Monday. 

For one thing, we'll be having a baby sometime in November or December (but most likely November (unless I'm jinxing myself because I've never made it to my due date before; but I'll likely be diagnosed with gestational diabetes and then they won't let me go to my due date, anyway, so...it'll most likely be November)) and I imagine we'll want to take some time off then. Probably more than we would, otherwise, at any rate. Especially because I'll be going to school full time, myself. 

For another thing, the kids haven't been giving me a moment of peace! There's always a constant stream of them wanting this or that: Play with me. Get me a snack. Read me this book. Look at what I made....

No amount of interacting with them seemed to stem the flow. They just always wanted something. 

And while we're not poor, we certainly aren't rich enough to, like, send our kids off to camp for a month (besides which I'd miss them too much; plus there's still a pandemic on (contrary to popular belief)). So they're just home...all the time...and I'm the only one to field their requests and complains and whatever (because somehow the kids all respect Andrew's designated work space and time) and it's been exhausting.

I was thinking about it and I thought, "You know, doing our lessons takes about the same amount of energy from me as fielding their all-day requests. Sure, I spend a few good hours with them—reading and instructing and discussing and playing—but then, once we're finished...they're sick of me. They want to go off and do their own thing, play their own games. And that gives me a few hours to do what I want (and/or need) to do without interruption every five minutes!"

So that's my secondary (somewhat sneaky) reason for starting school so early. But also, it's another pandemic summer and there's little to do with all our unvaccinated little ones and I'm preparing for a maternity leave of sorts (how a stay-at-home, homeschooling mom actually prepares for maternity leave...I don't know...but I imagine it has to look something like front-loading school days).

Anyway, we started school on Monday. And things have been going fairly well. We're reading Apple: Skin to the Core by Eric Gansworth, which I initially thought was a little...dense...when it arrived (not dense as in 'stupid,' but dense as in...robust...heavy...more cerebral than the kids could manage), even though the recommended grades is 7–12 (which, I realize is more directed at Rachel and Miriam than the younger three, but I figure the younger three can sit through it since I do story time with them at various other times of the day). Anyway, yes, I realize it's recommended for middle school on up. But even then the book just seemed denser when I flipped through it. But it's been a joy to read so far. Even Benjamin likes it. 

It's made up of poems and short essays and things like that, so we can pause to talk about things quite easily, which has been great.

Anyway, it's been a wonderful read so far. We're also deep into our math books, with Benjamin learning about angles, and Zoë learning about equations, and the older girls in their algebra and geometry textbooks. Here are the little ones working on their math for the day:

A "brush" with regional variation

I've lived in the United States for several years now—nearly 20!—and my language has adapted accordingly. Now when I go back to my small town I can hear an accent that I couldn't hear before, that I didn't realize I had. So I know that I've been...gulp...Americanized. But I also know that I don't quite sound American because there are some Canadianisms that I've clung to (or that have clung to me). 

I feel comfortable, for example, calling markers 'markers' (even though I grew up calling them 'felts' or 'felt-tipped pens' or 'felt-tipped markers'), but I just can't say (or even spell) 'coloured pencils' without cringing (because I have to stick that /u/ in there, which, yes...is an active choice I made years ago). 

They are 'pencil crayons,' and always will be.

I am not even sure if that's one that I'm clinging to purposely or if it's just so ingrained in my mind that I the new word hasn't been able to unroot it. 

Another word Americans find strange, which I know I've kept, is 'housecoat.' It's not a word that's used often enough that I've replaced it in my lexicon. If I go to Amazon.com and look up 'housecoat,' I will only see American-style 'housecoats,' which...is not necessarily what I mean when I say 'housecoat.' Because what I mean, according to Americans, is 'robe.'

On the Canadian website, I immediately see what I'm thinking about when I say 'housecoat':

A cockroach story

It's getting to be summer (even though we're starting school back up tomorrow (sorry, children, but we've got to get a jump on things now so we can take some time off in, say, late November, early December)) so in addition to fireflies, we've got 95% humidity (our walk this evening was so muggy), near-daily thunder storms, and all sorts of creepy crawlies—cicadas (though we didn't get hit by Brood X), snakes, mosquitoes, cockroaches...

Cockroaches are one of my least favourite things about having to get up in the middle of the night to...use the facilities. Stepping on one in my bare feet is kind of my worst nightmare. Although...not really... I've been having such horrendous dreams lately, dreams that would make stepping on a cockroach feel rather tame. Still, I imagine stepping on a cockroach would be at least mildly unpleasant. 

Benjamin stepped on one in the music room last year. It was...mildly unpleasant. 

Anyway, I don't really want to step on a cockroach, but when you're making your way though the house, in the dark, in your bare feet...it's always a possibility. 

(Don't suggest wearing slippers because I also have this mild fear of putting on shoes and finding bugs (or whatever) inside, so I have to check before I put them on, because could you imagine putting your foot into your slipper in the middle of the night only to find that there's a cockroach inside?!)

Keep in mind that these cockroaches don't live inside. They simply...get...inside. 

Just this evening a cockroach flew into the house when Andrew opened the garage door. 

They just...find their way. Like lizards. And things.

Benjamin's Birthday Balloons

We made birthday balloons for Benjamin during FHE last week.

Alexander wrote on his balloons with his formal binomial code language and then read his balloons very seriously to everyone (while I took dictation). He made a bunch of them. The first one says, "I hope you stay well and I hope you stay happy." Another one says, "Happy birthday! I love you and we can give you some presents." The last balloon he translated for us said, "I hope you have a good day. I love you, and Ben—I love you and hope somehow this can be on the tree." He declined to give a translation of his fourth balloon.

Zoë's balloons were heavy on doodles (they were absolutely plastered with hearts) and light on text. She said, "I love you Ben, Oh, and happy birthday!" and "I love you because you play chess with me," and "Happy Birthday!"

Between Zoë and Alexander there weren't many balloons left for the rest of us.

Andrew's balloons said, "You are great at forgiving others and always being flexible and happy!
 and, "Ben! You are a super fun dude!"

Rachel said, "You are smart, funny, energetic, ambitious, brave, and curious. I love how much you love to read and ride your bike and you're so good at everything you try. I can't believe you're nine already! (Seriously, it's really weird. I remember when you were born and now you're almost a decade old? Like, what?)"

She also wrote him an acrostic poem:

Brave

Exuberant

Nice

Jubilant

Active

Minecraft-obsessed

Incredible

NINE

Miriam only managed to snag one balloon and chose to write another acrostic about Benjamin:

Bouncy

Energetic

Nice

Jovial

Awesome

Minecrafter

Ingenious

Nature-y

I also only got a single balloon, but I filled it up with things (so it's like I wrote on several balloons): "Benjamin, I admire your persistence and dedication in learning. Sometimes it takes you longer to learn things, but you keep a good attitude and keep trying until you succeed. It was fun to watch you learn how to ride a bike this year. You started out slow and now you're a pro.

"You can be a silly kid sometimes but also know how (and when) to be responsible and mature, which is pretty cool!

"It's been a privilege to watch you grow, learn, and develop your talents. You're turning into a fine young man and I look forward to watching you continue to learn and grow. 

"You're a wonderful brother, son, and friend. I love you!"

He sure is a good kid!

Fireflies!

Yesterday was a pretty great day because in addition to it being Benjamin's birthday, I also got cleared from jury duty, and we got to take our very first firefly walk of the season! I think the kids caught more than a dozen before we headed inside (they're still fairly sparse, but I'm sure there will be more soon).

Here's Benjamin showing off the firefly jar (from yesterday; they were out there again this evening):

Benjamin is 9!

Rachel spent some time cleaning up her room and "putting away her childish things," which is part of growing up, I guess, but it feels wild that Rachel's doing it. She passed almost her entire wardrobe down to Miriam...but in her defense, we haven't taken her clothes shopping in ages and she's grown a lot the last couple of years (so guess what she'll be getting for her birthday). And she gave her watch to Benjamin—the watch that she begged us for on her ninth birthday (but later discovered she's not a "watch person," which I totally get because...same).

She gave it to him on Tuesday and I pointed out that she should have reserved it to give to him on his birthday because that boy was over the moon about getting her old watch. But he was happy to count it as an early gift. "Besides," he pointed out, "You're really giving me two gifts: a watch and a cake!"

And that's true because she did make his cake. 

But back to the watch. Man, alive! This kid!

He spent the entire day Tuesday giving us updates on the time. I was working with him in the kitchen one morning and he was telling me the time every minute! I finally had to ask him to not tell me the time anymore. Like, I was going to try to just be patient through this stage of fascination but soon it became clear that I would either have to say something to try to get him to change his behaviour or I would absolutely snap at him. Better to speak up early, right? 

So he did his best to not tell us the time every single minute but he continued to tell us the time frequently (and often in atypical ways, like: "It's 21 minutes to 6."

At the dinner table he noted the time anyone did anything remotely noteworthy. 

"That prayer was 34 seconds long."

"Alexander tooted at 5:47."

"I just knew Miriam was going to choke on her water at 5:52."

Eventually he finished his dinner and Andrew sent him upstairs to do something and we all breathed a sigh of relief because that meant he wasn't telling us the time anymore. And then he made a whole-house announcement (thanks, Alexa) telling us the time and we all burst out laughing.

Freeman's Mill Park

We all got out of the house for a little adventure this afternoon. It was like pulling teeth, but we did it! I wanted to do it yesterday but Andrew had put off a project with a deadline of May 31 (which he didn't realize was Memorial Day), and then Rachel had to work this morning and when she came home she immediately started baking Benjamin's birthday cake (which I appreciate) so we had to let her finish that (even though it put us a couple of hours "behind schedule," so to speak (we keep a rather flimsy schedule around here)).

Andrew suggested we could go another day, but I knew Wednesday wouldn't work since that's our busiest weekday, and I honestly don't know whether or not I'll have free time any given day this week (because I'm on call all week). But I did know that I didn't have jury duty today, and that's something, so we headed out. 

I had seen a few friends post about Freeman's Mill Park and wanted to check it out for ourselves as a little local adventure (we honestly haven't gone on an adventure in ages). The park is about a half hour away from our house (longer with traffic, of course), and was surprisingly empty (given how crowded the parks closer to our house typically are). 

We had fun mis-reading signs along the way. Rachel saw this sign that said, "Well water is used for irrigation" but she read it as, "Well, water is used for irrigation," and it was hilarious (because we find things like that hilarious).

On Call

Sometimes I wonder if we accidentally moved to a place where things are simply bureaucratically more...difficult.

For example, I've been summoned for jury duty before, when we lived in Durham, but I was given a specific date and that one single date was my only potential day for jury duty (unless the trial went longer than expected). From Durham county's website we learn:

"Jury service in Durham County operates on the one-day / one-trial system. A new group of jurors are summoned each day of the week and, if selected to serve on a jury, a juror will serve for that day or for the length of a trial. However, if a person is not selected for a trial, their jury service will be complete after that one day. If selected to serve on a trial that is completed before the end of the day, those jurors will return to the jury assembly area and may then be selected for service on another case. If not selected again, those jurors will be allowed to go home at the end of the day, having completed their jury service. Jurors selected for a trial that takes several days will need to be present each day during the trial.

The average length of service on a trial is two days."

When I called to see if I needed to check in, I was told my services weren't needed. So then I was finished.

Want to know how it works in Gwinnett county?

For starters, their website is...a mess...so you won't necessarily find this information on it. But basically, I'm on call for jury duty for the entire week. I have to check in every evening after 7:00 PM to see if I'll be needed the next day. For an entire week. 

Now, I understand that jury duty is important and good. But an entire week!?

Name Generator

My favourite baby naming website (nymbler) is now defunct. You used to be able to insert your inspiration names and check off al sorts of parameters and it would generate ideas for you that you could like to save in a list and then generate more...and...I wouldn't say that we necessarily found every name that way but it's definitely something I played around with when we were in the process of naming our other kids. It's a terrible platform now. 

I've seen a few places recommending Name Berry's Name Generator, so I'll have to check that out (but I doubt it will be the same as nymbler was). 

The good news is we have plenty of helpers to come up with good names. 

Zoë recently handed me this list of suggestions:

In which Alexander speaks

Alexander has had a major breakthrough in his speech! 

He started using /s/ spontaneously and organically on Sunday, which was a rather amazing thing! We've been practicing saying /s/ for quite some time now but he's never used it, on his own, in context before. And then on Sunday he was just...throwing /s/ in all over the place. And not just /s/, either. He was also using /ch/ and /j/ and all sorts of sounds that he's simply elided before (or substituted with another sound (usually /b/ or /v/).

I woke up from my nap (*yawn*) and Andrew said, "Watch this! Alexander—tell Mom what you were playing downstairs!"

Alexander mumbled something. 

"Say it again," I urged him. "What were you playing downstairs?"

"Dollhouse," he said...with the /s/ (though apparently he wasn't feeling like giving me a full-sentence answer, which is odd because he's a talkative kid).

"You were playing with the dollhouse?"

Later in the afternoon I was playing LEGO with him and he was talking up a storm, throwing in his /s/ sounds all over. 

"Don't do it like that. Do it like this!" he'd tell me. 

And I'd swoon a little because...this!

"I'm going to build the tower. You build a fence!" he'd say.

And I'd feel all giddy because...fence!

A walk in the park

I took all the kids (save Rachel) to the park today and the kids noticed that the bramble berries are starting to ripen. I...don't know what sort of berries they are...precisely...though I think they're more like blackberries than raspberries (because they don't leave behind the inside part when we pick them). In fact, I think they're probably dewberries (which are just...wild blackberries).