Mondays after work Milo and I have a standing play-date with Canadian friends Jen and her son Tristan. Last week we met at Hagley park to crunch the fall leaves that are thick under the big deciduous trees in the arboretum. On the way back we walked through the NZ garden, and I don’t know what this plant is dwarfing the boys, but it sure is impressive!
For some reason, Milo and Tristan can’t seem to keep their hands off each other. Milo will randomly (and silently) run up, bear hug and tackle Tristan. Tristan then responds with a predictable (and must be highly pleasing) high pitched “No Milo!” and the Moms break it up. Then Milo might run past Tristan, who sticks out a hand, swiping Milo. Milo will retaliate with a shove, eliciting another “No Milo” and shove in return. And on and on it goes. I wonder what would happen if the Moms didn’t interfere. I imagine there would be some tears, some bruises, and eventually a pecking order would develop that needed few challenges to maintain. Amazingly, they both still like each other. Here each boy has a niche in this giant “gum tree,” a species of Eucalyptus, far enough away from each other to avoid the inevitable squabbles.
This past weekend we got together with Tristan’s parents for a walk at a park, starting with an adventure playground. The flying fox was a hit!
A door in the woods. There’s no fence it passes through, just a lintel and a door, red on one side and bright purple on the other. It’s actually really interesting to watch our group pass this part of the trail. We hiked with two extra kids, ages 8 and 6, and all the kids (including Milo and Tristan) instinctively passed through the door, closing it behind them. The adults walked around. Something about the vivid colors and absurdity of a door to nowhere appealed to the kids’ imagination, but as adults I guess our minds are elsewhere. Shame.
The dads passed through the door on request, to pose for a picture. Milo’s out cold.