A swing in the park for the first time ever! I actually think Milo had more fun pushing her than Naomi had riding, as chewing her fists seems more absorbing than the motion of the swing.

I’m not sure how much of Milo’s grime is soot, and how much is chocolate. Joshua in the background is showing off the blackened sole of his shoe, compliments of the Sign of the Bellbird hut’s windy open hearth. We had given our friends Graham and Teena some tips on tramping meals, but their first attempt was (reputedly) a repulsive mix of curry and smoked fish, given thumbs down all around. I don’t know, it doesn’t sound so bad to me….but we thought we’d meet up and cook a meal together in the Port Hills to give them a positive experience. Or perhaps to discover that Americans have an uncultured palate? In the end they liked the meal, even the brownie with (unfortunately) a slightly charred bottom.

Fwip-fwap! What little boy (or grown man for that matter) wouldn’t enjoy fencing with grasses. Our admonishments of “just down at their feet, Milo!” went totally unheeded, but at least the weapons were soft.

“Wow, what do you think that is, Milo?” “A Poop!” He knew exactly. The Buskers festival was in Christchurch last weekend, and one of the features was a wild and wacky petting zoo (like something from Dr. Seuss), including this big pile of “Poo” that wandered aimlessly around. Milo poked at it gingerly, then got on all fours to see what was beneath it. “It has wheels!” he declared, triumphantly. Yes Mr. Analytical, it does.

Roar, aren’t cookies exciting! I remember the pleasures of cut-out cookies with Mom when we were little, including the incredibly addicting raw sugar cookie dough. Milo’s birthday is next week so we made cookies to share with the kids at Playcenter. Naomi, as usual, just enjoyed watching the chaos.