This working farm is part of the Three Rivers Park District - a slew of parks and trails over on our side of the suburbs.
There wasn't much going on at the farm yesterday - well nothing really. But we still got in a nice walk. We made it all the way down to the canoe landing. It was just the two of us, nice and quiet, and we kept hearing what sounded like loud thumps or thunder. I'm guessing it was the lake ice, expanding and contracting. Maybe we could say the lake had hiccups.
By the time Peter turns 18, I'll probably be able to compile a thick photo book of him peeing in the great outdoors...and neighborhood parks...and my backyard (the rule is not in the front).
Pete's fondest memory of the day? Guts. Birds guts from something the farm cat had recently killed.
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