Wednesday, August 29, 2012


We don’t do enough hiking, if you ask me. I love to hike. Bub hates it. (Oh, wait. We don’t use the word “hate” in our house because it means that you wish that thing would die and never come back. So, Bub hates it….) I have big plans for taking the boys out every weekend for a hike, but let’s be honest – that garden isn’t going to weed itself, Bub’s not going to can the stuff that I must have in the pantry, I do need a little bit of sitting-on-my-ass time, and sometimes it’s really hot!

Those things and the rattlesnakes. This has been very dry – we’re in the middle of a pretty big drought – and the rattlers are coming closer and closer to homes. This means that they are surely on the trails. A little boy in Grantsville was recently bitten in the field next to his house, IN TOWN. So, yeah. I’m pretty wary.

Anywaaaaay, once in a while I get off of my duff, and we go for a hike. With two five-year olds, this is equivalent to about a mile – two maximum – but it’s still fun. As long as I live, I don’t think that I will ever understand what draws kids to dirt. Well, some kids. I didn’t do that (to my knowledge). Playing with dirt and sand is just tedious especially when they don’t actually play with it. Just picking it up and letting it go through the hands? Over and over? I’ve never understood it. I probably never will. Nevertheless, it’s a big component of our “hikes” as is throwing rocks. Now, that one, I can almost grasp. At least that makes noise.

Whatever. As long as they are happy.

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