It is the season

I was cleaning my teeth this morning when Wren walked up to me with something squished between his fingers.

"NUK" he said.

I looked, it was a dead fly.

While I washed his hands he complained because he couldn't hold his Duplo dragon at the same time as being dangled over the basin. After he was done he clung to my legs because he was worried that the floor might be wet and he has fallen over enough times to learn caution.

When I was ready we headed off for our weekly shopping trip at Trader Joes. Wren likes Trader Joe's. He enjoys the snack hut where we eat samples, no matter how bizarre or enticing. Today was sliced hot dog. "Hot Hot" warned Wren as I poured coffee into an egg cup sized cup. I had to return a few times

Along the way, we passed by the hulks of BBQs set out on the sidewalk for adoption. Some looked quite enticing if you have a yen for propane while others are frightening dark maws which need commercial disinfection before I would offer them a hot dog.






This is the season for the dumping and replacement of BBQs. Tomorrow is Memorial Day - a traditional day for the Brats on the BBQ along with a keg and some rose if you're posh. Wren is too small for me to feel comfortable with a tub of fire on the back patio so we are not tempted by the offerings.

Its also the first whole week of sunshine and snails and slugs eating everything green shooting while the perennials grown inches overnight.

Wren is napping so I shall finish unpacking our groceries and plan the next batch of bread.