It Takes a Village -- A Viking Village

You know that my back yard is undergoing a transformation. New garden beds, chicken prison, etc. Eventually there will be a play area, a lawn, and more plants. For now, though, there's just lots and lots of unallocated dirt areas. A neighbor said, "It looks like you're having. . . pipes put in your yard?" We had to say, no, it's just the kids digging.

Here's the man behind the plan.
It's Dana, father of a fellow homeschooled child and wonderful garden planner. If I have a beef to pick, it's just that Dana leaves wonderful, exciting, interesting things around.

Another neighbor came to the door yesterday. Things 2 & 3 escorted him to the porch, and waited excitedly to hear him. He sort of hemmed and hawwed, so I sent them off to play.

"Um," he said, "Um, it would probably be fine under adult supervision, but -- "

"What were they doing?" I tried to look as though I might be surprised by anything he said, but really, what I was thinking was more along the lines of "What now?"

"Um. They were throwing pitchforks."

I didn't ask if they were throwing them at each other. Anything becomes a javelin to them, and I didn't think they were feeling especially homicidal toward each other. All I could say was, "Thank you for telling me. No, it's not okay under any circumstances. I'll put the pitchforks away."

Maybe I should have said something about him needing to keep his eyes open in the future because I never knew what they would get into their pointy little heads to do. But I didn't want to scare him.

I'm afraid enough already.