Nora came to Stanford with me today and we visited the Arizona Cactus Garden. Nora wishes me to convey how happy the cactus garden was. :) Although, even the cactuses are suffering in this nasty drought we’ve been having.
Colin accompanied me to the laundromat and, rather than wait inside listening to horrible top 40 music, we decided to go explore a nearby tiny park. It’s honestly not much of a park, but Colin makes his own fun. He climbed the picnic bench several times, declared himself ruler of all he surveyed from atop a tree stump (I surmise), and tremendously enjoyed yelling, “train! train! Thomas?? bye bye, Thomas!” at each train that rolled by in the hour we were there.
Although he has no piggy bank and almost none of his pants have pockets, Colin owns two bicycle-like devices: a tricycle and a balance bike. He’s crazy excited about both of these, but will need his legs to get about 1.5 cm longer and quite a lot stronger before he’s able to use either of them. That being said, it was extremely tempting when he fell in love with this little red number at Talbot’s bikes the other day. He kept yelling, “Colin do! Colin do!” and “bike ride! bike ride!” and sometimes “NO!!!!!!!!! bike ride!!! *real actual tears* BIKE RIDE! DADDY, PLEASE!!! COLIN DO!!!! NO!!!!!!! *become floppy human noodle as gesture of civil disobedience* *real sobs*” when I finally lifted him off the bike and carried him away to the book section to find his sister.
Today Nora and I biked just over 10 miles from our home in San Mateo to the Bay Trail south to just the other side of the San Mateo-Hayward Bridge and back home. The high point was the joy Nora felt on her longest ever bike ride and her first serious ride since we fixed her gears and brakes up so she can actually, you know, use them. The low point was definitely when we showed up at our usual post-ride donut shop to find that the woman in front of us was buying all of the everything the store had. No kidding. She bought every donut, cookie, eclair, you name it. It was, as Jen put it with characteristic sangfroid, tragedy.
No, that’s not a brontosaurus. What do you think this is, 1903?
It wasn’t so long ago that Nora was riding the baby swings herself. Now, though, she’s the one doing the pushing.
I left my iPad unattended and Colin shot the following in-depth interview with himself.