Even though we’d been outside all day, every day we hadn’t been doing much running around. Matthew needs to run around. A lot. As a result, he had the worst case of hyperactive Tasmanian Devil psychosis we’d seen in a long time. It was time for a strenuous hike.
We hiked the Palisades, since the trailhead was practically just outside our door. It’s a steep hike to the top of a sheer cliff that overlooks Fairlee, and the neighboring town of Orford, NH.
The view from the top is amazing. The problem is that you have to walk perilously close to the edge of a real, honest-to-God cliff; the kind that Wil-E Coyote was always falling off while holding a little sign saying "help" .
The hike did the job of pooping out the kids without sending mom or dad to the emergency room.
Later in the day, we went fishing again, and Matthew caught his first Bass EVER.
My lousy fishing luck continued.
That night as I was closing the door to the garage something flew past my head in the dark with a soft whoosh. Owl? Bat? Unquiet Spirit?
I’m thinking owl.
I found a copy of Eric Idle’s book "Greedy Bastard Diary", and read a few chapters. It was a good read, but afterwards I found myself singing "The Philospher’s Song" out loud. I had to do a lot of self censoring –
"And Rene Decartes Was a drunken HMMMMM
I drink therefore I am."
"Socrates himself was permanently HMMMMM"
If you’re a Monty Python fan that will make sense. If not – go back and look at the pictures from the hike one more time.