If it decided to snow again that would be a very cruel twist. The trails and roads are dry and clear, the skies blue, the days around 50, and the only snow remaining stubbornly hides under shadows in the woods.
Henry happily bumped along in his bike trailer over the weekend, loving every minute of it. Last summer I used to turn my head back every few minutes to check on him, whereas now I listen to the play by play of our ride to know he's doing fine.
"Tanker! Mail truck! Muddy puddles! Satellite dish!"
He thinks riding in the trailer is the cat's pajamas and is now actively asking for his own bike. Mission accomplished. We're currently leaning toward a push bike over a pedal bike, but still need to stew on it for a bit.
The warm weather means the sandbox is open. I don't know the details of the work order, but from what I've observed on the job site, the focus is in loading up the dump truck with sand via the excavator over and over again. It just never gets old. As the underwriter of the job, I only ask that we try to hit the sandbox on scheduled bath days.
Moments after putting on his new fire truck jammies, Henry decided for the first time to fix the light switch in the kitchen. Like a bullet out of a gun he could not be stopped, and we happily sat back and enjoyed the show.