Last night we were at a neighborhood bar-b-que and the children were running around enjoying being outdoors without adult intervention. As we were watching the joy of these children, maybe even wishing we could join in, a woman pointed and said, “Look at those boys. They’re are throwing dirt in the air. Why do boys
The other day my cat was stuck in a tree. He had no idea how to get out. How does that happen? He didn’t get to play in trees when he was a kitten. We lived in coyote country. Not just a few howls at night, I mean where coyotes wandered through the property during
“Will you PUULLEEZZE go outside and play?” Words I remember from my childhood. Not because I was sitting in front of a video device too long, but because I was probably playing and running throughout the house. Yes, and those words were sometimes said when it was raining. Nowadays times to play are scheduled. Oh,
Three-year-old Rosie brought a handful of rocks from the driveway in the house. She carefully placed these ordinary pieces of gravel on the bookshelf. This was the beginning of her rock collection. At three years old, there was little pattern or reason to her collection or how she displayed it. She just started collecting rocks.