Farmer Joe
"Get off my land! You're treading on my parsnips!"
Caption titling prize to Dave of Mad-and-Dave.
Arlo loves to garden. He follows me or his father around and insists on holding the hose while we water. He has his own little rake and trowel, and the moment you start diggind a hole he positions himself right in the middle of it. Rides in the wheelbarrow are a highlight, too.
Arlo has been learning so many new things lately that I have been pondering the wonderment of watching his development. Late last night, kept awake by the sweet sounds of two koalas procreating high in the trees of the block next door, I considered the idea of fate/destiny/random sheer dumb luck. If the timing had been a mere nanosecond different, had it been a different ovum or sperm, what baby would we have had? If we'd had a baby next year instead of last, would we have a girl? A redhead? An overdue delivery?Would we have even had a baby in the end, having had time to reconsider?
I have to say, I am delighted with our little parsnip, just as I would have been with a zucchini or a bunch of spinach (but maybe not a pea).
