I saw baby swans swimming beside thier parents this morning on my 5:40 walk with Andrea through Town Brook. There were also baby geese further up the stream, but not close enough to watch. It reminded me of one of my two favorite lines from Charlotte's Web: "Springtime on the farm is a wonderful thing." My other favorite line is the last line: "It's not often that someone comes along who is a good friend AND a good writer. Charlotte was both." Do you suppose Patrick might let me have that put on my tombstone? It would be rather amusing to watch from the Other Side as people look my tombstone and wonder, "Who the hell's Charlotte??"
At the bottom of Town Brook, on the other side of the road, three men emerged very unexpectedly right in front of us from the reeds carrying what I immediately thought were muskets. Turns out, they were fishing poles. Just goes to show what a lifetime with a Civil War reenactor will turn you into.
Amelia has a playdate with her second-best friend afterschool today, so I'll take Abby to visit the swan babies. And I heard on the radio that a baby lamb was born at the petting zoo at the prison farm, so we might head there as well.
Hm. Muskets and prison. And I thought this would turn out to be a wholesome post about baby animals in springtime.
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