I think I’ve mentioned before that in Toronto, only 3% of school age girls (as in K through 12) are getting enough physical activity, which is defined as an hour of activity per day. As such, I go to great effort to ensure that Nefarious gets that, and now that school is out we have been spending as much time as possible at the park. After all, I can read at the park just as easily as I can do it here, and the fresh air is good for me. I suspect that even if I am not sure that I’m up to it, I am better off resting in the shade in fresh air than trying to sleep in a sweltering studio. So there has been lots of playground, even more hiking through the many forest trails, and now that the pool is open, at least an hour a day of swimming.
Let me start with some public art we found. I don’t know if it had anything to do with the hippies having a vegan picnic nearby, but these two guerrilla “installations” were behind a sign reading, if I remember correctly, “Stop and Smell the Fungi”.
Also on that particular walk, and for the second time in as many days after not having seen one at High Park ever, we found a snake sunning itself on the path. The first one escaped us in the tall grass, but this one was in the forest and did not have as quick access to cover and we managed to catch him. Nefarious was a little nervous about getting bitten but held him and got to feel his frightened muscular twirling and constricting. Of course released a few moments later none the worse for wear.
Nefarious is always catching animals at the park. Caterpillars are a particular favorite and she always begs to take them home, a request that has so far been denied. I may have mentioned this previously, but I did however recently let her take home a frog for the night. She made a nice little home for him to stay in and caught bugs for him to eat and left him water and treats. When we released him the next day he was not entirely eager to wander off! Domesticated in a night. The power of strawberries maybe.
Then of course there are also the classics like tree climbing.
Unfortunately, and as amusing as it may or may not be, I have to be vigilant when taking photos. It’s been made far worse by going to water skiing camp for the past four weekends (which sounds like it was a ton of fun) and listening to all the older kids swearing and so on, but she sure does like rude gestures. Of course, it’s worse when she’s behind the shutter of her own camera, which I was mortified to discover is filled with a great many surreptitiously taken pictures of my butt-crack, explaining the giggling that I often hear from behind me when I bend over.