This afternoon while working in the tree farm, I saw the neighbor boy walk past. I called out to him and we had a little chat. He's been grounded, indefinitely, by his mother. On his own, he told her what he had done. He did the right thing, knowing full well there would be consequences he took the high road. I told him that. Maybe a part of him thought I'd speak to his mother, maybe not. Maybe he's just that kind of person as a result of his upbringing. And maybe his home life is better than I originally thought.
After our chat I showed him how the trees are sprouting new growth and the various stages they are in. One tree has a few new leaves coming in and he was fascinated by the sight. I was showing him the rhubarb plant and the vegetable garden spot and he asked me if we grew dill pickles. Huh? Ah, no, but we do grow cucumbers, and dill pickles are made from cucumbers.
Hmmm, that's a new one. Kids.