Fields of fun

We've had a really good few days. The weather's been a bit unpredictable, so whenever it's stopped raining we've gone out but not ventured too far. One of our favourite destinations has been the local playing fields. There's no playground or pond or cafe, or anything that makes it into a proper park, but B. and I are still big fans as we've found tons of things to do there.

There are three main fields. The first has a football pitch and lots of steep hills. We call this the rolling field. We lie down at the top of a hill and roll all the way down. B. has a stronger constitution to me, and while it often makes me feel quite dizzy and green, she thrives on dizzy and laughs hysterically all the way down!

The second field has a running track and an old long jump site (ie. a sandpit). We spend lots of time running around the track, stopping occasionally to say "ready, steady, GO!". I'm sure getting lots of exercise this way, and B. has so much energy to burn. The sandpit is obviously also a big attraction. One of these days we will remember to take her bucket and spade, but in the meantime she's loving trekking through the sand and just getting dirty. This field is on a slightly lower level than the first, so also has some steps leading down to it with a grassy slope running alongside them. This is the aeroplane slope. We climb up the steps, counting as we go, and then bolt down the slope with our arms outstretched making loud aeroplane noises. The slope is steep, so we go pretty fast and it's really hard to stop. Thank heavens for our imaginary runway!

We call the third field the chicken field. There are no chickens there, but chickens is what B. calls pigeons. There are always plenty of pigeons in this field, and one of her favourite activities is terrorising these poor oblivious birds. When she spots a flock of pigeons, peacefully going about their day, she lets out a loud war-cry of "CHICKENS!!!", and then launches after any who are brave or stupid enough not to have taken this as a warning. Soon there are pigeons fleeing in all directions. I dread to think of what she'd do if ever she caught one...

Then on the way home we count slugs, look to see what's growing on the allotments, and sniff the flowers in peoples' front gardens. Proper parks are always nice, but with a bit of imagination fields can be good too.