Into the Mild

Last Friday MJP, The Kid and I spent the afternoon at French Creek State Park. Even though I'd purchased hiking shoes, special socks, and a new Swiss army knife to prepare for this adventure, we wound up spending most of our time in the bracing waters of the park's swimming pool. That was probably for the best, considering that I'd left the insect repellent back home in Philly. After splashing around in the pool with the The Kid and as many of her plastic dinosaurs (a.k.a The Dinos) as her little hands could carry, we did do a bit of hiking around Hopewell Lake. On the trail we encountered a grasshopper, a mushroom, a Viceroy butterfly, some kind of yellow and blue butterfly, one adult male human, two adult female humans, a mixed group of Mennonite humans and an empty can of Milwaukee's Best. Fortunately, even though we did cross a bridge, there were no greedy trolls to be seen.

We left the park and headed for Shoefly's house (a.k.a Goatland), which is not far from the state park. Mr. and Ms. Fly, I explained to The Kid in case she was expecting a DisneyWorld of goats, only have two goats. Two turned out to be plenty for The Kid, who was quite pleased to feed them carrots. Ms. Fly fed us a tasty spinach pie, mozzarella, and some of the most flavorful tomatoes I've ever eaten, fresh from the Shoefly garden. The grown-ups drank Guinness and talked about music, politics, religion and such while The Kid and the two Shoefly boys romped around together. Mr. Fly fortified MJP with an espresso, then it was time to drive back to the big city and the ever irritating I-76 Conshohoken Curve.

In spite of a few navigational snafus, this mini vacation was a success in my book. I'd love to return to French Creek and really get my money's worth out of my hiking shoes soon.