I was so happy the other day when Patrick got in the wading pool with Darby. He's far too grown up and mature for such things normally, but she really really wanted him to play. And he played so nicely with her, allowing her to climb on his back and spray him with the water hose and basically just be an insane little kid. It reminded me of when he was little and we lived in a tiny house with a tiny and somewhat scary backyard that backed up to an empty lot where transients sometimes hung around. It was a 1926 bungalow with original windows and old copper pipes and an unfinished upstairs loft with stairs built for dwarves (They were about half the width of normal stairs. Did people used to have miniature feet?) The house was so cute and charming from the front. I knew it would be ours the first time we looked at it through the windows. I loved the big front steps and the tiny front porch and the fireplace and the original cabinets and the pipes in the closets that we used to hang our clothes on. This picture is from the listing agent when we bought our first house. I wish I'd had a decent camera back in those days. I would have taken a thousand pictures of that house and all it's nooks and crannies.