This weekend we took the opportunity of a break in work and weather to visit the old mill in Roswell.
We don’t come here very often–the last time we visited was New Year’s Day, and Anselm got to ride face-forward in the stroller for the first time. This time we didn’t need a stroller at all.
They are really beginning to favor one another, I think.
Running too fast means a loss of shoe à la Cinderella; fortunately Big Brother is there to help him put it back on (with eventual help from Mama.)
Thick as thieves.
Then there had to be a quick rock-break:
Those boys’ fingernails are perpetually dirty; I have no idea why.
Anselm wouldn’t do “noses”. He’s not a fan, unlike Clive.
I had to keep reminding him: “Clivey, we’re not getting in.”
Ephraim doesn’t care about water, but heads straight for the dirt.
A jump, part one: