Last summer I was home, during pandemic “stay-at-home-or-at-least-in-your-bubble” orders, with three boys. Three full of energy, want to run outside, gosh our backyard is getting boring, boys. They wanted to know “can we have a trampoline?” With what money? They insisted life would be better if we had a better wading pool, or just a real one, which I agreed with, but still was not going to happen. The play structure seemed to have outlived its usefulness, and there are only so many hours one can spend looking for bugs and other creepy-crawlies in our woodpile or in the garden. Trying to catch butterflies is no use, because they just won’t be caught, and we already raised and let go two rounds of Painted Ladies in the spring. It was July and life was getting boring. Every week, if not twice a week, I tried to find some kind of outing to tickle our fancy. We found nature parks to walk in, while walking AROUND any people we came a...