Yesterday the girls and I cooked a pudgy pie dinner over the fire in the orchard while I continued the after pruning clean up. Things were going swimmingly, (I was the only one who burned herself) and then the marshmallows came out and we discovered a problem.

They couldn’t find a marshmallow stick. 

Let me just repeat myself. We were standing amongst 32 fruit trees that had just been pruned.  I was sorting the branches into different piles, ones that were fire wood sized and ones with everything smaller. Small and large piles of brush were everywhere.

And my children, the ones I like to think are above average on all counts, could not find an appropriate sized stick with which to roast a marshmallow.

Their first sticks were short enough to be laughable under any circumstances. But look carefully at the photo below and you can see not only their very short sticks but also the giant pile of branches stacked right behind them.

Ivy attempted to convince me to cut one of my firewood logs a bit shorter for her to use for her next stick – I refused. Though I think my cousin was right when he said I should have. Just so I could have seen her try and smash her marshmallow on the end of a three inch log.

I took pity on them and sent them to a brush pile.

They still couldn’t find a stick.

It took bit more wandering in the orchard-turned-brush-maze and another hint or two from me before they came back with sticks even Jane could use.

It’s a good things spring is here, I think winter may have rotted the girls brains and we’ve got some learning to do.

Next lesson: How to find a rock…