DARRRR-FFY!

One of our new next door neighbors often has her three year-old granddaughter visiting or staying with her, and she has become quite enamored with Miss Dorothy.  Being three, when she calls Dorothy's name loudly, she says Darfy instead of Dorothy.  So if we step out on the porch and Savannah is out in the yard next door, we will hear, "DARRRRR-FY!" and then Darfy and Savannah will greet each other like they didn't just see each other the day before.

I daresay Savannah is one of the things Dorothy puts in the "pro" column when she considers her city life and her suburban life.  Perhaps tied for the top of the "pro" list along with Living With Beloved Dad, is undoubtedly our backyard.  Dorothy LOVES the yard.  So much so that we find ourselves spelling y-a-r-d, because if we say "yard", Dorothy will run and stand by the back door and cry to be let out in it.  Once in the yard, Dorothy will run like a demon, all fast-moving muscle, and try to engage her dad in a game of frisbee.  She zooms and jumps (and eats grass, sigh) and has the best time ever.  She doesn't even seem to mind the clouds of mosquitoes which keep me in the sun porch watching the action from behind a screened window.  (It's October, will the mosquitoes ever die?!)

And then when she comes back in, Dorothy usually has to collapse and pant and gain her equilibrium.  Here she is after such a venture:

Do they think I don't know what y-a-r-d- spells?!