Indians have moved in.

And I don't mean the casino down the road. Indians, blond indians, have moved into our backyard. They built a tee pee and have gathered sticks, berries, grains and cookies for their dinner.

Remember when you were young, you would play "lost children" or "indians". Remember building a little stone fireplace to cook your mud desserts on? You'd heap up sticks you gathered around the yard and only wish your mother would trust you with a match. You would build a shelter using all the blankets mom would let you take outside. Spend lots of time making it perfect, clothes-pinning here and there. Finally you would crawl inside, lay down on the poky, cool grass and stare up at the sky and think...maybe, just maybe when I crawl out I will really be out in the woods. Then you would feel little bugs starting to crawl on you and that adventure would end. I can still remember those fun play days, I guess that is why I love seeing my children pretend.