I know a lot of people have some vague wish that they were younger but I wish I was precisely 11 years old.
If I could be 11, I know exactly who my best friend would be: this Welsh boy wearing a bright red Canadian tooke standing in front of this tree.
I got to go with him and my cousins to visit this really interesting place called: Greygynog
We saw a tree that had a cable buried into it and talked about the trees in Fanghorn Forest and maybe why they didn’t like people.
This is us in front of the three bear’s house where Santa actually comes around Christmas. (He and I are still young enough to know the truth about Santa that everyone else has forgotten as they got older.) I hope he never gets that old. I didn’t.
We talked about bees and wasps and hornets and saw mushrooms that are sometimes poisonous and I told him about how I ate wild onions on the prairie once and how it looked like the really poisonous Death Camas.
Yup, I wish I was precisely eleven.