It's in the 60's my friends. We've spent all afternoon in the garden. Ada tromps around, explores little corners, digs around in the dirt. She was even munching on a leaf with a slug on it. (Thanks for catching that one Brianna!)
When we came in for naps (Wait, naps? Nap. I wish I took one too) Ada screamed and thrashed and let me know in no uncertain terms that she would rather live in the garden outside than sleep.
I have a feeling we might be spending every waking hour out of doors. Fine by me . . .