Bases Loaded

Grass-stains on knees are the least of their worries. The ball is lost in the hay again. Earlier this spring, they mowed a large section of this hayfield into a baseball diamond and then adorned it with torn up bits of T-shirt carefully arranged to mark out the bases. The infield is cropped short but the outfield is truly out in the field. The “hay” is really just a tangle of clover, some sort of domestic grass and wild strawberries. The game itself is doomed from the beginning. All attempts to keep the ball in the infield wind up with the ball in the tall grass. It's just a matter of time before this comes down to picking berries rather than looking for the ball.

childhood... nothing ever measures up but something always fits