Grings Mill

It was a Milkmonster weekend at the Team Little Dog household and just in time for us, Evilmommy released the clues for three new boxes just a few miles from our house. On Saturday morning, I discovered that Milkmonster does not seem to have inherited his Mimser's habit of waking up really early and I was grateful that True Indigo was available for online chatting while waiting for him to awaken. Finally about nine o'clock, I heard his happy little voice upstairs as he was saying good morning to his favorite buddy, Elmo. Then we had to go through his morning ritual of playing in the crib for about a half hour before he would allow me to get him up and dressed. And of course, there was then the half hour long breakfast and by eleven o'clock, we were ready to head for our destination of Gring's Mill in Wyomissing. The day was absolutely gorgeous and the park was packed but having a little one in a stroller is a great distraction for hunting boxes in a crowd. The Gring's Mill boxes are in a heavily used park but are far enough off of the trail that we were not really conspicuous. We headed first for Mrs. Bissinger's Ghost . I have reached a point in my letterboxing life where being first finder is of little interest to me, but I am quickly becoming addicted to being first finder for Evilmommy's boxes. She places the neatest first finders rewards in her boxes. We were first finder for Mrs. Bissinger's Ghost and I was rewarded with a ghostly woman patch to add to my collection. Milkmonster celebrated our find with a bag of graham cookies which kept him occupied safely for the time it took to stamp into both boxes.

We continued our walk along the Tulpehocken Creek towards our next box, a search for Mrs. Bissinger's children in the Gring's Mill Ghost Children . By this time, Milkmonster was out of the stroller and walking along the creek causing a nervous Mimser to hold my breath several times as he ventured a bit closer to take a look at some ducks or the flock of geese that meandered about. He was thoroughly enjoying his walk and seemed a bit disappointed when we had to stop to find the second box. In fact, he decided that it was time to go and told me this by "rehiding" the box himself piece by piece. As you can see from the picture, he needs some further lessons in box rehiding! Don't worry, Evilmommy, I didn't let it that way. While heading back to the mill and the parking lot, Milkmonster saw another tree with a similar hole and quickly ran up and peeked inside to see if all trees have goodies hidden in them. But not this time so he then decided to sit along the trail and just watch the world go by for a few minutes. I think one of the joys of being a grandparent is that you are usually not in a hurry to do anything with your grandchild and the kids have time to stop and smell the roses without anyone hurrying them along. Milkmonster sat there and watched the birds and the kids and the water for almost twenty minutes before he decided to head on down the trail. Till we got to the car, it was obvious that two boxes were the extent of a Milkmonster's attention span so we headed off to other adventures for the day. I do have to thank Evilmommy for reminding me that there are a few beautiful spots in Berks County, my adopted home county, and one which seems to be sorely lacking in beauty and charm to me. Gring's Mill is a park that I had visited several times when I first moved here and I had forgotten how lovely it is there.

Sunday was a repeat of the beautiful weather but we decided to forego finding the third Gring's Mill box in favor of visiting a local playground. This time it was Milkmonster's turn to lead the hike and after he exhausted himself on the sliding boards, he led me on a walk around the neighborhood, stopping to look at spring flowers, littered soda cans, bugs and Tootsie, the chocolate poodle belonging to a co-worker who happily came out to greet us. The weekend was so beautiful in so many ways - time with Milkmonster, wonderful weather, beautiful areas to visit. Here's to a whole spring of similar weekends.