For years the trampoline was tucked away inside a hidden ring of trees beside the house. Since it was almost always covered in leaves and pine needles, and in a spot frequented by mosquitoes, the kids rarely played on it.
Last month, we moved it onto the big field in front of the house. Suddenly both Adam and Eric seemed to be jumping non-stop, and I've so enjoyed watching them from the veranda, or while weeding the nearby flower beds.
The night before mother's day was bitterly cold and windy, and when we woke the next morning this sorry sight met our eyes. Poor Adam rushed out into the garden holding his arms spread wide, and shouting "Oh no!, oh no!". He then promptly burst into tears and rushed to me to be hugged ... he could only be consoled with a turn on the swing.
Although it looks dire, the trampoline seems to be fixable, once we have the time (work's crazy at the moment for all of us) and the help of a friend who is a welding genius. Hopefully it won't be too long ... I love our afternoons out in the garden, boys jumping while I pick vegies and water in seedlings.
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