Netherfield (aka Belmont Park) in March

Inside, I’m Juno the athlete, the cheerleader, the cross-country runner. It’s who I am, but not who I appear to be. So, I was sort of glad that we took the shortcut through the woods today. Joan’s sick again; she couldn't handle take the usual route that turns in mysterious ways and suddenly opens up on the lake.

During the first part of the walk, a big black dog named Bruno came charging through the woods to greet us. Some woman with a baby carriage kept calling him: “Bruno, get back here! Bruno, get back here!”

But Bruno didn’t listen. He and I exchanged greetings and wagged our tails while Shane whimpered. The woman kept calling Bruno, but he steadfastly ignored her. Then—no surprise here—Shane made a leap toward Bruno with his mouth wide open, and Bruno finally heeded the woman’s call. It’s good that she kept calling him; it helped him save face.

The rest of the walk was peaceful. Joan kept coughing and saying things like, “The woods around Netherfield are so lovely at this time of year.”

I think she was half expecting Mr. Darcy to trot out of the novel on his great brown steed. But, he never did show up. I knew he wouldn't.

All in all, it was a good walk. Not too long. Not too short.

Best wishes, Juno