Fifty-eighth Passage

Lydia has figured out the sliding glass door. She is constantly going in and out of the house to the back yard. I let her, usually. The yard is fenced, it's been nice and warm, and if she's outside playing, she isn't inside whining at me.
Today she came in after a brief romp outside to show me this.

Clearly she'd been eating mud. We got her all cleaned up, and then she went outside again. This time I watched. She went straight to the garden area, which we still haven't really cleaned up from last year. She loves playing in it, and has even made a trail through the middle of it.
She got to the most cleared spot of dirt, and plopped down on her rump, princess dress and all.

What a girly-girl tom boy.
It's got to be uncomfortable sitting in dirt with just underpants to protect you.