We strolled through cabbage-lined promenades, laughing gaily at each other's gait. In the horse meadow, we lined up to pluck old Barney's eyebrows for fifty cents. We had them bronzed, I remember, as a keepsake from that day.
It began to rain cats and dogs, and we each took one, I a cat, and she a dog, and we wrapped them over our heads and made the best of it. Downtown, we rode on the ferrous wheel. Uptown, we rented a pavilion and put on a show - Catherine won an award for her performance in "Treacle and Protuberances" that day. We had the other actors bronzed, I remember, as a keepsake.
In the afternoon we went down to the park and set up a terrorist sting operation. Catherine was at her most beautiful as she rounded up the scoundrels that day. I remember that we had one of them, Mustapha, bronzed as a keepsake.
As we relaxed among the medieval guildsmen in the forest, listening to them belt out their great mix of soft rock from the sixties, seventies, and eighties, Catherine and I picked out a cooper to bronze later in the evening. We munched lazily on our supply tubing. When we got to the river (which I hadn't remembered being there) we hurled our animals, I my cat and Catherine her dog, into its mighty depths, and as the froth they stirred up sped downstream, we resolved to remember this blissful day forever. I'm still working on a way to bronze it.