Ma and Pa Come Callin'

So. My parents have been here since Saturday, and yet I have not said one word about them here. What's up with that? The very question my father asked. What (he said), we're not exciting enough to warrant a mention on your site? Well, it's hard to compete with woodchuck fireworks, but I guess I can talk a little bit about them.

They came on Saturday and took A. and me out to a fancy restaurant to celebrate the anniversary that we almost forgot, and their anniversary the next day. They've been married a lot longer than we have. Like, 34 years. Because they're old. (Hi, Mom and Dad! Love you!)

Then we sat around here on Sunday, eating brunch, reading The New York Times, fending off the dogs (in my father's case) or petting the dogs (in my mother's case). And eating a big Sunday dinner. There was a lot of eating, because I was trying to stuff them as full of garden produce as I could so I wouldn't have to can it. Which is why there were no less than three vegetables at dinner on Sunday.

Then we toured about in their rental car, seeing gardens, eating some more, visiting farms, eating some more, admiring the stellar trailer add-on architecture of upstate New York. And eating some more. That brings us to yesterday.

My dad did this:

The last hurrah for the hammocks before winter.

My mom did this:

She wants to be like me when she grows up.

Then we ate some more. And soon, I will meet them for breakfast for one last opportunity to eat before they fly off into the wild blue yonder and return to their Arizona mountain home. Where they will no doubt begin a fasting regimen to cleanse their systems of all the food I forced on them while they were here.

Thanks for visiting, Mom and Dad. I hope you and your stomachs come again soon.