Home sweet home

We're back, and I'm like a walking -- no, sitting -- zombie right now between a very early flight and a long weekend of high-intensity parenting, especially of a certain child whose ADHD seems to crescendo into a travel-induced mania. Note to self: NEVER TRAVEL WITHOUT HUSBAND AGAIN. At least, not with all three darlings.

But I DID get to see a bunch of very old friends at a wedding there, and I DID get to feel useful by getting up a couple times a night to help my dad turn over, and we DID pick blueberries under the blazing sun with my longsuffering sister, and I DID spend a delightful day with the Nelsons, which felt like the two-and-a-half year gap since our last meeting simply hadn't happened. The kids instantly re-bonded over throwing a teddy bear in and out of a window. Hey, whatever it takes. Why beat around the bush with "How was the trip?" niceties?

Thanks to my parents and sister for accommodating me and the Wild Things.

Oh! And one more thing before I enter a coma. We introduced my dad to letterboxing while up there, going on a merry hunt through the pet cemetery nearby (nicer than it sounds). He was quite impressive, off-roading in his power-chair. But the cutest thing was at the end, when Caroline found a tiny toad, chased it, caught it, determined to bring it home, and named it ... guess. Should be "Toady," right? According to the Laws of Toddler Pet-Naming?

Ha. Try "Arlene." Go figure.