vacation is over

Poor Petey had to go back to work this morning. He found a silver lining in the cloud. He found his clogs. They were under the bed at the Wallace house. He was a happy guy, well-- his feet are happy.

My folks came down to check out our new old house and Mom rescued me on two counts. She brought her flower books and we got almost everything Id-ed in the garden. AND she loved the lighthouse paraphernalia from the master bath and she adopted it all. YAY Mommy!

Daddy was a priceless treasure. I kept asking him shit and he kept answering. I felt like a 12 year old, but he had all the answers. Sump pumps. Barn doors. water softeners, aquifer levels, dryer plug grounds. fridge door hinges. My dad is the shit and the shizzle. He may *think* he is the bastard love child of Henry David Thoreau and MacGyver, but I've seen my grandparents and they are perfectly normal. No anti social tendencies or even super human skills of repair-osity. My dad likes our farm.

He is pretty sure we need to buy Zoli a riding lawn mower. I agree completely but there is that cash flow thing. We all kept teasing Z that he was gonna have to mow 3.8 acres with the push mower. Prior to finding this house Zoli and I were sorta shopping for an old school push roller--not so much now. (oooh I should find the sonnet I wrote for Eric. I think it is on the desk top harddrive.