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penfield"What greater thing is there for human souls than to feel that they are joined for life - to be with each other in silent unspeakable memories."
- George Eliot
First, my grandparents announced that they were coming to Rochester for the week leading up to Independence Day. Since I always try to seize opportunities to see my grandparents, and since I was just about due for a trip home, I thought it would be nice if J. and I came up for that first weekend. Long after we made these plans, I learned that my Aunt M. would be flying in from Long Island on the same weekend. And a few weeks before I left, my parents informed me that my brother -- who lives in San Diego but was on the job in New York City, was making a stopover in Rochester that very same weekend.
So that's eight people, styaing here in a house that is reasonably sized but at times seemed ready to burst at the seams when only four people were living there full time. My mother, who could barely contain her enthusiasm at being surrounded by her family, tried to assuage my concerns.
"It'll be like camping!" she said.
My mother has known me for all 31+ years of my life, but is apparently still unaware that I am unlikely to respond favorably to anything that could be considered similar to camping. Foraging for food, repelling bugs and "wiping" with leaves is not my idea of a vacation.
But now that all of us are here, and about to start preparing and devouring a barbequed feast, and hearing stories from the olden days, and being reminded of what a good boy I am, I have to admit that I'm having a lot of fun. But I'm staying inside the whole time.
- George Eliot
First, my grandparents announced that they were coming to Rochester for the week leading up to Independence Day. Since I always try to seize opportunities to see my grandparents, and since I was just about due for a trip home, I thought it would be nice if J. and I came up for that first weekend. Long after we made these plans, I learned that my Aunt M. would be flying in from Long Island on the same weekend. And a few weeks before I left, my parents informed me that my brother -- who lives in San Diego but was on the job in New York City, was making a stopover in Rochester that very same weekend.
So that's eight people, styaing here in a house that is reasonably sized but at times seemed ready to burst at the seams when only four people were living there full time. My mother, who could barely contain her enthusiasm at being surrounded by her family, tried to assuage my concerns.
"It'll be like camping!" she said.
My mother has known me for all 31+ years of my life, but is apparently still unaware that I am unlikely to respond favorably to anything that could be considered similar to camping. Foraging for food, repelling bugs and "wiping" with leaves is not my idea of a vacation.
But now that all of us are here, and about to start preparing and devouring a barbequed feast, and hearing stories from the olden days, and being reminded of what a good boy I am, I have to admit that I'm having a lot of fun. But I'm staying inside the whole time.
