All are home, safe and sound

Mom, Dad, and the Cooneys have returned safely to Iowa after their whirlwind visit.  It was so nice to share Ithaca with friends and family.  We love where we live, we like having company, and I think Arwyn enjoyed having additional cat-lovers in the house.  She also likes the new furniture, which fits perfectly in the bedroom.  I pulled down all of the sweaters and swimsuits and such from the attic, as well as the baskets of socks and t-shirts that have been sitting around, waiting for a home, and filled the drawers.  I am still hearing a bit of drawer-open, drawer-shut, drawer-open from Sydney as he tries to get dressed in the morning, but I’m much happier with everything in its place 🙂

Continuing in our farming, Mom and Dad helped us pull and shell dry beans as we kicked back in our living room, and were rewarded with cherry tomatoes and red peppers and such.  Dad got to make lots of jokes about going to all that work to haul out furniture from Iowa, and then be stuck doing farm-hand work when he finally got to Ithaca.  But he seemed okay with it, and it gave us something to keep our hands busy while we talked.  Sydney’s canned pickles were a big hit.

While Mom was learning things from our local Alternatives Credit Union Dad and I got in a game of golf on Monday.  By which I mean he golfed, and I followed along, tugging the bag of clubs and pretending to give advice now and then.  It’s become something of a ritual for us, and I was veeeery happy to get out and about after all of that eating out over the weekend.

I think I’m becoming something of an academic.  Not that I am a good one, or have brilliant ideas, but I get itchy and irritable if I don’t get some reading in for a few days.  Thankfully, I got in a nice, long day of reading articles yesterday and today, so my brain will stop having a conniption over my weekend holiday.  And now we’re back to the usual: some days on campus, Sydney’s got a conference this weekend, and I’m typing up notes on the books I’m working through.


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