Inventory

Okay. It's 12:15 a.m. Let's take inventory.

- The youngest kids and their parents, as well as the oldest folks, are asleep already. Don't they sound responsible? This will serve them so well tomorrow morning when we must start packing to leave. The rest of us, well?

- Three people are playing Irish music in the dining room. Bobby, my FIL's cousin, drove in this morning and is the musicians' ardent audience member. This desk is in front of one of the windows that opens into the dining room, so I can watch and listen to them from the great room.

- Bunny and her favorite cousin are playing hide-and-seek in the kitchen/dining room. There aren't any good hiding places, so they do a lot of pretending and giggling. I think they've also broken out the ice cream. It's high time they went to bed, but as the cousin is the daughter of one of the busiest musicians, and we're still existing in cabin reality, there's little I'm actually prepared to do in the way of traditional parenting on this issue. Rock on, little girls.

- Meanwhile here in the great room, BB and the teenagers are watching "Aliens". It's the third movie to be played this evening. First was a Disney movie, next was "Sideways" for the discerning adults. (What an odd movie. Not sure what to make of it yet.) BB gets testy if the kids talk too much. It's kind of funny. I hope they talk again.

- Daisy is sitting on my lap as I type at the computer. This has been the best week of her life. Dozens of people to pet her, lots of snacks, and daily walks through the woods with no leash. She's not going to be exactly impressed by our return to suburbia tomorrow.

- Me? I'm so ready to go home.

Comments

[Anthony]

So much for Freud's "Civilization and It's Discontents" eh?
Maybe Douglas Addams shouls have written a book called "The Nature and Porpoise of Everything" in which Arthur Dent wakes up in a shower in Dallas, Texas only to discover he's imprisoned in some OTHER writer's reality and he has to get out before he's transported to the Ultimate Hell Last Stop on the Fictional Line: Full House!!
Bob Saget and Arthur Dent! Separated at Death?

[pam]

Yeah, my family-togetherness threshold appears to have been reached. If we lived here I'd need a unibomber-type shack of my very own up in the abandoned front yard.

[Anthony]

Even I, with my relatively with-it grasp of contemporary politics, never quite figured out why Ted K called himself the Unabomber. But UNIbomber sounds like a terrorist with limited ambitions...
I always thought the Unabomber Manifesto would have a made a really great pomo musical by Laurie Anderson or Meredith Monk or even Lou Reed!

[Ms. Jane]

Sounds heavenly. Was there wine to drink?

[pam]

Ms. Jane, I could write a sweeping saga about the amount and variety of alcohol consumed this week. And oh, there was wine. Every variety but pinot, ironically (given that we watched "Sideways").