The Folks from Montana drove to California in January. They reported snow on the ground from Kalispel to Donner Pass.
They said, "We won't do that again."
The Folks from Montana flew to Texas in February while our daffodils were in bloom. Southwest Airlines treated 'em right all the way from Spokane to Love Field; and maybe they'll do that again.
Dad, just two days beyond his 82nd birthday when he landed in Dallas looked marvelous - as did Mom. It being Mardi Gras - we fixed up an early shrimp-boil dinner with dirty rice and a traditional King Cake for dessert. We put candles on top for a belated birthday party feel. Dad even got the hidden "Baby Jesus" inside his piece of cake. Guarantee of good luck for the year.
But since they had gotten out of bed at 3:45 that morning to catch a shuttle to the Spokane Airport, we sang "Happy Birthday" and invoked the pre-Lenten spirit with a shout of "Let the good times roll!" Then they rolled upstairs to the refurbished guest room to catch some Z's.
But they did not stay in bed long. Hosting my parents is kind of like hosting a pair of border collies - you got to keep them busy or they may just get into some mischief. What to do with my 80+ year-old parents? Put 'em to work!
You're damn straight I did.
Dad made short work of rehanging the wooden side gates so they swing free and easy, latching with a satisfying solid sound as they close. Then I had him scape and paint the trim around the back windows and the garage door this mid-February. And since not even that was enough I then instructed him to re-attach some loose iron pickets on by back fence. All accomplished, a job well done. Mom was assigned some shirt modifications and hemming of some slacks. No slacker there either.
Some nights we cooked at home, some nights we went out on Dad's dime. We were sorry to see that Luna Del Noche, our preferred local, high-end Mexican restaurant had become Senor Chacha. We then scrambled to a Plan B - Cafe Brazil. Good food, but not on the "adventurous" side of the menu.
For good Mexican food, we were invited over to Cousin Karl's house where he hosted a fine dinner with great enchiladas. Karl is a transplant to Dallas from Montana, the son of my Dad's sister, which of course makes him my cousin and Dad's nephew. He and Jini make for most pleasant company as we ate and shared family stories around the table.
For our Big City Food Adventure: I forced everyone to Saigon Block on Sunday night, and insisted we order the baked catfish. Dad associates catfish with the south, and had some prejudices against the muddy fish, but I prevailed. Minh, our waiter promised to show us how to handle a Vietnamese Catfish; after removing the backbone in a single motion, a portion of the fish covered in peanuts and herbs was pluck from the dish and placed in rice paper
and accessorized with fresh vegetables, rolled into an "Asian tortilla" [forgive me], dipped into the sauce and consumed hand-to-mouth.
They said, "We won't do that again."
The Folks from Montana flew to Texas in February while our daffodils were in bloom. Southwest Airlines treated 'em right all the way from Spokane to Love Field; and maybe they'll do that again.
Dad, just two days beyond his 82nd birthday when he landed in Dallas looked marvelous - as did Mom. It being Mardi Gras - we fixed up an early shrimp-boil dinner with dirty rice and a traditional King Cake for dessert. We put candles on top for a belated birthday party feel. Dad even got the hidden "Baby Jesus" inside his piece of cake. Guarantee of good luck for the year.
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| Dad's Mardi Gras King Cake/Birthday Cake Let the Good Times Roll! |
But since they had gotten out of bed at 3:45 that morning to catch a shuttle to the Spokane Airport, we sang "Happy Birthday" and invoked the pre-Lenten spirit with a shout of "Let the good times roll!" Then they rolled upstairs to the refurbished guest room to catch some Z's.
But they did not stay in bed long. Hosting my parents is kind of like hosting a pair of border collies - you got to keep them busy or they may just get into some mischief. What to do with my 80+ year-old parents? Put 'em to work!
You're damn straight I did.
Dad made short work of rehanging the wooden side gates so they swing free and easy, latching with a satisfying solid sound as they close. Then I had him scape and paint the trim around the back windows and the garage door this mid-February. And since not even that was enough I then instructed him to re-attach some loose iron pickets on by back fence. All accomplished, a job well done. Mom was assigned some shirt modifications and hemming of some slacks. No slacker there either.
Some nights we cooked at home, some nights we went out on Dad's dime. We were sorry to see that Luna Del Noche, our preferred local, high-end Mexican restaurant had become Senor Chacha. We then scrambled to a Plan B - Cafe Brazil. Good food, but not on the "adventurous" side of the menu.
For good Mexican food, we were invited over to Cousin Karl's house where he hosted a fine dinner with great enchiladas. Karl is a transplant to Dallas from Montana, the son of my Dad's sister, which of course makes him my cousin and Dad's nephew. He and Jini make for most pleasant company as we ate and shared family stories around the table.
For our Big City Food Adventure: I forced everyone to Saigon Block on Sunday night, and insisted we order the baked catfish. Dad associates catfish with the south, and had some prejudices against the muddy fish, but I prevailed. Minh, our waiter promised to show us how to handle a Vietnamese Catfish; after removing the backbone in a single motion, a portion of the fish covered in peanuts and herbs was pluck from the dish and placed in rice paper
and accessorized with fresh vegetables, rolled into an "Asian tortilla" [forgive me], dipped into the sauce and consumed hand-to-mouth.
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| Vietnamese Baked Catfish Served in a platter with waiter's hand about to extract the fish's spine |
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| Plate awaiting Catfish |
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| Mom & Dad at Saigon Block The Catfish Dinner! |
After dinner, Dad said the meal was "interesting".
Prior to their arrival in Texas, our February was sunny with above average temperatures, the week before they landed in town we were at 79 degrees. The rain and typically cool weather came in their suitcases. Though some days reached up to the low 60's - which they thought was grand and ate their lunch outside (brrr). Saturday's bright afternoon's sun did seem to call for a walk in the woods, so we headed to the Spring Creek Nature Preserve, parkland set aside to give us suburbanites a feel for the "Blackland Prairie" that existed before shopping complexes and planned neighborhood development.
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| A Walk in the Woods Texas February Sun Mom, Dad & Wife |
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| Sue wishes she had a camera... because it was This BIG! |
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| Moon Snag |
Up early on Tuesday, leaving for Love Field at 5:30 AM for a 7:30 flight back to Spokane. We made it in plenty of time.
Mom & Dad, thanks for everything.
We see you on the lake in Montana later!
*************
When I was 11 years old, my grandparents came to visit us. We were living in a small town, and the weekly newspaper was always looking to fill space. So, the visit of my grandparents was noted on one of the interior pages with a simple, but unedited item that read as such:
Coit and Anne Suneson from Montana, the parents of Alfred Suneson were in town visiting their son this past week the affair netted $300.
We are always the richer when we are visited by other generations.
*************
When I was 11 years old, my grandparents came to visit us. We were living in a small town, and the weekly newspaper was always looking to fill space. So, the visit of my grandparents was noted on one of the interior pages with a simple, but unedited item that read as such:
Coit and Anne Suneson from Montana, the parents of Alfred Suneson were in town visiting their son this past week the affair netted $300.
We are always the richer when we are visited by other generations.
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