Professors Are UNFAIR.
I should not have had to bail on family yesterday to finish an assignment for Small Business Management Sunday evening. Who assigns homework right on Labor Day? (Hell, not really her fault. I should have finished it weeks ago.)
Aw, well. I got in five good hours with 'em yesterday, at least, plus dinner the night before. Skip the rest of this post if you're not interested in their doings...
Cousin Lizzie and her boyfriend Jeremy are looking well and moving forward quickly in their chosen professions, design and financial planning.
Cousins of my parents' generation Doug and Brenda Kincaid are always good to talk to, whether we're discussing things like Harrison Ford in The Witness or what books I'm reading or the status of Brenda's father, who has Alzheimer's but is holding onto basic functionality right now and at war with his power-mad neighbor.
Doug and Brenda's son Douglas was there, looking well; he asked me some questions about my job that were fun to answer.
Their daughter Sara, her husband John Martin Lesko and their children Hardt (4) and Crawford (2) are all settled nicely into Lynchburg. John, Jeremy, Hardt and I had a good time with a kid's foam football, even though its aerodynamic fins barely lasted through the game.
Uncle Jack and Aunt Sally are always good to see. Sally had prepared another DELICIOUS dessert, of course. Jack and I had a neat conversation in the ocean about A Clockwork Orange, 2001 and existentialism. And their sweet puppy, Winston, is wearing down Mom and Dad's resistance to getting a dog.
Mom's party-planning skills are impeccable as usual. (Mine need work: I'd wanted to get my buddies Greg, Charles and Jeneen out to meet some of these people and failed on all counts.) During our cookout lunch, Daddy took the role of master chef while Mom took the role of chief flyswatter.
Seeing extended family always leaves me with two bittersweet thoughts. I feel so bad for people who don't have this. And... how long do I want to stay in my ivory tower before getting a family of my own?
Aw, well. I got in five good hours with 'em yesterday, at least, plus dinner the night before. Skip the rest of this post if you're not interested in their doings...
Cousin Lizzie and her boyfriend Jeremy are looking well and moving forward quickly in their chosen professions, design and financial planning.
Cousins of my parents' generation Doug and Brenda Kincaid are always good to talk to, whether we're discussing things like Harrison Ford in The Witness or what books I'm reading or the status of Brenda's father, who has Alzheimer's but is holding onto basic functionality right now and at war with his power-mad neighbor.
Doug and Brenda's son Douglas was there, looking well; he asked me some questions about my job that were fun to answer.
Their daughter Sara, her husband John Martin Lesko and their children Hardt (4) and Crawford (2) are all settled nicely into Lynchburg. John, Jeremy, Hardt and I had a good time with a kid's foam football, even though its aerodynamic fins barely lasted through the game.
Uncle Jack and Aunt Sally are always good to see. Sally had prepared another DELICIOUS dessert, of course. Jack and I had a neat conversation in the ocean about A Clockwork Orange, 2001 and existentialism. And their sweet puppy, Winston, is wearing down Mom and Dad's resistance to getting a dog.
Mom's party-planning skills are impeccable as usual. (Mine need work: I'd wanted to get my buddies Greg, Charles and Jeneen out to meet some of these people and failed on all counts.) During our cookout lunch, Daddy took the role of master chef while Mom took the role of chief flyswatter.
Seeing extended family always leaves me with two bittersweet thoughts. I feel so bad for people who don't have this. And... how long do I want to stay in my ivory tower before getting a family of my own?
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