Whew.

Just back from Indiana.

It's always an entertaining and relaxing trip to my parents' house. When I got there my mom had beans and cornbread waiting on me (Mmm, I love beans and cornbread) and my dad had the posters all framed I'd asked to him to frame.

While I was there I read in the Chronicle-Tribune that a subdivision (Vinyl Village) is going up a block away from my parents' house, which is deeply disturbing to me. They're planning 227 plots with houses ranging from $90,000 to $180,000. I don't know who they think can afford that in Marion since all the factories shut down, but I'm sure they have it all figured out.

"This is an outrage!" I announced as I read the paper. "It's going to ruin our working class neighborhood!"

"I thought it was a good thing," my mom said. "Maybe our property value will go up."

"Next thing you know they're going to declare our house 'blighted' so they can build a Meijer here," I said.

"Good," my dad said. "We'll sell it. I've been wanting a place where I can have a pool table."

So much for my outrage.

And now, a photo tour of the weekend:


My mom at Aunt Sue's Tea Room. It's our favorite pre-shopping spot. I bought two pairs of shoes during our adventure. Perhaps those dreams will end now.



We rode bikes around the neighborhood on Sunday. I love these bikes. They have big seats so your butt doesn't hurt as bad when you're done riding. And I made out with a tire guage too. Pretty exciting.



My dad in what he calls "The Office." Any wrench, tool, saw, drill press and color of paint you could possibly need is right here. And it's decorated with pictures I colored when I was four. So it's also fancy.



Ahh. Now isn't this nice? My dad finally got around to fixing his truck that got totalled. He pulled the front end out by tying a chain around a tree and the front of the truck. Then he put her in reverse and voila. And he added this sweet wood bumper. He's very proud.

Kid you not, while I was there some man came to the front door to ask my dad if he wants to sell it.

"Why would anyone want to buy that truck," I asked after he left.

"Who wouldn't want to buy it!" my dad said.

"What are you going to do with it," I wanted to know.

"I'm gonna put a headlight in it and haul gravel."

"That bumper is pretty awesome," I said, taking a photo of it.

"I'm tellin' ya awesome."

"Do you haul that much gravel," I asked.

"Sometimes," he said. "It has a radiator leak. I figure if it breaks down I'll just have your uncle Don come get me. I live on the edge."

Once a summer when I was a kid we'd go to the gravel pit and get rocks to spread over the driveway. When one load was spread we'd go get another. We did this about four times in one day. I used to love going to the gravel pit.



The windshield wiper fluid pointer thingy is still turned the wrong way from the crash. So when you hit the fluid button, it squirts it straight up into the air. I laughed so hard I nearly peed my pants at Lowe's when my dad showed me this. You can sort of see the wiper fluid shooting up in this photo.



The squirting truck from the front.



I came home to this. Forget the trash. Poor Cassius had gotten a plastic bag stuck around him. It was caught over his head and under his front leg.



Side view.