We got home from our visit to the Tidal Basin just when the light is prettiest. My mom started preparing dinner, Mark and my dad sat on the deck and (I presume) talked about manly things, and I took one last stroll around the yard where I spent countless hours as a child:
Doesn’t my mom look like she belongs on a cookbook cover? She made a lasagna from scratch. It smelled amazing and we were all pretty hungry from the two-mile trek around the Tidal Basin. It’s not the mileage that wears you out, but the slow trudge of the clueless at a crowd density of approximately three people per square yard, and double that on the Metro platform where half of the escalators are inexplicably shut down. But anyway, the anticipation of dinner was so great that there may have been some celebratory dancing while the table was being set.
Finally, one last meal in my childhood home:
That house is full of good memories — I hope somebody special buys it.
I wish we could! Just to keep it, and all of our chldhood stuff Mom and Dad have gradually migrated to our respective houses:)