Garden Statement

And so I return. It has been quite a while; it must look from the vantage point of the Internets as though I have disappeared into a pool of justified rage. And I have, if by this we mean "I have written a geography exam and then gone to New Jersey for a weekend with the fam". Both of these things went well, despite some justified rage at Continental Airlines and NYC-area air traffic control for trapping me in the airport for nearly five hours on Thursday night. Flight delays, bah humbug! I was confined in a Tim Hortons-less zone for interminable hours, with only bad tuna wraps to sustain me (I seriously have no idea what they did to the things; they tasted awful). My poor cousin John had to pick me up at the airport at 11:30 at night when he'd thought he would be home by 9:00.

The rest of the weekend was much more pleasurable. Friday I went into the city with Nina, Aunt Marie, and Lauren, or "baby Lauren", as Sophia calls her. We tripped around and did a little shopping, saw the Naked Cowboy, etc. Good times.

Friday night Aunt Marie and I babysat for Lauren so that Dan and Nina could go out for dinner. We watched the last half of Braveheart on TV, thus warping Lauren's tiny mind forever. If she is Scottish when she starts to talk, we will know why. If she commits treason against the king of England, we will also know why, though this will be difficult to do as she is not actually a British subject.

Saturday Nina took me into the city again -- she said she was very happy to do it, as it let her relive her Manhattan days, but it was still very nice of her! We went to see the Frick Collection, which is marvellous and is housed in a very beautiful building in the Museum Mile. It is right across from the Met, but so is everything in the Museum Mile because the Met is eleventy billion blocks long.

This was in the window at Carolina Herrera and I lust after it. There are lots of brocade coats in the shops at the moment but this was my favourite. The embroidery is just extraordinarily beautiful. So, you know, Christmas is coming up... who loves me?

The George Washington Bridge at the end of the day

Sunday was the big dinner with the family. Aunt Ronnie, Uncle Jim, and Jenna came up from South Jersey. Aunt Marie's three sons and their families also came, as did Aunt Elizabeth, Evelyn, and Linda. The babies were, again, a real highlight. I hadn't seen Sophia since she was about three months old; now she three and a half or so, and is full of energy. She's very sweet with her new little brother and with baby Lauren. Lauren loves her back, and went power-crawling across the floor to greet her when Michael, Marian, Sophia, and John arrived. John is only three months old and is reputed to wake up only when he is hungry. Nevertheless, he seems very good-tempered and darn cute. Most of my photos didn't turn out great, though there are a few I like. I was going to get Jenna to send me a few of hers, but in the meantime here are some that look OK. The photo I tried to take during dinner was not really a success; I should have known better! Anyway, the food was great and it was lovely to see everybody.

Monday Ruth was going to come by in the morning and take me to meet Father Brian (your friendly neighbourhood priest and a longtime friend of Ruth's) but unfortunately her truck's alternator broke and she had to spend some time in the Ford dealership on Route 17. In the end, we skipped out on Father Brian and cut straight to our traditional fare: lunch at the Park Tavern, home of the best pizza ever. Mmm, New Jersey bar pizza. Her sister Leslie came along, which was very nice indeed. It is lovely to spend time with Ruth but afterward my jaw always hurts because we both talk so darn much.

Later that day, John kindly trucked me back over to the airport. We were delayed about a half-hour, but that's how it goes with evening flights, I guess. Customs was uneventful, which is GOOD. This was, after all, my first solo international trip. And now I am all familied out and have to go study for my economics exam, which is tomorrow (gah). And then it is back to the airport, which is becoming my home away from my home-away-from-home. Hooray for Christmas!