After putt-putt there was ice cream, and after ice cream there was the drive home, naps for the kiddies and infuriating rounds of spit for J. and myself. They weren't really infuriating. It was the first time during the busy weekend where she and I just sat, played some cards and shot the shit, which was nice. The kids woke up after a while and then there were some impromptu activities: playing in the sandbox, batting and throwing (I don't think I was made to be the pitcher for tiny people baseball games...actually maybe I was, since they hardly ever hit the balls I threw). G. at one point got into his dad's car.
For dinner the kids had pizza. This particular plate was C.'s.
And this was G.'s. Notice the green and blue of the plate here. I don't know why, but the fact that my childhood friend and I purchased this flatware as a wedding gift for J. and V., and that they actually use it, gives me an immense sense of accomplishment. I remember going to the linens n' things in Kingston, NY with childhood friend/J. to purchase a gift and being--at 20 years old--entirely uncertain about what was appropriate or useful for two people getting married. At the time I lived with my friend S., a fervent Pfaltsgraff supporter, so the fact that these dishes are Pfaltzgraff is thanks to S.
Grown up dinner consisted of cucumbers with vinegar, barbeque from the party and coleslaw. Man, barbeque is goood. Maybe I should put that on my list of things to do down here in Tennessee.
Later on bocci ball was played. People think I'm joking when I say I carry bocci ball in my car at all times, but I'm not. V. has an established love of horseshoes and I think bocci is natural extension for him. G. had a pretty hard time grasping the basic tenet of bocci (leave the pretty silver ball where it is) and had to be whisked away in order to have any game played/no children getting beaned in the head with heavy metal balls; he was not happy about this. Nonetheless J., C. and I played a few good rounds...C. has a future in the sport, I think. Then V., C. and I played a little. I had only met V. oh so briefly during their wedding days (I was a bridesmaid) and then once just after C. was born, so it was nice to actually get to know the partner and husband of a dear friend. Also, the man can fix things. The handle to my bocci ball case has been useless for god only knows how long and within five minutes of realizing this, V. had found a screw and got out the power drill. Now it's like some serious country sorcery, all able to be carried like a brief case instead of an extra large box of pizza. Winners, all around!
This was my last night in Scottsville, and it was lovely.
For dinner the kids had pizza. This particular plate was C.'s.
And this was G.'s. Notice the green and blue of the plate here. I don't know why, but the fact that my childhood friend and I purchased this flatware as a wedding gift for J. and V., and that they actually use it, gives me an immense sense of accomplishment. I remember going to the linens n' things in Kingston, NY with childhood friend/J. to purchase a gift and being--at 20 years old--entirely uncertain about what was appropriate or useful for two people getting married. At the time I lived with my friend S., a fervent Pfaltsgraff supporter, so the fact that these dishes are Pfaltzgraff is thanks to S.
Grown up dinner consisted of cucumbers with vinegar, barbeque from the party and coleslaw. Man, barbeque is goood. Maybe I should put that on my list of things to do down here in Tennessee.
Later on bocci ball was played. People think I'm joking when I say I carry bocci ball in my car at all times, but I'm not. V. has an established love of horseshoes and I think bocci is natural extension for him. G. had a pretty hard time grasping the basic tenet of bocci (leave the pretty silver ball where it is) and had to be whisked away in order to have any game played/no children getting beaned in the head with heavy metal balls; he was not happy about this. Nonetheless J., C. and I played a few good rounds...C. has a future in the sport, I think. Then V., C. and I played a little. I had only met V. oh so briefly during their wedding days (I was a bridesmaid) and then once just after C. was born, so it was nice to actually get to know the partner and husband of a dear friend. Also, the man can fix things. The handle to my bocci ball case has been useless for god only knows how long and within five minutes of realizing this, V. had found a screw and got out the power drill. Now it's like some serious country sorcery, all able to be carried like a brief case instead of an extra large box of pizza. Winners, all around!
This was my last night in Scottsville, and it was lovely.
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