good evening ladies and gentlemen and joe

I'm visiting my parents this weekend and wish I could stay a few more days.

This morning we went to OK Falls to check out the flea market. It wasn't very good, very few tables, and the stuff there was wasn't particularly interesting. We drove the back road to Vaseaux Lake and then Tuc El Nuit road to see where my cousins are building a new house. We happened to be sitting at the bottom of the drive and my cousin saw us and waved us in. We had a very short visit and then headed to the Kiwanis flea market, which was pretty awesome. I stopped myself from buying a punch bowl and an enamel pot with lid and plates because I was specifically and only looking for square Pyrex with lids. We drove back toward town and I asked if we could stop by the cemetary because I haven't been there for years and wanted to see where my uncle's headstone was placed. I saw my grandparents' plot and got a little teary when I saw my uncle's. Then I saw that my mom's best friend's plot was just up and over and that made me really teary. I didn't want to spend too much time there because my parents go there fairly often for funerals (the Catholics are very involved with funerals), but would like to go back when I have more time. We popped into the flea market in town and, while there was loads of good dishware, still I had no luck with the square Pyrex.

This afternoon I went to the meat draw with my dad and we sat with his regular crew. I find I have more to talk about with the men than the ladies, but I do really try to talk to the ladies. I saw my friend's dad and had a chat with him and my fake Irish granny popped by to give me a hug and a quick chat. The caller started the draws today with the subject line, a deliberate, though playful, dig at my dad; they tease each other constantly when they see each other, like little kids. My dad and I share a pitcher or two and he gets me some clamato; we went through two today. I wound up winning for the first time in, like, ever and picked out the T-bone steaks for my parents. (I can't take it home, unfortunately, because it won't stay frozen on the bus.) It was pretty great. Then we came home to tacos, and it just reminded me of being a kid and made me so happy.

Even though it's changed so much here, I still can't help but feel like a little kid when I'm here. And I wonder if I'll ever meet someone who will fit into this experience: who will chat with my dad's friends and want to hear stories about what it used to be like here and that will go to yard sales with me and my dad on Saturday mornings and be OK watching HGTV and Food Network shows for hours on end and see my mom's quilting projects. The older I get, the more concerned I get that the one who's meant for me will never know or see this part of me. Because this is the me that explains the adult me.