Welp, another parental visit is in the books.
This one passed in a flash. Probably because they arrived well after dark last Wednesday and were outta here this morning. Pretty short, given that their stays usually exceed a week. Geez, guys, was it something I said?!
Actually, it was something their contractor said: “I’ll be there to paint your house on the 27th.” As enticing as America’s Dairyland may be, they’ve been waiting months to get the painting done. You might say that was the primary reason they gave us the brush–off so quickly.
(Is there anything more colorful than painting humor?)
The weather was pretty decent this time around. Sunshine, big fluffy clouds, no corn sweat. It’s actually been borderline chilly the past few days. Pleasant enough to sit out on the deck, but I had to put on pants for the first time in months. A nice little taste of fall, which is most welcome.
Less welcome? Those. Damn. Mosquitoes. I’ve never seen so many in my life. You take a few steps across the grass, and they swarm you. My dad and I tried to play corn hole in the backyard one evening, but there were so many of them, we were forced to pivot. I dragged the boards to the only non-grassy area on our property in the hope that there would be fewer mosquitoes: our driveway. Well, there weren’t as many of the little bloodsuckers there, but our driveway is on a slope, so the boards had a pronounced tilt that caused many of the bags to slide off the side when tossed. We were constantly adjusting our score, deciding that this bag would have stayed on if the surface was even, etc. Eventually, I got creative and placed cut pieces of wood under one side of each board to level them out. A makeshift solution, but it worked.
We split that series 1-1 but never did play any other games. It just wasn’t worth the hassle.
Also, my dad came down with a cold, so we had to switch up a few of our plans. He wasn’t completely miserable, but we cancelled our reservation at the Duck Inn Supper Club ’cause that’s no fun when you be illin’.
We did take a drive to Aztalan State Park in Jefferson one day. Cool place, a National Historic Landmark that was the site of an ancient Middle-Mississippian village from 1000-1300 A.D. According to the interpretive signs, Aztalan was basically a northern suburb of St. Louis, complete with stockades (I guess to keep the riffraff out?) and flat-topped mounds. I love historical shit like this and could probably spend hours there. I’d like to come back in the winter, when there’s snow on the ground, because honestly those mounds would make bitchin’ sledding hills.
That’s probably frowned upon though.
Oh, one other fun thing we did: my mom and I had a cabbage roll cookoff on Friday night. We grew up eating her stuffed cabbage, a treasured family recipe for decades. My mom is very much an “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” person, while I like to experiment with new variations on old themes. Last year, I found a recipe for a completely different version of stuffed cabbage and thought it would be fun to compare the two side-by-side. So, we each made a batch.
Hers simmer on the stove in a tomato soup-based sauce with a generous helping of sliced carrots. This is what I grew up with, so naturally, I assumed all cabbage rolls were made this way. Nope! Mine are covered in a sauce containing diced tomatoes, minced garlic, tomato sauce, a splash of apple cider vinegar, and a little brown sugar, and baked in the oven. There is nary a carrot to be found (much to my dad’s consternation; he is every bit the traditionalist, too).
To be fair, both versions were excellent. And each is unique. We officially declared it a draw, mostly because my mom threatened “grievous consequences” if we voted against her. Tara was actually the deciding vote, and while she said she had a clear favorite, she refused to divulge that information because she “didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.”
I’m pretty sure that’s MarTar code for “yours is better, babe!” but I could be wrong. Truly, like I said, both were delicious. If nothing else, it was a fun little experiment (though I could’ve really used a sous chef, ’cause all that prep work is a real chore).
Mark My Words 
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