Going Home

I went to visit my parents over the recent holiday. They have a nice large house, but going there feels a little like stepping into the past. Not my particular past, I didn't grow up in that house or anywhere near Southern California, but even with a new HD TV (no cable) and a new internet connection (finally!) it feels like I step back in time a couple decades. They have lots of old stuff that has always defined their home and it never gets thrown out.

I probably feel like that because there are fewer distractions. It's like taking a retreat, where you focus on relationship building or spending quiet time by yourself because there isn't much else to do. My brother and I didn't even get any real exercise in. We dug through the garage and all we could find were one baseball glove, a frisbee and a couple old wooden tennis racquets endorsed by Chris Everett. That and the heat was killer.

All we did was eat and marvel over the baby. LA does have that going for it. The best and cheapest Chinese food. Baby J was suprisingly cooperative in traveling there and back and tons of entertainment for seldomly seen grandparents.

Wifey finally got over some of the guilt of the parental thing and we got out to see a movie about a French chef rat. And we also went to a nice little wedding in the middle of a Japanese garden. Interesting setting. There was a pond in the middle of the place and all the tables were around the pond. It was hard to keep track of where people were in the dark.

Good trip, but glad to be back.