It's good to be home
They've also recently upgraded to a good laptop and a high-speed connection, so my dad spends time reading random websites ("I'm just looking at some stuff about vomiting," he said when I walked in the room this morning. "Apparently New Zealand is the vomit capital of the world") and exploring Second Life (he spent three days stuck on an island because his boat drifted away; lately he's been trying to set free the lions at the Coliseum in Roma).
My mom, who just retired last week, has her sights set on redesigning the garden. Her work colleagues gave her a generous donation towards a wooden garden bench (and a brass plaque to go on it) and a bird table that would support an ostrich.
Much of today has been spent eating, it seems: coffee and fresh fruit smoothies and pastries for breakfast; salmon and salad and homemade chocolate-chocolate-chip cake for lunch; and now (oh, happy day!) fish and chips, from the corner chippie, for dinner. With salt and vinegar and white bread and butter. One of the few foods that I occasionally have pregnancy-like cravings for.
It's good to be home.