Just a few more.

Have you ever gone on vacation or visited someone, come home, unpacked, done the requisite 18 loads of laundry, but still feel like you never left? Your head is still back there, stuck in that visited place days or weeks after the rest of you called it quits. I've been back from visiting the homestead for well over two weeks, but here I sit, still perusing the pictures I took, yapping incessantly about this mundane detail or that. I don't know what's come over me. I'm not worried mind you, it will pass soon enough. But you? You, my lovelies are now going to have to slog through one last post involving the trip home. The worst kind of torture, the blog equivalent of a vacation slide show. Muwahahahahaha (queue menacing music).

Actually, it's not all that bad. No really, I promise, just a few pictures I took walking around the yard. Like this one. This little fellow is a baby osprey (he's not really that little, nor do I know if he is actually a fellow, but just run with it), his parentals were busy all week trying to teach him to fish for himself.

He was not happy about the prospects of self sufficiency, you could hear him crying from his perch most of the day. Much like I was when my parents cut the financial apron strings. "What do you mean you're not going to pay for my fifth year of college? So what if I'm still a sophomore."

Moving on. Here's one I surreptitiously shot of my brother and his "mini-me". The Niblit may have blond hair ,and eyes like his mother; but this whirling dervish,from his endless energy and mischievous curiosity, down to his infectious cookie monster laugh, is my brother all over again.

Hang in there guys, you're half way through.

Here's a shot of the dock my dad had built, and the boat lift he insisted on installing for the boat he swore he was getting ten years ago. Where's the boat you ask? Good question. I think the money the Old Man of the Sea would have to shell out for a boat has left him on dry ground. Of course, now that the Niblit has visited and talked about his other grandpa's boat, my father has finally started shopping around for his own. Ahh the joys of grandparental one-upmanship.

More importantly, however, is what comes from out at the end of the dock (boat-shmoat). One of the all time best perks to coming home in the warmer months are these; what I like to call Tidewater comfort food.

Blue Crabs; the quintessential "session food". My brother pulled the pots that evening, cleaned all the gross stuff out of the crabs before he boiled them in water, a little beer, a little Malt Vinegar, and a lot of Old Bay. From river to table in less than an hour. It does not get any better that this. We sat for hours picking crab, drinking beer, and talking. It's better than General Foods International Coffee for celebrating the moments of your life!

There! You made it! The blurb at the end of the post. The final phrase that tells you there are no more boring vacation pictures to wade through. We are now moving on. Give yourselves a pat on the back, you deserve it.

Yay! That's the end!