St. Patrick's day brought the usual overnight invasion of our property by a little green character. Mom claimed that nothing came up missing, but Dad couldn't find the chocolate that he had hidden after Halloween.
Here is a picture of two old people on their property. They are still upright most of the time.
JT sits among the daffadoils. There were 232 in bloom according to Mom, who counted each and then forced us to pose for these pictures. She kept saying something about "Flower Power." (We don't have a picture of Mom on the picket line, but she and some of her teacher friends went to the sidewalk in front of Walgreens last Wednesday night to protest the governor's plan to make the counties pay for teacher pensions. We didn't see it, but apparently Mom carried a sign in one hand and a Louisville slugger in the other. It seems that she has gotten onboard with the whole union tough guy thing. Power to the people! In response to Mom's activities, Dad has been walking around the house mumbling curses about draft dodgers and about the fact that the price of gas is over a dollar. He's also taken to humming Arlo Guthrie and Bob Dylan songs. 1960s here we come.)
P.S. Mom lost her voice on the picket line and now speaks in a croaky whisper, which reminds Dad of Janis Joplin.
