sweet corn

Dad picked a nice weekend for a visit--Urbana celebrated the Sweet Corn festival. We saw lots of babies pushed in strollers by their parents. Jill took note that basically none of the babies were wailing, so she's optimistic for our near future.

Here she models with the 6-4 Impala. Feels good to be a gangsta'. Thinking of our nephew Ricky, I voted for the 1948 Hudson as best in show.

Fereshteh's car arrived today from Idaho on this truck. Dave the driver was a jolly sort of guy. He worked as an engineer for Micron for many years before getting outsourced. His brother, also a former engineer, convinced him to haul cars across the country. He works 26 weeks per year and makes double his engineering salary. Strange times, I say.

I squeezed into Fereshteh's car and drove it off the truck. It's like a roller coaster, impossible to see the tracks while going up or down. No damage was done to the car.

This afternoon, Clint and Beth, our neighbors a few houses to the north, stopped by unannounced with a home-made blackberry pie. We first took note of them because they along with their 2 daughters very often ride bikes laden with gear or books past our house. Not long ago, Clint said hello while I was working on a bike in the garage, but we had not officially met Beth. We followed Clint's recommendation to eat the pie with ice cream. Fantastic! Those are good neighbors.

No baby yet. Jill is having lots of mild contractions, so we're a little bit on pins and needles.