Friday, July 3

We got up early and took Access paratransit to the airport. Hurry up and wait. We were so concerned about getting to the airport on time that we ended up getting there with about two hours to spare. We just about spent more time at the airport than on the plane - Los Angeles to Arcata is a short flight.

The Arcata airport, by the way, is not in Arcata, but in McKinleyville, a small town just north of Arcata. Katherine (my sister) points out that on the other hand, the statue of McKinley - after whom McKinleyville is named - is in the Arcata town square, so everything evens out.

Katherine and Slate met us at the airport. The first thing I noticed was that Slate's hair is now much shorter than the last time I'd seen him. I mentioned this, and he told me, with a straight face, that the lawnmower got out of control. Gonna have to keep an eye on that kid...

I think this picture says it all. Check out what his shirt says...

picture of Slate with a T shirt reading I'm five what's your excuse

So we got to Katherine and Richard's house...

picture of Katherine and Richard's house

...where Slate proceeded to give me the grand tour of their back yard. They have a large yard - about half an acre. Planted with potatoes, radishes, cabbage, various herbs, raspberries, blackberries, elderberries, blueberries, huckleberries, strawberries, apple trees, plum trees, pear trees, and probably a few other things that I'm overlooking.

five pictures of the back yard

They also have some ducks...

two pictures of ducks

...and chickens...

two pictures of chickens

Slate and friend

...who live in a chicken coop in the back yard...

...and, of course, lay lots of eggs, some of which we had for breakfast the next morning. This may be the first time in my life that I've ever eaten eggs which had come out of the chicken the day before.

That chicken coop is the first story of a two-story structure...

...the upper story of which is Slate's playhouse. Well, of course, Slate wanted to show me his playhouse. So up the ladder we went. STRAIGHT up. Straight up a narrow ladder built for a five-year-old. Now, those of you who've read my previous trip logs may remember that I've commented on my fear of heights. So I wasn't too thrilled about climbing up that ladder. But I survived the ordeal. The things we do for our children...

Well, there's not a whole lot to tell about the rest of the day. We had lunch. We visited. My parents showed up later that afternoon, and we all visited. And we had dinner, and visited some more. Terry and I took a walk around the neighborhood after dinner. Mom and Dad went back to their motel, Slate and Richard went to bed, and Katherine and Terry and I sat up and talked. A pleasant, relaxing afternoon and evening.

In no particular order, here are some more pictures:

The kitchen

The neighborhood

Madonna and Child

Biker Slate

Slate's Watch

Okay, I guess that last picture needs a little explanation. Slate spent some time that afternoon working on a project - making a "watch" out of carboard and scotch tape. And of course, he had to show it off.

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