While moving boxes in, we spotted the box for the television set. The TV that we'd agreed to bring with us and give to my mother. The TV that we'd left in the apartment. Whoops. Oh, well, the way we'd packed, there would not have been room for it anyway, and this way we could take the box for it back with us and package the thing up properly for the next time I drive up to Sutter, probably in February or so.
Then it was out to my grandfather's house, where my mother was making pheasant soup. Yes, pheasant. One of my cousins had shot some pheasants and gave my grandfather a couple of them, and mom made an excellent soup from them. It was particularly good for eating on a wet, windy day like today. I went back for more, several times, as my mother and grandfather talked in the kitchen. (Cheryl and my stepfather were in the living room.) As Mom cleaned up, I handed her my empty bowl, and she said, "Are you sure you don't want more?"
"Mom, I ate four bowls! It was wonderful, but I'm quite full, and thank you!"
This gives me an opportunity to post a picture of the three of us -- my grandfather, me, and my mother -- that Lisa took over Thanksgiving in my grandfather's back yard.
No, I am not standing on a box. I really am that much taller than they are -- I get the height from my father's side of the family.
We gave my mother her Christmas present, but encouraged her to open it now -- a gift basket of interesting foods we reckoned she would like.
After socializing for a couple of hours, we made our farewells and headed back to the Bay Area, crossing our fingers that we wouldn't be stuck in miles of go-home traffic as has seemed to have been the case so often.