This weekend we discovered that Lucy, the labradoodle puppy Vin and I forced on my parents in order to have a glorious and as it turned out, stressful, Christmas morn, is bred for absolute obedience in the fetching sticks department. While she bravely swam as far as necessary in the cool waters to retrieve whatever sticks or logs or what seemed to be small trees that had somehow washed up on shore we'd throw for her... Cecilia splashed around in the shallow waters, acting as though, you know, she could go out there to get the thing, she just...didn't want to right that minute... I caught one glimpse of the swan family, and attempted to wake my mother up who has been talking endlessly about the baby swans. She didn't respond to my urgent "MOM THE BABY SWANS!" calls at 7:45 a.m. so this picture will have to suffice... The Blancatos came up for Saturday night. Vinnie grilled and we all relaxed on the deck drinking beer and wine and that's when I started thinking maybe it would be best if I just didn't drive back the next day, because seriously, I could get into living there... especially thinking about Monday morning, after a weekend like this.