The Houghs: Grandma and Papa John, Pt. I

Picking up tourists from the airport. . .

Welcome back, readers.

Thanksgiving is nearly upon us, and for we union-loving, baby-sitters, that means a week off of work.

I'm sort of looking forward to this.

Thankskilling. Check it out. It rules.

It also means serious horribleness is about to go down for the Houghs; it always seems to around Turkey Day. The Hough Family has always suffered from a terrible Thanksgiving Curse, dating back several hundred years when an ancestor of ours had an extramarital affair with a prominent turkey's wife.

I'm pretty sure how all that crap started.

Anyway, this year, we're sharing our time off with my folks - Grandma and Papa John - who flew in from Michigan on Saturday and are staying at Hough Manor until Thursday morning. They were eager to spend a laid-back week with their granddaughters, relaxing in great weather, etc. etc. . . but holy shit have we ever put these two to work over the last couple of days.

Check it out:

Alayna shows Pinky the Orlando International Airport as we wait in the nearby Cell Phone Lot for Mom and John to clear the baggage claim area . . .

. . . you will be seeing plenty of Pinky over the next couple posts. Alayna was selected to 'babysit' Pinky for her classroom this week. I guess each kid in her class gets a week-long turn at home with the soiled stuffed bear. (I desperately wanted to give this thing a bath in Clorox).

After picking up the grandparents, we bought some Chinese and ate out on the patio. . . (Papa John didn't get much eating done).

Papa John does floor exercises with Abby while Grandma and the Cannonball work on friendship bracelets. . .

Breaking in Papa John's knee. . .

At the end of Pinky's stay with us, we have to document his stay with us with pictures, notes, etc. (I've had to reel in the inappropriateness like crazy this week. . .)

Pre-coffee interrogations

Fancyin' up Papa John's feet

Primed for a neighborhood constitutional

Wackiness ensues in the Playhouse of Terror

The Cannonball has mastered the Vulcan Death Grip

Pickin' peppers

The fruit trees had been growing out of control long before we even moved in to the house, and while they were bearing more than enough fruit, they weren't growing the right way. Papa John was fortunately able to swoop in and prune the bejesus out of our fruit trees so that, in a year or two, they will be pumping out even more fruit and growing healthier.

See ya in Hell, conifer.

The Apple Tree meets its maker (. . .which I'm assuming is Johnny Appleseed, but I'm not a fruitologist.)

We also decided it was time to clear out the brush from behind the house, but every time I opened the door to weed-whack, mow, and raze back there, I was accosted by three pit bulls. Apparently the cool thing to do down here is own pit bulls. And apparently its really cool to let them roam about the neighborhood without a leash. Awesome.

Farewell, Pineapple Pear Tree. . .

Grandma stands lookout for ravenous pit bulls. . .

Trimming up the Orange Tree (unfortunately, we had to tear out the Pepper Bush growing underneath it)

They may not look it, but these oranges were ripe. Who knew.

Picking off fruits and peppers from discarded branches.

Tackling the root system from Hell with the trusty ol' pickaxe.

Kris was at this for about three hours.

Some of the salvaged peppers. They're spicy, but also have a sweetness to them. So far I've been using them a lot in eggs.

Consider this foe vanquished.

The Mandorin Tree. Pruned to shape.

Shaping up the Lemon Bush.

Not sure what type of fruit tree this was. But it's dead now.

I'll definitely have a lot more room to mow now.

Helping Grandma rake up the aftermath.

Besides laboring in the yard like a couple of field hands, we also employed my folks to help us with a few house projects. Having someone around that actually knows what they're doing when it comes to house construction definitely comes in handy.

The Living Room has become a war zone. Next up on the docket: the Bookcase (stay tuned)

Behold Monster Bush.

This was taken over a month ago, after I trimmed it for over an hour. This stupid bush fell over sideways, as the previous owner had bound the bottom of the bush with that white, plastic grating, forcing the branches to grow sideways. This increasingly unbalanced weight caused the bush to eventually break through the grate and crash down onto the ground.