Dad heads home (again)

I dropped Dad off at Seatac at 5.45am in a gentle misting rain which blurred the headlights and brought all remaining [1] the snails out onto the garden path. He was very eager to be on time and fairly bounded from the car and into the terminal with a quick farewell. He is adamant that he is not going to apply for any compensation for his extra days without luggage but is hoping to put in a lost luggage form at some point in his travels today.

I had a restless night full of strange dreams and being too hot (with a blanket) then too cold (without one). Today, I will open all the windows and let the cool rainy air come visit. It will mean the first day in three weeks that we have had rain - an almost-record in June for Seattle - and our seedlings of basil, lettuce and spinach will enjoy the weather (although the snails must be vanquished).

I hope Dad makes his flight today although we have had a lovely few (extra) days. Dad went to Wild Ginger with Josh and I for lunch yesterday. We also went to the Seattle Asian Art Museum. Dad loves chinese landscape paintings and those ink brush paintings and has even inspired me about them. If my house was not so kid focused I should redesign with a quiet minimalism and then clutter it with spacious chinese brush prints and warm fuzzy blankets. Least that fits with the rain today.

Footnote on helix aspersa (garden snail) [1]
Dad and Wren gave me a great treat yesterday morning allowing me to sleep in on Wren's bed while they went and did some reading and then gardening. When they went outside they found that my newly emerging dahlias had been eaten to the ground AGAIN. Dad showed Wren how to shake the bushes and find snails that fall down (dozens). Unlike our previous strategy of popping them in the yard waste,relocating them into the ivy or just throwing around some sluggo - Dad showed Wren how to take Direct Action and stomp on them. He said that Wren took to this well and stomped about 80 snails. Uh oh. I explained our family policy of non-violence and Dad said we were "too buddhist" to deal with them and we could try salt.

Now salt brings back bad memories and I don't like the idea of leaching the liquid out of living moluscs so I have some sympathy for the stomping. As a child I was paid a cent for a certain number of snails and granny used to put them in a big empty coffee tin and pour salt on them. I didn't like seeing them froth but I collected them anyway.

Dad says Wren was very enthusiastic about stomping and said things like "BAD SNAILS NO EAT MUMMYS PLANTS. NO NO. BAD SNAIL!" Dad commented to him that there was no need to try and correct the snail's behaviour when they were going to stomp on them. No need to be cross with them. But Wren said "LET GO THE PLANTS. DON'T EAT THE PLANTS" and enjoyed the righteous indignation.