We are back.  During the time we were gone, Vermont slipped into its fall clothes, David Foster Wallace passed away, and our economy weakened a little bit more.  Politics got uglier.  This is the world in which Holden lives.

Our time in West Virginia was good.  On our trip down south, Holden was absolutely perfect on the plane.  He mostly slept and ate.  The plane ride from Dulles to Parkersburg had only 4 passengers on it and was the most enjoyable flight I’d ever been on—we all got to talking and the time just flew by.  Once we got to WV, Holden was able to meet my Uncle Roy and Aunt Diane, who both absolutely adored him.  Over the weekend, my brother Adam, Adam’s girlfriend Tammy, and my dad, all finally got to meet Holden.

Here is Holden with Uncle Adam:

And with Granddad Chess, who later told me that meeting Holden was one of the highlights of his life:

 Holden had the pleasure of meeting the very friendly neighbors in my parent’s neighborhood.  We took Holden for many walks—around the neighborhood, by a golf course, through a local park.  At Roy and Diane’s, I was given expert advice about how to fashion rugged tomato cages using wire and electric fence posts, how to install insulation properly, and how to can sauerkraut.  I drank lots of coffee.  Conversely, Holden learned how to soothe himself to sleep.

Holden enjoyed a bath in the never-before-used utility sink:

And Grandma Chess gladly dried Holden off afterwards:

Here is my family, feeling proud of the new little guy in our lives:

On the return trip, we had to change planes again at Dulles.  There were two birds flying around Concourse C, which Holden found hilarious.  Once we got on the ground in Burlington, Rob greeted us at the baggage claim, and Holden squealed, kicked his little legs, and smiled at finally seeing his Papa again.  There was no doubt that Holden remembered who his Papa was.  The sort of unfettered glee that Rob’s presence inspired is enough to make your heart melt.