July 4th means one thing. Relatives and friends who live far away come to visit after attending someone else's wedding. My mother's sister's daughter, Laura, and her family visited. So we had a four generations picture taken at my folk's house. The youngest person, Sona, was nine months old. The oldest, my grandmother, was ninety-eight. Sona and Arthur got along well. Mark and I traded baby stories with Laura and Sameer.
After everyone left, I read "The Atlantic Magazine" to my grandmother. I think we both would have been happier with a "Better Homes and Gardens."
Mark's oldest sister (and Arthur's biological grandmother) Melora, arrived at our house the third. We'd seen her when we visited Suffern last May, but she was able to get only one day of vacation. This was a longer visit and we showed her around town. 
When Arthur was born, Melora (and Veronica) spent time with Jenn and Mark W's family. We know a lot of people named Mark. Mark H lives in Seattle. Another Mark H lives in Northfield. Mark even once went on a double-date with three other Marks. It can get confusing, and Mark W has graciously allowed himself to be named "Bubba." 
Bubba and Jenn are great; not only have they rescued Arthur from two flu-ridden dads, they let us blow things up in their driveway. Mark W used to say, "It's not a real fire until someone gets singed."
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