This weekend, we made a visit to see Rachel’s parents in central New Jersey.  We had dinner at De Lorenzo’s Tomato Pies last night at the Robbinsville branch because, I am sad to report, the original Trenton location closed earlier this year.  The pizza at the new joint (run by some of the children of the owners of the original) is very good and still unique to this area (I’ve never had anything like it elsewhere) but it is not quite the same as it was at the old place.  I am glad to have experienced pizza in the Burg and happy that a reasonable facsimile is still available.

This morning, we took Rachel’s father out for breakfast in an early celebration of Father’s Day.  After touring his studio to see his recent works (he is an accomplished artist) and before leaving for the diner, we enjoyed a cup (or two) of coffee in the kitchen which, as in many homes, is the center of the household even though it is physically located far to one side of the main structure.  The room also seems to be the center for the local wildlife community, many denizens of which stop by for a visit during the day.

As we sat there, a house wren carried on an intermittent conversation with us as she made trips back and forth between the woods and the upstairs apartment of the birdhouse that hangs just outside one of the kitchen windows.  A few minutes later, two fawns—their backs still spotted—wobbled shyly into view.  They investigated the plants on offer in Rachel’s mother’s garden before racing off to report back to their mother (I’m sure they weren’t scared by those people walking their dog on the road).  They were undeniably cute.  We cherished that moment of amity knowing how quickly it might turn to enmity when they return to make lunch of the nasturtiums.

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