Over the hills and through the woods.

A few weeks ago we all piled into our buggy and headed to the rural backwaters of Connecticut to visit Clara's grandparents. Actually, we got in our new Subaru Outback which still retains some of its undoubtedly mildly toxic newcarsmell, merged into the torrent of traffic headed down I-90, and visited my folks, who live in a suburb of Hartford, pop. 877,312. Either way, we still had to go over the hills and through the woods to get there.

Upon our arrival, Clara attempted to sate her tremendous hunger (such a long trip!) by munching on a mylar balloon.

Of course, Grandma's house is not the sort of place where little girls go to lounge around and eat bonbons. No, it was work, work, work.

Clara then decided that she had strong feelings about work, work, work.

She did condescend to clean out a bucket that needed to be carried all over the house, however. Naturally, Grandpa was designated as the recipient of whatever the previous bucket contents were.

As a reward for all of her work, she received five from Grandma.