A perfect surprise...

So, yeah, there was no choir post last weekend.

Instead, there was a conspiracy.

My Dear Daddy had a significant 'ends-in-a zero' birthday, so my sister, who moved from Northern Indiana to upstate New York just before Christmas, flew in.  All four of my kids  rode with me (My Sweet Babboo had a statewide campout that weekend that he was somewhat responsible for, and Prince Charming was returning from a business trip too late to hitch a ride with us) and we drove up.  We got to the home place about half an hour after the New York contingent.

Dad, of course, had no idea we were coming.  My two brothers had just told him they were taking him to dinner, and his sisters and their hubbies joined us.  We all had dinner at an eatery in Thorntown, IN, that has some of the best onion rings you'll find anywhere.

Dad's not a birthday cake enthusiast; in fact, on a Facebook meme a few months ago I answered the question 'It's your dad's birthday!  What kind of cake will you make  him?' with 'Pecan pie!' I baked 3 pies and took them up, only to find that my mother had also baked some fruit cobblers, because, you know, Dad wanted pie for his birthday and she kinda had to make some because she couldn't tell him I was bringing pie...we ate pie all weekend...

The  next day, my niece, her hubby and 15 month-old, the only great-grandchild, flew in from Pennsylvania.  And, of course, Dad didn't expect that, either, although enough of us slipped up that if he'd  been paying strict attention he'd have known.  But that didn't really matter.  The baby was the icing on the cake. I don't think Dad stopped grinning all weekend.

And me...well, it's always something of a respite to walk around on the farm just a bit.  I breathe a bit deeper there...