The house smells funny

Most of you know my parents are in London until the end of June. My dad is the director of BYU's London Study Abroad for the next two terms.

Taking care of things before they left was a big ordeal. Getting a house sitter was something they thought about for the past year, but ultimately they decided it would be strange having someone live there with all their stuff. So instead, their three children are taking turns with the house. My dad asked that we don't bother him with mundane things such as "the house smells funny" but asks that we do tell him if it burned down.

Taking care of things now that they have left is a bit of an ordeal as well. There are various instructions we have. Some more detailed than others (like watering the plants, geez. 1 cup here, 3/4 cup there, one pineapple pitcher full -- still not sure what the pineapple pitcher is). We are supposed to sort the mail into three piles: junk mail, Durham mail and Utah Chamber Artists mail. We were asked to flush the toilets every now and then and take the cars for a spin. And I am teaching 3 of Mom's piano students in her place.

My brother, sister and I have been communicating via phone and email about when we have or plan on stopping by, but mostly we've been leaving notes on the fridge about which tasks were taken care of and when. A couple weeks ago my sister told me the house smells funny. "You know how our bedrooms smell now because no one has been living in them?" she said, "I think that's it. No one's there, no one's cooking anything."

The other day I got a message from my brother saying when he stopped by the house my parents bathroom light was on and the fan was on. He said he hoped it was me or Lisa. It was neither of us. We thought that was pretty strange. And then yesterday I went to the house to teach my mom's piano students and someone was already there. It was my mom's friend Barb who was asked to pick up UCA mail. She was there with her two boys. And she mentioned how she'll come to hang out and her boys just wander around the house and last time she found her oldest upstairs in my parents bathroom at which point, Lisa and I looked at each other, engaging in a quick telepathic pow wow. That explains more than one thing.

Although, what it doesn't explain is what I found in the microwave. I opened it to heat up a piece of quiche and found this:


It took me several seconds (and Lisa's memory) to figure out what it was. Ever wonder what carrots and parsnips look like after sitting out for four weeks? Now you don't have to. Lisa says she remembers Mom putting that in the microwave the night before they left when we were all over for dinner. I guess she forgot to take it out. Gross. I took care of it. I'm hoping that's what the smell was. But I doubt it.

Some of you may have already seen the blog I started for my mom and dad while they're away. It's linked under "family" in the sidebar. It's purpose is to keep family and friends updated on what they're up to since they ask us a lot. Mom and Dad don't blog, so Lisa and I take care of the posting for them. In fact, I hadn't heard from them for awhile so I considered putting this post on their blog, but then decided I should keep it about them and England and not about us, without them, in Salt Lake.

So Mom, Dad...if you're reading this, everything is OK on the homefront. The house is intact (albeit smelly) and despite the light being left on that one time, the rancid food in the microwave, and the power tools left all over the house by that guy who's working on the yard, things are under control, and we're there frequently.