My parents just wrapped up a week-long visit to Bellingham and its environs. We drove the North Cascades Highway, hiked in the Chuckanuts, biked Lopez Island, ate oysters and salmon, visited Re-Bar and Butchart Gardens in Victoria, and otherwise indulged in the local summer pleasures.
What surprised me about their visit, though, was how their presence made Washington feel more like home; something about showing my parents around made me feel less like a long-term visitor here. "Lawrence" is no longer the first place name that comes to mind when someone asks where I live, and I hesitate a little less upon hearing that question.
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