Dinner at the "Garden House"

Paraphrasing Samuel Johnson, "The noblest prospect a Latvian can behold is the road that leads him to dinner." Chilled and hungry, I hurry back down the road. Tonight, Ruta would be our hostess. When we arrived, Aris was busy at work with his (new) Lego set. (No, I haven't hit the sauce yet, it only looks that way!) I was sorry to hear his sister Liene was sick in bed. We eat our fill of kotletes, sort of the Latvian equivalent of Swedish meatballs, potatos, lots of gravy, fresh milk, and bread you could use as a boat anchor. After dinner, Laura and my mom spot me trying to catch them chatting, while poor Ciepa (the dog) keeps hoping for scraps from Laura, with no luck. After dessert, we put the table away and gather for a photo. (I didn't mean to be so conspicous, I just couldn't find another seat before the self-timer went off.)