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Your Brain, Our Photos

8 Aug

I’m planning/researching a fantastic Grab Bag Special for you, but the photo is too wonderful to sit idly by on my hard drive until I get my act together.  Therefore, you get a sneak peak.

Not so fast!  There’s a catch.  In order to see this unbelievable snapshot of family history you have to give us something*.

A Caption.

A wonderful, apt, clever, witty, spunky caption.  Or, something boring.  That’s fine, too.

Here’s what you need to know about the picture:  the woman in the middle is my mother.  That’s it.  Go!  Be clever!  Submit!  Multiple entries welcome!

Special Note to Our Mother:  Mom, you may compete.  In fact, you should.  And, if you are inclined, you could even look up the “source documents” for us.

Alright, everybody ready now?  Do you have your Caption Caps on?  Here it is:

Your Best Caption Here

*If you’ve gotten this far you’ve probably already seen the picture.  So, get to writing.  Okay, we admit we’ve got no power.  You’re on the honor system.  But I will say this:  Please.

I grabbed Rachel.

30 Jul

Remember the cool grab-bag special game that my sister started? Well, I grabbed. This is what I got:

I think that's my mom's handwriting on that cake....

Who is that smooshy-gooshy adorable blob of baby? Well, friends, that is our long lost sister, Rachel. I intend to answer 2 questions in this post:  #1. Is she really lost? and #2. Is she really our sister?

First I will deal with question #2 (I’m almost always backwards…) by answering some other questions. Is Rachel biologically part of our family? No. Was she raised by our parents? No. Did she live under our roof? No. I know, I know. It’s sounding less and less like we can claim her sister-ship. Bear with me. She DOES have a sisterly title. We call her our “schwester”. No, she’s not German, either. She’s a child of the Sandhills, just as us. (There’s a connection, right?) We just coined that term while traversing Germanic countries with her. Look below. That’s us in Austria. They speak German there. Seriously.

10 points to the person who can name the movie we are portraying in this scene. GO.

We grew up with Rachel. No, not in the same house, but we LOVE that girl (and she puts up with us rather politely). We’ve vacationed with her, played with her, babysat her, taught her things (I think…), commiserated with her, hugged her, joked with her, dried her tears (at least we tried), advised her (not advisable), cheered for her, and watched her turn into someone really really awesome. Which takes me directly to question #2.

Rachel’s been lost for awhile. First that darling decided to up and leave the Midwest for seemingly greener (ivy green) pastures on the East coast. Stupid Harvard. After that whole thing was done she eeked a bit closer to us (and much closer to my sister and her schwester) by attending law school at Notre Dame.

We celebrated her Juris Doctorate with Touchdown Jesus.

At this point our dear Rachel was still lost. So lost that she wandered again to the East coast to take some giant test about Virginia’s bars. She liked what she had learned so much that she (and her two kitties) settled in for awhile. I thought we’d never again find her amongst all the culture and clamor of the DC area.

Here’s where it gets exciting. Really really exciting. I FOUND HER!!!!!!!! WHERE!??!?? Sitting unassumingly in the back pew of our beloved church this morning. (Can you think of a better place?) She’s back, friends. Here to stay? Well, we sure hope so.

Summer Olympics

30 Jun

It’s been really hot. Summer just jumped out from behind a bush and slapped us. Very rude. I will spare you my complaints about heat induced lethargy, unavoidable sweat pools, and seatbelt burns. Instead, I will focus on the beauty of the intense heat. What? Yep. Beauty. Beauty that I found in watching my two eldest boys frolic like maniacs in the sprinkler. Isn’t it astounding how just a bit of cool water, fresh air, and perceived unsupervision can launch two imaginations into a dervish of creative activity? My boys were the winners of new Olympic events (water relays, sprinkler head stands, and some sort of spinning/running/somersaulting aquatic avoidance dance). They laughed and ran and cheered one another on and lost all trace of any reality based moping. This got me reminiscing. Ah, yes. I’m nothing if not sentimental. You all saw that when I tossed my wedding cake in the weekly trash. It’s difficult to zone in on specific memories of summer playtime because my bitsy brain is flooded with them: rainstorm dancing, ditch swimming, mud puddle racing, Quonset tanning, cow tank swimming, sprinkler pageant-ing. There are so many. I’ve set my mom on a mission to unearth some of the photos of these beautiful events. Alas, the fear of wasting one of those precious 24 allotted photo slots in a film canister has left us with a limited supply of photographic documentation. Be prepared. As the summer continues it is my hope to regale you with details of summer on a farm with my sister. For now, enjoy a picture of the final round of Sprinkler Head Stands:

For those of you who know how much Joe stands on his head you will be shocked to find out that Owen won this particular event - or so the photo conveys.....