Archives for category: Memories

Keeping Cool

July 23, 2013 //

As I sit in glorious air conditioning, I had an image of the summers when I was a little girl. I looked it up and they weren’t nearly as hot as today, but hot enough. Glad they invented air conditioning before global warming!

Our first air conditioners were window units and we only had one to begin with. It was in our den, so we spent a lot of time there playing board games and card games in the summer. But sleeping was another matter. Houses were built for circulation and we had fans and attic fans, so we opened the windows at night and laid on top of the covers spread eagle, waiting for a breeze. Sometimes there was no breeze at all and it could get miserable. Or the fans made it too cold and you had to cover up eventually. I don’t remember anybody I know having allergies so we just breathed in whatever the air brought and were grateful for anything that cooled us off.

In the house where I grew up, at least until I was about 10, we had a screened-in porch right off of my bedroom. Sometimes we made our beds out there in the summer or we slept under the stars. Anything to keep cool.

We wore shortie pajamas in the summer and I can picture us sneaking outside to run in the dark yard at night, feeling the dewy grass between our toes, or playing cards on the bed.

I loved that house with its big side yard for playing softball or running through the sprinklers. I don’t see as many kids playing in sprinklers today, but there are great splash pads in the parks.

We also waited for Jack the Milkman to come by because he would chip ice for us to suck and sometimes let us ride in his truck for a block or so. The ice cream truck would come by with popcicles and ice cream bars for about a dime. We’d run to get our change when we heard the bell announcing his presence in the area.

We also traveled to Oklahoma City just about every weekend to see my grandparents and aunts, uncles, cousins there. We didn’t have air conditioning in our car or even the turnpike, so we drove old Route 66 with the windows down, arriving sticky at the least.

When I went to my grandmother’s house in southern Oklahoma, Ardmore to be exact, we couldn’t wait to get there in the summer. She would make “squares” for us, which were Kool-Aid (just the powder mixed with lots of sugar & water) poured into ice trays and frozen. I’m not going to explain ice trays. We would get a bowl of squares and sit on her front porch, swinging on her porch swing, sucking on our cherry or grape squares (my favorites). Here’s a picture of my mother as a teenager in front of the house with the porch swing.

It was hotter down south so we would walk to the ice plant and get chips of ice from them. Then we would try to catch the horned toads (or horny toads, as we called them) in the dusty yard.

Sometimes I feel like I grew up centuries ago with all the technology that has developed over my 67+ years. Hard to imagine how much has been invented in my lifetime and how much more comfortable our lives are.

But, sometimes, I’d like to swing on the porch swing with my bowl of squares and just enjoy the summer breeze, swinging as high as I could go.

Tags air conditioning, heat, ice truck, shortie pajamas, sprinklers, summer

Categories Family, Memories, Nature, Places, Reflections, Seasons

Behind the Camera

July 21, 2013 //

I take a lot of photos. I’d say too many but I don’t think you can take too many. We’re a far cry from the days when you took the picture and had to be careful you didn’t waste the film or the plate or whatever you were using. I love all photos, posed or candid, although I admit to loving the random moments we catch best.

I’ve got a lot of old family pictures, collected from my grandparents and my parents. I was looking at some of them recently and it crossed my mind that I wasn’t sure who took them. Who captured this special moment, what were they thinking? I can guess at some of them because of the setting. It opened up a whole new look at people I knew, gave them a new dimension to think of them behind the camera, catching this moment.

Here’s what I mean…

Who took these photos of my great grandfather and great grandmother? Who had a camera on that farm? Who wanted to capture him chopping wood or her feeding the chickens?

Who took this picture of my father? I know they hired professionals sometimes, but…

I’m guessing my grandfather took this one of his parents with his children. I never saw my grandfather with a camera, so this is a revelation.

This one of my great-grandmother with my mother and her brothers is a mystery. My grandfather had already died when this was taken, so who took it? I don’t think my grandmother had a camera then.

Did my grandmother or one of my uncles take this of my mother at her high school graduation? Who would she pose for?

I know my father took this one of me as a baby…

He must have taken this one too and it touches my heart that he captured this moment.

And I guess he took this one of his father with my brother and me…

My mother always said she didn’t like photos, but I bet she took this one…

I know how I feel behind a camera and I know what I’m looking for, the moments I’m trying to capture. I know when I get a picture that has caught a look we all know. Now I’m thinking of all the members of my family who went before me. The photos they took, the ones they kept teach me a lot. I feel even more of a connection with them through these photos. I hope I’m passing that down to my children and my grandchildren and that they can feel those same connections. There is something about looking through a lens…

Tags camera, family, memories, photography

Categories Memories, Photography, Restaurants

Two Little Clouds

July 19, 2013 //

My fascination with clouds goes all the way back to my childhood when my grandmother and my mother sang this song to me…

Two little clouds one summer’s day
Went flying through the sky.
They went so fast they bumped their heads, And both began to cry.
Old Father Sun looked out and said, “Oh, never mind my dears,
I’ll send my little fairy folk
To dry your falling tears.”
One fairy came in violet,
And one in indigo,
In blue, green, yellow, orange, red,– They made a pretty row.
They wiped the cloud tears all away, And then, from out the sky,
Upon a line the sunbeams made They hung their gowns to dry.

There was something so sweet about it or maybe it was the way they sang it. I can still hear them.

We didn’t have a lot to do in the summer in those days. We went to the swimming pool and I played golf from a young age, but there was a lot of time on our hands. We didn’t have air conditioning until I was in grade school…horrors! Actually, I wouldn’t trade air conditioning for much, so I’m not yearning for those good old days. We didn’t have television for a long time and, when we finally got it, it didn’t come on until late afternoon for the first few years. How old am I anyway?

We spent time in the yard and the neighborhood. We played workup with however many kids we could find and a softball and bat. We got stung by wasps and looked for earthworms, picked the flowers from the trumpet vine, sucked on honeysuckle and got into poison ivy. We looked for fossils in the gravel on the driveway since ours wasn’t paved yet. We looked for four leaf clovers and laid on blankets under the trees to stay cool. And we stared up at the sky, thinking and dreaming. What a luxury that time was and we didn’t even know it.

The clouds changed shapes as we watched them move across the sky. There were bears and dogs and monsters and angels. A canvas for our imaginations.

I took that fascination into my teens. Once, when I was about 16, I had a date with a guy who was a class leader…quite a deal to snag a date with him. I asked him about the clouds and he looked at me blankly. That was the end of whatever chance of infatuation there was with him. I couldn’t imagine being with someone who didn’t see anything in the clouds.

The first time I flew I was kind of disappointed with the inside of the clouds when I discovered they really are just fluffs of air. But then that became another fascination. How do they look so thick when there is so little to them.

Yesterday was a glorious summer cloud day, which we get when the heat comes in. They don’t show on radar, just popping up out of nowhere. Still fascinating.

You start with a cloudless day, a bright clear blue sky…

Suddenly you notice clouds exploding all around you…

They develop little wispy areas to soften the thickness…

And there is always the effect of the sunshine from beside them, around them, through them as the day goes on…

Obviously, I haven’t forgotten how to entertain myself outside. No matter where I see them, whether it’s in the city, out on the plains, up in the mountains, near lakes and oceans, or from the air, I always stop to watch. Clouds still make me smile, stir my imagination, and are just as mysterious and magical as I’ve known them to be since I was little. Heads up…don’t miss the great shows Nature sends us.

Tags clouds, imagination, sky, summer

Categories Memories, Nature, Reflections, Uncategorized

A Walk

July 18, 2013 //

Just got back from a morning walk and remembered this piece I wrote for no particular reason 10 years ago. So much has happened since then, but a lot hasn’t changed. You can read this while I cool off…

I took a walk tonight – a small journey. I have lived in this house, this neighborhood, for less than a year. I moved from my big family house of 27 years to my small house for me. It is a nice neighborhood with homes from the 1940’s, a neighborhood of four blocks with distinct boundaries. There are older people and young couples with small children – a good mix. Some of the homes look small from the street, but they have been remodeled and rooms have been added and they can be deceptive.
I have always liked to walk – it makes me stand up straighter, get my arms and legs in synch, and let my thoughts flow free. I wasn’t walking too fast – but fast enough. Other walkers said Hi – we do that here. I waved to a young couple & their children who are friends of my kids. I got into my rhythm and let my mind flow to other summers, other walks. This summer has been mild so far – the hot Oklahoma sun has not begun to beat down, withering everything in its path. The night was pleasant, everything is green and smells fresh. I loved the air against my face.
I used to walk through the old neighborhood with my husband. At one time, I was trying to get in shape and we walked every day for months – maybe close to a year. He was obsessive – like a personal trainer. We would walk four miles every morning and three miles every evening. Just leave the kids and walk. And talk. I have no idea what we talked about – but we talked and talked – trying to keep breathing while we moved. Neighbors said they could hear our voices traveling up to their second story bedrooms in the early morning and they would know it was just us. People who saw us walking laughed. He was 6’4” and I am about 5’5”. About every block, I would do a little quick run walk to catch up to his stride. He just walked and I jump stepped to keep up. At least he didn’t have me jogging beside him. I don’t know if a run of bad weather or kids’ activities or what made us stop. Some excuse.
Tonight I walked just before sunset. It was light enough to see but the lightning bugs were starting to blink, bringing back memories of childhood summers chasing each other around in the dark, filling jars with holes punched in the lids full of the wonderful bugs, hoping to catch their magic. The bugs were talking – I remember June bugs from summer. We would catch them and let them walk across our hands – tickling us with their feet.
I walked through another neighborhood, past homes that used to occupy my childhood friends. A feeling of stability and continuance – I have been here and am still here. I walked on a street where I used to walk with a friend in high school as he threw his paper route.
I walked to move my body, feel my heart pump, my lungs breathe and my thoughts flow. I walked to get away and to come home.

Tags memories, neighborhood, summer, walk

Categories Family, Memories, Reflections

Dressing Up

July 15, 2013 //

Casual is my style and always has been. My mother took great pains when I was growing up to make me look like a sweet little girl and a lovely young lady, but I was always for kicking off those dresses and getting into something more comfortable. But I do appreciate her efforts and I can dress up if I want to.

I was thinking about this when I was going out to dinner with my three grandsons the other night. They are 15-16 and really nice kids, dress like their age. One of them had on a tank top and the rest of us had on t-shirts, all in shorts and sandals of some kind. I may have been wearing a pair of TOM’s shoes since I love those. From old habit, I looked us over to see where we could go eat and then decided it didn’t really matter. We could go just about everywhere looking like we did. We could probably even go to church, although the tank top might have to be changed. But the tank top came from church camp, so whatever…

We’re a far cry from the way I grew up. Lifestyles have changed over the past decades to the place where just about anything goes. You may see an occasional sign at a restaurant that say you must have shoes and a shirt, but that’s about it. Jeans are acceptable everywhere except some country clubs and even they make exceptions all the time. After all, how do you differentiate between jeans you work in the yard in and your $100+ designer jeans and who is going to tell someone their jeans aren’t nice enough? I’ve even seen jeans in church at funerals and weddings, not to mention regular worship services. Ministers got to the point that they just wanted people in the pews and they weren’t going to quibble about what they were wearing.

Hats are another thing. My grandfather wore a hat always, but he removed it in the house or at dinner or church. Everyone, men, women, kids, wears ballcaps now and few remove them very often. Hat Head is the excuse. They still remove them for the National Anthem and in church. That’s about it. Sometimes in restaurants, very fancy ones!

At times in my life, we didn’t go out without little white gloves. I can remember having white white white cotton gloves, probably bleached clean by my mother, to wear when I went shopping downtown or to luncheons with my friends when we had dressy parties. As I got older, I advanced to kid leather gloves, even my favorite red ones to go with the white. All our mothers were trying to teach us social graces. I don’t remember when it ended but here’s a picture of me getting ready to be interviewed for a beauty (Hah!) contest at OSU when I was a sophomore in 1964. Note the white gloves! Very proper!

When I was little, we dressed up for luncheons and shopping downtown or plays or concerts or dinner in a nice restaurant. When I was in college, we dressed up for football games. Really. We wore skirts and sweaters to the games, no matter how cold it was. We wore skirts to class, too! On snowy days, we would put some slack under our skirts so we wouldn’t freeze walking across campus. Quite the fashion statement. Oh! We also wore hose, held up by girdles or garter belts, although my mother didn’t think those were very proper. I wore a girdle when I weighed barely 100 pounds and had no stomach. No wonder I laugh at Spanx today! Been there, done that and not doing it again. Ever!

The 60s started the changes. I can remember teaching at OSU when the mini skirts came in and realizing you could stand at the front of the classroom and look right up every girl’s skirt. As the skirts got shorter, the rules relaxed and you could wear pants and then jeans. Fashions changed rapidly through the 60s and 70s and we were the generation that lived it, even as we married and raised families.

We still dressed up to ride planes (heels and all), go to church, go to concerts, out to dinner. The gloves were gone, but you dressed up. The guys put on shirts, jackets and ties and the women wore hose and heels and skirts and makeup and had their hair done. There were social rules you had to follow after all.

I remember a date specifically that I began to realize that the casualness I loved was permeating maybe too far. On our 25th wedding anniversary, my husband took me out to a very nice restaurant. We ordered champagne and a lovely expensive dinner. We were dressed up nicely for this special occasion in our lives. When I noticed that the guy next to us was wearing jeans, nice jeans, with his tie and jacket, I thought to myself that there really was nowhere you could dress up for a special night out. He didn’t spoil our evening, but it was jarring in a place where everyone else was pretty spiffy that evening. And, remember how casual I am, so it’s interesting that those social dos and don’ts were so ingrained in me that I even noticed it, much less remember it all these years later.

There are practical reasons for everything, of course. It was expensive to have entire dressy outfits for our four children and I am amazed at the price of my huge grandsons’ shoes alone. They can’t afford to have very many styles since their feet seem to be endlessly growing. At least one of them is past a 13 adult size now which equates to expensive.

Another time, almost twenty years ago, some friends of mine met for lunch at a retirement home where one of us was working as a development officer. It was a lovely place and we dressed appropriately, but we didn’t match the lovely women who lived there and came to lunch dressed like the ladies they were. They had their makeup on and wore suits (jacket, blouse and skirt) and dresses and hose and maybe even girdles and carried their handbags on their arms like Queen Elizabeth. At the time, I remarked that our generation would probably come to lunch in sweat suits. Lordy!

So, here I sit in yoga shorts and a t-shirt, which I may wear all day no matter where I go. Or I may dress up, which implies I put on leggings and a nice top and nicer sandals. That garb would work where I live even if I had to go to a concert or church. Adding earrings and a necklace or scarf would really make it pretty impressive. All about the accessories. A guy probably would put on a nicer shirt and pressed shorts…maybe.

I don’t know that I am complaining about the changes…just making a mental note. I don’t want to forget how to dress up because there are a few times left that I might need to. After all the Queen might summon me. And I still have a box of gloves to wear…

Tags casual, dressing up, gloves, hats, restaurants, style

Categories Family, Friends, Memories, Reflections, Restaurants, Style, Uncategorized

Guide to Okemah & Woody Guthrie Festival

July 12, 2013 //

Last year I finally got to Okemah, OK, home of Woody Guthrie in his youth and site of the annual Woody Guthrie Festival. Last year was his 100th birthday celebration. It’s going on right now, this weekend, for his 101st! Somehow, I know he would like the way they do it up in Okemah!

Okemah would probably be lost without their native son, whom they didn’t talk about for years because of his controversial ties to the Communist Party. Time heals and history becomes more clear and now they’re so proud of Woody and his roots. Rightfully so.

When you get out of your car on the Main Street, you can find someplace with a map…at least during the festival you can. You’ll want to see the park with the statue of Woody, probably life size. He wasn’t very big.

During the festival there are concerts throughout the day at the old Crystal Theatre that has been restored. Not very cool, so bring a fan…

Last year I listened to Ronny Cox, movie star, musician, and watched him visit with fans as he sold his CDs on the hot street after he played.

The old Main Street was open for the visitors who came from all over, many fans of folk festivals who travel from one to the other. You can see concerts in the theater and in the bar a couple of blocks down…

Last year, I saw Carolyn Hester, one of my favorites from my 60s love of folk singers. She is a little less now, but there were traces of her beautiful voice and I was able to get a CD of the album that had been my favorite back in college. Way back…

There were lectures from experts on Woody Guthrie and time to visit with his sister, who was a delight and had just written a book. Everything was pretty down home and friendly.

Then I toured Okemah. The Main Street and a bar that hasn’t changed, screen door still swinging…

A mural proclaiming the town’s claim to fame these days…

Old houses tucked into the neighborhoods, showing days past…

And the site where they are raising money to rebuild the Guthrie’s original home…

The unique water towers are also a source of pride and a move is on to restore them…or at least not let them be destroyed…who else has Hot, Cold and Woody Guthrie towers?

In the evening, there are concerts in the Pastures of Plenty and RVs, campers, tents hold the faithful and the fans who wait for the cool of the night to listen to those glorious sounds. It’s a bit, a big one, of Americana that will surely touch your heart with its simplicity and its love for the messages Woody left us.

I headed home, stopping to watch a typical Oklahoma cloud forming on a hot July day, rising into the sky. This Land is Our Land.

I recommend you visit the festival, if not this year then some year, and then drive over to Tulsa to tour the Woody Guthrie Center and walk through the Guthrie Green. You’re sure to run across a musician or two or three, some young, some old, that will make you tap your feet and smile. I think Woody would like it all…

Tags Crystal Theater, events, festivals, folk music, music, Okemah Ok, Oklahoma, travel, Woody Guthrie, Woody Guthrie Center

Categories Art, Entertainment, Events, History, Memories, Music, Places, Reflections, Travel

Summer Bugs & Kiddos

July 8, 2013 //

Yesterday, I was in the swimming pool waiting for my granddaughter when a little boy floated by on an inner tube. I guess they’re not inner tubes anymore, are they? An inflatable ring? Anyway, a couple of bugs floated by and he was trying to get them away from him. They were June bugs. I picked them up and showed him that they weren’t going to hurt him and he got very curious, touching them and feeling the tiny stickers on their feet. I finally took them to the side of the pool.

I’m not much for bugs, but that brought a rush of memories of the days of summer when we went looking for June bugs, lightning bugs, Lady bugs. None of those were very threatening. We also listened for the Cicadias, calling them locusts, and collected their discarded shells along with those of the June bugs. There was something mysterious about the hollow brown bug-shaped shells. I don’t remember what we did with them other than collect a bunch of them. Maybe we crunched them…

We let the June bugs, lightning bugs and Lady bugs crawl on our hands, feeling their little steps go up our hands and arms before they spread their wings and flew away. That’s what we did in the old days for summer entertainment, back when your parents didn’t worry about what was going to happen to you outside and we walked and ran for hours, coming in only to get a cool drink of water. We sat in the grass, looking for four leaf clovers, threading the clover blossoms into chains that we wore around our necks. Today, they’re just weeds in the yard. I need to make a clover chain for my grandkids…would they just think that was weird?

Yesterday was also a milestone for one of my kiddos. My 3 1/2 year old granddaughter had taken swimming lessons last month and did ok, putting her head under, finally jumping off the side of the pool, doing a kind of water bug swim that was not much form and a lot of wiggling. Yesterday, it all broke loose and she turned into a water baby, the kind that can’t get enough. She leaped off the side and began trying to swim, trying to coordinate her arms and legs, a spontaneous burst of all those lessons. Within an hour, she was pushing herself from the bottom to swim, swimming under our legs (with a push to get her down far enough), and actually doing it so naturally you would have thought she always had. The best part was the absolute look of glee on her face as she jumped and as she came up out of the water…every time. I could see the summer fun ahead of her for the rest of her life. She had turned from a little one into a kid right in front of us. She found some goggles with one lens missing and the other one loose and a snorkel and she splashed off, taking another step into childhood.

Summertime memories are full of sunshine and bugs and swimming children…at least some of the best ones are.

Tags bugs, summer, swimming

Categories Family, Memories, Reflections

The Fireworks of Summer

July 4, 2013 //

There’s a plate that hangs in my kitchen that I have there for the sentiment…

I DO love the fireworks of summer. They bring back summers past when I watched fireworks displays with my family growing up, shooting off sparklers and bottle rockets, back when we shot off lots of dangerous, exploding things, watching big displays from blankets in the dark.

When I lift my face to the sky to wait for each burst of color and light, I go back to the days of my own young family, watching them with their own sparklers, running and playing as they waited for dark and the sounds of the fireworks in the night.

Our driveway was stained with the marks of snakes and exploding toys and sparklers laid down to burn out. There was such a thrill in watching each piece being lit, anticipating what burst or fizzle it would bring.

It’s all magic. I love the sounds of patriotic music playing at the ballpark as they launch their display. I love the family activities leading up to the fireworks show, all the noise of excited children. I love watching family and friends, dressed in red, white and blue, gather on their blankets or chairs to wait together, all the craziness of anticipation quieting down for the first big boom. I remember the days when I leaned against my husband to watch the sky or cuddled a child and smiled at the wonder in his or her face, lighted by the bursts before us, the lights sparkling in bright eyes. I love the parents carrying sleepy children to cars and home to cozy beds at the end of the evening.

The fireworks of summer burn memories into our hearts that are brought forward with each spark the next year.

Be safe and enjoy your own fireworks of summer!

Tags 4th of July, children, displays, fireworks, memories, sparklers

Categories Events, Family, Holidays, Memories, Reflections

Jumping for Joy

July 2, 2013 //

So many summers I’ve spent watching kids in swimming pools, reacting or not reacting to the calls of “Mommy, watch this…” over and over. There’s such a peacefulness about baking in the sun or standing in the water watching kids bounce and splash. It’s one time when the noise of happy play is part of the atmosphere around you.

My youngest grandchild has learned to jump off the side of the pool, laughing at the thrill of it all. How many more jumps will I watch her make? The diving board is next. All eight are now leaping into water with the impetuousness of youth. Ages 3 to 16 splash with equal delight.

Today, I was going through pictures and found photos of my own children, frozen in a moment of pure joy.

My oldest at 9, leaping with complete abandon…

My middle girl on her 7th birthday, trying a twisting move in the air…

My youngest daughter at 4, flying like the big kids…

My son at 5 1/2, jumping with all the enthusiasm for life he always had…

And, I remember that I jumped with such joy when I was young. I can feel the air underneath me now before I hit the water. Watching my next generations takes me back and moves me forward. May we always remember that incredible feeling of flying with nothing to fear and only joy in our hearts. Happy summer memories…

Tags joy, jump, memories, swimming pool

Categories Family, Memories, Restaurants

Cousins

June 23, 2013 //

A friend of mine always marvels at his cousins, saying they share 1/2 of his DNA. He’s right, of course. The connection is unique and interesting, especially when you start getting into your first cousin-once removed, second cousins, etc. The hilarious HBO show, Family Tree, is about a man searching for his relatives and finding all kinds of off the wall characters.

In my life, which is the only one I can speak of with any iota of experience, cousins have played many different roles. I had eight cousins on my father’s side and three on my mother’s side. I was the middle cousin and the oldest cousin. None of mine lived where I live, but I saw several of them a lot, spent time with them growing up. Looking back, one cousin and I seemed to always be off on an adventure, sharing secrets that we hope nobody found out about. Once we snuck into my parents’ bathroom & took stuff out of the medicine cabinet, combining things into what we called “mixtures.” We kept a notebook of the different combinations. This included everything from medicines to creams to whatever was in there. Yikes! I don’t think my parents found out…ever. Once we got on a bus and rode it to wherever it went. My aunt had to come get us when we got off and had to ask someone to use their phone. A much more innocent time, obviously! Her life went in some tragic directions…she kept on making crazy and hurtful choices. I keep in touch with several of my cousins, even with the different places our lives have taken us. They are special links to people and places in my history.

My own children had five cousins, four on my side, two on their fathers. Three of the cousins lived a block away growing up, went to school with them, played with them. They were close in age to two of my own so they have secret memories that I find out about when they are laughing about something they did way back then. My mother kept getting the award for the grandparent with the most grandchildren at the school (7), which made her laugh. She said it was an award for having prolific daughters!

My grandchildren are a unique bunch. They were born in bunches, it seems, and all live in the same town, going to the same school, playing sports together. I’m speaking of the older seven, who range in age from 11-16. The youngest, at 3 1/2, is on her own but finds them all pretty exciting. She has her own special place in all their lives, the living reminder of her father, their uncle, who died very young. She bonds with each of them differently. I love her with her 13 year old cousin who looks like he is her older brother…

If our family has been given a gift, it’s these cousins. All are close to their own siblings as well as the extended family. In fact, sometimes you can’t tell which one belongs with which family. For me, it’s watching the genetic pool at its most frenzied. Some of the children seem to have sprung from one of their aunts or uncle, some look more like a cousin than their own sibling. When you have them all together, you have to marvel at the connections and see how closely we are joined by the DNA. And you have to acknowledge the incredible individuality of each of them. There are different personalities, different approaches to life, and amazing affection for each other.

Here the oldest three…eight months between the oldest and youngest of them…two in the same class at school…

Here are the next two, eight months apart, who play basketball together, are in the same class…

And the younger two, boy and girl, three weeks apart in age, who we thought shared the same brain when younger…

What will their futures bring? I’m sure they’ll go in different directions and be as individual as they are now. They’ll have spouses and children and do different things. The comforting thing is that they have had the unique and wonderful experience of having a larger pool of relatives to share their youth and their experiences. I’m sure they have more secrets than we can even imagine.

I hope that they take all of this with them, in their hearts…and that it makes them even better people than I think they will be. Great kids…all of them. Grandmothers do get to beam with pride, yes we do!

Tags cousins, family, memories

Categories Family, Memories, Reflections

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