Late Summer 2013

October 12, 2014

A catch-up.

The boys developed a love of washing windows, which I hope remains with them always.

A pool party, with dear friends.

To celebrate the end of summer we took the kids to Coney Island.

It was terribly hot …

and so much fun.

Sophie and Andy rode the ferris wheel …

while the boys had to watch (sometimes, being little is hard).

Of course, they managed to find rides suited to them, too.

Nini and Pop Pop joined us.

And still to this day we’re asked to go back, at least once a week.

We had tea parties with Colleen.

In September, Sophie tried out soccer.

We went to the Preble County Pork Festival, a family tradition, with lots of family.

The boys experimented with sharing sandals.

We went to Woodfill Elementary’s Big Top Festival.

And we took naps on the porch.

And in mid-October, it was still warm enough and green enough to climb trees.

“There shall be eternal summer in the grateful heart.” —Celia Thaxter

My dad was sick—we think it’s the first Pork Festival he’s missed since his dad helped create it. The kids walked away with homemade Barbie clothes and wooden trucks (thanks Aunt Ellen), as well as full bellies. Despite the missing family, it was a fun—and beautiful—day.

“Life is a festival only to the wise.” —Ralph Waldo Emerson

Mid-September Tradition

October 19, 2011

Sophie’s first Pork Festival doesn’t seem like that long ago. I was about to write about this being the boys’ first Pork Festival when I realized it wasn’t—it was their second. It was Colleen’s first. Time. I know it’s cliché, but it really does fly.

I write about the Pork Festival every year. It’s a part of me, a part of my family, it’s simply what we do—so imbedded that Katy, Tom and Colleen came just for the weekend for it (and we were all so happy they did).

I like, in life, having things I do outside of holidays that I do every single year. There’s reassurance in that. Expectedness. Another symbol of another year gone by. Memories. Tradition.

Colleen was so stylish, in her dark blue jeans, white onesie and knitted pink hat.

I miss her. So much.

Aunt Ellen with my dad

Uncle Mark playing cars with Owen and James. Four children grew up in this farmhouse, the house where my grandma still lives. I’m sure there have been many toy cars pushed along these hardwood floors.