Thanks for the check ins, everyone.
It was a busy time.
My daughter, my son and his wife and children came home. There were two gatherings at the new house. We are not 100% moved in yet, but we had a place for everyone to sit and a place for everyone to sleep, and that was enough.
The first gathering was held at my sister's across the road, a bon fire. The girls got a ride on Libby, and were tickled pink to feed the gentle old horse treats when the ride was over. We sat around the fire and visited, and it was a quiet, fun evening.
The next day, the gathering was at our house and that was nice too. Our new house has memories already.
Monday, William and I rode back with them. It was a full van and a fun trip. On Tuesday, we went to Knoebel's, which was fun. The thrillseekers did the rollercoasters and those sudden drop rides. I, myself, rode the merry go round and the planes with the three year old. It was enough.
We spent all day there. It gave my knee a good test and it held up beautifully.
Wednesday was the great birthday trial run. The girl's birthdays are very close, so the celebrations are combined. The theme this year is 'tie dye'. The kids are going to tie dye shirts. The homemade cake even had a tie dye theme which was very impressive. Three children with three adults to supervise and assist if necessary. We were using the dip method. My son and daughter-in-law decided that was way too messy. Even worse, dye stained hands were being wiped on the clothes they were wearing. The idea of staying on top of 15 kids would be way too crazy. The activity was fine tuned. The color selection was minimized and spray bottles will be used. The cake required no tweaks at all, being impressive to look at and tasting perfect too. William and his uncle fired up the smoker and made bbq'ed ribs and potato salad.
Thursday, we were all ocean bound to a dog beach. This did not happen. Tucker, aka the Golden Land Shark (personally, I call him the Incredible Gulp) gobbled down a washcloth, requiring someone to sit up with him all night. That puppy will be a fine dog if they can get him past the puppy stage.
We spent the day hiking at a local park. Tucker got a chance to paddle around in the water, but it was freshwater. That evening was spent in an authentic Mexican restaurant. I had Poblanos Guadalajara and they were excellent.
Friday was the day that my kids headed off to a child free wedding in Virginia. The wedding was being held at old inn, very grand.
The kids and I had fun. We did a craft. We did puppets. We made dad's favorite cookies. We kept the dog from gobbling down socks,wash cloths and barbie shoes, which was a never ending chore, but one we were ultimately successful at. I did not dare to walk two girls and one large exuberant puppy, so poor Tucker had extra energy that could not be run off in the back yard, as large as that is.
Everyone returned Saturday. William was packed up and ready to head out to Michigan with his other grandparents. I think he is spending the week in Manistee.
The youngest was sick Sunday, and boy, grandma dodged a bullet on that. Only her mama would do. It was a quiet day at home and no one minded at all. I made pepperoni rolls for supper, a childhood favorite. The oldest granddaughter was intrigued to discover she was a 4th generation pepperoni roll fan.
Monday was spent at an amazing playground.
Grandpa Tim rolled in Monday night.
My last full day was Tuesday. We went to an animal park.
All good things must come to an end. Wednesday about lunch time, grandpa and i headed out.
I came home to an amazing sight:




Some of you may remember reading about
This is Uncle Herman's cane. He wants to make sure that you all understand that this is not sassafras, but hickory. So if you are inclined to make your own cane, he guesses you'd want to tie a knot in a hickory sapling. Then you patiently wait three years, and then go out there and cut it down. Varnish it up and put a rubber tip on it, and there you go. You got yourself a dandy walking stick. It is also good for emphasizing a point when you are talking.
Anyways, this is a brick oven that Uncle Herman and Uncle Harold made years upon years upon years ago. Uncle Harold passed on, oh, probably, 8 years ago now (Edit: remember this was originally put up about 2005 or so, which means that uncle Harold has been gone nearly 30 years now). Well, Tim and I got up early, and were on the road at 7 AM, because we had to pick up Uncle Herman at 9, sharp. We were driving him out to Uncle Harold's. Tim and he had the mighty responsibility of getting the brick oven fired up. Well. Uncle Herman had the responsibility, Tim being a mere peon in the operation.
The fire is started. Once the oven heats up to 425 or 450 or so, once the bricks are good and hot, you reach in there and drag out all the fire.
Then you begin to fill it with all the different kinds of bread.
Keep on keeping on, Mike and Dave. There's about 40 loaves of bread there, two firings worth.
Uncle Herman has to keep an eye on the young wet-behind-the ears-whipper snappers. A very close eye.
While we wait for the bread to bake, people socialize. Here are two of the matriarchs of this mighty gathering. Anna is on the left. She is Herman's wife. Aunt Mary Jane is the widow of Uncle Harold. She's in a nursing home now, but was able to come back home to her farm to spend the day with her family.
This is the view behind the bread oven.
Now, while Uncle Herman might well be the undisputed master of the brick oven, everyone knows that Aunt Anna is the undisputed judge of when the bread is done. That's her in the foreground cutting into a 'test' loaf. The hand on her back is pretending to be supportive, but he's actually sticking real close to be the taste tester. The greedy critter just wants the first bite. Don't you think the woman carefully documenting this day should be the taste tester? Excuse me while I put down my camera and go straighten this deluded character out.
Little toes wiggle in delight.
Finally, Anna gives the official, unchallengeable word. 'The bread is ready to come out of the oven.' The crowds roared.



