Skip to main content
We went out to eat at Rosie's (again, in Middlebury) after church with all the family left, and Steve Maxon thrown in for good measure. It was some good times, great fun.
The kids coloring. The service took a while, and my three went a little stir-crazy at the end.
Mom and Dad.
Miles hung out on the table for a bit.
It was all very country-chic.
The Tate crew.

Christine and Grace.


Driving back to the Lake. By Sunday we were very aware that our vacation had only a few days more, and we were feeling a little vacation desperation.

Comments

The Sauce said…
It's overwhelming to remember what I want to say about the above photos. Miles on the table may be the cutest thing I've ever seen. The notion of Steve "thrown in" anywhere made me laugh. In the photo where Job's looking up with kind of a bemused (semi-challenging/cocky...weird,huh) expression, I like to think if you look at the photo just below it (that's meant to be of Christine and Grace, and is sweet!), you see the other end of that visual transaction in Josh's expression. Just a thought. I got a few contacts from this lunch, but couldn't make it in time. And Janie and Steve are cute; it almost looks like he's coloring for her and she's encouraging him. Awesome photos! Good one of just Janie and Barry too! You're a professional caliber blogger, Miss Sarah...
vicTORIa said…
seeing all your pics makes me so very hungry for family... big loud family that take your children and give you love...
Sandy said…
I like Miles' faux-hawk. Very spiff.
sarah said…
That's no faux-hawk, my friend. That's the real deal, mohawk all the way.


And I feel your pain, tori.
abigail said…
I read your blog.

THE.
Whole.
THING.

But now John and the girls are here, and I have no time to leave nice comments, so I'll just say that I miss you even though I never see you and that your family is wonderful, and Miles!--not-so-new Miles-- is so handsome and fits perfectly into your brood of chickens and that I'm glad that even though California is a lifetime away from me, blogs are stuffed into every crack of the library internet connection.

Until next time!
XXXX's and OOOO's
(That's pronounced "ksksksks and ooooos," as in boos.)

(Not booze.)
sarah said…
I love Abigail!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



(and I hate country chic.)

Popular posts from this blog

Summer in Florida

This is our fourth summer in Florida- a number that amazes me.  I still don't feel at home here, although  I know my way around.  I don't feel completely out of place in the supermarket, but I have this suspicion that everyone knows I'm not from here, and they know that they don't know me.  That special kind of paranoia belongs to the homesick, and even while I acknowledge its foolishness, I still feel it.
Summers- I may have mentioned this before- are the worst. 
     It's partly an issue of comfort, or rather, of discomfort.  The long summer days are hot and sticky, the bugs are ravenous and abundant, the plants are vindictive with thorns and poison, and the air itself is attempting to decompose your body 37% faster than air in dryer climes.*  If there is a spring or pool to soak yourself in, it's fine, pleasant, even, because there are no ticks in the water, and you can usually avoid mosquitoes under the water.  To Florida's credit, there are any nu…

And he's gone.

The last week has been all craziness and preparation, poor schooling and frustration.  After a long decline, my Umpa passed away on Tuesday...this picture, above, was of him before we left for Florida, and in the last three years, he has lost the joy and comfort of being alive.  His death doesn't seem overwhelmingly sad in and of itself- he was 91 years old, in constant pain, and missing my Grandma all of the time.  To be removed from suffering makes death a kindness.
It's what his death means to my family that makes it sad.  This is our Patriarch- a man that presided over all aspects of our family with strong opinions and countless sayings.  His generosity was unbelievable.  He valued his family- he taught us all to value our family.
When my Grandma died five years ago, our cultural decline began- at her funeral, three separate cousins confided in me that Umpa was soon to follow- he felt this way, too, and longed for it, I think, although my Umpa was not a quitter, and if th…

Jack, who is 9, and Miles, who is 7.

This is Jack.  He loves zip-ties and drawing.  He has a best friend named Dan.  He will be 10 in less than a month.  His favorite food is "nutella crepes."  He wants to be an artist.  Or an actor.  He wants to do a lot of different things, all at once. 

 This is Miles.  He is 7- he will be eight in July.  He likes lots of things in general and not so much specifically.  He is a picky eater.  He wants to sleep like a burrito, and never make his bed.  He never has a problem finding a friend to play with on the playground- on any playground.  His best friend is Michael.

These boys seek each other out, and want to play with each other, but at any moment- ANY MOMENT- it might become a violent and loud fight.  What was play one second ago becomes a battle this second.  The worst punishment I can give them is to not let them play with each other.