Memorial Day Weekend Part 1

We had a wonderful Memorial Day weekend, I hope you did too!  We rushed off to travel to my father-in-laws house, and in our rush my husband forgot his Sunday pants and I forgot....uh....underwear.  How did I do that?  Don't worry, problem got solved, though I did learn a little more about some people than I wanted to know, as I got some colorful suggestions from some people that will make it hard for me to look at them the same way from now on.  And my son, he made the funniest comment.  It worked out.  No commando, sorry buddy.

My husband and father-in-law spent the first part of the weekend fixing our car, which took one and a half days instead of 4 hours like the manual said, but fixed nonetheless.  We enjoyed our time just being lazy while they were busy fixin' (a much needed break I tell you!), and we had to get creative on Sunday morning since we were all ready for church and no car!  No Sunday pants!  So we had our own wiggly little church, all dressed up in our Sunday clothes, in the upstairs bedroom of my father in laws farmhouse, deep organ bells replaced by bell-like windchimes, while a cool breeze billowed the white-curtained windows in and out.    It turned out to be quite nice.  And then we had a lazy rest of the day, sprawled out on the floor coloring or reading or playing games on worn checkered quilts that brought back the memory of my husband's mother-- her warm red cheeks, her welcoming hugs, her motherly ways.  I remembered how I fell in love with their place and their way of life, during our courtship, and how much I enjoyed being part of their family. (even if we bailed hay and castrated a bull on my first visit!  a bit of a shock for a city girl like me, but at heart I am really a country girl!)

On Monday we visited my hubby's mom's grave.  I'll fill you in about the rest some time this week!

 My only two children to have met their grandmother sat the longest at her grave.

 Wonder what Grandma thought of Guido.

 Or what Emerson thought of Grandma.

 I always try to get my kids to be respectful in a cemetery, and yet there is an inner playfulness that always seems to be bursting out.  I have often wondered if a graveyards recipients, if they are aware of what is going on, do not enjoy the happy, playful, energetic little souls and rather wish to hush the children's mothers!

 Forgive my headstone editing here (just to protect some privacy, I guess).  I just loved the sweet dandelion offering.