Best Day Ever

These dirty little scalawags are four of our thirteen grandchildren. They are John and Jesus and Amy's children. If you're confused already, you don't read this blog enough. Or maybe you do because there tends to be a lot of confusion in these musings of mine but we shall carry on. 

Gracie, Nolan, Hannah and Cavan. That's their cousin Wilbur in the background.

This picture always makes me smile for so many reasons. It was one of the best days ever for me. Nothing exciting or spectacular happened really. Unless you think spending time together on the farm with the animals, getting filthy dirty playing outside, having a picnic, gathering eggs and making s'mores around a bonfire is exciting and spectacular. I happen to think all those things are just that. 

We share eleven acres with John and Amy, with two houses on the property. They have since moved to Rhode Island and selfishly insisted on taking the kids with them. The day in the photo happened when they still lived on the farm. Sometimes, we would get lucky and "the parents" as we call them, would go away for a few days and leave us old people in charge. Hey, nobody ever said "the parents" used good judgement but the old people were always happy when they exited the property. Because, as all good grandparents know and understand, there is an unspoken code once "the parents" are gone. What happens at the old peoples house, stays at the old peoples house. Unless somebody squeals. 

Unfortunately, the first thing that happened at the old peoples house was Gracie cutting her bangs. Personally, I have seen a lot of young woman wear them crazy short like that so honestly, Gracie was just ahead of the fashion curve. Prove me wrong. 

Nolan decided to taste the mud pie that he had made with one of the old people. Do you think "the parents" ever thanked me for boosting his immune system? I don't believe so. These young parents nowadays are clueless to the medicinal value of dirt. All I have to say is, you're welcome John and Amy. You're. Welcome.

Sweet Hannah asked if she could go into the kitchen and pack a picnic all by herself. What could I say but absolutely and a thousand times yes. She made an amazing alfresco delight for us all, packed into the old picnic basket that once belonged to my parents. We all dined on charcuterie extraordinaire with delicious fruits, assorted vegetables, delicate sweets and a magnificent fizzy cider. It was impressive. Of course, "the parents" were quick to say feeding the children vienna sausages, cheese whiz, fruit snacks, an entire variety pack of Lays chips, mini candy bars and apple juice past its expiration date showed a complete lack and loss of what little parenting skills we might have ever possessed. I say, organics be damned! If my grandchildren want to pack a picnic lunch, they shall pack a picnic lunch. 

And finally, our amazing grandson, Cavan, helped his papa start the biggest bonfire in the history of the world so we could make s'mores. This was after we found him, of course. Oh relax, he didn't die.