Be Prepared

My cousin Mike is now married! Back in the day, when we were grubby-kneed terrors squirrelling through hay mows and ripping the seats of our jeans sliding off the sawmill roof, I never could have imagined the day when I, married, would take my three daughters to see him marry. (John was working, to explain his absence in the following snapshots.)

In the hands of little girls, the croquet mallets became water magnets. They tried their best, but there was no way to keep the mallets from the pond.




Annie in her everpresent shades.




Susannah takes a turn.





She takes a break from climbing trees for a quick squeeze.



One of my cousin Matt's beautiful daughters. (He has six!)



Millie guzzled too many of these.



My mom and Great-aunt Naomi, who doesn't look any different than she does in my memory. When I was very young, we used to sit on her lawn on Main Street during the County Fair parade and gather fistfuls of candy. She would serve us iced tea, the only time I remember drinking it until I was much older. She'll always be linked to firemen's candy and iced tea in my mind, which isn't a bad link, if you ask me.




As always, my dad fulfilled his life's prime directive-- neglecting all else to ensure that no one, old or young, drowns in the pond.



This isn't a great picture, but I like how the sun lights up her hair.



My dad and Annika threw double frisbees.





People swam and lounged on the dock.



And people waded, fully clothed, because Someone thought it would be too cold to swim and so packed no suits. (Yes, that same Someone regretted their absence when she felt the water.)