Sorry for the white space. I have my settings to display the last seven days’ worth of posts, and when you go, say, for 11 days without posting, there’s nothing to display. Thanks for the heads up, Heather.
Anyhoo: the rundown on the Frank family reunion will probably take a couple of posts/days for me to digest and report completely. It was, in all, a highly enjoyable friendly weekend. I learned several things about myself and my family.
The first: my nagging feelings of not being “good enough” from childhood, which I’ve managed to squelch as an adult, return full on when I’m among people I haven’t seen in 15 years. My car was not shiny enough, my kids not clean enough, my job didn’t pay enough, my eyebrows not shaped perfectly enough, my volleyball skills not sharp enough. [Brian points out to me, during the volleyball tourney, that I’m too bossy on the court.]
I have many cousins, most of whom are women and between the ages of 22 and 35, and they are *all* fit, small, pretty, smart. I literally come from a family of beautiful women. My mom and her sisters, all in their 50s now, are all exceptionally good-looking, and were all especially handsome in their youth as well. I’m not saying this just because they’re my family, either.
I just always feel like I’m the one with, you know, skin blemishes and dirty fingernails, and I haven’t ridden my bike across Iowa. [yet!]
Whatever. The initial shock of how perfect everyone else is dissapated after a while. We had a pig roast, a moon walk for all the great-grand kids (we had 16 kids between the ages of 2 months and 10 years there), a bon fire, a keg, tamales, barbershop and folk music.
There were, of course, the requisite foibles and rows: the initial site for the reunion (an aunt’s house) was nixed by the landlord–but he offered up an empty old house that had 5 apartment units and a large yard instead. I had my doubts about the comforts an unoccupied apartment building would offer to the 7-or-so families who had to travel from out-of-state–but it wasn’t horrible. I imagine my aunt spent a good deal of time scrubbing the place before we got there. It was situated about 50 yards away from the railroad that carried the twice-hourly Chicago-to-Milwaukee Amtrak, which shook the building all night and woke kids napping under the trees in the yard during the day. There were no screens in the windows, so during the day we’d hang the doors open to keep the breezes blowing and at night we hung flypaper. Some of the showers in some of the units worked, some didn’t; the same went for things like outlets, appliances, etc.
Yes. This was no convention at the Hyatt. But fun no less. Slideshow at flickr to follow.