rocket kit in the field

We went back to the field to watch Dan shoot off his rockets.  We gave him these for his birthday, thought rockets might be more fun than a shirt or some boring 30 year old guy gift.

He and John loved shooting rockets back in the day. So now he has his own new launch pad and detonator and a couple easy kits for fun, so his kid can get in on it too.

b.g. was right there, many fast hands helping while Dan assembled the rocket.

Here are Kirsten and James.   This looks questionable, especially in a dress and flip flops. She's coordinated though, no injuries.

He's getting everything ready.

 While b.g. waves the detonator around.

 Standing back for the count down:

 Run little doggie!

 There you have it!  Gone!

It actually was not found.  Dan biked up to the road and looked, or maybe it was James who did, but the rocket is probably stuck in some tree.

Then there was this activity.   We used to have this big (unused) sewer pipe in our back yard for the kids' enjoyment.   There were too many accidents and incidents, so we took it to the lake, to the woods and field.

 Here's b.g. diving inside for a ride:

 Aww and Heidi with the little brother, looking good.

And a fine Sunday night it was.  Sigh.   Lots of noise, and action, and too much food, and even though we all get very tired being together, it also is kind of special since it only happens a couple times a year.   So we love it, but bring aspirin. 

And John and Dannell brought homemade brandy slush.  The first time John brought this he called me for the recipe.  I don't have it.  Might want to call my mother, and if she doesn't, call Great-Grandma.

He laughed, "Yeah, if you're mother doesn't have the recipe, I'm going straight to the top."

My grandma laughed and laughed, "So apparently I'm the top?"  Yes, you are.  In this family, yes.

Anyway, the brandy slush was perfect and sweet, and we were too tired to stay up late anyway.

(Some babies get up at 5:00. And then their parents look pale and wan by 2 pm.  Babies are seriously exhausting.)

Maria used to play this asinine game where she'd be all bouncy and lively, curly hair and chubby lips, Miss Adorable, at 6am.

I'd drag my sorry ass out of bed and try to keep her safe in my half-coma state.  Then by 8 am she'd announce, "I'm bushed, " and she'd go back to bed.

How I resented this!!  (And she was the sixth child!)  Oh sure, you've got the whole family up and now you're going back to bed??

Whee.  And it was hot in the room, and the fan did not work.   It was a great weekend, but I'm also happy to be back in my own room tonight, soft wool rug under my feet, air conditioner softly blowing, bath water waiting down the hall.

Hey YOU KIDS--I love each one of you so dearly.  And Joe, Alicia, and Dannell?  Thank you for your patience, sense of humor, and good natured support of each other and of me and Dad as parents.

We're all going to miss the boat, be stupid, clueless, inconsiderate, and here's the beauty of you all--you overlook those moments in favor of the big picture, in favor of a community of people who love and care about each other.

It's safe to be an idiot.  (That's no small thing.)  And it feels good to feel appreciated, human as we all are, and that's not a small thing either.

So here's to another summer of mayhem and racket at the lake.

I have more pictures, don't worry.  love you all so, MOM, and DAD too.