Mr. Potato Sack Race and Other Childish Shenanigans

Lil'bit had him a new birthday, which catapulted me right into the series of parenting that no longer includes a toddler or preschooler. Wow. Time...it does fly.

I figured this slideshow would be the best way to document his Toy Story 3 party. Notice in the picture of Buzz and Woody "defending the galaxy"...they are standing in front of a bowl of Milky Way candies...aha ha...I slay me. Enjoy!

The Time I Made My Family Drive Six Hours for a Cheeseburger

That title makes me sound a little demanding. I'm really not very demanding. But when I'm in the mood for a good ol' Whataburger, I'm not gonna let a little thing like distance get in the way.

Have you ever had a favorite something that you would really go out of your way to get to...even if it meant dragging your whole family down with you?

I was born and raised in South Texas. Whataburger and I share the same hometown, which means that where I grew up, there are more Whataburgers than fleas on a dog.

Bad analogy.

Let's say: there are more Whataburgers than fries in a Whata-size.

Better analogy.

My point: I ate a lot of Whataburger. Number 7 with cheese, please. All the way. Unless it's time for breakfast, in which case I'd like a Bob: Breakfast on a Bun.

The closest Whataburger to where we live now is in Birmingham, Alabama. I live in Georgia. There are Whataburgers in Alabama and Florida, but somehow the WB family has neglected the state of Georgia. Believe me, I have sent many a-complaint to WB Headquarters.

So when my birthday rolled around in September, I decided I wanted that Number 7...in spite of the three hour one-way drive.

Well it was my birthday; I wasn't about to go alone.

DH was all for it, because he loves the WB as much as I do. And my boys are always up for a road trip, so we set out on the interstate in want of a great burger and fries.

The trouble was that I had no idea what else we'd do while we were in Birmingham. But I figured there had to be some antique stores or something that I could torture my all-male family with, so I was content with that.

However, it's not like me to go somewhere and not have some kind of an idea, so I did a little research first. I found an old bookstore in downtown Birmingham called Jim Reed Books and The Museum of Fond Memories. (Sidebar: when the owner answers the phone, he says, "Reed Books...." I thought that was worth posting.)

The quote at the top of his website was a review of the store:

"To call Reed Books an 'old bookstore' is a bit like saying the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel has a good paint job." -- Allen Johnson Jr., author

As a lover of just about all things old, and especially old books, I just had to go there.

I was not disappointed...about the Whataburger or the book store.


We found the Whataburger first as it was just about lunch time and we were all starving.

This was the lovely lady who greeted us at the counter. She knew something was up when I walked in with my Nikon 35 mm camera taking pictures. I never saw her without that sweet smile on her face. She just about made my day, and I think we might have improved her day, too. She could not get over the fact that we had just driven in from North of Atlanta just for Whataburger.

We ate our wonderful, hot, delicious lunch and laughed with the staff and the other customers in the restaurant, who were as sweet as pie. And to prove it, that wonderful lady gave us all free fried pies before we left, just because we came all the way there just to see them. It was a treat well worth waiting for.

Here's Mini me after our meal, a.k.a. Les Miserables.

We made our way back on the road to look for this bookstore I had read about, and it revealed itself about 20 minutes later. Getting out of our truck parked on the curb in front of the store, I could hardly contain myself. There were squeals and claps and beaming smiles oozing from my being. I hadn't even entered the store yet.

We finally got past the storefront, which was interesting in and of itself, and much to my amazement we opened the door to this.

Immediately to the left of me just inside the door was this.

We didn't need to find any other antique store; this was going to suit my purpose juuuuuust fine.

We spent three hours in this one store, and I didn't even get to see everything. What's even more amazing than that is the fact that in three hours, my three boys didn't even get bored! Well, maybe a little at the end, but I'm telling you there was something for everybody in this place. Mini me got a couple of Star Wars books, Lil bit got a cheap plastic hero mask from the 1970's (huh?) and I got a coupla things for my birthday, too.

 
This glorious cabinet housed books that Mr. Reed kept locked away until someone asked to see them. They were either extremely rare, extremely old, or otherwise extremely expensive. In his acute discernment, he sensed my quivering excitement and pulled a book out of this cabinet that was no less than 450 years old and let me flip through it.

I was dumbfounded.


So much so that I forgot to take a picture of it before he put it back in the cabinet. :-/


Once we left antiquity paradise on earth, can you guess where we stopped before going home?

We had to eat dinner, didn't we?

Since You're Probably Cold Anyway

And since we're playing catch up, I'll start all the way back at the Fourth of July. Maybe the pictures will warm our frosty toes a bit.

We had a couple of families over for snacks and desserts in the afternoon. 

I'm going to say it looks like more desserts than snacks, 
but who's counting?

This was one of my favorite things I made for the day: 

Lady Liberty cupcakes. 
There is cupcake baked right into the ice cream cone!

I used sugar wafers cut diagonally and frosted to make the flames.

Some of the kids playing in the pool.

Parents doing what parents do best.

Brown Eyes warming his buns by the fire. 

Look at his face...goofball.

DH pulls out his big guns. Literally. The kids enjoyed watching him fire his "toys."

No Fourth of July is complete without the sparklers.

This is one of our guests...and can you believe it was his first time to hold a sparkler? He was pretty amazed. And a little nervous...but he got over it pretty quickly.

Up next: Lil'bit's Toy Story 6th Birthday party...replete with fun for all ages! (or at least for a 6 year old) Come back if you can stand all the rowdy tomfoolery! Can you handle it? We're a wild and crazy bunch.

Well, hello.

So how do you start a post when it's been almost six months since your last one?

I'm not sure.

But it kind of feels like trying to write a letter to an old friend to whom one hasn't spoken in a long time. So much to say, but you don't know where to begin. You also don't want to say so much as to bore your reader to death. Yet there are so many things swirling in the mind, you just can't nail them down.

These conflicting feelings are still fresh on me today as I recently experienced them even before trying to write this post. Just a short few months before moving from Texas to Georgia, I rapidly became friends with a girl named Ronda. We had a lot in common, namely a deep love for our God and an insatiable appetite for good coffee, plus we thoroughly enjoyed each other's company. After going through a difficult yet rewarding time in her life with her, we had to say goodbye. After my family moved to Georgia, we tried to stay in touch, but life eventually took over and we lost contact.

Fast forward about seven years. We reconnected on Facebook, as so many are doing these days, and before we knew it, she bought a plane ticket to come to Georgia and go to a Christian Apologetics conference with me (a whole 'nuther blog post). When I picked her up from the airport, I thought I would be unsure about what to say first.

I was never so pleasantly surprised to be wrong.

We talked and talked...it was just like picking up where we left off seven years ago. We even discovered some similarities that have unknowingly developed between us over the years...i.e., she has a "thing" for old books, too. {grin}

So getting back to my blog post, I suppose the best place to start is to play a little catch up. The most efficient, albeit a little cheesy, way to do that would be some highlights. I started to list them here, but then realized I have too many pictures and would either bore you to death or boggle blogger to crash.

So...for the next several posts, I plan to give some updates on highlights that have been in the Legacy household for the last six months or so. I invite you to come alongside and see what we've been up to! It'll be like Ronda and me on the ride home from the airport...let's enjoy the ride! It sure is great to get reacquainted with good, old friends again.

Here's a snapshot of some things I'll be sharing as we go:

• My birthday 3-hour trip to get a cheeseburger and fries...and books
• Lil'bit's Toy Story birthday, complete with Mr. Potato Sack Race
• North Georgia Fair
• Brown Eyes' Science party

Plus who knows what else I'll be reminded of. Join me?

By the way, my long-lost-friend Ronda just started her own blog this week...in case you wanted to stop by and say, well, hello. You can find her at Ronda's Rhyme and Reason. I just know she'd love to hear from you. I know I always do!

What Would I Say

What I wish I could say to my daddy:

First of all, I've missed you. I've missed the advice you could give me about these boys. I've missed standing on my tip-toes, as an adult, to hug you and kiss your cheek. I've missed those puppy-dog eyes smiling back at me.

I've missed your bar-b-q. And the pride that you took in your techniques.

And I've even missed your quirks. I miss trying to control my laughter while watching you put a stamp on an envelope. I miss how you would get up out of your chair just to walk across the room and pick up the piece of lint on the floor. And just the other day, I smiled at your oldest grandson when he was putting the trash can liner in the trash can. He must have shaken the liner 20 times before he put it in there.

He's a lot like you; he likes things to be "just so." As they ought to be.

Notice the empty pockets after purchasing his new truck.

I've missed sharing our home school with you. I remember when I was first talking about doing it, I almost dreaded your response. You would think I was insane, completely fallen off the deep end. Much to my surprise, you wanted to see the catalog I was ordering curriculum from and you asked me a million questions about how it works, what we'll do, and what the benefits were. You were never condescending, just curious. You showed interest, and it fueled my passion for my kids' education like nothing else.

I wish you could see them now. I wish you could throw the ball in the back yard with them and ride the rides with them at Six Flags. If you were still here, you'd still be young enough! I try to tell them about you, so they remember your name. It's so hard when only one of the three has his own memories of you. The other two have so much to leave to imagination.

 Dad's last Christmas with us. 

Mini me was 4; Brown Eyes was 2 months old.

So many memories are flooding my mind. I remember the first Thanksgiving meal I cooked for our whole family. I was so nervous because I knew how partial you were to "how it had always been" and I wanted to make it right for you, as well as for my own husband, who had his own ideas. It was a big day for me and in the end all seemed satisfied; I was well pleased.

By the way, mom told me what you said about my "alternative" dressing. She said you really liked it, but you weren't going to tell me that. I guess you wanted me to sweat it out. And that's okay; I knew the truth.

One of my favorite memories is so simple, so elemental, yet it was so profound to me. You had suffered multiple strokes and couldn't talk, but you were still very alert. There were several people standing around your hospital bed, and I was settled somewhat at a distance, allowing everyone else to have their time with you. You turned your head to face me, and motioned with your hand for me to come to you. I thought you needed something, so I grabbed your hand and asked, "What do you need, dad?" You firmly grasped my hand, closed your eyes, and I knew you had what you needed. You were never the type to display much affection; the fact that you singled me out in a room full of people meant the world to me.

I remember giving you a haircut in the hospital, too. I was so nervous about that because of how particular you could be, but you couldn't have seemed more relaxed. I never would have believed at the time that it was going to be your last haircut. What a privilege that was for me.

After we had to let you go, I was so thankful to have that night of "Heaven's Gates" to cling to. I would be willing to bet that now, after seeing Christ face to face, you hold that memory dear to you too. I remember after the presentation, everyone in the cast was asked to come forward to the alter and pray with those who had responded to the call to salvation...and there were a great many. After I prayed with a few of the ladies up front, I remember walking toward the back and looking to where you and mom had been sitting. You were both gone.

I truly expected that because you were always the one to leave a place before the crowd did. "I want to get out of the parking lot!" You would say. So I just knew that you two had left once the invitation had begun. I was devastated, but I just couldn't give up the hope that you were still there somewhere.

People were everywhere. Every. Where. I peeked inside the counseling rooms to see if I could spot you or mom anywhere. Please God, let them still be here. At the exact moment that I peered around the corner, you stood up from talking with a counselor. I had never been so blissfully surprised in all my life! To think that you had actually walked forward, in the middle of that huge crowd, and told someone that you wanted to receive Christ for yourself was almost more than this little girl's heart could contain! It was the very thing I had hoped and prayed for...but could hardly believe!

It was only two short years before we lost you. Mom and I both agree we saw some major changes in your life after that night at our church. And I have to admit, sometimes I wonder why God didn't let you stay a little longer and develop that young faith that was born in you. But who am I to question the very One who created you? His wisdom supremely outweighs mine, and His jurisdiction reaches eminently further than mine. Just to say the very least.

What I can say is this: I am so thankful that I have the assurance that you truly trusted Christ that night, and I'm thankful for the hope that brings. I will see you again someday, and we'll have all the time we need to talk about all you've been seeing these last years.

Thank you, dad, for persevering beyond the difficulties of growing up, and for overcoming so much to provide a good childhood for me. I never felt neglected, undervalued, or unloved by you. I recognize that you loved me in the best way you knew how, and I love you for that. Don't worry about the times when you feel like you failed me, because I already know what that feels like; I've failed too. But our God redeemed it all and my eyes are wide open to this fact: you cherished your only daughter.

And I love you too. Happy Father's Day, Daddy.

 Me, Daddy, and Momma

Preserving the United States of America

I have spent a lot of emotional energy this year on Memorial Day.

Some of the reason for that is because at times I am overwhelmed with thankfulness, like yesterday in church when all of our service men and women were asked to stand so we could offer our gratitude and respect for them. Literally hundreds of people stood tall and strong, some in uniform and some not. Most had tears in their eyes it seemed...I suspect tears of honor, of deep love for our country, and perhaps some were tears of painful wartime memories.

Sometimes I am stirred, though, because I can feel the sting of many years of not realizing how much so many have sacrificed. I knew that many had lived their entire lives defending our freedom. I even knew that many had died in the very act of defending our freedom. But the fact is, for so many years, I took our liberty for granted. I never considered their cost, because it hadn't cost me a thing.

God, forgive me for being so selfish.


Now, it feels like I'm making up for all those years of not paying attention; not truly remembering people I don't know, those who made a decision early in their lives to protect my freedom to be self-centered. There is an awakening in me the older I get and with the more men and women I see in uniform...with their strong brow of commitment and determination, but tender eyes of compassion and patriotism. And they've known all along what may be required of them, but they serve with courage anyway.

There is one other recurring thought that I will leave you with this weekend:


Why are we, as a nation, now so willing to literally give away what they've fought so hard to preserve? 

God, please, help us wake up and be willing to preserve the foundation You prepared for this great country.

Karl Marx once said, "A people without a heritage are easily persuaded." Will we be those people? Will we be easily persuaded because we've allowed our heritage of patriotism and love of country to be displaced by love of self? God help us.

I've Fallen Off the Wagon

I couldn't resist any longer.

It's been a busy year, but with school coming to a pseudo-close, I got back on Facebook.

I know, what was I thinking?

I mean, sure, I remember the post I wrote about why I left it behind. But since the school year is winding down, and I'm no longer going to be "trying a new curriculum," you know, since I've already been doing it all year,
I think I can handle it.

Besides, this time, I know what to expect. I know where to draw the line before it gets insane.

No more Farmtown.

No more weirdo gifts to be obligated to pass around.

Sending a flying cockroach to my middle-school-childhood BFF was fun, but, it's been done now. No reason to do it again.

And absolutely no more goofy quizzes. Unless of course I find one that tells me what Mystery Science Theater 3000 robot I am. I might make an exception for that one.

Oh, and I'll pass on the Lil' Green Patch too. Sheesh. Do you have any idea how much time I spent watering, raking, and sending cabbage-patch-looking plants to people?

No more.

It's a Social Networking site, and that's what I intend to use it for. Anything else is just time abuse. See ya there!

Flashback Friday - Early Jobs

How old were you when you got your first (paying) job? Did you work during the school year? What stipulations, if any, did your parents put on spending, saving, etc.? What types of jobs did you have before you were, oh, 21 or 22? Did you go to college or a technical/trade school? If so, did you work while you were pursuing your post-high school education? What were your favorite -- and least favorite, if you wish to share! -- jobs? What did you learn from those early jobs?

I'd love to tell you that my first job was something cool, like a child actress at Walt Disneyworld or as an intern at NASA, or as a tester for Godiva chocolate. I'd love to say that I spent my first year after high school giving tour guides on the Mediterranean or cycling in Paris, France. The title "travel journalist" unfortunately has never graced my resume.

I flipped burgers for McDonalds. Life can be so cruel.


Shortly after I got the job, I acquired a second summer job working for The Go Round in the mall. It was a high fashion store in the late 80's that all the hip people shopped at. It capitalized on short-lived fashion fads, which is a stroke of genius being that fads come and go almost monthly. Especially in the 80's.

For me, it was a way to acquire a cool gnarley-dude-radical wardrobe and work with my best-ies.

Probably the most interesting thing about that job was the MC Hammer pants I used to wear to work. Most people would get fired for wearing stuff like this to their job:

But, believe it or not, we sold them.

The best part of the McD's job was the free lunches. For a poor high school student, you can't beat a free lunch.

That's what I did the summer before my senior year. After graduation, I went to college in San Antonio and worked on campus at the cafe by the dorms. That was a fun job. I got to know a lot of people who lived on campus that way, and I didn't have to drive to work...which made it a lot easier to be on time every day.

Especially in those up-all-night college years where one tries to sleep until exactly three and half minutes before one must be at work. Eh hem.

Anywho, the guy that ran the cafe had a catering business on the side, and he would pull from his staff at the cafe to serve at the weddings/parties he catered. That was a lot of fun, and it was the closest I ever got to waitressing.

I worked as a telemarketer for a while after that. I don't really want to talk about it.


Shortly afterwards, I moved back home and went to work for the USO. Yeah, as in Bob Hope. Only I didn't ship out to all the servicemen in all the world wearing little more than a half a coat dress.

But I did get to work at the Naval Air Station and serve coffee, freshly baked cookies, and cable TV to those on our base. Really, I worked in the office most often, but it was fun non-the-less.

And no, I never dated a fly-boy.

So anyway, I think I'll stop there. I could go on to the other jobs I had after this one, but they were mostly office jobs that, although I enjoyed most of them, they are not much to write about. Plus, at some point, these memories must eventually become non-flashbacks.

Hop on over to Mocha with Linda and check out some other peoples' answers for Flashback Friday!

Out of House and Home

I have a concern.

Let's just get down to the nitty-gritty of it, shall we?

Why is it that my 12 yo boy, who has recently shared with me that he now has hair under his arms, has suddenly reverted back to being an infant in a five foot tall body?

Observe Exhibits A, B, and C as follows:

• He's a grump of epic proportion if he gets less than 10 hours of sleep. He actually prefers 12 out of the 24 he's given.

• He cries at the drop of a hat. Or a baseball glove. Or a lego truck. Don't ask. 

• My first-born wants to eat...literally...every two hours. Just like a newborn.

Seriously? Is this going to happen with all of them? Because I don't think my husband and I together could make enough money to feed them all if this is going to continue. That's if I made any money at all.

I think I'll search Craigslist and see if there's anyone out there willing to pay a salary for doing laundry. I'm really good at that. My experience here is colossal.

Silver lining: At least he hasn't reverted back to diapers. Yet.  
For this I can be eternally grateful.

The Real Reason I Miss the 80's

Our former President Ronald Reagan had some incredible insight. This was recorded in 1961, while still an actor and a budding political voice. Incidentally, he was saying these things during the same time his political views were changing; the next year he officially changed political parties and became a Republican.

Listen to what he says about socialized medicine. There's a line at the beginning that completely blew me away; let's see if you can spot it.

I've been two-timing, but I haven't abandoned...

Would you like to see what I've been up to in my silence? Well, at least one thing?

Check out my new blog for the Russia Mission team that is heading out next month! Be sure and read the Welcome post to learn about the trip and the place we will be going...

Please be praying for our team as they all prepare for the trip. I say "they" because I'm not actually going. {sniff} I want to SO badly, but it seems that this is not the right time for me. So, I am doing battle for them on the homefront by volunteering as their Prayer Captain. The blog is where you can find our prayer requests and reports about how things are going.

Please pray for us. Everyone on the team wants God to do a mighty work through each of us on this trip. Please pray that God's hand would be upon us, His spirit would abound in us, and His Word would abide in us.

Thanks so much for your prayer and interest in our mission.

Light to Desnogorsk Russia

Can't afford the new iPad? You gotta check this out

I just simply can't pass this one up.

I may have a small platform here in my slice of the blogosphere, but shame on me if I don't share this with y'all.

Lemmie know whatcha think.






Anybody up for a gamble?

This is the Day

"This is the Day that the Lord has made; we will rejoice and be glad in it." Psalm 118:24


This is one of the most well-known verses from the Psalms. Have you ever read this verse deliberately in context with the previous two verses?

"The stone which the builders rejected [Jesus] has become the chief cornerstone [on which to build our spiritual foundation]. This was the Lord's doing; it is marvelous in our eyes. This is the Day the Lord has made; we will rejoice and be glad in it." Psalm 118:22-24

The next verse opens with "Save now, I pray, O LORD..." which translated from Hebrew, this becomes "Hosanna!"

The thought of Good Friday can make a Christian very mournful.

"He humbled himself, by becoming obedient to the point of death – even death on a cross!" Phil 2:8


I mourn the fact that my God and Savior had to endure all this because of my sin.

Yes, He did.


But He didn't "have" to as much as He wanted to. He chose to. It was the only way we could be redeemed.

The Hebrews celebrated "this day" as the Day of Deliverance. This is the Day of Deliverance for us, too.

"...He said, 'It is finished!' And bowing His head, He gave up His spirit." John 19:30

This Good Friday represents the most difficult day in the life of our Lord Jesus. But it also represents the day that He stood in my place. This is the Day that the LORD has made...let us rejoice and be glad in it.

Thank you, Lord Jesus, that you were willing to pay a debt that you did not owe, because I owed a debt I could not pay. For this I will worship You alone forever.

Cake for Supper and Dirt for Dessert

We're friends, right?

And friends share recipes and exchange our impressively creative ideas with each other, right?

This is one of the many, many benefits to blogging: all the paramount ideas we can learn from one another. I got the idea for dinner today from one such blogger, Karen at Surviving Motherhood, and now I have the privilege of sharing it with YOU.

We did something like this several years ago, but I didn't get any pictures of it then.

1. I didn't have a camera.
2. I wasn't blogging yet, so it didn't matter.

But today, I'm getting pictures. Because you wouldn't believe me if I didn't get them.

Menu for the Day:

Breakfast
Vanilla Ice Cream scoops with chocolate syrup
(drop biscuit scoops with warm Nutella poured over the top)

 Breakfast of the Year 2010

Lil'bit enjoying his "hot fudge sundae" breakfast

Lunch
Fish Sticks with mac & cheese
(vanilla wafer cookies covered in peanut butter and "breaded" with crushed corn flakes; mac & cheese was real)

 Fish Sticks that fell from heaven

Brown Eyes was pretty fooled with this one; he had no idea until he bit into it.

Dinner
Chocolate cake with white icing
(meatloaf cake frosted with mashed potatoes, served with real green beans...I can't help myself.)

Lil'bit was the only one so fooled by this one. He kept asking if he could "lick the bowl."

Dinner was really fun...

Lil'bit was "less than impressed" with his "cake"

Mini me enjoying his "cake"

Red Juice Cocktail
(which was really red jell-o in a glass with a straw)

Mini me's thinkin', "How am I supposed to drink THIS?"

Dessert
Flower Pot Dirt Cake
(crushed oreos on top of pudding/coolwhip/cream cheese concoction)

 Complete with Easter lilies

The last time we did this, we made cupcakes the same way as the cake; just make meatloaf in muffin cups, and "frost" with colored mashed potatoes. We also made green beans out of green jolly rancher chews, which was really fun.

Hope you guys had a great April Fool's Day...I know we did.

Have a Happy Resurrection Day!

It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

FYI:  This post has nothing to do with Mr. Rogers. Except that it was a beautiful day in our neighborhood. So if Mr. Rogers was your draw here, then, feel free to carry on.

When we came home from Texas, one of the things we brought back with us was a picnic table and benches that my grandpa built when I was young.

The story is that he was driving in town one day and spotted a set in the back of someone else's truck. He liked the shape of them, so he came home and explained it to my grandmother: "This is what I want to build!"

The fact that I am visual in my creativity in that I need to "see" something before I can create something (even if it's in my own mind) is a characteristic I got honestly. From Grandma. She couldn't see it from description alone. So he took out some cardboard and drew his pattern for her to see and him to use.

The result is a beautiful picnic table and bench set that is as unique as he was.

When I was little, he used to tell me, "Matchabelli..." (as in, Prince Matchabelli perfume...I told you -- unique)...he'd say, "Matchabelli, you need to drink all that orange juice. It'll make your eyes curly and your hair blue." I'd laugh, and he'd look at me like, "What's so funny?" And then grin that precious smile of his.

Grandpa was the one who would squeeze me so tight that I had to hold my breath. I simply couldn't take any air in my lungs while he hugged me. Grandma would get onto him for hugging me so tight, but he loved me so much he couldn't help it. Those were great hugs.

Grandpa was also the one who, when I was four years old and loving the Love Boat show, promised me that when I was 16 he would take me on the Love Boat. And the summer before my 16th birthday, gave up his dream to take an Alaskan cruise because I had always pictured a tropical one, and took me and Grandma to the Bahamas.

He was a great man.

So, back to the picnic table.

Grandma didn't have room for it anymore, so she asked if we wanted it.

Um, that would be a yes.

Today was so much the perfect blue-sky-crisp-breeze-birds-singing-in-the-trees kind of day that we took a break from school to have lunch on Grandpa's picnic table.

Thank you, Lord, for a special Grandpa, warm memories, some awesome boys, and an uber-gorgeous day.