We are still basking in the glow of a weekend with Debbie, Jason, Leo, Wyatt and Sylvia. Come back soon!
9 Aug
8 Aug
August 8th marks a sad day for our family. As I added the year next to my signature this morning, I realized this particular August 8th marks 10 years since we received the heartbreaking, but unsurprising, call about Grandma Dankleff.
Ten years? Is that even possible?
On one hand, ten years seems like no time at all, considering I can still hear her voice and recall exactly how she would answer the phone when I dialed. I can easily picture her hands—almond shaped nails and a new brushed gold wedding band, the original having worn through after decades of contact with a tractor’s steering wheel. I can smell the coffee in the pot on the counter, brewed and waiting for Grandpa, who was soon to come in from the field.
But while these memories are still very fresh, much has changed in the past decade.
The last time I saw Grandma, I showed her photos of the house we had just purchased–a small, two bedroom ranch in Madison. I remember she asked about the orientation of the driveway, concerned about the combination of a fierce wind and the snowy winter to come. Now, we’re in a new home, in a state to the south of hers. We have graduate degrees and evolving careers.
Ten years ago, I hadn’t considered much in the way of starting a family. Now, I have spent the past six years wondering what Grandma would think of my daughters, and wondering if Ava and her sister will even believe the stories I will eventually share, or if they will just assume they’ve grown grandiose as they swirled in my mind over the years.
Her last instructions were to “take care of each other,” and I believe we’ve done a relatively good job of that. It hasn’t always been particularly easy to navigate relationships without her presence and guidance, but I had 23 years to learn from her example. Ten years later, I still wish I’d had 20 more.
8 Aug
Last week, when the actual air temperature hit 113 degrees and water from the sprinkler evaporated before it even hit the sidewalk, the summer felt truly unbearable.
My dad called last Wednesday morning, suggesting we meet near Sabetha for an afternoon of fishing on Pony Creek Lake. Despite a forecast high of 97 degrees, I decided to move a few meetings and head north. I’m glad I did–the temperature dropped 10 degrees as I made my way toward the Nebraska border, and a breeze kept us relatively cool that afternoon.
We had a great time–the lake was quiet and gorgeous, and I very much enjoyed spending the day with Dad.
While the fish weren’t biting, the flies were. At one point I said, “When flies bite, doesn’t that mean it’s going to rain?” He responded, “Nope, it means the flies are biting.”A fair point, I suppose, as evidenced by the fact it didn’t actually rain.
But, yesterday–a day after the incredible heat finally broke–I found myself relatively certain it was going to rain . . . no old wives’ tales needed.
2 Aug
30 Jul
9 Jul
I took this shot roughly 20 minutes after we arrived at the cabin in Minnesota. Ava–much like her mother–doesn’t mess around when it comes to time at Little Birch Lake.
8 Jul
Admittedly, I’m always a bit lazy with my camera when I’m around the Smith family–the group is teeming with outstanding photographers who do a fabulous job of documenting our gatherings. The reunion was no exception. Many albums are up on Facebook, and you can see Doug’s via the link on the right. But, here are a few of my shots from the “Everyonesmith Reunited” reunion, which was held at Lake Okoboji in northern Iowa. The setting was perfect, the weather was wonderful, and the plans were flawless. The company, though, was the best part.
I feel pretty fortunate to part of this family–thank you to everyone who had a hand in making this such a fun week. We look forward to 2012!
20 Jun
We celebrated Bryan’s birthday last week with the traditional breakfast sandwich, a stack of presents, and visit from his parents.
When Bryan saw his gifts, he picked them up one by one, shook them, and said, “Shoes, shirt, shorts, shorts, shirt, gift card, and…liquor, but I’m not sure what kind…”
He was right on every count.
Next year, I think I’ll leave them unwrapped!