there comes a time

in every girl’s life when her garden is weeded, her house and garage are as clean as they can be and she no longer has to cover any night meetings.

is that … am i … it’s a strange, foriegn sensation. it’s like when you become aware of time passing slowly and then there’s nothing to fill it. it’s like a hanging in the air. i think the city kids call it ‘waiting for activities to happen,’ or ‘looking for activities to fill the time.’ yes. that must be the name of this feeling i am feeling.

let’s get to the point: seth and i just had the Best Weekend Ever.

This child kills me.

This child kills me.

we had the whole fam-damily up for a cook/camp out, where much quality time was accrued. johnsons, although outnumbered by teters, managed to mix perfectly with the crowd–when they hadn’t snuck away in the woods to smoke or pop painkillers, that is. :) these are my people whom i love. we will cook the tastiest side dishes you can imagine. we will dominate you at cornhole.

we got jacob’s new white shoes caked with mud. i hope he’s allowed to come back to Bangs. there was a memorable moment after the fireworks when he fell asleep as i carried him 100 feet back to the car. i was impressed by his zero-to-60-and-back-again capabilities. it must be nice to be 3.

owie won the heart of my father simply by appearingcomfortable on the farm with the chickens. he was totally in his element. he has a john deer, after all.

and melia, who is not yet 1, signed ‘more! more!’ during the mount vernon fireworks. she ain’t no scared sucker-baby.

I know the feeling.

I know the feeling.

Christy pretty much kept tabs on my fourth neice or nephew. this family is growing out of control.

Sunday, we had our pastor and his wife over for an evening picnic.

i don’t want to spoil it, but i think they could be the one.

he is, and i think i have this right: a new york italian raised roman catholic with the occasional yiddish phrase every now and then. early 50s. accordion rocker. and his better half? she’s a little firecracker. a pistola. and totally rad in my mind. photojournalist/documentaries/music/teacher/student/the works. do you think they’ll call us for a second date? (!)

and this might break your WHOLES-O-MEters: we hope to hit up a b-i-b-l-e study this week.

wish me luck.*

*EDIT: please click on this link for an illustration of half the P-Do-Las.  There is no better picture ever taken.

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