Suebee flips through The Tuscaloosa News which, of course, is not exactly the Atlanta Journal-Constitution. She and Pops were thrilled to pose for this morning photograph in the front yard. Thrilled, I tell you.
Suebee and Pops came for the weekend last month, their trunk filled with toys and the backseat bearing a surprise visit from cousin Jael. The girls caught up on gab and bikes and pinecone tossings.
We spent one afternoon traipsing around the Arboretum.
Okay, that's a lie. They traipsed while I hid behind a tree and worked on a fiction collection. When I say worked, I mean a strange combination of scribbling, editing, and trying not blur the ink by crying.
The King took photos of what I missed. As Suebee started off on the trail, Pops ushered stragglers forward.
Suebee tells Pat very clearly NOT to take photos of her hiking up the trail from behind. Having viewed the entire roll of film, I know for a fact that he refrained from taking rear pictures.
A beautiful golden flower filled with yellow stars. A face that could launch a thousand stories.
Among the missings was a dance performance at the open-air amphitheater.
Jael bops. Prophet looks cinematic. Gnome explores head-banging.
Clearly, there was booty-shaking which took place.
Let it be noted that there is nothing I appreciate like a good, mid-forest booty shake.
Gnome, Prophet, Sueebee, and Jael pose for a photo along the trails. Poor Prophet refused to apply chapstick around her mouth-- "it doesn't make sense, mom... my chin is not the same as my lips". So I had to formulate a term called chapped upper chin to describe the way the space around the lips gets chapped if you lick it during cold weather.
They sauntered to the top of the treehouse.
A serious version of something in the treehouse.
My favorite version of anything. Because it happens to include Him.
And then this.
