#452 Happy 88th, Mammaw!
Just like last year, daddy’s entire side of the family got together at cousin Kent’s rambling turn-of-the-century home (that is slammed, quite literally, with antiques from floor to ceiling) for mammaw’s birthday lunch. Her sister Roberta cooked enough for a Thanksgiving meal, we ate enough to kill someone. We do it right in the south.
How glamorous is my mama? Goodness I hope I look like her when I’m in my 50s.
My handsome Mitter.
Maybe the best thing about this photo of us all singing and clapping “Happy Birthday” while mammaw takes the first bite of her homemade strawberry birthday cake is Jim in the background blowing a snot rocket.
My mama and brother. Don’t they look just alike?
Jim showing daddy pictures from their trip to Savannah.
My bub.
Family portrait, sans Clark. He scooted out a little early.
Also, it turns out that my third cousin Hannah has one of the most amazing voices I’ve ever heard and she’s learning to play the ukelele. She’s only 15 and already has the soulful, rich voice of a woman. Watch out, Ingrid.
