It just occurred to me that I don't actually have a family or holiday category for my site. I guess that might say something... I'm not a big fan of the holidays, mostly because my family is a lot smaller than it used to be. We used to have at least 15 or so people stuffed into either my mom's house, my grandmother's, or my mom's now black sheep sister. Divorce and death have taken their toll, though, and now, admittedly, the holidays are a bit meloncholy for me. However, I did reengage myself a little bit this year with the camera, fully intending to blog the holidays in our family. I also learned that I'm a goofball and didn't figure out how to use the autofocus on my camera until after the photos were done. So, some of these didn't come out that great, but rest assured, the Christmas pics will be clear and crisp.
Nana and Puba... I try not to get her excited, because she'll pee on the floor... the dog, that is. Puba is actually much older than Nana. She's 98 in dog years, while Nana is a young 86. Nana is mom's mom. She's Sicilian. Both Nana and Puba have bounced down a flight of stairs in the last few years... Nana fell backwards down a flight of steps at my brother's old house in Chicago and wound up with a golf ball sized bump on her head. Puba fell down our basement steps the other day, apparently, and was completely unscathed. These old gals are unbreakable.
This is my dad checking out the neighbors behind us in the backyard. They're gutting their house, but instead of moving the furniture from room to room while they work, they just dumped it all in the backyard... totally uncovered. Its raining now, and there's a microwave out there for starters. Bizzare.
They got a new dining room set. I think it looks nice, but it turns out that small people don't fit in the chairs very well, because they're too big. My mom's cousin Denise couldn't reach the floor with her feet. So we only had eight people: Me, my parents, Nana, Mom's cousin Denise, Jackie (my great uncle's widow), her new boyfriend Jim the Pilot, and my brother Steve. Steve hates being photographed, but I did get him to take one with me at the end.
Mom making me a leftovers dish to take home. Dad doing the dishes. Puba foraging under the table for scraps. My strawberry tart.
And yes, Steve does exist. The funny thing is that Dad's cousin Danny once thought that we only had two brothers in our family... the guy knew us for 25 years and didn't know Steve even existed. That's why we used to call him The Phantom when I was younger... he was always off working or at the gym.
Best picture... My parent's wedding picture in a frame in the dining room:
They're married for 43 years now.