Husband and cousins and siblings, oh my.

The super-reunion weekend turned out great.

Here's the instamatic recap.

I learned a lot from Steve's visit. I'd been worried that after being apart for a month would make things feel awkward or strange when we reunited. As it turned out, though, the three days together were a calming exhale for both of us. It was reassuring to know that the world continues to make more sense for us when we're together. (These things can go either way, right?)

We were early picking up my cousin Jane from the airport, so we visited my parents' graves at Fort Snelling National Cemetery. Incredibly, we found them, thanks to some good directions from my brother (go to the third turn-around, turn around and go almost back to the second turn around, look for the water spigot and the headstone of Infant Child of Phillip Harry, then walk down that row till you see the one that's kinda crooked...")


Dad used to quote this verse: "In Flanders Fields the poppies grow, between the crosses, row on row." I plan to read the rest of that poem later tonight and think some more about Mom and Dad and thousands of soldiers, husbands, and wives buried in that massive, melancholy expanse of white and green.






Here are Jane, Lisa, and I doing the cousin thing at a hipster outdoor cafe in Minneapolis.











Whiz Bang Days was everything I dreamed it would be. More, actually, because I never imagined that buying a brat and chips from the Lions Club would lead me to enter my first ever Meat Raffle.












Steve and I watched a little softball as the mini-donuts called my name from deep center field.












This friendly venue was not tempting at 10 a.m, though a few of the softball players obviously figured it was 5:00 somewhere:












If there were such a thing as Americana poisoning, Whiz Bang Days would do you in.











But I dodged that bullet, so now it's back to this summer's version of real life!