Three

 

balloons

When you turn three, maybe you can count that high.

With your fingers. Grapes on your plate. Cheerios. Green beans.

My grandson turned 3 today.  I was lucky enough to travel to Washington, DC to spend the weekend with him, his parents and his dog.

And attend…two parties.
One with his friends yesterday.
One with family today.

Whew!

Two days filled with doing his favorite things…

Climbing. Running. Jumping. Giggling. Singing. Eating. Walking. Talking. Baseball. Basketball. Shouting…

Grandma Come!

 

park
Saturday Party at the Park

…Backhoes. Dump Trucks. Front Loaders. Construction Cones…everywhere!

 

bday morning
Sunday morning

 

Birthday morning visit to the National Zoo.  Lions…no tigers or bears…but monkeys, alpacas, an orangutang, cows, goats, donkeys, elephants and a gorilla family…oh my.

zoo

 

Afternoon with family from near and far. Sharing a small boy’s celebration of a third year of living life. Joyfully. Playfully. With energy to spare.

Blue eyes full of fun, love and mischief. Hints of his mother long ago, but mostly just uniquely him.

birthday 9th

 

Grampa and I fly home tomorrow.

We will look through the hundreds of photos we took.

Smile.

And sleep.

 

 

 

Homecoming 1964

This post inspired by Ragtag Daily Prompt: Homecoming

Homecoming

Prompt questions: Have you ever left home? Have you ever returned?

Answer: Yes and no.

I left home in my mind many times growing up. I had a small knapsack tucked in the back corner of my overfilled closet…containing what I must have considered necessities. Quarters. Tissues. Comb. Toothbrush. Underwear. Perhaps Bazooka bubble gum.
Since I never followed through on my plan, there was never any homecoming.

Coming home from summer camps, summer jobs, college…all happened without much fanfare. And my uneasy life would fall into place once again.

More joyous childhood homecomings were wrapped up with my grandparents, who I adored. One in particular took place in 1964.  My widowed great grandmother lived in Ohio and traveled to the East Coast to visit only a few times before she died in 1968. She was sweet and very soft spoken. Her skin…smooth and powdery. Fragile. She was my mother’s grandmother.

When she made the trip, it was a homecoming of sorts as she was able to spend time with her daughter (my grandmother) as well. We always made a very special occasion out of her visits. Celebration meals. Trips. And…lots of photographs.

The 4 generation pose was popular. My sisters, brother and I took turns sitting with my mother, grandmother and great grandmother.

I don’t remember if we were instructed in how to pose.

dec 1964021
Four generations – 1964

 

 

Old

This post inspired by One Word Sunday

summer 1940018
Summer 1940

 

One warm summer day
My grandmother and her mother
Posed on a park bench
Complete with handbags, hats and gloves.
Ankles carefully crossed.

I bet my grandfather said “smile”
Before he snapped the photo.