to grandpa’s house we go

My childhood memories are full of times at my grandparents homes. Well, my teenage years, college years and adult years are full of memories in their homes too. I remember being a little girl running through my paternal grandpa’s garden. Everything grew several feet high and there wasn’t a single path in the whole yard. Vegetables covered the entire place. My grandma would have towels hanging from the clothes line and I would climb up to hang from the big metal poles. My grandma passed away a few years ago and my grandpa has had to scale back his garden tremendously. Things have changed and yet remained so very familiar. Now, my kids hang from those old clothes line poles.

Instead of my sister and I helping grandpa garden, my kids get lessons from their great grandpa.

My kids are the ones banging on the back door now.

And on Easter Sunday, it is the great grandkids that get to hunt for money and candy filled eggs in their great grandpa’s front yard. FireCracker discovered she could watch the hiding from the backyard.

Sharing an egg with his little brother. I don’t think I ever shared with Lesley.

He had a watchful eye on the little girls. He’d pull an egg from his basket and drop it in the wide open for the little girls to find.

The girls moved slower than the boys and were much easier to photograph.

FireCracker only wanted to take pictures with her newborn baby cousin. I tickled her to attempt a family shot. She was much happier to hold the baby than to be held by me.

She thinks it is the best day ever when we wear our boots together.

I did say “no” to the matching Star Wars tattoos…she rocked hers on her hand though.