the cousins came

The past weekend, the cousins came. For two full days, the children played without ceasing.

One family brought tee-shirts: blue for the boys, green for the girls. The kids decorated their shirts, signed each one, put their numberwhere they fall in the cousin line-upon the sleeve, and then proceeded to wear the shirts all weekend long.

Heading out to get basil from my brother’s garden. 
Nine childrenall barefoot—marching down the road in single file. 
I wonder what the neighbors thought.

At times it got kinda tight inside. But space is overrated. 

It always strikes me as rather amazing, the children’s ability to take up residence with a pack of rarely-seen family members and completely get along. Electronics is a non-issue. No one (except one of my own, gottaloveit) complains about being bored. There is no “I’m-too-cool-for-this-game” snootiness. Inclusiveness and positive attitudes rule.

Riverside visit.

This uncle is not particularly picky about his sleeping accommodations.

She’s Number Two of the twenty-four.

Synchronized splashing.

A fifteen-month age difference. Which one is older? 

It’s not as though our families are exactly alike because we’re not. Like any other family, we have different temperaments, interests, and life styles. And yet, somehow, all our children love being together. What a gift.

Along with my husband’s side of the family (a third of them, anyway) visiting us, my side of the family was also gathered in our neck of the woods. On Saturday I made donuts for everybody—that’s 28 people, total—and some of my family joined the chaos again on Sunday for hot dogs, hamburgers, and sausages. The more the merrier, I say.

How many Murches does it take to cut out donuts?
ALL the Murches!

She was rather partial to the vodka cream sauce.

The grill master (not my husband).
Full table. 
When the living situation gets crazy, light a fire in the field and tend it with an excavator.
The biggest bed on the premises.
(I told you that uncle wasn’t picky.)
How many Murches fit in a K’ekchi’ skirt? 
ALL the Murches!

Swing-time sillies.

He scored a puppy! 

Now we are back to our small, quiet (only in comparison) household of six, normal routines, and boatloads of tomatoes to put up. But we’re still feasting on the leftovers. And when those run out, we’ll savor the memories. They’re the best part, I think.

This same time, years previous: the quotidian (9.2.13), the quotidian (9.3.12), caramelized oat topping, roasted peaches, around the house, picture perfect, honey-whole wheat cake, on our way, smartly, and blueberry coffee cake.


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