Dear friends,
We just returned from Mr. Mom’s family reunion in Iowa. It was three days of wonderful in the middle of America’s heartland, chock full of tall tales and friendly competitions and fond remembrances and happy reunions and sleepy babies and farm-fresh food and even a few fireworks.
Of the 100+ folks in attendance, I had previously met fewer than a dozen. The old-timers say it was the biggest crowd ever for a family that’s been gathering for decades. Mr. Mom thinks it’s been about 35 years since he last returned to his grandparent’s farm for an extended visit with his aunts and uncles and cousins. I’m not sure why it took us so long to make our way to the family homestead, but I’m sure glad we showed up for “the big one.”
Mr. Mom’s family is descended from German and Scottish stock. His grandparents — Allan and Della — purchased their first farm for $35 an acre in 1935. Della birthed 13 children and all but one lived into adulthood. Mr. Mom’s mother, Rita, was number five. It is an understatement to say Allan and Della and their children worked hard on the farm. The large, beautiful and productive acreage that exists today and is being farmed by their grandchildren and great-grandchildren is testament enough, I think, to Allan and Della’s legacy of hard work and self-reliance.
I could spend a thousand words telling you all about everything I saw and heard on the farm but I couldn’t begin to do it justice. Instead, I’ll share a few of my favorite photographs.
These are Allan and Della’s descendants — about a hundred of them in this photo alone.
By the way, I took the photo after Mr. Mom’s cousin gave me a lift (about a 25-foot lift) on his front-end loader. I snapped the photo with one hand while holding on to the platform with the other. I’m dreadfully afraid of heights (and Mr. Mom’s family could tell by my body language and facial expression, I suspect) but I really wanted a great group photo. I think I got it!
These guys weren’t afraid at all of riding on the lift. Bunch of show-offs!
Games for adults included bean bag tossing and cow chip throwing.
Watermelon was plentiful. Leftovers were not.
Apple bobbing attracted the little ones . . .
for both waterplay . . .
and dessert.
The agile among us tried their hand at volleyball.
For the record, I am not agile.
Which explains why there’s no photo of me swinging off the rope into the pond.
The teeter-totter would have have been more my speed but it was occupied almost all weekend.
As was the swing-set.
And the hand-cranked corn sheller.
And the pony ride.
The farm equipment tour attracted young and old.
And reunion-goers of all ages sometimes required 40 winks or more given the pace of activity.
But there were smiles all around . . .
and plenty of hugs
and even a height adjustment for Mr. Mom’s vertically challenged Aunt Sue.
In the end, we came home tired and sleepy, but the best kind of both, the kind where you know happy memories will linger far longer than vacation fatigue.
With gratitude {for summer road trips and kids who’ll still tag along with their parents},
Joan, who’s always wondered how life would have been different if she had been born into a big family, but thinks marrying into one is a nice substitute