My dad is a photographer and poet, and weekly he combines these two gifts in emails that he sends out to his kids. A few times a week he emails out pictures of all the goings on at the Family Farm, and these pictures are always accompanied by whimsical texts that tell us the story of the day. Whether we live next door (like Tyler), in Boise (like Jake), in China (like Andrea), or in Oregon (like me), we know when a day has been spent mowing the grass or finding strange creatures.
Like this one, which my dad called a giant pacific coast salamander:
I'm not much of a strange creature kind of girl, but I do enjoy nice slimy pictures of them every once in awhile. Which is to say, I enjoy the ones my dad sends me. Don't send me any extra ones for fun.
I also usually get pictures of how Sydney spends her day at the farm, just so I can rest assured that she does, in fact, have lots of fun there even though she sometimes doesn't elaborate on what she's done. I ask her, "What did you do at the farm?" "I don't know," she says. "Did you eat dirt?" I ask. "No. Probably. No probably. That's what Clover says," and then she runs off to have pretend conversations with Clover in her room.
Give them some Yogos and they'll take over the world.
The best one from this week, however, is one my dad sent of their Memorial Day picnic. Now that the winter floodwaters have receded, the creek island is back in its summer glory, allowing for all 14 family members who are living at the Family Farm to enjoy the first island picnic of the season.
Poster boy for summer? I think so.