We used to have a lot of family feeds at our house, both summer and winter. The sisters, their husbands, and their children came, and each family brought something to add to the feast. For many years before I got a big house, we would go to Betty's to get together.
To sing my tired old refrain, time marches on. Demographics have changed, but we try to get together a couple of times a year. Both times are for Thanksgiving. We do the same old Thanksgiving everyone else does in November, but we try for another one around the end of June.
Attendance has dropped way down because as families grow, priorities change. It is understandable, but sometimes I long for the good ole days. I also longed for decent weather in June, but it wasn't to happen. Thanksgiving at the end of July is more than we bargained for heat-wise.
Lord help us when I long for the good ole days. Sometimes I can reminisce over the times when my kids were little, for when I was little, and for years before I was ever born. I'm like that.
These tractor seat chairs were Mom's. She kept them in the back yard under the black walnut tree. I was giddy when no one else wanted them and we hauled them home. Mom needs a place to sit if she stops by to eat.