Turkey Day: The before, during, and aftermath

One special thing about the last three days

is that grandchildren abounded on all three.

Bounced and bounded, too, but that's beside

the point.  While some of you are off at Black

Friday sales, I've babysat, done a few light

chores, and gotten in enough firewood to last

through the next cold snap.  Plus, I've loaded

pictures for the three blog posts I'm about to

assault you with.  If you're already on overload,

just bypass this and head on over to Facebook.

But you'll be missing a treat!

*( Pictures on this post are from Wednesday)

He will hereafter be known as Hopalong Hunter.
First time he's tried this horse outdoors (it's
domesticated, you see).  30 years ago, Jennifer and
Amanda clattered around the house on the same horse.

If you have enough drum sticks nobody has to be
left out.  Hunter sometimes gets too loud even for Bri!
But that's what garages are for.

Bri's at that age where she'd rather pull Hunter than
to be carried or pulled herself.  Thank you, Lord!
And Hunter says a nonchalant thank you, too.

We can stop any time, Hunter. . . Hunter??

After weeks of preliminary races with Hot Wheels
and balls, Hunter test drives his "snake on wheels."

Bri softly lullabies her Baby Caleb (named for her
sweetheart of a cousin) while she glides back and forth.

Hunter loves to look upside.  I hope a bird doesn't fly in!

Bri's not too proud to imitate her little brother.  Sometimes.

I guess these two are big enough to take Grandpa
Loyd's '73 Mercury on the road by themselves.
As long as somebody drives!

Don't worry, Grandpa.  I'm drivin.'  See?

After a while, Grandma and Bri head off on an excursion
to the stream.  Along the way, they stop for interesting sights.

Hunter decides he doesn't need to ride in the backpack
this time.  He's going to try to make the hike under his
own power.  Note to self: next time, bring the backpack!

Judy says this is a characteristic McKenzie family
posture for walking.  One thing's sure: nobody taught him.

Just before we get to Frog Hollow, I persuade Hunter
to try out this kid-size bench.  One of us needs a breather.

No, your friendly photographer didn't get to the stream
before the girls.  I took this shot when they were coming
back.  You see, we have two different bridges, and the kids
 like to go back and forth between them.  Many, many  times!
I'm not complaining.  I need the exercise, and I love their joy
at floating leaves down the stream and so forth.

Back at the house, they manufacture their own fun
again with Judy's laundry.  In fact, she often washes
and hangs out sheets on babysitting day purely because
the kids love to play amidst the laundry.

It's a miracle we don't have more head-on collisions.
They must have radar or something.

Bri accepts Grandma's offer to tow her to the prayer
garden, where they'll swing up a storm.  And just
maybe they'll see Kitty Cat.

In the garage, Hunter cuddles with Jennifer's vintage
stuffed Kangaroo.  I think it was a prize at the dentist
office 25 or more years ago.  What say you, Jennifer?
(And we've discussed getting rid of this more than once.)

Bri decides it's time to make a few notes in her journal.
Don't even think of breaking her secret code.

And now, Grandma, I'll help you color.
About 10 pictures should be enough.

Grandpa Loyd would certainly be pleased that
Hunter wants to play with those Orange Tail Thunderbolts
every single time he comes to the house these days.

The planes are highly breakable, but he is extremely
respectful of their delicacy.  Really cool.

Off we go, into the wild blue yonder . . . .

And after that flight a fella gets pretty hungry.
Better gas up and get ready for Grandpa's next blog!