Oftentimes summers make me weary of the word family; however, last week I remembered why family is to be revered.
The whole gang from Nebraska flew in early last week and took part in a crazy scheduled 10 days of phoenixing.
As a loud group of twelve we road the lightrail, celebrated fathers in hard rock cafe, shopped in hippie gypsy, floated down the salt river, slid down big surf, and drove as tourists to the high country. With cameras in hand and tennis shoes laced we traveled up to one of my favorite places on earth, Cottonwood. Only one of the great things about this town is it is fifteen minutes from the spiritual escape of Sedona’s red rocks and a half way point to the Grand Canyon.
The week was exhausting, but every minute was a treasure. My grandma is a woman of admirable emotional strength. My aunt is the same aunt I remember at age 7, but now with a canon. My uncle loves making friends in hardware stores. My cousins- kylie and paige- are beyond the level I thought I was as a junior higher and above what I thought was possible when it come to “boy crazy”. Austin has horrible music taste and a sickening mind, but is still the fun blue eyed cousin. Ashlyn is growing up too fast.
The plane returned them all to the land of the Cornhuskers and we are now trying to get back to normal summer life.
End Notes: Public Enemies is tonight, midnight showing. I really need a telephoto lens. Lightrooming is becoming a habit.