A Grand Celebration, part one

Mom is turning ninety.

Family came from near and far to gather for the grand celebration. And a grand celebration it was. This weekend was all about the love. 

Grandparents, parents, grandchildren, siblings, cousins, nieces and nephews, sons and daughters, aunts and uncles, great grandchildren. All gathered together to pay honor to a simply wonderful woman.
On the trip out west, I was thinking about all the photos I wanted to take. I decided I was going to get a photo of every single person with Mom. By themselves, no one else. Just them and Mom.

My sissy-in-law, B, was a great help getting everyone to come get their picture taken. When she snagged J to come over, he said, "Okay, where do you want me? Do I sit on Grandma's lap?"

His grandmother burst into laughter. She loves J and enjoys his sense of humor so much. I've seen this face many times over the years as she laughed at something or other he would say. Especially when it came to the wooden snake.

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A few years ago Grandma got an articulated wooden snake from somewhere. J found it one afternoon. He hid the snake so she would find it at some unsuspecting time. She eventually found it and let out a blood curdling yell when she did. Once she saw that it was not real, she and J had a good laugh over it and the game commenced. 

They take turns hiding it on one another. 

Periodically, we hear a random scream and know that one of them has found the snake. They love this game. It never gets old.

Except one of them has hidden the snake so well that it hasn't turned up in several months. I'm just waiting for a scream.
Auntie J and this little bit had so. much. fun.

Little bit was thrown up into the air over and over and over. Giggles and chortles the entire time. Little bit is absolutely precious and I think I took 212,453 photos of her.

Seriously cute.
I asked Mom and sissy in law B to hold hands. 

Just because.

There's something about holding hands that brings out the love.
The whole bunch of us.

Love these people. Mean it.

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