The Week in Review

The week in review in pictures:
Ben's wrestling meet last weekend: He was a little disappointed that he didn't win a single match. But his first match was really close and he lost 5-3. His second match, documented below, was frustrating to say the least. The kid repeatedly moved Ben's headgear across his eyes:


. . . and that really ticked him off. But the ref only called it once. And when he was being pinned,


. . . . it was still across the eyes. Ben has a very fine-tuned sense of justice, and the indignity of losing this way, and losing the last match of the year this way, was enough to send him crying in rage. But, true to normal Ben fashion, he looked at it in a realistic way: "This is only my first year, and by the time I'm in ninth grade, I'll have learned a ton. Now intramurals should be easy." That's my Ben, usually the optimist.


I bragged earlier about Brad's cauliflower and its spectacular size. Well, the proof is in the puddin'. Here's a visual of how beautiful his broccoli is as well. First, picture in your mind grocery store broccoli. Picture its size, shape, and color (feel like preschool yet?). Now look below:


Not half bad of the handsome man with the beard either! Gardening is his favorite hobby, one that rewards all our neighbors. His turnips are bigger than softballs, with greens as long as your arm.
For a better perspective on its true size, refer to lovely Vanna/Heidi below:

See? Truly bigger than her head. Half of one of these broccoli heads fills my entire soup pot. So, when you coming for dinner?

Brad's sister Nancy and her four boys have lived in our guesthouse for the past 9 months. I just wanted to give you a sneak peek on what it's like to have 12 kids in your family room for Family Home Evening:


And for that many kids, they were remarkably well-behaved.
(Side note: no, I did not wear those white tennies with my outfit that day. Earlier I was wearing some quite stylish heeled oxfords--reminiscent of my Grandma, Thaola Tucker--but I had removed them to make dinner. Then Roxy dog escaped, and I had to grab the closest shoes to chase her, lathered and riled, through the neighborhood, ferociously barking at every fenced dog in reach.)