the good old days

it's tradition. we all make our way from separate lives to come together and be. it's been happening since before me, and being part of this tradition was make or break; labor day belongs to the gutshalls. period. not that i mind, the more i go the more i love this tradition. late night games, early morning fights over grandma b's homemade cinnamon rolls. (seriously she has to hide them.) they always talk about intense games of kick the can, although i've never been a part of it. long talks about life, usually interrupted by kids chasing each other through the living room. homemade ice cream and hopes of the feather bed. i think this is what is referred to as the good old days, and i happen to be living them.

it's pretty outstanding that four brothers and their families make the trip every single year just to be together. they may not be the family i grew up with, but i sure do love them every bit as much as my own. we laugh at each other, and if you can't take a joke, then stay away from uncle bill.