Wednesday, July 2, 2008

The Family That Went to Yellowstone

This is my very cute mommy at our campground in Yellowstone, yes, *standing* on the edge of the fire pit. When questioned about her daring behavior, she replied with a nonchalant shrug, "Well, I'm cold..." Daddy keeps watch protectively.

This is my very cute napping daddy. Just call him Indiana Jones.

James the Flying Camper! Check out the air he's catching here!

Jonathan follows suit in the four-year-old way. Mighty jumper!

Kiss the cook! (That's me and my honey, of course. You couldn't tell?)

Mom and I discuss the deeper meaning of life around a smoking fire pit.

Small child passionately kisses mommy on nose. Mommy melts into pile of mush.

The second morning was a little colder, so the blankets were wrapped a little tighter, and the fire was a little bigger. Actually, what I mean to say is...there actually *was* a fire...

Me and my mom attempt to master the ol' digital self-portrait.

Look at my adorable parents!! Aren't they so great? They've been best friends for forty years now. I'm so proud of their strong marriage. It's one of the greatest blessings of my life.

Doesn't this look like a CD cover from 1990? But it's not. It's really my two sons, begging me to take a picture of themselves on top of these rocks to show to their new buddy, about whom you will be learning in the next post. I can't wait to tell you!

James loves Yellowstone!

Jonathan loves Yellowstone!

We all love Yellowstone! There's my mom, James, my Jeff, Jonathan, and me. You can't tell, but we're gazing with great awe and reverence at one of the waterfalls in the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone. One of the natural wonders of the world. Really beautiful. But instead of showing you pictures of that, I've opted to show instead my wacky family.

We found a picnic table overlooking Yellowstone Lake and the very tall mountains behind it. Here's us, here's our picnic stuff, here's the lake, here are the mountains. And here's a big, tall tree.

You can't tell, but this log I'm sitting on stretches across a cliff sort of thing, and my feet are dangling above open air. Nothing between me and the water, 20 feet below. Yep, living dangerously. That's me. Hey! I'm a cliffhanger!