My sister and I are 22 months apart. We grew up on five acres of woodland with no neighbors in sight, so needless to say, we were each other's playmate and best friend.
There have been a couple of moments this past week that have caused me to reminisce more than usual about growing up on those five acres with my older sister. Jen, walk with me down memory lane!
Yesterday, Luke and I hiked back behind our house (which, believe it or not, sits on the same five acres — now developed by my dad — on which we grew up) and happened upon some early, ripe blackberries. Remember how many buckets of blackberries we would pick? Remember getting scratched up by the blackberry thorns? Your nephew thought fresh-picked blackberries were pretty fantastic as well, evidence by his purple-stained lips:
My sister and I both took gymnastics for many years. Before it became all about pressure and perfection, gymnastics was just plain fun! We would play a game on the trampoline called "P or N" ("P" for pass and "N" for no — not kidding, this is really what we called it. Please don't judge our creativity on this game's name). Basically, one person would make up a gymnastics move and then we would take turns repeating that skill until the other person gave you a "P" for doing it perfectly. You had to stay on that skill until you got a "P".
And oh, the gymnastics/dance routines we would make up in our basement.
Remember that metal bar in downstairs hallway? The one we used as a bar? How could a 24" piece of metal generate so much fun?
I know I am his mother, but look at these photos and tell me if you also think Luke has a flair for all things tumbling and flipping:
I love you, Jenny!
