It's been a while since the Franks' fam has absorbed what life really is in a small town. But this week, we are getting all caught up on the machinations of Big Timber MT. This is what Saturday is like:
-I wake up, shower, and twist my hair into ringlets to let dry naturally. No makeup, no worries. Scott heads out to fish - the best place is by the city dump. I'm thinking that I don't want to eat those fish...
-The first of the relatives come over after visiting the Farmer's Market. The growing season is off to a slow start because no one has been able to pick any vegetables except for lettuce. Scott is back to dig for some night crawlers in Grandma's adorable garden that is filled with Montana wildflowers.
-More relatives come over (it is now 10 AM) and we all go sit out on the patio, enjoying the 65 degree temperature.
-Another relative comes over, with a friend who is polite enough not to ask about my hair but does notice that I am not from Montana. So I must still sound like an Okie, even though I live in Georgia...
-The first wave of relatives leave and Darby and Roxy start painting designs on Grandma's picnic table and benches. They have done this before, and Grandma loves it, so we do it some more. Roxy paints a rock to look like an owl and it's j'adorable.
-More relatives come over at 11, this time bringing small children and fireworks. My girls have never lit a firework in their lives, which is a sure sign of being a city kid. We light about two dozen smoke bombs and then the roving neighborhood kid that may or may not have a home comes over with loud and noisy rockets to shoot off.
-We manage to lose the neighbor kid, keep the relatives, and head inside for some lunch. Grandma and Darby have miraculously prepared a feast, so everyone is full now.
-Relatives head out about 2:00 and Scottie is back from the dump. He catches fish, but managed to lose some big ones. Yeah, right...fishermen can tell tales.
-One hour later, more relatives come, this time bearing food, fireworks, and a baby cousin we have never seen. Roxy and Darby are excited - new people to pester, new people for silliness. I am shocked to learn that the four month old has been potty training - with success. I realize that I am beyond hope for that type of attentive parenting. My 42 year old husband puts Black Cats into his army men and starts blowing them up. There is nothing like explosives to bring two grown boys/men together.
-Cousins enjoy each other, adults enjoy steaks and potato salad, I enjoy holding a baby again, cousins enjoy shooting their fireworks. Oh, and the wandering neighborhood kid is back again.
My conclusion: Saturday in this small town is even more exhausting than a Sunday morning church + potluck + small group at my house.
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