Pretty Aunt Deanna, Bob and Jeff stayed with us for a week. Kat is in town as well.
It was a rare visit from our family on the west coast (Jeff lives in Maryland, but that's west in our book)
No one messes with Pretty Aunt Deanna. (She has insisted on that moniker for as long as I've known her. My Grandkids call her Pretty Grand Aunt Deanna.)
Bob helped me pick out a new grill. I don't need the Winnebago-sized grill that Bob owns, so we chose this compact beauty from Weber. It was preassembled because, quite frankly, I couldn't be bothered.
We had several nights around the fire, enjoying cocktails and each other's company.
We twisted Jen's arm to put on the tap shoes I gave her for Christmas to give us a show.
As you can see, she's reluctant to really let herself loose.
The smoke from the fire pit added a cool backdrop.
Uh oh. Our tap dancer is going down. Woodman the Beaver may or may not have tripped her up.
A tapper is down! I repeat, a tapper is down.
Fear not, Jennie quickly recovered to finish the routine. A true pro.
Even Bob got into the groove.
I love this picture.
I hear the snake charmer song when I look at this picture.
More to come from our fun family follies.
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