A big dose of family, a birthday, and a dog

The Alter en masse

Catching up with UncleMark

We had a glorious family reunion this weekend at my oldest son’s house in Tomball to celebrate his 50^th birthday. Twenty-four of us—my clan of sixteen; the New York Alters which includes Uncle Mark and Aunt Amy, two daughters, and three grandchildren young enough to still care about hunting for Easter eggs; and my children’s half-sister from California. High times as we caught up and repeated family stories, all the while sitting on an arbor-covered patio by a small lake.

Colin’s house is a little bit of heaven—a mid-century modern structure set on two-plus acres tucked away down a bumpy dirt road, with lots of trees, including some fruit-bearing, and either the smallest lake or biggest pond in Texas. The barn is used for storage, and the riding arena for basketball and other non-arena activities (there is a riding stable next door) but both can be re-purposed someday.. I think my favorite spot in the world these days is in a rocker by the lake at twiligh

Fishing was a big thing. Jacob abandoned his cousins (several are all about the same age) to stand alone on the lake’s bank, casting his lure. His California aunt, Dylan, joined him frequently, and he was as excited as anybody when she reeled in the catch of the day—what appeared to be about a four-pound bass. He came running and posed for a picture with her, but he also caught some good-sized ones on his own. Three boy cousins and one girl spent the night on an enclosed trampoline. They’ve tried this two or three times before, and something always chased them inside, but last night they stayed and slept until six in the morning. Yes, Jacob slept part of the way home.

Colin’s wife, Lisa, had done a might work of preparing for this weekend. We were well-fed, with fajitas Friday night and barbecue Saturday night, plus chips, veggies, dips, and the like out all during the day. We dined at three long picnic tables pushed together down by the lake, and the tables were decorated with mason jars holding on spikes pictures from Colin’s life—mostly his childhood. Colin on his Shetland, Charlie Brown; Colin with his cousins; Colin in the North Carolina snow wearing plastic bags on his feet (age two) because he didn’t own boots; an adult Colin just after finishing a half-marathon. For me, each picture brought a twinge of memory—a bit of missing for all the good days gone by, in spite of the wonderful present.

It was also a dog weekend. A stray came up to the patio for the second day in a row. I thought he was a pit bull but wiser heads said he’s an American bulldog. Uncle Mark swore he materialized out of the lake and was an evil spirit. In truth, he was a very young and lonely dog hungry for affection. Colin soon gave up attempts to shoo him away, and Dylan reached out to him until he lost his scared. Our family predicts the Tomball Alters will have a second dog. Jordan named him John Doe, which may or may not get changed to Johnboy or J.D. Colin’s dog, Gracie, was not entirely happy about this intruder.

We are all home now, and the weekend is but a happy memory, but we’ll each treasure that memory. Sophie was ecstatic to see us come home, and for all the fun I had, I was glad to be with her again.

Just realized this post has no picture of the birthday boy, so here he is with his dog, Gracie.