It’s crisp and cool this morning, with a bright sun shining its blessings down on all of us.
This past Saturday, I attended the Lael Family Reunion in Colville, Washington (for those of you who don’t live around these here parts, it’s pronounced CALLville, not Coalville.) There was the usual laughter–the Laels are a witty bunch, inclined to laugh even through their tears. My cousin Dave, the MC, told his jokes. (Some of them, Dave, were even funny.) The senior Lael sibs all read a poem or sang a song–it’s still strange that Uncle Wes isn’t there, with his silly hats and his bed-pan banjo. Uncle Jack, a famous rodeo cowboy in his time, is confined to a nursing home now. When I went to see him, he greeted me with that old crooked grin of his and said, “Is the romance-writin’ racket still being good to you?” I was happy to tell him it sure is. My cousins, who were kids yesterday, all seem to be grandparents now–there was a tribe of little Laels running around. My sisters, Sally and Pam, both attended, as did my mother, Hazel. Dad, being one of the original Lael brood, was there, of course, with his cowboy hat and his friendly smile.
So here’s MY personal weather report. Clear, grateful skies. And if the clouds roll in, I know what to do. Laugh.
Because I am a Lael.