If you have consciously or serendipitiously arrived here, welcome. I’m Fran, aka Redondowriter, and my interests include family, friends, writing, reading, art, computers, storytelling, spirituality, photography, animals—and exploring the layers of everyday life.
Last week was my grandson Henry's sixth birthday. He's on the left and his brother Fritz, who will turn five in September, is on the right. Birthdays, especially for the little ones, are always so darned exciting, aren't they?
As I celebrate each grandchild's birthday (and my grandkids range from 10 months to 22 years old), memories of my own children's birthdays always flood my mind.
The thing I remember from my own kid birthdays growing up is that usually my sisters, all much older than I was, came bearing gifts. And, my mom always let me choose what I wanted for dinner. When I was little, I always wanted Campbells Chicken Noodle soup. When I was a little older, I always wanted tamales.
This is Henry and Fritz's dad's fourth birthday. Tony fell asleep after his party on our sofa. Can you tell it's 1971 from the color of the sofa and the shag rug on the floor?
The clarity of this photo isn't like a digital, but can you see the resemblance between dad and sons?
How blessed I am to have six healthy and incredibly lively grandkids. And when I'm asked what my greatest accomplishment has been in my life I immediately say, "Being mom to Joe, Christy and Tony."