In 1917 …

… this group of hooligans couldn’t be imagined.

No one had an inkling they’d some day come to be.  No one could have imagined so many blonde-haired (and a brunette!), blue-eyed ornery wonders.

It’s thanks to this lady that they’re here today.

Happy birthday, Grandma Sara.

Thanks for birthin’ my mama … thanks for keeping my siblings and I on a straight and narrow course, or at least trying to.

Thanks for the sleepovers and cinnamon applesauce and Nutter Butters and new dresses for piano recitals. Thanks for the notes of encouragement and wisdom that arrived regularly while I attended college … and for every important event and period in my life.

Thanks for loving me for 35 years.

And thank you for loving this barefoot brigade …

… even if you don’t always remember their names or know who they belong to, they can feel your love. It seeps out of the very ground on which we walk.

And they love you, too.

Especially when there’s cake!