The other night Grandpa and Gigi hosted a "Barn Party." Which, in Texan-speak means we all got together and sat on hay bales, drank tea and cold coca-cola, and talked politics until the sun went down.
Thomas was a keynote speaker at the gathering. He was preaching to the masses about county-level control and constitutional government...all with a baby on his back.
Here's the crowd.
Riley wanted to go hear Papa speak but Papa told him he couldn't come out there until he was cleaned up and in nice clothes. He jumped in the shower and put on a polo shirt. When I showed up he told me, "Uh-oh! Mama, you need to look nicer. You should go back home." Guess my long stained skirt, tattered running shoes, a floral apron, and perpetual bed-head weren't gonna cut it. In the end, we agreed I looked just fine.
Riley and Abram watched and listened from the top of a round bale.
We're in Texas now, baby!