kids play bocce ball

— 1 — It’s been too long, Jen & crew! I’m back. Quick taking it. In seven. Really it’s all about the bocce ball. So go here to Bridget talking about taming the toddler instead. Or here to Christy and see what she’s been reading. Britt made pecan pie muffins. I just died from joy. Speaking of death by food, did you know Laurel had a food blog??? //// Back to bocce ball game from h-e-double hockey  sticks. My dad plays it every late afternoon with the old geezers in the neighborhood. But when the owner of the set leaves town, he is the keeper. Enter: my children who watch the guys play now get to play. It’s intense. She wants to measure. He wants to measure. He wants both pagnigno (spelling whatever) balls. Imagine their reactions. Imagine the croc tears.   — 2 — — 3 — More fighting. I wish I could say his pained expression is fake. It’s real. So much more where that came from. — 4 — She takes off. With the yellow ball. Her fav. Her coveted. Her precious. Insert Gollum here. — 5 — And he wins. He beat himself. Record, really. Those lovely blueberry bushes? Didn’t produce a da*n blueberry this year. We need to recheck our acidity in the soil. Did that sound like I know what I’m talking about? Because I don’t. But overhead AA telling my dad that. — 6 — She was thoroughly unimpressed. — 7 — It…