The summer after the Union tornado, I lived with Jennie and Dusty Hughes. At the time, they just had one kid: baby Hannah. Now Hannah is speaking Latin and reading The Hobbit, and three more kids (Seth, Micah, and Jonah) have joined the family. They’re my Jackson family, and they always make me feel totally welcome, despite the family habit of peeking around corners to stare at me with owl eyes. This tradition is, I feel compelled to mention, always initiated by the parents.
I also got to spend time with Bill and Sally Smith, Jennie’s parents. They were dear friends and pseudo parent/grandparents at Woodland. Since they moved to Jackson, I’ve only seen them at Jackson parties. The last four days, however, I got to have lunch at their house in a nice one-on-two conversation, and they stopped by the Hughes house every so often. It was nice to feel like they were just….around, and not so distant as to need specific visits.
But back to the Hughes family. They’re so weird, and I love it. Jonah, the youngest, toddles around on his own, content to move chairs and eat grapes and drive toy trucks. Continue reading