We went up to the Biggs’ Family Reunion this last week (Dad’s Mother’s side).  As expected, there were a lot of people I didn’t know, and just as many I only vaguely remembered.  I guess I’m bad at networking, even when it’s my own extended family.  Then again, I’m currently hiding from my nuclear family in the basement, so judge if you must.

I suppose that, when the world ends, we should know our kin, so that our collective clan can band together against violent wasteland raiders.  Blood ties!

Amusingly, few of my photos involved this extended family, but rather the activities, so I present to you a montage summary:

The rainbow was a sign…that it would be really hot and humid while we all posed for that group photo
A goby–apparently an invasive species that have to be euthanized upon catching (killed with the Mora)
Dad’s fish–I don’t remember what it was
One of Leigh’s many catfish, which we cleaned and tried to eat, but they tasted like the bottom of the channel in which they were caught. Pity.
My cousin, Jonathan. We give his family a lot of grief for disliking the outdoors, but here’s proof that he had fun anyway.
A catfish of my own
A trip to the Toledo Zoo
More fishing
I caught a nice bass
Look at that packed Honda. That’s a commercial-worthy photo there.



I’m failing on today’s post, but I’m damn tired.  And Sea of Thieves just came out, so I’m expending my energies elsewhere.



It is the end of the Faye era.

Faye–whippet prime, succumbed to a digestive problem and had to be euthanized.  Being unable to absorb a critical protein, her muscle mass wasted away until she became immobile.  It was heartbreaking to watch, as up until the end, she wanted to be a whippety whippet and go running.  But as the pain eroded her humor and patience, the whippet we knew had already started to depart.

I buried her during a week of record-breaking rainfall, which seemed appropriate, alongside Tori, who had just passed the prior autumn.

Faye was a symbol, that Liz and I were deliberately choosing a life together.  We moved into an apartment, and shortly thereafter purchased Faye.  At the time I had no idea what a whippet was, but it sure set a precedent.  Faye was amusingly regal at times, yet still doggy at others.  And when the kid was born, an innate and deeply-buried instinct kicked in and she became the family guardian, growling at people she didn’t know.

She moved with us through three apartments, and finally got the house and whippet patch she deserved.  The timing was fortunate, as we can now lay her to rest in her own land.

So long Faye.  Say hi to Tori.