Our kids are getting a little superstitious about camping in the backyard. Carl, who wants the final limbs of the poor ash tree to fall down, keeps asking to camp in the backyard again.
I try not to encourage him since this storm cost us a new roof.
The Finch's not only outnumber the Hackett's, they also outweigh them. Everyone had a great time regardless. And I'm pretty sure that Carl spent the whole time practicing his somersaults. He's the one in the Argentina jersey close to the ground. I'm sure that one day he will be our secret weapon.





















































