The last speckled doves

My dad’s refusal to deviate from holiday tradition engendered yet another Christmas card photo shoot– and as I just realized, probably my last.  Despite my and my mom’s pragmatic attempts to deter the tradition (i.e. the cards are expensive, people look at the card for a split second and then throw it away, we kids aren’t cute any more…), we were inevitably overridden by my dad, who is– not necessarily in a negative way– hidebound in regards to holiday customs.  So, over Thanksgiving break, we found ourselves posing on the cliffs and trying to “act natural” amidst the chaparral-like brush and insect-infested trees.

This is basically all we could get.

Thumbs up?  Is that a cry of approval I hear?  I know that you would be ecstatic to open the envelope and pull out a photo of Connor’s schmexy bare chest (to clear things up, this was all his idea).  Unfortunately, we need to keep the Christmas card PG, so you’ll be looking at a different photo come late December.

This was a poor excuse for a blog post, but I promise I’ll redeem myself next time.  So long.

*Post title from “The Giant of Illinois” by The Handsome Family/Andrew Bird


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