Seventeen

“Every so often, go where you can hear a screen door slam.”

I think the reason my family loves Butler so much is that nobody can find us there.

We celebrated Bee’s 17th birthday by cooking fried chicken the old-fashioned way in Crisco; every bit of artery-clogging, greasy goodness that I expected. Nini’s famous homemade strawberry cake sent us over the edge into a food coma that lasted until this morning.

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2 thoughts on “Seventeen

  1. Awesome! I wanna fish in that pond and I can smell the chicken and hear the grease bubbling. I love the stories that your pictures tell.

  2. I love all your pictures, especially the one of your grandpa in the rocking chair on the porch with the dog in his lap. It doesn’t get much better than that!

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