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i love that my nephews are such boys.
i mean like classic; dirty jeans, kind of smelly, always digging or building or climbing or eating. or playing baseball.
mason, age 7. carson, almost 9.
on a kind-of related topic, i've been gone a lot lately, traveling. so i haven't been around for a lot of the usual family stuff. i called my sister - carson and mason's mom - a couple weeks ago while i was in florida. they were on their way to my parent's house for sunday dinner. she handed the phone back to Carson, he asked me if I was going to be at Grandpa and Grandma's house.
I told him "no, i'm sorry. i'm in florida, buddie."
he was kind of mad at me. he'd never given me the 'cold shoulder' before - i didn't even knew he knew how to - but he was obviously upset with me for not being there.
which killed me. i'm usually around for everything.
but i thought about it some more, and realized how glad i am that i'm close enough to my nieces and nephews to where it matters to them if i'm not there.
furthermore, that i'm close enough for them to be mad at me. i loved all my aunts and uncles growing up, but i would never really note the absense of one of them. and i would never ever be affected enough to give them the cold shoulder.
so, i appreciated carson's cold shoulder.
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|   meet carson, my 8 year old nephew, and my first love.
i just want to talk about him for a little bit.
carson was my introduction to that painful kind of love that you instantly have for someone the first time you see them,
brand new, just out of the womb (is that gross?).
i remember holding him for the first time and saying "ouch, i love him".
he doesn't call me 'aunt tessa' very often, and i like it. just tessa.
i call him hodge. i always have, i have no idea why.
carson is the kindest boy you'll ever meet. he'll shake your hand when he meets you, ask you about yourself, and hold his own in the conversation.
it's a beautiful combination of confidence, and this extremely colorful enthusiasm he has about life.
he's convinced he has the best life ever; he mostly credits his big wooded back yard, and basketball hoop in the driveway.
carson is an athlete. he is an exceptional baseball player (seriously). plays basketball, too.
he's the kind of boy who knows the batting stance of every player for the cubs, and mimics
them during his little league games. he likes talking sports, too. especially with dorian.
i've noticed he's developed a little bit of a tough guy exterior in the 2nd grade.
i don't like it, but i know it's part of the extremely long process of him figuring out,
and deciding , who he is. but i have to admit, when i kissed him goodbye to catch my flight
to kansas city, he did a really bad job of hiding his quivering lips, and i loved it.
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|  elliott samantha konc, age 3. niece. (look at how long her fingers are) | | |
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my bike.
 the church my favorite tree the alps the church doors.
These are the first pictures i ever took. an old pentax from the 70's. like most people, i got mine from my dad.
directly following high school, i studied for six months in northern italy, in a tiny
vinyard town with one bar, one fountain, one church, and 200 old
people. a two mile walk or bike ride to the next town, Casarsa, you
could take 45 minute train to veince, from where you could take a train
anywhere else. which i did a lot of on the weekends, usually alone, and always happy to be so.
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