Saturday, September 13, 2008

The Church Picnic

Hello Everyone,

A day of great fun, food, and fellowship! -- that describes the yearly church picnic. Enjoy! (It was a mistake to write this introduction last: I have already said, in the captions, everything that I could think of, and, after captioning all those pictures, my mind refuses to come up with anything fresh. I think your best option is to move on to the photos as quickly as possible.)
Hopeland Park - the scene of the annual, and much
anticipated, Church Picnic.

Dad decided to make BBQ'd chicken for this years picnic.

Grilled chicken art. I think it would look a little more appetizing
if it had been grilled longer; at this point the chicken looks decidedly raw.

Candace's suggested caption: "the grillmaster"
All I can say is he's dedicated-even to the the point of sacrificing his pants.

Dad expounds on the fine art of grilling chicken.
Mom has heard it all before. ;-)

After all the work that went into preparing this big wheel for the
picnic, I had to take a picture of the proud owner. The day before the
picnic Clayton and Christian were outside scrubbing it til it shown.

Did you ever attain equilibrium on a seesaw?
Hey, we had to do something until everyone finally arrived!

I know this photo might have some faults, but I liked it
and I decided to post it and, afterall, it is my blog!

Karen, one of the faithful Einwechter crew who make sure
that such necessities as plates and napkins are not forgotten.

A conversation I was having was interupted by one of my siblings, who informed me
of the immediate photographic opportunity that a butterfly sitting on Faith's shoulder afforded. That is what I get for telling my brothers and sisters to let me know when something photo-worthy is going on.

Two sisters who I am honored to call my friends!

More friends.

Can't you just hear Mr. Oberholtzer telling one of his stories. :)

Among the youngest generation, this is definitely one of the favorite places.
Among the older generation, it is perhaps the most dreaded!

I imagine that he is wishing he could be down there too.
The gourmet poultry is fit for consumption!
For those of you with small vocabularies, "the chicken is done."

There seems to always be one picture that I am at a loss to know how to caption, unless, of course, you want me to say something dull like "grabbing the chicken with a salad tongs."

A classic moment. Every adult or older sibling who has helped a young child
thruogh a food line knows what is going on. You look down so that you can see the child's face and you ask "some of this?"

Someone not pictured: "Mr. Jackson are you aware that this chicken came from Denver Wholesale Foods?" Dad tries to get Mr. Jackson's attention to deny the rumor, but Mr. Jackson is hopelessly distracted.

Mr. Raine, a great chef.

More children succumbing to the charms of the creek.
After lunch, the men and boys were swordfighting.
(Only the male mind could come up with such an idea:)

Josiah apologetically explains that you are not actually allowed to kill your opponent.

The fight for the bridge begins...

...reaches its peak...

...and the winning side drives the enemy off the bridge.

No one thinks that little guy should help.

Defiance and determination.

Three against three.

Two against one - no fair! they're ganging up on my brother!

Mr. Einwechter substitutes as photographer while his sons fight. Now I am positive that photography runs in that family's blood.

The first of our two traditional games.

The ball is going the wrong direction and we just all stand and gawk at it.

No, I am not as naive as you might think to post a picture like this.
I was about to delete it when the fancy that this is how a volleyball game
might appear to the ball, struck me.

Choosing teams for kickball - the second annual game.

Plain n' simple: the field as seen through the wire.

Up to kick.

Go sis!

The same thing that was going on in the previous photo.
Call it repetition if you want to.

The spectators - as much a part of the tradition as the game itself.

Mrs. Einwechter, our faithful scorekeeper.

I can reuse a caption!: "Go sis!" (She made it across home plate.)

The prize for dirtiest clothes would have to go to this young man.
In the words of his sister, "I couldn't believe he was going to wear white
pants to the church picnic!"

Things you find sticking in the ball diamond's fence.

Evidence of thirst.

When Dad is distracted by his blackberry and when he has captured
the kick ball, we children know that the end is near. :(