Final Score: Matt kicked our butts.

Ok.  If this is your first time checking in today, you need to scroll down and read parts 1 and 2 of the Easter’09 saga.  We’ll wait.

All caught up?  Good good.  That brings us to…

Part Three: Newland Easter.

Newland Easters start like non-Newland Easters.  There’s a ham.  And deviled eggs.  Jello.  Rolls.  This year there was asparagus, and it was awesome.

It’s after the food is all gone that we really make Easter our own.  When we are all full and slow, it’s time for Newland Golf (patent pending.)  Newland Golf is simple.  We raid Poppy’s golf clubs, dump a bag of whiffle balls out on the lawn, and golf around the house.  Start in the back, up the side, across the front, down the other side and back to where you started.  The last shot has to go over the bench my Grandparents have that circles a big tree. 

Years ago, Poppy and Dad started going *over* the house.  This is, frankly, unfair, and led to my Dad’s unbeatable score of 4.  Once over, once back, once to line it up, once over the bench.  Honestly, where is the fun in that?  Where is the challenge of getting around the palms on the side of the house?  The drama that ensues when you accidentally land *on* the driveway and watch your ball roll down and into the street?  The thrill of “positioning” your ball more favourably with your foot when nobody is watching?  (Oh, is that just me?  Miss you, Kim.)

This year we introduced the kiddos to the sport.  V had a teenager moment right before we started, and spent the first half of the game inside.  Jonas, however, was veeery enthusiastic.

At one point there were tears, and Uncle Matt said “There’s no crying here!  Tiger Woods doesn’t cry when he misses!”  Have I mentioned lately what an excellent addition to the family that man is?  Nice work, Aunty Suz.

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The players were Uncle Aaron, Uncle Matt, Jonas, and me.  Apparently, the girls are in charge of supervising the game these days, but nobody clued me in on that.  Hmm.

Uncle Matt went over the house.  Honestly – there may have to be a rule against players with actual golf experience.  Only mini-golfers, please.

Uncle Aaron spent his first 6 strokes bouncing the ball around, but not actually moving forward. It was a beautiful thing.

Jonas was experiencing technical difficulties.  Every time he connected with the ball the head of his club flew off.  Once it hit me on the butt, we went for duct tape.  Uncle Matt fixed it, as he had tons of free time.  It took Aaron and I something like 13 strokes to get to where he landed on his first one, so he was the obvious choice for club-repair-guy.

Somewhere in there, Violet came out and wanted to be a part of it all.  Aunty Suz handed her my camera, and a new official family photographer was born (seriously – all of the following {plus approx 78 more} pics were taken by the Twink.  I love them.)

 

 

She took a few action shots, but mostly she liked close-ups of everyone. 

 

Which is exactly how I usually take pics, too.

 

I am crazy about these photos.  I especially love how they are all from a waist-high perspective.

 

And this one of  Aunt Melissa cracks me up, because it was like the 14th one of her in the set.  By now she has this great “Whyyyyy is that kid pointing the camera at me again?” face.  You’re a good sport, Melissa.  (Well, not at golf.  Really, would it have killed you and Suz to play?  Is there a rule against Aunt participation that I am unaware of? Sheesh.)

 

Last one and my favorite. Really captures just how much fun Newland Golf is.  You all know you’re jealous.

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After that, she went inside and took this picture of the cake –

 

 

She was cranky that all her cake pics came out a little blurry.  I guess if she’s going to be the official photographer someone will have to explain the use of the flash to her.

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And that is when I wrestled my camera back away from her so I could take flattering photos of everyone stuffing their faces with Carvel goodness (few things say “He is risen!” like frosting-covered ice cream in the shape of a bunny.)

 

 

 

From now on, I point the camera and ask everyone to say cheese.  I took 6 pictures of this side of the table and this was the best, least embarassing to everyone one of the bunch.  At least everyone’s mouth is closed (except for Madam’s – but that’s because she never closes it.)

 

This side is better, but I suspect it’s because Suz is faking being unaware of the camera.  I think that “Isn’t he cute” face is there on purpose so I won’t get a shot of her shovelling a big bite of crunchies in.  She’s tricky like that.

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And that was Easter.  We dragged ourselves home, watched Monster House, (sooooooo Eastery!) ate jellybeans and leftover fettuccine for dinner, and you already heard the part about me passing out on the (very short) couch.  I don’t know how we’ll possibly top this for excitement next year.

Ooh, and if you wanted to know the golf score – Matt 5 (6? Something ridiculously low – over the house both ways.)  Aaron and I tied at 20 (there was a dance-off.  I won.)  Jonas eleventy-billion.  Good times.

 

 

We have to wait HOW LONG to do all this again?