Becky and I went to Houston to spend the holiday with her family. We had dinner at Gramsy's house but because of a dead camera battery I wasn't able to take any pictures. We spent the night at Aunt Barbara's farm (18 dogs, 6 cats, several chickens, a goat, a horse and much, much more!) and had lunch the next day with Grandmother where I was introduced to the fine sport of "pitching washers". It sounds simple - throw a 3" diameter washer at a hole in the ground 21 feet away - but it takes years to master.
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