Red, White & Blue Threads

                                

    

                              

                               

Decades ago Dennis announced the goal of wanting to run the Peachtree Road Race with each of his children. Being the eternal optimist, I mentioned that our youngest would possibly have to push him in the wheelchair race by the time we reached that mile-marker. He showed me! Not only has Dennis suited up with each of the children numerous times, he also cajoled me into taking on the 10K with them a couple of years before I hung up my Adidas. Been-there-done-that-don't-actually-wear-t-shirts-anyway, thank you, I decided I would stick with running the family circus.

                              

                 

                 

And the race goes on. Participants that come from around the world to run the Peachtree have increased to upwards of 55,000 runners. Our family size has multiplied, too, and while we continue to supply race participants, the number of Scheidtlings logging those kilometers varies from year to year. Still, we consistently do our best to perpetuate Red, White & Blue Brunch traditons with family and friends that link us across time and space when we cannot be together. I can almost always count on someone asking for a family favorite recipe a day or two ahead of the holiday.  (How long did it take me to learn that I could text a pic of the recipe instead of laboriously pecking it out in a Word document ?! Duh. Technology does actually work for me sometimes.) 

                    

So where are all those little worker bees who rolled the dough balls to make monkey bread and were begging to grate the cheese for breakfast pizza?  Back in those days, it took twice as long to accomplish the task with the children's "help". Whoever said, "many hands make light work", never had a half-dozen kiddos with their fingers in the pie. And even though there were plenty of moments when I was not perfectly patient, we share happy memories of those labor-intensive preparations that were a family-affair. 

                    

                    

                   

 Echoes of yesteryear thread their way through our Fourth. Phone calls and texts & viber messages from the other side of Atlanta (and the world) testify to bicycle parades and cinnamon rolls being woven into the fabric of another generation of children making childhood memories. 

                               

                              

The baton is passed. Aunt Josie, the "baby" of the pack of Scheidtling runners, lends a shoulder to the youngest family member who tried so hard but cannot quite stay awake for the fireworks. 

PS Two of these siblings are training for a marathon. Guess who?