|Tristan - acting evil.|
Our family loves to dress up.
Maybe that's the reason we love theatre so much.
It's legal there . . .
For my husby and I, it started in our respective childhoods.
We carried it, happily, into our own family.
Through the years, any excuse to dress up was instantly seized.
St. Patrick's Day.
As I said, any excuse.
Our costume collection grew apace (real word).
In no time, it outgrew the large cardboard box that I had originally stuffed things into and into its own room.
The kids spent many, many happy hours in that room, playing dress-up.
As they grew, so did their costumes, becoming more elaborate and detailed.
Bunnies, ladybugs and clowns became Elizabethan gowns and chain mail.
And I mean real chain mail.
The room that holds the costumes now is bigger than our first living room.
Our neighbourhood has grown accustomed to seeing our family traipsing around, dressed . . . unusually.
And now our grandchildren have caught the spirit.
Sometimes, good things are passed down through the generations . . .
|Queen of Hearts|
|And yes, that's real chain mail. He knits it . . .|
|Expecting their/our first child/grandchild|
|A night in Bethlehem|
|Notice the backpack. Authentic in every way! Not!|
|My Husby as Teddy Roosevelt|
|Passing it on to the next generation . . .|
|Yes. They are PJ's|