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Every once in a while, someone requests that I put up a page listing all the animals, with their names and links to their stories, to help them keep things straight. That’s a big project, so I decided to break it down into “Cast of” posts. Cast of Goats. Cast of Sheep. Cast of Chickens. Etc. I decided to start with the people, mostly because it gave me an opportunity to dig up these photos from last fall that have never seen the light of day and also to prove once and for all that I actually have three children, not two.
Readers are often confused and think that Ross and Weston are the same person. I’ll post about one or the other, and people think I’m talking about the same boy.
Ross is my oldest. He’s the one who graduated high school last year and is going to boot camp in just a few weeks (June 17!) to become a Navy nuclear submariner. Last October, knowing Ross’s “childhood” days were numbered, I force marched them all into the woods on our farm for a lovely autumnal photo shoot with all three of them together as they might not so often be again.

Turns out, it’s just as difficult to photograph three teenagers as it is to photograph three toddlers.

It’s almost impossible to get them to all smile at the same time, look at the camera at the same time, not pinch each other at the same time.

Weston is just finishing 11th grade and he’s a football player. He’s the one with the cute vegan girlfriend. Morgan is….Morgan. She’s such a hoot and a troublemaker with her brothers, can’t you tell?

She’s also an adorable little photo poser. When she wants to be. Everyone loves her. She’s never met a stranger. She has the best personality of anyone I’ve ever met. She lives a charmed life. Except for the part where she has to be put up with me as her mother.
If you’re still confused, Weston is the one on the left in this photo (below). He’s a real nutball sometimes. He’s also brilliant. He is in the running to be one of this year’s semi-finalists for the National Merit Scholarship. Ross is the one in the center, wishing this photo session would either end or he could die. Ross is complicated and competent. If you must be stranded on a deserted island, take him with you. He can do MacGyver-type tricks. And he really does smile sometimes, and when he does, he has adorable dimples.

He’s not very patient, though, and because the photographing still hasn’t ended and because the experience is causing Ross such indescribable pain, Weston and Morgan are laughing at him. Because that’s what brothers and sisters are good for.

While I occasionally post about other friends and family members, I most often post about the following handful of people closest to me.
I often mention my cousin Mark, his wife, Sheryl, and sometimes their son, Madison, who is graduating high school this month and is one of Weston’s best friends. My cousin, Mark, is like my brother and he fixes my car and brings me antique butter churns and pasta makers from thrift stores. I bring him pepperoni rolls and cream cheese and let him make fun of me. His wife, Sheryl, is my best friend and like my sister. My dear friend, grandmother, guardian angel, pet, and nemesis is Mark’s mother, Georgia.

People often ask why I call my cousin’s mother “my cousin’s mother” instead of my aunt. Mark is actually my second cousin. Georgia isn’t my aunt. (Another mystery solved!)
I’m very lucky to have a lot of wonderful people in my life!
Oh–and then there’s me. But you already know all you need to know about me, right? If you don’t, there’s a whole page about me here. Sometimes I don’t wear pants. And this is my favorite photo ever taken of me.
You can read all my Country Living stories in my Country Living archives. (Try the “People” section for many of the stories about my friends and family.)
Posted by Suzanne McMinn on May 23, 2010Registration is required to leave a comment on this site. You may register here. (You can use this same username on the forum as well.) Already registered? Login here.
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"It was a cold wintry day when I brought my children to live in rural West Virginia. The farmhouse was one hundred years old, there was already snow on the ground, and the heat was sparse-—as was the insulation. The floors weren’t even, either. My then-twelve-year-old son walked in the door and said, “You’ve brought us to this slanted little house to die." Keep reading our story....
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Thanks for sharing your friends and family.
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Would Georgia be your great aunt, though?
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As always thanks for shareing your family with us.
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Hugs from
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Susan
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I’m wondering if Ross will be coming down my way when he joins the Navy. We got lots of Navy folks here (Norfolk-Virginia Beach area).
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Best wishes to all!
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