the Newton family gathered to celebrate my Grandma LaMarr's 95th birthday.
Ninety-five years.
She's in a season of transition right now, so my mom and Aunt Nancy have been going through closets and drawers filled with an entire lifetime. It's amazing how something as ordinary as a recipe card, an old apron, or a coffee can full of buttons can stop you in your tracks.
Every little thing has a story attached to it (which my Grandma can't remember now, of course)
The gift wasn't just celebrating Grandma that weekend though—it was that every single cousin made it. Even the ones from California and Texas. As adults with busy lives, jobs, kids, and calendars, we somehow all found our way back to the farm.
We ate fried chicken at a potluck (as any respectable Nebraska family should), wandered around the property, and laughed ourselves through decades of memories. I think it was originally a schoolhouse before my grandparents renovated it after they got married in the '50s. Then they raised five kids here. Five kids in a 2 bedroom, 1 bath farmhouse.
Somewhere along the way we've convinced ourselves that bigger is always better. Bigger houses. Bigger schedules. Bigger goals. But standing there, I couldn't help thinking that love doesn't seem to care much about square footage.
That little house built an enormous family.
As I drove home, I kept thinking about what we're all building with the lives we've been given.
We're busy chasing careers, renovating homes, filling calendars, buying things we swear will make life easier. None of those things are bad. But someday, people won't gather to remember what we owned. They'll remember how we made them feel.
Whether our home felt welcoming.
Whether we showed up.
Whether we made time.
Grandma and Grandpa probably never imagined that one day a yard full of grown grandchildren would be wandering around telling stories about that little house. Fuck - they didn't have TIME to.
They were just busy building a simple life together. Turns out, that was the biggest thing they ever built.
we five
Along one of the windbreaks sits an old storage shed that my mom and her siblings claimed as their clubhouse. At some point, they spray-painted "WE FIVE" across the door using a homemade stencil.
The second I saw it, I had that familiar gut feeling: I need a picture of all five of them right here.
As if on cue, Aunt Nancy was just pulling out of the driveway. I flagged her down and waved her back in.
I've learned to trust those little nudges. I've never once regretted stopping everything to make a photograph.
circa 1960s
June 2026
and then a cousin staycation
lincoln, ne
It's kind of fun to be a visitor in your own city. So we also squeezed in a little staycation with our California cousins while they were back. We gave them a tour of our new place + studio, then spent the day wandering around Lincoln. My cousin, Andrea, is from Omaha but never spent any time at all growing up in our capital city, just 45 minutes away, and obviously her husband Andy (from Michigan) and their two kids have never been either. The rain tried its best to derail our plans, but it turns out good conversations don't care about the weather. And I have to say... the Graduate Hotels are quickly becoming one of our favorite places to stay.