Indian Princesses

The park has been "invade" by three tribes of indian princesses and their dads--about 125 princesses and an equal number of fathers. It has been a fast, fun,  active, and noisy weekend!
Matthew and I did a number of campground cruises to make sure everyone was registered, that all four wheels of every vehicle were on the pavement, and that bathrooms had enough toilet paper.
(Mind you, if there were any infractions of the rules, our trusty and all-around-great law enforcement officer, Jacob, would ticket the offender.  He has clout!)  Happily, his writing hand wasn't too busy.  This is a well-mannered large group.
This morning one of the younger pink-clad-pony-tailed princesses got lost, so Matt and I drove her around in the Ranger until she recognized her father walking down the road with her jacket.  In just those few minutes, I realized again how much young girls talk!  But dang, she was a cutie!

Watching these girls with their dads has tickled memories for me.  I too was an indian princess.  My Dad and I just talked about it yesterday...During indian princess meetings, his name was Red Cloud.  Mine, he remembered, was White Cloud.  Neither of us could suss out the name of the tribe.  I do, however, recall painting a coffee can to represent my family.  I would bring it to each meeting; it became a part of the tribe's totem pole when stacked with the other cans on a vertical broomstick.
See...memories, they do "stack-up" don't they?!

Dad and I are in the background.  He has on a checkered shirt and is beating a drum.
I am the blonde, in pig-tails, looking at the camera.
This was in the late 60's in Noblesville, IN

Hmmm, I think I'll go and make some more memories with Matt.