sister power.

Before I forget, I need to post pictures from the time that two of my sisters came to visit me in Oxford. It was great having them here and they were kind to put up with me (especially as I was dead tired from a whirlwind trip to Russia and was preparing to go on another whirlwind tour of Eastern Europe and they were dead tired from jet lag).

But there was something special for me in showing Sarah and Katy "my Oxford"--a place that has become a part of me this year--and it was nice to show people from home that yes, this is a real place, and yes, it is beautiful and quirky, and yes, here are the people I've talked so much about. There's something . . . necessary in doing that, I think. It bridges the gaps between home and abroad.

Anyway. Enough philosophizing. Let's show some pictures (which are mostly silly selfies).

[Sisters! Sans Erika, unfortunately. But I don't know if England could have handled the intensity of all 4 Armknecht sisters at once.]

[Visiting Fountains Abbey.]

I dragged Katy and Sarah around Oxford, the North, and more in Oxford. So again, they were super patient with me. Which might explain Katy's face in this picture:

I'd probably want to eat me, too. Or at least my sunglasses. 

If you were a sno-cone flavor you would be my favorite one

It's summertime, which means it's sno-cone season.

Which means that Megan is a very, very happy camper.

Because sno-cones--especially from Snoasis--are some of my favorite treats in the world.

And when you combine sno-cones with sisters, there's no telling what will happen.

Like all of us jamming out to "Ain't No Mountain High Enough." (Because there ain't no mountain high enough to keep me from getting from sno-cones.)

And that awkward moment when the girl working at the sno-cone shack says that the sno-cone she just brought out was "for free," and when no one claims it, I'm like, "Is it really for free?" And then she says, "No, there's a person whose name is Free."

I don't really believe that.
Like, who names a child Free?
Then again, we are in the 21st century. There are children out there named Apple.
The point is, that sno-cone was not for me.
It was for Free.
Apparently.
Whatever.

Tiger's blood with cream and extra syrup, please.

What's in a name?

Once upon a time, Katy returned from her mission to Villahermosa, Mexico.

The day she was getting back, my mom sent Sarah and I to get some poster board from Wal-Mart so we could make "Welcome Home" signs.

Well, when we were there, we also saw a very colorful pinata.

And it called out to us:

"Bring me home," it said. "Bring me home to Katy."

So we did.

And I named the pinata Bob.

When Katy got home, she thought that it was ridiculous that I named the pinata Bob. So she renamed him Jorge.

Enter little cousins. One of my little cousins (who is two years old) saw the pinata and started playing with him. But, she renamed him "Mamana." Which, in little cousin language means, "Mama Horse."

And after a "Kevin's a GIRL?!!" moment . . .

the name stuck.

So Bob/Jorge/Mamana is now just that . . . Mamana.

And you just never know where you'll find her next.

Although she does like sitting/standing upside down by the couch.

And I like taking her around with me when I'm jamming out to music/pretending to exercise:

Because, why not?

Will we ever use her as an actual pinata? Probably not. I think by this point it would kind of be like killing an animal you've grown to love for food. I mean, you just don't kill Wilbur. You just don't destroy Mamana for candy. At least, I'm not gonna do that.

Not today at least.

There were never such devoted sisters

In just a few hours, my sister Katy will step off the plane and end her service as a full-time missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

About two weeks ago, my sister Sarah did the same thing.

Except Sarah flew in from Billings, Montana.

Katy will be coming in from Mexico.

It will be the first time our family has been together in over a year-and-a-half.

To say I'm excited to have us all together again is an understatement.

I am thrilled.

In case you didn't know, I actually have the best sisters in the world. (Don't argue with me. I will win.)

I mean, just look at us:

I mean, we're pretty much the cutest. 

All four of us darling girls.

All four of us again. No one actually knows what we're doing with the apples. Obviously they're for juggling, not eating. And this picture is also proof that nothing really changes, even after 15 years.

But besides taking awesome apple-picking pictures, we all rocked the 90s. 

I mean, look. Just look. Rocking that 90s look. Aka, I don't really know what we're wearing. All I know is that I loved that shirt and wore it with pride. Confidence. That's what matters, right? 

All of this. Just. All of this. 

I call this piece "Vegas girls find patch of snow in Provo." 

Typical. 

 Also typical (and yes, I still do that when I draw/write).

And a typical Saturday afternoon. Playing pretend (complete with political intrigue and entire histories of the characters and the made-up lands). My sisters were kind enough to let me direct the stories we acted out (aka be the boss). And then I became the boring, older sister. Sorry, guys. 

Anyway, if it's not obvious already, I really, really, really love my sisters. They've been some of my biggest supporters and dearest friends. And I'm so glad that Katy gets back today and that we can add to these collections of pictures and memories. 

Welcome home, Sarah and Katy. I'm glad you are mine.