And through it all, grandma never lost her natural cheerfulness - and was the primary help to the flight coordinator.
And in the meantime, Uncle Peter gave rides to all of those present under 12 months old.
And after wading through much tribulation, with Jeff demonstrating great faith, patience, and diligence, the kite was up, and we had a wonderful day.
BONUS: Most of us remember the great kite debacle of ought 5. Here are the never-before seen actual photos of what really happened. It all began so innocently as a fun day of kite flying.
There was more wind that day, and the chief kite pilot and his helpers had no trouble getting airborne.
But it was on that fateful day that the guy at the end of his rope (string) completely lost his grip.
And it was off to the races, with him in the lead.
Unfortunately for him, he had not taken time to adequately stretch before trying to sprint off into the sunset, and he pulled his hammy.
And - fortunately for all of you, nobody recognized the symptoms, and the paparazzi just kept on clicking away, while the kite chasers kept on going.
And this is the last we saw of that kite: