A jolly holiday

Braeden gave Hobee (Braeden's favorite bear) a ride on Horace

Well, we've been having fun.

Geri came on Friday evening (and so did Braeden).  We introduced her to Quiplash (and she soundly beat us) and we spent the evening visiting and enjoying.

Saturday people sort of came and went but we had lots of together time too.

Except we missed Emma.  (She had a performance Friday night and Saturday afternoon and homework and the like.)

Saturday night, we went to her concert.

How I loved it!  As part of the concert, they showed this video.  You can see Emma really briefly several times.





I can't get over how blessed we are 1) to be able to go to lots of BYU stuff because those kids are amazing or 2) that our kids get to go to that great place.

Each choir was spectacular and then the philharmonic orchestra played the Nutcracker suite and Sleigh Ride.

No one can be uncheered by that sort of business.  The entire evening was uplifting and we cried except Mark (who possibly has ice water in his veins or perhaps is too young for the curse of crying).

We happily greeted our songbird after and Adam and I took pictures at the same time so no one is looking at the same camera.

Emma had a gala event for choir after so had to rush off to get ready for that.

After every other concert, we've taken Emma out for celebratory ice cream after.  When we were driving home, Braeden said, "You know...I don't need Emma here to eat ice cream."

Adam stopped at McDonald's.  Because if you give a son ice cream, they're going to want a burger to go with it.  That's science.

Mark introduced Braeden to the "McChuckle."  It's Mark's own invention where you stick a McChicken inside a McDouble.

Mark is giving Braeden a bite but keeping his hand on the creation so Braeden doesn't get any ideas.

I stick with the Hot Fudge Sundae.  That and Diet Coke are the only palatable things McDonald's has to offer.

Sunday we celebrated Pikkujoulu.  Last year whenever I heard Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas, when I heard, "next year all our troubles will be out of sight," I thought about this Christmas.

Nestled next to Braeden on the couch (both sons = world champion snugglers), I realized that my last year's Christmas wish had come true.  Life is never perfect but it is better and I love having my boy back.

We ate all the normal spread (clam chowder in sour dough bread bowls) and the treats.  The kids opened their ornaments (from us and from Geri) and Adam read A Wish For Wings that Work.  Mark read parts of the Christmas story from the scriptures in Spanish, Braeden played music for us and testified of truth.  Emma read Who's That Knocking on Christmas Eve.

Two exciting things happened amidst our celebration:  the first snow and the Christmas bear arrived.

Braeden built a mini snowman in the skiff of snow:

The Christmas bear is a girl and guess who was thrilled by that:

We named her Noëlle.  

I love my people.

First day of school

...with pictures even.

Here they are in front of the fireplace.  I felt like the chaos really captured the day.  Plus Horace is in the shot.  (Braeden found Horace fairly quickly when we started unpacking.  He was concerned about our little guy.)

Here they are on our deck.  I thought it would provide a backdrop that is a little more serene.  It was cloudy and rainy which I think was a gift for my Northwest children.

If we hadn't just uprooted ourselves, I would be obsessing about it being the first day of Braeden's senior year. 

I have bigger fish to fry/obsess about.  Things like will my children have someone to sit by at lunch.  (Neither of them did but they have set up a meeting place today--by the intimidating girl Viking painting--so they can eat lunch with each other.)

We slogged along at home while they were away.  I finished our bedroom and our living room.  Here's the living room:

It's pretty empty because the accessories are who knows where but it's nice to have a place to retreat to where there isn't a box.

Braeden and Emma returned from school unscathed.  Braeden was enthusiastic about his AP government/politics class (who didn't see that coming) and he seemed to more or less like his other classes too.  Emma was bored to tears by syllabus explaining (Braeden's teachers seemed to dive right in and hers...didn't).  She was lonely and looking forward to making friends. 

We went to Ammon and Melanee's for dinner (delicious!  Melanee is a great cook and Ammon is a great sous chef) and Katie and her girls were there.  I looked down the long table and saw all those faces I love and felt happy.

Braeden and Emma hugged and snuggled and played with their little cousins and I think it was the perfect tonic for a stressful school day.

My dad and my boys

One of the distinct memories of my growing up years was hanging laundry on the clothesline in the summer.  I mostly spent my summers working as a waitress and I'd work in the afternoons and evenings.  Mid-morning I'd stagger around, bleary eyed and my mom would send my sisters and me outside with a basket of laundry to hang on the line.  My dad would be in his shop, making magic:

He also listened to big band music on his radio.  All the windows and the door of his shop would be open in the summer sunshine and it was the backdrop to our laundry duties.  He would call some cheerful greeting to us and we would grumble something back because we were tired teenagers.

Every once in awhile he'd drop something or hit his thumb or who knows what and we'd hear him yell, "Damn! Damn! Damn!" and we might look at each other with wide eyes and contained mirth but we wouldn't say anything because even tired teenagers aren't that stupid.

Last weekend, Braeden found a station on itunes radio that tickled his fancy.  He piped it through the house and turned it up.

It was big band music.  From the 40s.  I felt like I should be hanging clothes in the sunshine.

I cut Mark's hair awhile ago and every time it's short, he looks exactly like pictures I've seen of my dad at that age.  It's alarming to turn around and see your dad when he was a kid.

Also, while I read to Mark during school, he does things like this:

Mark made a helmet (wooden blocks) for Horace and then knighted him and gave him a (butter knife) sword and a (coaster) shield.  Sir Horace of the Barntable.

Mark had a different...medium...than my dad, but his creative making-something-with-what-he-has-on-hand is something in his genetic makeup that came with the name Mark.

My boys live far away from their grandpa and they didn't purposefully set out to be like him in these ways, it just delights me that they are.

They could do a lot worse.

A sad history of pets

I guess one universal wish in the world is to be understood.  Probably everyone wants people to "get" them, see where they're coming from, understand why their pet is a metal goat.

Oh.  Maybe that's just me. 

When you consider the history that my family has had with pets, you will understand why my pet is a metal goat.

Today's story is less of a story and more of a list.


First, there are two pets that didn't add devastation to my growing up years:

1- Butterscotch.  The only cat I've ever truly liked.  He was Olivia's cat.  He was yellow and puffy and fat and seemed smart.  He would go on walks with Olivia and me and he never wound around my ankles.  That's all.  There's nothing tragic about Butterscotch.

2- Simon.   Tabor's dog had puppies and he gave one of them to me.  I named him Simon and he was a black border collie.  He had brown eyes and would sit with me on the front porch and look at me wisely.  When I went to college, I enlisted Tabor to be a co-owner of Simon and Tabor was better with pets than the rest of us combined.  He should have been in charge all along.

But then, here are all the pets that weren't so lucky to have Tabor at the helm:

1- Elmer.  He was a cute grey and black puppy.  He was hit by a truck.

2- Danny.  He was a fabulous cow dog and a great protector.

He barked whenever someone drove up to our house so I always felt safe when he was there if we were home alone.  (Also, there was a gun in my parents' room which gave me an admittedly false sense of security.  I don't know if I'd been able to use it but when I got scared, I'd think, "There's a gun on Daddy's shelf...")  We all loved Danny.  Except for when he killed kittens (see below).

3-  Rosie.  Rosie was a black and sleek cat.  She would wind around my ankles when I went outside and I didn't like that.  I felt like she was trying to trip me. Like most all the pets, she was an outdoor pet and I'm sure caught a lot of mice for which I'm grateful.  She had several litters of kittens which we loved and named and adored and then Danny would kill them.  Sometimes right in front of our eyes.  It was traumatic, especially since we loved Danny...

4- Pepper.  I got as a wobbly puppy for my tenth birthday.  I loved Pepper.  I took him on walks and fed him and trained him to sit.

sweet little Pepper, snoozing in the sun

Several years later he bit a little girl who was visiting our house and the next day (when I was at school) my dad shot Pepper.  Because we couldn't have a dog that bit little girls visiting our house.  Whatever.  Maybe she deserved it.

5- Several fish.  I think they had names but I can't remember them all.  Once my cousin, who was a toddler at the time, turned up the heat in the aquarium and cooked all the fish.

6- We had a turtle.  (Did the turtle have a name?) He was staked in our lawn and nibbled on grass and was generally awesome--because who doesn't like a turtle?  One day he disappeared.  I was afraid I'd someday find his empty shell in the sagebrush but I never did.

7- We had a bird.  Well, Enoch did.  It was in a cage in the boys' room and Tabor was allergic to it so the cage was moved to the living room.  Then it got birdseed everywhere so my mom would put it on the porch during the day and move it inside at night.  One night no one remembered to move the bird inside.  He froze to death.

(Don't tell PETA about our family, OK?)

8-We had ducks for a little while.  (You've got to admire our optimism.)  They were adorable as babies and then less adorable when they were grown.  Then some animal killed them.

9- I don't even want to go into the chickens because they weren't exactly pets but let's just say, that didn't end well.  At all.

10- In college I had two goldfish.  They lived in a gallon jar on my desk.  I took them home at Christmas time.  Marianne and I slid off the icy road and had to be towed back onto the road so we could continue on our way.  It was scary.  Also, the fish died.  From fright?  I don't know.  Once we got home, we had a funeral procession in their honor.  I'm 100% sure it was Olivia's idea.

I love everything about this picture.  The black shroud over the fish bowl, the doffed hats, the patched and repatched pants on my skinny brothers, the head scarf on Olivia.  And speaking of Olivia.  No pants?

Ammon poured the fish out buried the fish.

Hey!  That's the wagon from the first story! And hey!  That's the truck from tomorrow's story!

So now you see why my pet is Horace.  A good-natured little goat.  I love that he's quiet and doesn't eat much.  More than that though, I love that he won't die.

I don't think it's in my genetic make-up to keep a real animal safe.

Besides, he's awfully cute.

Valentine cheer

cherry and white chocolate pie

My mom sent our kids Valentines.  She sent some from my dad too but either my dad's handwriting has changed or I'm suspicious that she signed his name.

She is a very inclusive person.  My mom gathers people in her wings regardless of their age.  Or regardless of their status as living or made of metal apparently.  She sent Horace a Valentine too.

It made Mark's day and I think that's what my mom was going for.

I think they really bonded when we took him to Nauvoo.

My mom and Horace, making friends.

I love my mom.

We got envelopes full of Valentine cards from cousins.  Seeing my nieces' and nephews' handwriting made me happy.  I am afraid they are smarter than most kids.  No offense.

from Marcos:  an s is a tricky letter

from Olivia:  the niece, not the sister

I got a homemade Valentine from my friend Apryl.  She sends me one every year.  It is the great desire of my heart to live in the same cul-de-sac in heaven as she does.

I read an email from a dear friend while I was in the lobby of the YMCA, waiting for Mark who was at his homeschool P.E. class.  It made me cry, right there in the lobby of the YMCA.  I don't know why I am such a ninny (although I blame my dad who doesn't sign his own Valentines).  It was the kind of email that assures you that the world is a wonderful place full of wonderful people.

We feasted like kings.

Valentine's Day: a lot to love.

Visiting

When we were in Boulder visiting Tabor and Katie, we had a great time.

Like usual, Tabor made me laugh (and laugh).  Katie was kind and generous and after Marianne's family arrived, fed and housed 16 people.  That woman is a saint.  It was wonderful to all be together.  We visited a lot and admired each others' children and I bragged about my knitting and showed everyone the "scarf" that I'm knitting that resembles Iowa because both sides are so crooked.  (As it gets longer, it may start to look like Florida?)

I loved seeing my nieces and nephews.

So did Horace.

Along with Mark's dog, Squire Junior (named after Gavin's real life Pug, Squire), Horace got a careful inspection from Olivia and Ruby.

Then Horace gave Olivia's bear a ride. 

those brown eyes...

All the girls made candy butterflies to decorate cupcakes.

Clarissa, Ruby, Liberty, Emma, Deseret, Olivia and Carolina

It was all the girl cousins except Lili, Savannah and Azure.  We missed them.

No pictures of the boys which is too bad because those nephews are cute.  (No pictures of adults but they're not as cute.)  I did thoroughly enjoy seeing them though.  Brothers and sisters are a good invention.

We said a family prayer together before Marianne and I headed our separate ways with our families.  We then rotated around the room hugging each other.  I cried.  Someday I may run out of tears.  Maybe.

We drove to Salt Lake City and spent the afternoon with my wonderful grandma.  She is such a fantastic woman.  She always makes me feel so very loved.  She appreciates every tiny thing I ever do for her and I feel like it is an insignificant drop in the bucket compared to the many things she's done for me.  I wish I lived closer to her.

That evening, Ammon and Melanee and Cormac and Azure came and we all went to dinner together.  I had never met Azure.  What a darling little doll Dahl she is!  I didn't take any pictures of them either so you'll have to take my word for how cute they are.  (Do other people have nieces and nephews with as much charm as mine?  Because if they do we are all very fortunate.)  I think I forgot about pictures because I started to feel really sick.  I think it was a confluence of heat and dramatic altitude changes and not NEARLY enough sleep and not enough water to drink.  Ammon kept giving me sideways glances and asking, "You OK?"  He is always so very kind to me. 

Then, after I'd sipped several glasses of Sprite, I felt better and resumed admiring Cormac and Azure.  I declared, "She looks like you when you were a baby."  Then to add validity to my claim, I said, "And I was ten when you were born so I remember."

Ammon looked amazed, like he always does when he reflects on my advanced age, and said, "Holy Cow."

He is always so very kind to me except for when he thinks I'm old.

The next morning we went to Nevada.

We spent the day with Olivia and her family. 

I got to meet Omar whose appeal is vast:

Marcos changed costumes and personas often.  Here he is as a pirate:

I said, "Are you the Dread Pirate Marcos?"

He said, "No, I'm a captain of other pirates."  The kid has ambitions.

Enoch and Isaiah and Savannah came for dinner so in a matter of days, I saw every sibling and their spouses and my nieces and nephews except Luke and Jennifer who were sick. 

We were in Nevada long enough for a glorious sunset...

...then we hugged everyone good-bye and hit the road.

It was odd to be there for such a brief time and to be there when my parents' house was sitting empty.

We are now home. 

Alas.

We are all exhausted and happy and brimming with good memories.  And none of us want to leave home again.  Ever.  Except we don't have any milk so we'll probably have to.

The first step is admitting you have a problem

The hotel we're staying at in Junction City, KS has a convention center attached.  We looked to see if there was a Cracker Barrel Anonymous meeting we could attend.

We are frequent visitors of Cracker Barrel.  We know it's not the most healthy fare available.  We. Can't. Stop. They don't have them in Washington.  People of Washington, we are missing out.

Here's Mark at Cracker Barrel.  This was Sunday night.  He still has his church shirt on (unbuttoned) and he's wearing the hat my mom made him.  Notice the peg game.  We are getting good at the peg game.

That's what happens when you go to Cracker Barrel.  A lot.

In addition to risking our lives with copious amounts of comfort food from Cracker Barrel, we lived dangerously by driving on Interstate 70 from St. Louis to Kansas City.  Is there some unwritten law in Missouri that says you have to drive like a maniac on Interstate 70?  (I'm a little sensitive about laws in different states.  I don't want another ticket.)

We stayed the night in Independence, MO. 

Braeden, contemplative at Liberty Jail

We toured some church history sites and chatted with a ninety year old man from Church of Christ--Temple Lot church.  It was interesting and we sensed a big contrast in their convictions and our own.  We felt sort of sorry for him and Adam bought a book from him. 

It was a nice day though hot.  Our ice cream cones practically melted before we could eat them.

It's a tough life, this vacation stuff.

Kansas City is a beautiful city.

Also, a very serious city:

Also, a very hot city.  (Oh, did I mention that?)

Horace tried to cool off in one of the many fountains.

But we didn't let him.

Everyone knows that goats rust.

(Metal goats do, at least.)

Real friends

We are in St. Louis.  We took a detour to see our dear friends, the Thatchers.  It was well worth the detour.

We haven't seen them for almost exactly 12 years.  12 years!  Mindy and I started chattering like no time had passed.  Bill and Adam seemed to take up a conversation they had started 12 years ago.  Our kids eyed each other for about 30 seconds then became friends as well.

It was just a really fabulous time.

Mindy was educated as a math teacher but could easily have been an interior designer.  Their house is amazing because of Mindy's style and vision and really hard work.  I loved it.  We reminisced about old times and old people we used to know.  I laughed because even though Jessica is now a sparkling and beautiful 16 year old teenager, she is still the sparkling little toddler I once knew who knew how to push her mom's buttons.  I have always loved Jessica.  Jackson, who was two last time I saw him, is a handsome and strapping young man and then Nic and Olivia, who weren't born then, have been added to the family but it seems like I should have known them all along as well.

We drove to downtown St. Louis (girls in one car, boys in the other--Mindy and I didn't want to stop talking to each other and I don't think Adam and Bill did either).  As we chatted, I was over and over impressed by what a great person Mindy is.  She is a really good mother and inspirational to me.  She described, with gratitude, a situation she has been involved with.  She is grateful to be led through prayer in how to help someone.  I was astounded by her charity and goodness but then at the same time, not at all surprised.  Same Mindy I've always known.

When we were reminiscing, I recounted the ways she'd helped me when I had mono and Emma was a newborn.  She didn't remember.  She also didn't remember coming to stay with Braeden the night Emma was born.  She didn't remember staying behind at Emma's birthday party to help me clean up after Braeden shut the party down by throwing up all over everything.

I told Mindy she needs to remember these things!  She ought to always remember what a great person she is.

I had to snap a picture of Bill.  Poor one armed Bill.  He was at scout camp and dislocated his shoulder water skiing.

Mindy, Bill and Adam.  The Mississippi River is in the background.

 We saw the St. Louis Arch.  

Horace tried to climb the Arch.

silly goat

The Thatchers have a dog which made Mark jealous.  I think our goat made them jealous though.  At least it made Mindy jealous.  Goats are quiet and don't eat anything or make any messes or have to go to the vet.  At least that's how metal goats are.  I can't speak for real goats.

I tried to get a picture of our kids.  Didn't quite work.

Nic is the one in red, in the top picture, caught mid handstand.  That kid is athletic like his mother and can walk on his hands.  I told him (with a bit of pride in my voice) that I'm really good at walking on my feet.  Alex, is in pink.  He's not related but staying with the Thatchers.  Olivia is the cutie in purple and Jessica the cutie in white.  You know my three and then Jackson is between Mark and Braeden.

If we had room in our van, I would try to sneak some of those kids home with us.

We went to their house where the kids relaxed:

The men cooked dinner on the grill:

I sliced the watermelon in crooked slices and enjoyed visiting with Mindy as she created a lovely feast for us.

Happily, I got to meet my imaginary friend Christie as well.  She and I have read each other's blogs for awhile and she and Mindy are good friends.  Mindy invited her family over for dinner so we could meet.  Real life Christie did not disappoint.  She was explaining to her teenage sons who they were going to meet and they said, "So you're like LaFawnda and Kip?"

Exactly.

Except we aren't in love.

Just friends.

I don't know if I'd rather be LaFawnda or Kip.  LaFawnda has the snazzy shoes but Kip gets the bling necklace. 

Christie is also a primary president.  She told me I'll survive.

I unfortunately didn't get any pictures of her cute kids and the one picture I got of the three of us, is not the best.  It's the only picture though.

Mindy, me and Christie...Mindy said her picture can't be on a blog.  Is she in the witness protection program?  Sorry Mindy.  My blog.  I want to remember my pretty friend.

Christie is unfortunately not looking at the camera (Adam was trying to be stealth so I wouldn't blink).  If you want to see a picture of Christie looking at the camera so you can get a better idea of how lovely she is, I'll direct you to her blog.  You may want to go there anyway because she's funny.

As we left the Thatchers, one of our kids said, "They should move to Seattle."

I agree.

Then another kid, looking outside at their great neighborhood said, "Or we should move here."

I'd be OK with that too.

Before falling asleep, Adam and I were talking about the day.  We felt deeply satisfied with our visit.  It was so fun to see the Thatchers again.  How wonderful to have lasting friends that withstand twelve years of absence.  We also felt a little regretful.  Twelve years.  That's a long time.  I wish we could all see each other more.

Maybe we'll live in the same cul-de-sac in heaven.

Time well spent

the view from my parents' living room--The Mississippi River

I think a mark of a good vacation is tired feet.  We have been busy.  We are taking a short breather and then we'll get back to the business of vacationing.

I keep feeling happy that my sisters are going to bring their families here to spend time with my parents too.  I wish we could all be here together (but imagine the line for the bathroom).

Here's what we've been up to (this is where I warn you that a lot of pictures are to follow):

We took a carriage ride yesterday.  My dad was the narrator and another teamster did the driving.

Oh yeah, and we took Horace with us.

My dad:  telling us about the area's history.  That's my crazy hair off to the side.  Blame the humidity.

The nice (and really tall) horses.  My dad is 6'6".

We went to a show:

Young Performing Missionaries presented a puppet show and a play.

very talented kids

The children got to sit in the front row and Mark loved it:

They had us all stand up and sing Popcorn Popping on the Apricot Tree.  Even though it was a roomful of strangers from all over, we all knew the same song.  :)

We took a tour in the print shop where my mom was working.  She taught us about how they made the newspaper in old Nauvoo.

We also toured the John Taylor home with her.  Since we knew the tour guide, we were able to slip Horace in for a photo op.

This horse belonged to John Taylor's little boy.  When they left Nauvoo, it was left behind.  A few days later, John Taylor came back for it because his little boy cried for it.  Very sweet.  Horace thought so too.

I loved spending time with my mom.

My mom made each of the kids a hat.  Emma is sporting hers in this picture.

 We were able to take Braeden and Emma to the temple to do proxy baptisms.  It was a wonderful experience.  I may have cried.

Last night we went to a performance of Sunset on the Mississippi, which my parents are a part of also. 

Before, there was a children's parade:

My dad carried a flag when they honored the armed forces:

My parents, the performers...

Today we went on a wagon ride.  My mom was the narrator and my dad drove the team.

Horace, the Percheron horses that pulled us along and my dad's leg...

My parents, after the wagon ride...my mom is holding Horace.  (She is a good sport.)

My mom took us on a tour of a schoolhouse. 

Mark and I brushed up a little on his math.

Here we are outside of the school.  It looks like we carefully orchestrated our clothes to match.  We didn't.  This is what happened to be clean and at the top of everyone's suitcases.  Sometimes things just turn out nicely.