My favorite spice

I've got to say, it's ginger.

It's nice to have Mark back.  We've regained a bit of balance.  We're always a bit lopsided without Braeden but 2/3 is better than nothing.

It was quiet when Mark was gone.  It would have been quiet anyway because Emma's quiet.  But when Emma's reading Harry Potter manically all week, it's really quiet.

Yesterday in the backseat of the van, they discussed Harry Potter and what Voldemort should have done with the horcruxes.  Emma has clever ideas and ideas that wouldn't occur to me and that I only minimally understand because I have only read each book once.

Mark also has...clever ideas.  He thought Voldemort should have made a burrito a horcrux and then eaten it.  Also, if Voldemort was magic, why didn't he give himself a nose?  And maybe a tan?

I love hearing them laugh.

And they discuss at length who has to do which cleaning jobs.  (I suggested they write down the jobs and trade off each week.  "No," they said, "We like doing the same jobs.  We have it figured out."  I wanted to point out that they had the same elaborate discussion every week but I decided never mind.  It's the safest pursuit with the two most stubborn children in America.  Never.  Mind.)

And I love hearing them sing.  As I write this, they are in Emma's room, singing loudly.

Siblings were a good invention.

Games

I don't mean the Olympics.  Although I have enjoyed watching them a bit.  Every four years I suddenly care about swimming and gymnastics for a few weeks.  Except men's gymnastics.  It kind of freaks me out.  Especially when they're hanging on those rings and their eyes and muscles are bulging in alarming ways.

I digress though.

I don't really love playing games all that much.  A complicated and intense board game full of strategy?  No thanks.  I am OK with a card game, if it's fast.  I don't have patience for much else.

Except Boggle.  It's my one talent.  I don't think Adam has ever beat me at Boggle.  He kindly offers to play when he thinks I need cheering.  Over the last several days, we had Boggle out on the table and played intermittently.  (It's an advantage of having a big kitchen table and not many people home.) Adam scored higher than me a few rounds but I soundly beat him in the end, just like always.

Why isn't Boggle an Olympic sport?

I also played (and outscored) Emma.

She's dangerous though.  I'm not sure I'll always beat her.

Adam and I were playing on Saturday afternoon.  Emma took a break from her reading and sat down at the table.  (She's been doing her self inflicted Harry Potter marathon again which is sort of crazy--she read over 1000 pages on Saturday alone.  Why does she do this?  No one knows.)  Emma watched us for a few minutes and then started writing words down on a piece of paper.

She got a whole bunch of words neither Adam or I saw.

She found jot and tittle in this.  I don't know what to think about having someone better at Boggle than me in the family.  She'd better stick to her reading...

We refused to acknowledge the words she had in common with ours.

Then she decided to go back to her reading.  (I can't imagine why.)

I miss Mark

Early in the morning I glanced in the mirror and my hair reminded me of something.

I decided it was this plant.

This plant is sort of sad.  I divided my fern in two and the other half is thriving and looks like a fern should and this poor guy is spindly and sheds leaves.

And looks like my hair first thing in the morning.

I've heard sometimes people resemble their pets.  In the absence of a pet, maybe I'll start resembling my plants?

Maybe though my hair has just gone whackadoodle because Mark is gone.  Braeden has told me many times when looking at pictures of me that I became much prettier after Mark was born.  "You needed Mark," he says.

Mark's at scout camp and I'm resembling an emaciated fern.

Good thing he's coming home tomorrow or I may start looking like this plant:

Happy Anniversary

We've been married twenty-one years.  Next anniversary we will have been married half of our lifetimes.

I feel lucky and blessed and grateful.

There's nothing extraordinary about our marriage.  We disagree, we get cranky, I send him to the store for fruit and he comes home with the wrong thing, I am abysmal at directions and zero navigational help on road trips.  Still.  It's pretty great too.  We have the same goals.  We have these three children that mean the world to us and it's comforting to have a partner in raising them.  We put premier value on our marriage and we want each other to be happy.

That's worth a lot.

Yesterday I went into Adam's office and declared I wanted to go to Maverick.  Adam said, "OK."  And we went.

This is the summer of Maverick.  Diet coke + nugget ice + fresh limes.  It sort of makes your day.

And it makes my day that when I want to go, Adam is all in.

It's the stuff happy marriages are made of.

Not my email

I can't decide if I feel guilty about this or I helped Eithne dodge a dental bullet:

First there were the reminders:

You've got to hand it to Huntington Pediatric Dental Group/Dr. Stephanie for their persistance:

Aaaaaand I'm guessing she missed the appointment.  (That's what happens when you don't get the reminders.)  Did that dissuade Huntington Pediatric Dental Group?  No it did not. 

Because Eithne's dental health is important to them.

Huntington Pediatric Dental Group:  Do you maybe have a phone number for Eithne?  That may be the best way to reach her.

*****

I get lots of Facebook notifications for different Thelmas. 

I was intrigued by this one because of the profile picture.

Here's the close up.

My only response to that is:

The hero

A hero (masculine) is a person or main character of a literary work who, in the face of danger, combats adversity through impressive feats of ingenuity, bravery or strength, often sacrificing his or her own personal concerns for some greater good.

If my life were a literary work, Adam would be the hero.  That makes me the wife of the hero, which feels like a lucky place to be.

Saturday I washed all of Gavin's clothes and carefully hung up his church clothes so we would be all ready for Sunday.  We were going to leave church a little early, come home and feed him and then take him to the airport.  It was all planned and going to work very well.

Then on Saturday afternoon we heard from Gavin's parents.  They called because, where was he?  They were at the airport to pick him up and he...wasn't there.

What?!?!

It was one of those times when the world starts swirling and nothing makes sense.

So here's what happened.  Months ago, when Stephanie and I made the plan for Gavin to come, she told me the dates were the 22-31.  I marked it on my calendar.  You might as well say I wrote it in my blood.  When it's on the calendar, it's a done deal.

Later she sent the flight itinerary.  I noted the flight times.  I didn't even pay attention to the dates because I'm 1) an idiot and 2) see number one.

I thought I already knew the dates.

The dates had changed.

He was supposed to fly home on the 30th.

I apologized as best I could and Stephanie was, of course, very gracious and told me not to worry.  They would find another flight.

I said that we would pay the change fee because it was 1) my fault and 2) see number one.

Later in the evening I called Stephanie again to check on progress and she said they couldn't change the flight so were going to buy another ticket.

I felt so terrible.  

Adam, a.k.a. my knight in shining armor, pulled out his phone and said he would call Alaska Airlines and get the flight changed.  Meanwhile I called Brent and said, "Don't buy the ticket yet!"

He said, "I already asked to change the flight and they said no."

Adam is Adam though and he's really good at that sort of thing.  Soon enough, he had Gavin on a new flight and was chatting with the Alaska Airlines employee on the phone about someone also with a last name of Davis who lived in Orem and had taken her horseback riding.

I can't tell you how many times this scenario has played out.  Me, in distress.  Adam, to the rescue.

This has been a challenging summer and often, when I don't know where to turn in my own brain for peace, I turn to Adam.  He's a night owl and many nights, I can't sleep and stumble down the stairs to find him.  He stops whatever he is doing and turns his full attention to helping me.  He says the right things and listens and provides perspective.  He's not only good at convincing Alaska Airlines employees to help him.  He's also excellent at convincing me it's going to be OK.

The number one reason it's going to be OK is because I'm married to the hero.

It's a beautiful world

Friday afternoon we headed to the mountains.  It was nearly 20 degrees cooler there.  It was the most sane thing to do.

We went to one of several Silver Lakes.  I'm not sure if the same person named them all Silver Lake or if they were copying each other.  Either way, it can get a little confusing when you're a newbie and trying to google your way around.

It was absolutely beautiful.

And I guess the sun was bright.  Here 2/3 of the children have their eyes closed.

We walked on a path all around the lake.

There were a mama and 6 ducklings on that log.

As we passed another group of hikers, Adam said, "Do you notice a lot of these people don't look very...healthy?"

I said, "Yes, this is an easy trail.  This is for indoorsey people."

(Picked by me so my knee wouldn't give me any trouble.)

Adam said, "We've got to get your knee stronger."

He wants harder hikes--I'll keep working on this knee.

We drove up and over the mountain to Park City.

What a sad world it would be without mountains.

We drove around Park City, seeing the sights, then dropped into Salt Lake.  We went to the Church History Museum which is what we tried to do Monday but it was closed for Pioneer Day.

Raise your hand if you think it's ironic that the Church History Museum was closed for Pioneer Day....

We had a nice time there and walked around City Creek a little.  By the time we got home in the evening, it was slightly cooler.

Mission accomplished.