We made some missionary scenes for Grandma with our legos. This is scene #1.
Tomorrow’s church service will basically be the Ross Family variety show. We’re doing the speaking and the music. Paige, Richard, and I are speaking and Daniel is playing Families Can Be Together Forever on the piano.
These monkeys make me smile.
It’s been that kind of week, people. Can it get any more crazy around here?
Reports, experiments, valentines, bike riding, park day, ballet, Cub Committe work, sign-up sheets, an advertising project, extra piano lessons, hiring a new art teacher, e-mails… and through the din I hear my voice in a muffled, tunnel-like echo saying,
“Let’s start working on The Iliad tomorrow!”
(As if Homer’s pathos, hubris, and other epic themes have anything to add to the life we lead.)
But these Monkey Muses sing on in my head, “Keep reading! Keep writing! Keep creating! This is the time of your life!”
…And of course, they are perfectly correct.
Sing on, Monkey Muses in my head, sing on.
Look what Richard’s garden produced! There’s a brother tomato still out on the vine.
A friend passed away last night after a battle with cancer. I met her soon after moving here with her cute flipped hair and 3 beautiful children. I will never have the right words to say to her family and very close friends who are grieving.
We made a card for her on Friday; a card that she will never read. Last night as I cleaned the kitchen at bedtime I thought about her and felt such peace and gratitude that she graced my life. This was just before the call came that she passed away. I like to think that friends who pass away are allowed say their good-byes to us, although we are unaware of their presence except for a gentle comfort that comes to our hearts. I am grateful for the continual source of peace and comfort, our Savior Jesus Christ. “Surely he hath borne our griefs and carried our sorrows.”
It was a confusing night; I think I fell asleep in the middle of a prayer, only to awaken every other hour to continue that prayer for her family… and for all those who love her.
Good-bye, Tracy. I’ll make sure your children always feel loved when I see them.
… but we had a swell time.
We never got a picture all together, but we enjoyed one day with everyone well enough to be there.
Daniel, our most adventurous boy, went on everything. Twice.
Paige had a good time, too, and was so helpful.
Timothy had a rough start on a terrifying ride, but overcame his fears and loved the rides as long as they didn’t plunge too suddenly into a dark abyss.
This was our first trip to Disneyland. Now, maybe it’s because I am adult, but these were some observations I just couldn’t reconcile in my mind:
A grandmother on the Dumbo ride; all by herself,
Mouse ears on grown-ups,
Reservations to eat with the Princesses are required 18 months in advance????
Darth Vader and Disney,
Leaving a stroller full of our belongings and not really worrying about theft,
LOVING the It’s a Small World Ride and WANTING to see Princess Aurora.
Being sentimental, I teared up as soon as I saw all the kids on a ride together, but in my haste to hide the tears, I brushed sunblock into my eye and then I really had something to cry about. It was a day of contradictions. I was amused at the childhood played out by adults, but succumbed to it myself in the end. And even though I didn’t see Princess Aurora, Paige bought me an Aurora pin on the second day I stayed home with Mark. The poor boy had an ear infection in each ear.
Today I moved through e-mails and personal interactions in awe of the connections that have blessed my life since moving here. So many of those women who have been my companions and confidantes surrounded me today at a small party for our homeschool group.
One friend lost her mother to cancer last week and we talked on the playground with tears and some laughter, too. One friend paid me back for something and five minutes later I handed the money to another friend who lost her wallet today and needed to buy gas. We exchange ideas and inspiration and books. These generous women enrich my life and make my children happy with their kindness.
And last, but most tender, another friend struggles in the hospital today and we carefully pray for her. And for her family. And all those who love her.
I came home to two letters. One from each of my grandmothers. I feel embraced, understood, and comforted today through the lives and kindness of so many women.
We’re home! We brought home antibiotics! We stayed up late talking and watching the Cranberry ladies movies (or whatever they are called). I finished a 760 page book! We all made it to Disneyland eventually. Thanks for visiting the blog. If you dear people lived closer I could tell you all kinds of juicy details over the fence and you’d hear me lapse into 19th century English, complete with accent, as one does when one watches and reads what I have lately.
We are sick with a cold that we have evaded for 8 months. A despicable, nefarious cold that waited to get us when we tried to venture to Disneyland.
The missionaries are out speaking and teaching. We’re here eating chips and sneezing. Here are some photos of our day.
4 lemons. I named them Paige, Daniel, Timothy, and Mark…not because my children are sour but because these lemons are beautiful.
We carry this friend around with us to ease our sore throats and coughs. Timothy played chess on my computer most of the day.
Here’s your reminder that Mormon missionaries are awesome.
Daniel collected berries in the backyard.
A treasure that I remember from the old days.
My sick little boy, smiling despite the trouble in his respiratory tract.
He stayed close to me most of the day; here he is snoozing on my shoulder again.
I keep finding things that remind me how my dad loves my mom. I won’t tell you the name of her listing on his cell phone, but it’s darling.
Hey, guys, you just won the Pinewood Derby. What are you going to do next?…
I believe we will take you to Disneyland.
And Richard, that was a smoking computer program you wrote for our racetrack timer.
Everybody was talking about it.
