A New Post for Daisy

When one book is finished and another isn't readily available, Daisy, for want of good material (or, any material at all really -- as she's all tossed to the wind without a book to be reading -- [and so utterly engrossed when she IS reading that she must be forcefully pulled back to us]) asks hopefully if I've written any new blog posts.
 
But no. The answer, of late, is nearly always a no (which, I flatter myself, is a grave disappointment to her).

But one can never quite do all one might like (or even really should), can they. (I didn't put a question mark there because it felt less a question than a resignation). If you're reading Holland's pulpit-pounding assurances, you're wondering when you'll get to whatever happens in the book of Moses after that marvelous face-to-face with God in chapter one. And even if you're reading both (along with 2 Nephi), you're likely to be wrestling a vague dissatisfaction over not finding time for a re-read of the Guernsey Literary something something Potato Peel Pie book that so charmed you several years ago or even the Derek Walcott poem ("Love after Love") that your aunt just emailed you, or to be feeling a slight buried-talent sorrow over not learning the Lightroom editing software you've meant to since 2014 or for not . . . writing anything.

There's still time of course. That's what my mother assures me. Years ahead for so many things. "Think of it this way, Nan," she says. (And, while I'm often "Nance", she's the only one to ever call me Nan except, on occasion, my friend Jessica.) "It's like you've agreed to teach Gospel Doctrine one Sunday, but you decide you want to help in the Nursery during your lesson time because they happen to be short staffed. Helping in the Nursery is a good thing, but not when you've agreed to teach Gospel Doctrine at that time." (Though it occurs to me now that the metaphor should probably be reversed.) Still. The idea. One shouldn’t mourn or feel too much guilt over all the good things they aren’t doing if they are doing the good thing they are supposed to be doing.

But! Daisy did just have a birthday (a 15th one no less), and surely that's enough to pull me to the computer for a blog post? Yes. It is. Only . . . goodness. There are SO MANY pictures waiting to be made a fuss over and I'm not in the least sure of what to do with all of those. They’d make one post cumbersome. They should color up multiple posts, but . . . I can't guarantee multiple will be written, and, if they aren't? Do the pictures just . . . languish? Well, I suppose I shall just press forward "not knowing beforehand the things which I should do" and all that.

School was cancelled on Daisy's birthday. I'm not sure why, but, in absence of any glaringly obvious reason, we naturally claimed that Daisy's birthday was a big enough occasion to warrant a school-wide holiday. Earlier in the week I'd done what any good mother who is rather poor at early preparation does -- I'd wandered through Target with two babies in the cart and two toddlers trailing behind me (when they weren't trying to hide in clothes racks or getting distracted by Star Wars hats) picking out sandals and shorts that I thought might make fitting birthday gifts. On her birthday Daisy invited friends over in the day time. (She's gone and gotten herself the most ideal set of friends -- low drama, bright and cheerful, and forever wanting to go the temple.) I fed them pizza and pretended they were eight by having them make little graham-cracker "gingerbread" houses (Easter houses). And then they played games (even letting Anders be on Daisy's team), and laughed at how Summer zooms down the stairs on her tummy at lightning speed. That evening we shot arrows (some from wooden bows that Daisy made) into a hay bale in the backyard (because it's the kind of thing Mike thinks up), ate Chinese take out, and the cake Penny and Goldie made (with a small interesting moment occasioned by us being short on candles, Goldie having substituted mini marshmallows on toothpicks for missing candles, and Abe having lit one on fire), and opened presents.

In other news: Daisy and Goldie performed splendidly in their school production of Beauty and the Beast. Goldie as both a tree and a bucket, and Daisy as a villager (the baker’s wife perhaps?) and a napkin. Taking pictures from far away while holding Hans proved rather impossible, but, if you look closely you can spy Daisy in the back.

And Easter came and went. It happened to be our Stake Conference so we got to attend church at the tabernacle next to the temple and all it’s lovely tulips.

And before all of that, there was General Conference, donuts, Legos and coloring for a weekend.

And a homemade rootbeer party that happened (compliments of Mike’s brother Dave). I was running errands at the time, but Mike set Daisy to getting a few pictures and, I’m sure, made certain nobody drank any dry ice.

And Mette jumped on the trampoline with Penny. (It was several days of pure bliss when spring-like weather first arrived and Mette [who was still crawling when we last had a snow-free backyard] was set free to play outside. But then she discovered that wandering about outside is not nearly as good as having someone push you on the swing or jump with you [gently] on the trampoline. And now she mostly just wails miserably for those two things rather than contentedly exploring as at first. But, when I look at these pictures, I can’t imagine why I should want to ever do anything other than jump on the trampoline with this little cherub!)