We had a month and a half between Abe's graduation and his mission departure, so not everything going on this summer was BIG or a LAST. Abe was gone two of those summer weeks (a senior trip to Moab and a stake mission training camp) and the older girls were gone for another week (camp); and true there probably wasn't actually a day when Abe was home that didn't have some mission-readying thing going on (typhoid shots, background checks, apostilles, shopping, filling out a huge family history packet, boxing up and organizing his room, going to the temple, etc.). But! Abe still worked now and then at Farr's through the end of June, and he still went for a few bike rides, and had nerf-gun battles with Jesse, and played basketball with friends. And the rest of us still did very ordinary summer-time things like we would have done regardless of anyone coming or going in our family.
Here is a very small sampling of those ordinary things (meaning -- the ordinary things that I actually happened to take pictures of):
Daisy lounging. Kids scattered about:
A Sunday evening walk:
Reading books. (Hans looks just like someone undercover pretending to read a newspaper . . . they always get it upside down.)
Trying to give Starling a new perspective by sitting her up in the Bumbo (she mostly flumps to the side and doesn't love it):
Sisters holding sister:
Boys coloring:
Jesse looking for robot parts in our garage:
Me with 10th child. She is not a newborn at all anymore is she. She didn't even give me three months! (But! She smiles and rolls over and tries to hold toys and even laughs. And somehow each of those rather ordinary things, when it is her doing them? Well, they seem almost as miraculous as having a newborn baby at all.)
The End.
The Sunday before Abe left was Starling's blessing day. It's the loveliest thing ever -- Mike presenting one of our tiny babies to the Lord in a circle of prayer -- pronouncing the name that we have chosen for her mortal sojourn and extending blessings for her life. Starling's grandpa Alma was also there in the circle. And her own oldest brother was able to stand in the circle as well. That was a cool thing for me -- watching my oldest help in blessing my youngest. It bound her arrival in our family and his upcoming departure in a beautiful -- if not slightly painful -- way for me.
My mom with her 10th child . . . and her 10th child's 10th child!
Starling with all three of her living grandparents.
That same Sunday we prepared our last big Sunday dinner with Abe still here. We had our staples -- potatoes and gravy, rolls, and Jell-O; but we also added corn-on-the-cob and instead of a roast, Mike grilled steaks. Sunday dinners are already one of the times during the week when I most feel Abe's absence.
Also. A week or two later we had Mike's parents over for dinner. Mike's mom had me put Starling back in the blessing dress (quite a few of her grandkids have worn it -- including three of my girls) to try and get a good shot with the dress fully spread out.
That sounds simple enough. And I even assumed, after snapping a few pictures, that we must have gotten a good one. But . . . it turns out we failed. Haha. Dear Starling could not be stopped from grabbing handfuls of dress and pulling it every which way and gathering lace-filled fists to her mouth. Mike would try to hold her hands while Gayle straightened the dress then they'd quickly move and I'd snap a picture before they'd have to come right back in and try again. And, in the end, I realized I still didn't have the "dress fully splayed out" picture. I guess that's what you get by blessing your baby closer to four months than one!
(I made this little headband back when Daisy was blessed . . . before I gave up on all things crafty. We couldn't keep it on her head during her actual blessing day. But at least we got it on her for these pictures. Even if she wouldn't leave her dress well enough alone.)
Dear sweet angel girl. How I love my Starling Eliza (and how I adore the name that felt it simply must be hers.)
I realize there is no reason ALL of these posts need to be titled "before Abe left" -- particularly the ones that don't have much to do with Abe exactly. But . . . I already wrote posts about Abe being gone. And will continue to. So this little slew of posts here in the middle I wanted attached in my mind with the time frame of summer when we were all still here together.
So.
Cat.
Mike arrived at our Bear Lake cabin late on the night of Goldie's birthday (quite a few hours after the rest of us). He brought Goldie's presents along with him. (Though Daisy had already given her her gift -- additional playing cards for the Marrying Mr. Darcy game that they love [the "Emma" extension pack -- so the likes of Frank Churchill, Mr. Knightly and Harriet can now be part of the game]. A good call on Daisy's part as that gave Goldie something fun to do with her sisters while waiting for her late-night presents to arrive.)
Anyway, after being pushed somewhat hurriedly through a few gifts like a hammock chair, a locket, and some giant pretzels from Penny (perfect for dipping in caramel and chocolate), Mike directed her towards the cabin door -- explaining that her final present was just on the doorstep.
And, when she opened the door, lo-and-behold there was Cat. A tiny little six-week-old boy kitten. The fun of giving him to her -- "Yes he's really yours. Yes of course you can get him out of his carrier and hold him." Well, it was pretty great.
We spent most of the rest of the night giving her name suggestions. And she spent most the rest of the trip narrowing it down and refusing to tell us once and for all what to call him. She eventually settled on Shasta (though it irks her that everyone says, "oh! like the soda!" instead of, "oh! like the boy in the Narnia book!"); but the naming took so long that, even still, he is called simply "Cat" as often as "Shasta" (even by Goldie).
He was incredibly mild at first. And every morning someone new had a tale to tell of how Cat had found his way to them and proclaimed them his favorite. He'd snuggled all morning next to sleeping Daisy, he'd curled himself up on Abe's stomach as Abe read his scriptures -- and then stayed there (with Abe unwilling to disturb him) until Abe had finally been forced to roll over so he could get some sleep, etc.
(I wonder who is winning at Boggle?)
(Watching Summer draw.)
Since then however, he has become a complete Attack Cat. (In fact Goldie has already identified nine of his maneuvers: The Pounce, Hunchback, Sneak Attack, Room Rush, Jaws of Death, Scratching Post, Flying Ninja, Ankle Ambush, and Advance on the Innocent.) He is forever on the prowl, waiting to pounce, leaping onto feet and wrapping himself around ankles or hands with a fair amount of biting and clawing. I've seen him multiple times rear up like a horse and even fly through the air with paws splayed wide in his leaping attack.
Mike, who has already informed Abe that he will likely have to be prepared to fight to Cat the minute he comes back in the door in two years time in order to establish himself, swears he was the calmest kitten in the litter; which leads me to wonder if the owners of the other kittens are living in abject terror.
But. Shrug. He is pretty cute. And most of the kids (saving Hansie -- who yells for us to put Shasta outside every time he sees him) seem to tolerate having their limbs nearly eaten off quite well. They even seem to like the little fella. Goldie seems to think his behavior is altogether delightful. She is forever laughing and shaking her head, "Oh Cat. Cat's the best!" as she comes to one of our rescues. So, I suppose he will stay.
Still, he IS spending a fair amount of time outside!
We spent a good portion of Abe's last week with us up at Bear Lake. We'd gone for a quick trip in June but wanted one last really good stay up there as a whole family before Abe left. Due to Girls' Camp, Abe's senior trip, a stake mission training camp that Abe was helping run, things Mike couldn't miss with work, and . . . building new decks, . . . that week right before his departure (which happened to be over Goldie's birthday and the 4th of July) was the only one that worked.
We left on Tuesday afternoon (Goldie's birthday). Mike couldn't come 'til later, and I was worried her birthday would be nothing but packing, driving, and unpacking. But, we got there before too late in the day and sent Abe down to get us food from LaBeau's for a birthday picnic on the deck. It was relaxing and happy.
Then we went to the marina to feed the fish.
That night Mike arrived with Goldie's gifts. But we will save that for a post of its own. For now -- some more of Bear Lake:
We spent a few days at the beach.
We also drove to a kids' rodeo on the 4th. (It was insanely crowded initially, but a windy rainstorm got rid of most of the spectators [and sent me to the car with Starling for a while]. After that there were so few people there that several of our kids participated in the pig chase, goat chase and chicken chase! [Though none of them caught said animals]. Sadly the rain also meant that I kept my camera in its case in the car.)
We came home late Friday night. (Cleaning and packing up the cabin on the same day as going to the beach and having sand and wet towels and everything else to take care of is usually something I avoid, but we wanted to make the most of our time there while still getting Abe back with a weekend and a few days to get last things done.)
(Hans's lower lip is stuck out like in the above photo . . . a good portion of every day. So many things don't go his way. . . . Dear boy.)
(That last photo is fun and a little sad. Abe created these massive, impressive Lego robots with moving parts and shooting weapons and little Lego men in cock-pits controlling them, etc. all out of his own head over many trips up to Bear Lake. They were so great that we couldn't bring ourselves to ever destroy them, but Jesse in particular was always sad that so many of our good Lego pieces were now rendered useless as they were wrapped up in Abe's robot masterpieces. Abe told Jesse he could take them apart once he left for his mission. So . . . here they are . . . breathing their last breaths.)
The End.
