I wrote in my last post (the post wherein half the paragraphs turned green -- and refused to turn back -- for no clear reason other than blogger being the pits) about the three birthdays since my last posting; then I promptly forgot to add the slew (slough???) (and now I'm thinking of our FL visit to the Six Mile Cypress Slough) of photos that went along with said birthdays.
In any case, the birthdays came -- along with a ridiculous excess of cake (particularly on Mette and Mike's birthday when Daisy made Mike his German chocolate cake, AND Goldie made Mette a checkered cake that was actually two whole cakes put together [along with a sugar-cookie crown], AND a young woman in the ward [who adores Mette] made her another cake)! Goodness! And the birthdays went. And now Mike is 43. And Mette is 4. And Summer is 5.
And here are the missing pictures.
Tuesday, August 27, 2019
(Summer's first official day did finally come. Along with a long letter from Abe and a video tour of his small, red, cement house.)
I have noticed, with the school year starting, how much easier everything is [relatively speaking] than it was the last few months of school last year -- when this little sprite was brand new and waking all night and nursing unpredictably and on no reliable schedule and needing held every moment. I wondered every single morning how we would possibly do it. And it feels nice to have things a little less impossible now!
Oh but goodness. Maybe I can come up with something when I have a little more time . . . but I'm doubtful I could find any way to express how absolutely smitten and in love I am with this Starling of mine. It is just this powerful and sacred thing to love someone so wholly, and purely. I adore her. I am smitten with everything about her. I feel capable of every sacrifice for all of eternity with no reward just to get her safely raised. I. LOVE. HER!
Cat continues to be primarily the worst cat to ever have lived. Hahaha. Goldie seems to find it delightful that he's such a ferocious and frightening fellow. The other day I sustained a nice battle wound down my leg when I leapt -- in the nick of time -- between Shasta (who was pouncing for the kill) and the stunned pigeon that had flown into our window (and was momentarily standing -- confused -- near our playground).
I've discovered that my kids seem to think being sent outside is a punishment -- unless I situate myself outside as well. Then they will play happily for hours. That, of course, makes me getting things done . . . less of a possibility. BUT! It also meant I was there to save pigeon when pigeon needed saving! And here Mette created a special nest (that she later tried -- unsuccessfully -- to relocate to a tree).
This face reminded Daisy and me of a baby meme we've seen floating about with a baby clenching his fist in a "YES!" sort of way.
Goldie got her permit! She can't see over the wheel amazingly, but she's been doing quite well figuring driving out. (Or, she was doing well. Before we got busy with camping trips and school and sort of forgot she could drive now.)