Also, Penny Pearl had a birthday. 13. We now officially have four teenagers in the house. (Though one is about to be back out of the house soon. Sniffle.) We somehow managed to be all out of candles. So she has … a match. And her cake is banana bread. Not banana cake. Banana bread. She requested banana bread for a cake last year, and her sisters -- who are the birthday cake makers around here -- would have none of it. This year, when she insisted on it again, Daisy even promised to make her banana bread for breakfast if they could still have a proper cake as well. But Penny would not relent, and finally I had to tell everyone that it was her birthday and she could ruin it if she wanted to. Haha. Just kidding. I love banana bread. (Though I did think she might have wisely jumped at the chance to have banana bread and cake.)
And Daisy is finally really finished and done with all things high-school (and all COVID related graduation shenanigans). She signed up for a time to walk the field and get her diploma and yearbook last week. And yesterday was the virtual graduation. In place of the the long procession of students walking across a stage, shaking hands, and receiving diplomas; they had every student send in a five second video of them in their graduation gown to show as each graduate's name was displayed. Many just waved, but quite a few rode past on a horse, or waved while wake-surfing (in their graduation attire), or did a back flip, or spiked a volleyball, etc. It was an entertaining way to see the graduating class.
And there's still this girl. Goodness I love love love her. (Even if lately she somehow manages to climb out of her high chair to stand on the tray -- nearly giving me a heart attack -- any time I don't watch her lie a hawk while she's eating.)
And there's this cat. Who is pretty much the worst. (Which still seems to delight most of the family.)
The other day Abe called me to come out and see something. There was this enormous cloud of bees next to the bush in our neighbor's front yard. The cloud slowly shrank … and this enormous ball of bees grew! Soon there were almost none flying and just this huge mass.
Apparently when a hive gets too large, a new queen is born and half of the bees takes off with the old queen to find a new place to create a hive. The queen lands on a branch or mailbox or some such, the other bees then form a mass around her to keep her safe, and scout bees head out looking for a new spot for the hive. How they "decide" which bees leave with the old queen, and how the scout bees determine a new spot -- and pass that information along to the rest -- without any of our mortal means of communication, planning and logic -- is beyond me.
A neighbor of Mike's parents was excited to come and get it. He just swooped a box over it and slapped a lid on it. A bunch of bees disturbed in the process were then flying about kind of frantically, so he just punched a tiny hole in the box and they immediately all rushed to climb in after their queen. After 15 minutes or so nearly all the bees were snug in the box and away they went. It was a fun thing to witness.
In other news, Mike and I got to head off alone together two nights in a row last week! We had to go check on some things at the cabin Friday night. And we got to attend cousin Devin's wedding up near Sundance on Saturday night. It was 50 degrees colder that night than it is today. But it was fun to be a part of such a small (only about twenty people), outdoor ceremony; and we are so happy for Devin and Melissa.
We didn't make it to the family graves this Memorial Day, but I snuck off on my own one evening (with a root beer can full of flowers Goldie picked from our yard) to visit my dad's grave (and the graves of his parents). I love cemeteries. I always feel more certain that, when it's all said and done, no trouble or calamity will have been an unworthy thing to have experienced in mortality. I always feel like I want to more boldly embrace whatever is ahead in my little time on earth.
Goldie's surgery to remove the rod from her leg was a success. We jokingly envisioned it like King Arthur pulling the sword from the stone and holding it high. But … it probably wasn't quite that simple. It took two hours. But, a week and a half in, she's off her crutches (though still hobbling). Maybe she will even let me take a photo of her holding her rod aloft soon!
And … here are a few miscellaneous photos (including one of some lovely bowls of wet rocks left on my deck one afternoon).
