This and That

Abe received his mission reassignment. Las Vegas, NV. Leaving June 23rd. (I was, rather selfishly I suppose, thrilled to hear we'd be keeping him home for another month plus.) Keeping his preaching to the hot and corrupt places of this world it seems. ("They've called you to the jungle again," our stake president said when he gave us the news. "Just a different kind of jungle." And Abe said, "Well, a little closer to home, but still just as much villainy!") :) Actually, outside of the strip (where I can't imagine Abe will be spending much time -- other than the occasional p-day gambling [kidding, kidding]), I think there is a large latter day saint presence in the area. And I'm excited for him that his mission will contain two completely unique mission experiences. 

Starling has developed a love for books. I often try to hide them from her. (Could I be more terrible?) But she cannot be content if a book is in sight … and nobody reading it to her. In fact, she has actually learned to FAKE CRY when we don't. (Which is so hilarious and dear that I will read to her in an instant when I hear her sorrowful attempt at crying … when she isn't truly crying.)

Earlier today I heard Mette and Summer chatting away at the kitchen counter. Their conversation flowed effortlessly from one topic to another with no need for dots connecting any of it. One bit I loved was when Mette was clearly telling Summer about her first shared birthday with Mike: "... and he didn't even get any presents, but his present was ME!"

I jotted this snippet down about Mike one morning:

Tonight you swept up all the scrambled eggs Starling threw on the floor. And returned from some debacle with the goats shaking you head and saying, "If I were a swearing man …". (And I reminded you of the time Honey tossed our Australian Shepherd 10 feet across the pasture.) And then I listened to all you had to say about two-stroke jet skis. And I told you how Jesse fixed that tiny circuit-board night-light with his soldering iron. Then I fell asleep, as you scrolled through the ksl classifieds, with my knees curled up and pressed snuggly into you.

Goldie is getting the titanium rod out of her leg AS I TYPE! They would only let one parent come. And they said we couldn't be with her in recovery. So it would mostly be dropping her off and waiting till they wheeled her back out. So Mike took her. But I have felt anxious anxious at the thought of her coming out of general anesthesia without me being able to rub her arm and smooth her hair back. More about that … at some point!

Luckily she got to have a good little adventure before her surgery when Abe took a bunch of his siblings rock climbing earlier this week. It's so fun to me that my older kids can take their siblings on adventures that I cannot!

Daisy is pretty much done with her anticlimactic senior year! Seminary graduation was a Zoom meeting and her official graduation later this month will be something similar (though they are letting them sign up for a time to "walk" -- cross the football field in their gowns, get their diplomas, and pick up their year books). Bless her heart. There hasn't been a speck of drama over any of it from her.

And another little thing I wrote awhile back:

There was this sort of innocent and carefree simplicity that accompanied having our first babies (Let's make a little family!") that was wholly absent from the intense business of determining to bring these later ones here (all full of deep strugglings with my own soul, wrestling prayers that stretched beyond the confines of this world, and a thousand heavy considerations as it was). But emerging from the struggle and the sacrifice (and wrapped tightly with each of their arrivals) has been a new certainty of value in existence and the sacredness of a soul's place and journey and purpose. And, like some power-infused light, I sense this truth brightening all the dark inside of me, filling me up, and slowly extending itself beyond my small clutch of people … to all of humanity.

Poor little Hansie had a fever one day and slept for roughly one million hours. And then he was good as new. 

Mike cut down a big, dead tree from our backyard. It was leaning towards our neighbor's fence, so he tied a rope to the tree and had all the kids pull with their might as he cut the tree down.

Mike made empanadas for us one night. We always love him best when he does that. 

Here the kids are happily creating a snail sanctuary. Snails are the bane of my existence. We have MILLIONS afflicting our yard. They eat every flower I ever plant. (Most notably my giant zinnias … which I used to have every year … and haven't had once since the snail invasion.) They are the worst. And I can't get rid of them. Luckily that doesn't bother these kids. Who BABY them. Grrr.