Summer Wrapped Up

In some ways this summer has felt like it's been so great. Penny and Jesse have had good jobs that have helped them save up a lot of needed money. We've been in the house! (Which has meant not being squashed together in such impossibly tight quarters.) I've been up early--consistently--getting my knee back into running condition. (Very short runs. Judging from the state my cartilage appeared on my MRI, I likely shouldn't be running at all, but. ...) We developed good routines for taking care of animals and watering. (With no sprinkler system and 16 tiny, new trees along the fence needing kept alive, 4 new apple trees by the barn still needing consistent watering, the struggling evergreen that we used for our last Christmas at the rental and then planted here needing cared for, a beginning lilac bush over by the well, and pumpkins that sprouted up in the front pasture, ... the task of watering has been quite a large job this summer.) The kids have had an ok amount of adventure with one early summer Bear Lake trip, camping with Mike and his brother Greg, young men's and young women's camps, and the fair. Starling got proficient at swimming. And our days at home have been a pleasant mix of getting stuff done and taking it easy. 

But, as it all winds up, I also feel this panicked sense of grasping--like trying to grab ahold of the days to pull myself back to the start of them where I might begin again and do everything ... more right. 

I'm sad we didn't spend more time at the cabin--especially since this very likely will be the last summer of owning it. (We didn't even get the wave runner out once!) I meant to take the kids on hikes and to the large aquatic center up here. Much of my own spiritual feeding (which feels so crucial to my sense of well-being) fell somewhat to the wayside as mess and chores and errands and distractions crowded in. I would have liked a getaway with Mike.

Of course, this seems to be pretty par for the course for me: If I could just go back to my teenage years, I'd be so much kinder to everyone around me and notice and do all the things that would help my parents. If I could just go back to my college days, I'd spend more consistent time at my grandma's to stave off her loneliness. If I could just go back to having newborns and toddlers, I'd relish every moment and not let mess and tantrums discourage me. 

I'd do every season right ... if this first go could just be a run through.

Alas, we don't seem to get much of a dry run at life. So I just keep muddling through, doing most things ... medium well (and sometimes quite poorly and, every once in a while, very well). 

And, whether this summer landed more in the things done "very well" or "quite poorly" camp (likely the "medium well"--just like a good steak), it's pretty much shutting the door on itself! School starts next week (and this week has already been nothing but paying school fees, and getting school supplies, and back-to-school nights). 

Here are a few last glimpses of it all.

A friend from Young Ward called me to come get beans one day. Here we all were--listening to Mike's oldest country favorites and getting beans snapped and ready to freeze. (This might have fallen in the "very well" camp. When Penny came home, she said how she imagined evenings like this would be the type she would miss the most if she were ever away from our family.)

Our weeds grew as tall as trees this summer. I' didn't mind really. Everything was green and they offered us an extra measure of privacy (as they obscured the road in front of our house). But Mike decided enough was enough last weekend and spent hours on the tractor cutting them all down. (And then, being able to actually walk everywhere again, we were shocked anew at how much space we have.) The picture below is pre the great weed cutting.

I will never tire of seeing cows out every window. (The boys' bedroom below.)

Pink clouds everywhere and a freshly weed-cut-down farm:

The big window and front porch views (pre weed cutting).

A new Dyson cordless. I love having one of those, but we do seem to need a new one far more often than any budget allows for.

One thing I love about Logan in the summertime are the morning temperatures. The highs each day are just as hot as they ever were when we lived in Pleasant View (just 45 minutes south), but for some reason the mornings are much cooler. 

This was from a morning a week or two ago. You can see the high temperature would be just as hot in each place. But our low was 46 while Pleasant View's was only 60. And at 10:00 am we were still only 68 while Pleasant View was 78. I'm not sure what would make this so, but it's lovely. 

Speaking of weather. This was one of the hottest summers on record. We hovered up near or over 100 degrees nearly every day of July. And it felt extra hard to bear for me because for two weeks of that time the forecast showed rain every day ... and it didn't make it to us once! :( (Luckily we had a huge and lovely rainstorm on Mike and Mette's birthdays last week.)

(While I'm grieving summer's end a bit on the one hand, I'm so eager for fall temperatures on the other hand!)

Can you spy Starling--in her little white nightgown--entering into our front area of thick reeds? I haven't ever ventured in there. I sort of thought a pond (of sorts) was inside. But Mike was in there the other day (I shall explain why in a moment here) and said it was like an entire separate ecosystem--all kinds of different animal trails, etc. I'm not surprised. My Merlin bird app captures the call of a Virginia rail and a sora coming from there often ... but I've yet been able to actually see either of them.

Anyway. Starling has spent many days, since moving to the farm, searching anywhere she can think, for a stray kitten. "Where else do you think I could look for a kitten mom? Do you think by the field tree?" 

Two weeks ago, she heard meowing coming from this are of thick reeds. Several of the kids went in with her--and came out covered in mud and with claims of sighting a small kitten that they couldn't catch or get to.

Eventually Mike came home and, after quite a lengthy adventure making his way through this foreign ecosystem, he came out with thee most scraggly, most muddy, most terrified, most half-starved kitten you've ever seen. (Truly it was nothing but skin and bones and caked in mud. You can see it clutched in his right hand below.)

You can tell by its length that it wasn't quite as young of a kitten as one might have wished. (The older wild cats get, the less likely you have any chance of taming them.) It looked younger than it was because it was so starved. Poor thing. 

We kept it in a crate inside for a while and then outside so the other cats might get used to him. He'd flee any time anyone set him down and we lost him a few times (but Starling always managed to find him again). She named him Dusty. And, after two weeks of crate living--and us feeling fairly confident that it was long enough for Dusty to get used to this being the place he could find food and safety, we let his crate door stay open. And it appears he's staying around! He's not totally tame, but he mostly only wanders to a thick patch of weeds out back and lets Starling find and hold him fairly willingly.

And now, after all her searching, she's finally got her very own, slightly mangy, wild, and scrawny, stray, farm kitten to love. (I'm so glad Starling has the farm. She spends more time traipsing about it than any of her siblings--usually bare-footed and in a nightgown. She pedals her bike [also bare-footed] over bumps and weeds and dirt as if she were on a paved road. She visits chickens and goats and peacock and mostly Dusty and the other cats. And is overall quite suited to living half in the wild.)

Tired kids. (I'm guessing this was after the fair.)

Abe and Kenya did their very best to make up for any and all adventure the rest of us might have been short on with their travels to Canada, and Glacier National Park, and CA to visit Kenya's old mission, etc.

Jesse came back from getting his school ID and seemed hesitant to show us his ID card. We assumed he maybe didn't love the picture or some such. It turns out he just couldn't quite bear the exclamations and gasps he knew it would most certainly produce over none of us being able to handle how handsome he is!

Anders sent back this jaw diagram:

And Abe sent his own senior year picture and lamented that, unlike Jesse, he hadn't thought to make the smolder.

The rodeo gave Mette a renewed interest in Holly. (And all things cowgirl.)

Penny took Anders to the Goth Babe concert at This is the Place Heritage Park. Anders has loved Goth Babe ever since Abe first played him a song when he took them bike riding once, so it was a very happy night for him. And it seemed like such a good atmosphere. The setting was beautiful and this current Goth Babe tour was a more simplified acoustic version of their usual shows--which lent itself to a more personal atmosphere with them coming down into the crowd and playing while everyone sang along, etc. Very nice of Penny to take him. (I told Anders to try and get a handshake. I meant from the lead singer of course but was sent back the picture below of him getting a handshake from Penny.)

Summer and Starling wanted bobs for the start of the school year.

Summer came to back-to-school night very prepared to have her first middle school locker.

Lavinia has been at it again! She sent a housewarming painting. The willow! Even the envelope was decorated with scenes from the day in 2017 when Mike and I drove up here and I first felt like this was where I wanted us to live. So amazing. 

Speaking of kind things. I love when my kids do thoughtful things for each other. Jesse surprised Summer and Mette with a poster for their room yesterday. Penny left a cool record on Jesse's pillow the other night. Mette bought Anders a little plaque that reminded her of him at Hobby Lobby last week. Summer surprised Hans with a Charmander wall hanging recently. It makes me happy when I think of them ... thinking of each other.