Tulips and Alliums?

Today it’s windy. Cold. And everything brown. Brown, dull, and bare, bare, bare.

But just last week Mike showed me that the bulbs I buried this fall—my first ones ever (planted with fingers crossed and no real conviction of future flowers, then promptly forgotten)—had actually pushed their way up and out of our dirt!

Incidentally, I had a botany professor who couldn’t abide the word “dirt” when it came to planting and growth. “Dirt,” he’d say, “is something you get under your fingernails. Things grow from soil.” (Though … I cannot think that what we have here can truly claim to be much beyond dirt. And yet? Tiny, stiff foliage is peeking out of the ground; unexpectedly determined to become a tulip or an allium!) Just how long have roots been extending downward and shoots been reaching upwards without my even knowing anything was happening beneath all that hard … dirt?

There is something about it for me. Hopeful. Angels going before. Things happening that I don't even see. The Lord at work in what seems ordinary. (Dirt! Not even soil!) And of course, I'm still not sure, (will they even survive the snails?), but it is possible; we might truly be on our way towards alliums and tulips! What a wonder.

Just Lots of Little Things

Our junior high kids have to get up a solid hour earlier than anyone else around here. (Well, maybe that's not quite fair. Our high school start time isn't quite so far behind, but our high schoolers don't have to catch the early bus for a relatively far-off school, rather, they just walk to the street behind our house and they are there.) 

In any case, having junior high kids always means some uncomfortably early mornings, and somehow, over the years, Mike and I have sort of established that he gets up with the junior high kids (for a little scripturing and praying and seeing them off) on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and I get up with them on Mondays and Wednesdays and Fridays. 

Which is all just backdrop to this:

The other night (just before one of his early-morning-wake-up days) Mike told me something like this: "Scientists have been doing some studies, and it turns out there are more Tuesdays and Thursdays in a week than previously thought. Something to think about. ..." (He offered this scientific bit of news, in case it wasn't clear to you, in the event that I might feel, out of fairness, to take some of those extra Tuesday and Thursday early mornings with the kids. Hahha.)

Speaking of my Mike, we weren't able to do anything much for my birthday or our anniversary due to a crazy December, but he gifted me tickets to a Plain White T's concert for the end of January, so the two of us went to Maddox and to their concert a few weeks ago (while Pen and Gold nicely tended). Neither of us were very familiar with their songs (beyond the three most popular ones), but it was in the cool, old little Eccles Theater in Logan, the main singer was a good entertainer, and it was fun to get out together after such a stressful month to do something a little different! 

Oh Mike. He just creates this bubble of safety and love and taken-care-of that I just get to exist within. Like a forcefield of security around me. I just get to go about my business learning and doing and taking care of our home and family and it's just all facilitated and circled about by this good husband of mine. I do not think a night goes by that I do not snuggle next to him in bed and just send up a silent prayer of thanks. (Also, a few weeks ago I was sobbing into his shoulder over some feeling or other of failure and overwhelm. I wish I had written down what exactly it was all about or what exactly he said because he had me laughing so hard while I was sobbing that I honestly was not sure if I was crying out of sadness or crying because I was laughing so hard. It really was both. And I love that even when he can't solve my problems, ... he can do that!)

Moving on. 

Starling calls a watch a "clock necklace". If she knew the term "bracelet" she might have come even closer to perfectly describing something without knowing what it is actually called, but clock necklace is pretty great. 

The other night Hans was having a very emotional time getting to bed. And just when I'd think he was calmed and settled, he'd find something to wail about. But eventually I had him all tucked in and seemingly content. Only, just as I went to leave, he suddenly thought of Abe and wept, "Is Abe just going to KEEP ON ADVENTURING and not even care about us anymore?!!"

It's true Abe does like adventure, in fact, below is a picture of him excitedly finding a day warm enough (and snow free enough) to rock climb with his rock-climbing pals; but ... mostly he just does math. He told us on the phone the other night that, between classes and homework, he did like 12 full hours of math recently. And surely we are preferable to that! I don't think his life away from us is so exciting that he'll forget us just yet, Hans.

And here is Daisy--who also hasn't forgotten us I'm sure (though she gave me a fright when her phone wasn't working and I could not get ahold of her the other day!)--at a BYU game with her roommates:

And here is a rare photo one of the kids caught of Goldie (who lives here still ... but may have forgotten us all the same). (Ha! Just kidding. She might like to, but we won't let her!) Speaking of Goldie though, she thought forever she would go to Weber State, but she's now really leaning towards Utah State. Isn't it crazy that three of my kids will live outside of home by the end of summer? Again leaving me with no drivers and very few older kids to balance out all the very little kids! Sniffle.

But look at Penny! She looks ready to take on the role of oldest!

And more pictures:

Mike and the kids bravely trying some ultra-sour, squirter things Uncle Dave gave them:

And a warm-ish Saturday of taking the younger kids up to mess around in the foothills and right to the rock where Mike proposed to me! (Can you imagine if we had been able to catch a glimpse of what that proposal would mean for us? Twenty plus years ahead? And all these people!?):

The kids with their Jill quilts:

Anders with Little Gray Cat (I think that name has inadvertently become official).  

She never did become "tame", bless her heart. But she rarely ever leaves our yard. She lives here. Outside anyway. (Inside is only a terror and a trap to her.) We feed her, and she sleeps snuggled next to Shasta on the little heated pad in the dog house (cat house?) on our back deck, and our kids love her as much as Shasta, but ... she flees every time we open the door, and, in order to get her spayed (because, well, she does live in our yard and there are lots of other stray cats that wander our neighborhood, and we didn't necessarily want batches and batches of kittens also ending up in our yard), we had to catch her in a trap. (Which is the only reason you see Anders holding her in the picture above.) But no matter how gentle we are with her, she only flees from us. Bless that stinker cat. Somehow I tied her nicely into a lesson in my little Sunday School class recently. :) We love both of our cats. We worry about and provide for them. But one allows us to bless it much more fully. Because he knows us. And trusts us. And feels safe in our home. So he can come in when it's chilly, sleep snuggled on our couch, have someone pet him and give him bits of food from the fridge. We should like to give Little Gray the same blessings. But, for now, she refuses them. 

One Sunday, before church, the kids felt that perhaps some of their stuffed animals needed a little more spirituality. And since Mike and I wouldn't let them come to sacrament meeting, the kids set them up a little church of their own. We, of course, left for our own church, but I can only assume they were greatly edified at home. After all, they all have their scriptures out, look quite reverent, and rhino was speaking, so ...

Daisy made (with Penny's assistance ... and possibly some tiny bits from Anders) this perfect Kirby Valentine's Day box for Anders for school. He had tried to make one on his own and was horribly discouraged by how far it was from his vision. Luckily Daisy was home for the weekend and saw that it was made right for the boy. (See why I am all at sea with older kids leaving? Heaven knows I wouldn't have pulled off the Kirby box!)

And, as luck would have it, Penny had recently made this bus for a project at school (they had to make a mobile of some sort that could fly down a ramp and hit a wall without an egg inside breaking); and Mette was coaxed into believing it was also just the valentines box she'd always wanted. So that took care of her! (And Summer's class was making big envelopes to collect valentines, so she was already set. Even if disappointedly so.)

And ... a few last pictures. The end. 

(In that last picture the kids are wearing Valentine's shirts that the sister I minister to made for them. Because ... I minister to her, and she ministers to them. Actually, they mostly minister to each other. And I am kind of left out of the equation other than occasionally driving them to drop off pictures, etc. :) We do love Melyssa.)