A Grammie House

A Grammie house needs to be a house of memories.  It needs toys and ride-ons.  It needs slides for the cousins to slide down and Paige’s playhouse to hide in.  Grammie’s house should always be fun and smell good.  It is the house with a little too much sugar and a few less rules.  It is the house when all is still and quiet we watch Suki show herself, just momentarily of course.  It is where bones are given to Tank through the gate and fingers are licked by the big hairy mutt.  The cupboards always have Lucky Charlies and apple juice and sometimes new sippy cups.  Grammie’s table is a hideout and her couch is long from one end to the other.  Grammie sometimes says, “run and sit in Granddaddy’s chair before he comes back.”   Grammie is working on having a house where all our little grandchildren love to come and stay.  Grammie thought if she got a cool tent the table wouldn’t be a hiding spot anymore.   Wrong Grammie.

First Day Back

Coming home from vacation presents itself with the good and the bad:

1.  sleeping in our bed – good

2.  smelly dishcloth left in the sink – bad

3.  picking up Lane to go to the Troopers and insurance – good

4.  seeing Lane stiff and sore – bad

5.  Having Devin, Brooke and Hatcher walk over for a visit – good

6.  unloading, laundry and suitcases – bad

7.  cuddles with the Suki – good

8.  Major accumulation of dog and cat hair – very bad!!

Good ol Panda

A Panda goodbye in Pocatello as we head to Boise and then home.  We have sadness about leaving the girls, Blaze and Hinckley and the 50th wedding celebration but not once has the thoughts been anything but we need to go home.  It feels like we have been gone longer than a week but we jam packed a lot of things in.  I am so glad I am the type of person that loves going home after a trip.   This time, we need to see Lane.  We need to be there for him, assess the situation and be proactive in his recovery, his insurance issues and Trooper/accident complexities.  It will be good to be home.

Split Second

            Mothers have a fear and we can all affirm it is the phonecall. It is when the person on the other end says your son or your daughter has been in an accident. The air is heavy and silent as you wait out those few dark, cold seconds to listen for any word or intonation so you know where life stands. It is shrilling. I think for a split second this morning the call didn’t floor me, it was just the time.   Dillon called at 10:08 am (Wyoming time) to say that Lane had been T-boned at the cloverleaf. (Parks and Glenn) and had still not been extracted from the car. An old friend, Louis Hoffman witnessed it and stayed through the Jaws of Life until Lane was medevaced to Providence Hospital. Devin and Ben got there at that time. It was there that the word “miraculous” was first used as Lane’s injuries were injurious but not serious, nor life-threatening. It has now taken the public, family and friends to also display such similar sentiments as was given in the hospital as we marvel that such devastation did not take his life. What a wonderful blessing to have a life spared. Jeff Taylor couldn’t have said it better, “He is a man with a purpose in this life. The proof is right there!!” It is time to go home now and be helpful and thankful.

Cousin Time

“We build deep and loving family relationships by doing simple things together, like family dinner and family home evening and by just having fun together. In family relationships love is really spelled t-i-m-e, time. Taking time for each other is the key for harmony at home. We talk with, rather than about, each other. We learn from each other, and we appreciate our differences as well as our commonalities. We establish a divine bond with each other as we approach God together through family prayer, gospel study, and Sunday worship.”

Dieter F. Uchtdorf
Of Things That Matter Most

I will always treasure the sticks, the group selfies, the park and the drives together.  We are building memories and we are working on a bond between each of us as family members.  That truly is what matters most.

Jellystone Park

On our way through Yellowstone Park to Cody, Wyoming to visit my mom. Taking trips with family members floods the mind with memories and recollections and activities so very long ago. I call it Jellystone Park mostly because I loved watching Yogi Bear and Boo Boo. That must have been my childhood glimpse into what this park is all about. We stopped for lunch and Granddaddy and Blaze, with a little help from Hinckley, threw rocks in the water. Bret used to like to throw rocks in the water with Mike up Provo Canyon. A little boy’s wonderment. I’m keeping my eyes open for Yogi. You know he is “smarter than the average bear.”

A Total Splash

We spent the afternoon at Rexburg Rapids and floated away our cares on the Lazy River.  Nothing beats a sweeping photorama of our water-filled activity.

The Rexburg Rundown

I think that every time we come to Rexburg we have the same list of things to do and see.  Let’s see how we are doing.

1.  Deseret Book – books and clothing   ✔

2.  Texas Roadhouse in Idaho Falls  ✔

3.  BYU-I Bookstore  ✔

4.  Crossroads   ✔

5.  Rexburg Rapids (tomorrow’s agenda)

6.  Nielsons  (tomorrow night no doubt)

7.  The guy on the side of the road with awesome fruit  (still looking)

8.  Soda Vine (a new addition on our list)

9.  Cocoa Bean (every day if I had my wish)

Graduation Day

The coolest thing about graduation day for me is watching all the graduates walk in followed by the faculty members in their robes of many colors.  The processional music mixed in with doctors, masters and bachelor’s adornment are just the beginning taste of an evening of accomplishment, pride and yes, “they did it.”  Micah and David!  We are proud!  Way to go!  Nice work!

The Toters

What is odd about this picture?   I know it is a picture of two trash bins at the end of our driveway but the oddness comes in the fact that for the past twenty-three years there have never been trash bins at the end of our driveway.  For twenty-three years we have taken our trash to the dump and now, we don’t.  I loved going to the dump but lately we haven’t been loving the dump prices.  I feel like we are in the ‘cadillac era” of refuse removal.  I feel like the queen of the block.  It gave me a bit of a thrill to just wheel the “toters” down and that was it.  No more tarps.  No more smelly dump bins.  No more “Trashy”, our neighbor who works there.  No more bungees and straps.  It truly is a bitter sweet moment.  Times are changing indeed and I’m not sure when I will get used to the oddness.