Complacent

It was a very nice Sabbath Day.  I am so glad I turned around to introduce myself to the woman behind me in church.  We had a commonality which motivated her to move up next to me.  The nursery was crazy but the little ones loved the grapes and cheeseballs and sat so well on their “monkey mats” for my stories.  Micah’s peach crisp forced me into a few helpings much to my delight and chagrin.  I tried to keep up with the Grammie FaceTimes and phonecalls throughout the evening until I ended up in my chair feeling quite complacent indeed that the day was so good.

Company Needed

So what is so different about being home alone for close to two weeks?

~Suki has a permanent position in my bed.

~I never cook a real dinner.

~I watch a lot of Netflix with Suki.

~I always lock the doors.

~I hear my clocks ticking.

I go to bed when I want, I get up when I want, I do what I want.  Dang, when is everyone coming home?  This is so different.

The Gaping Hole

My day really started last night.  It started when I had my crown fall out, not the crown off my head but the one in my mouth.  I awoke, got ready and called Ben Kolean, my dentist, knowing he would fit me in so I could then gather my food and Shari’s food and get to the funeral on time.  After, of course,  I stopped in at my eye doctor for them to grind down my contact lenses a bit.  The recording said Ben was out of state all week but I could contact two other dentists if it was an emergency.  I considered my crown sitting in a baggy to be an emergency.  I called the new doc and got in at noon.  I called Galene and dropped all the food off to her early, went to the eye doctor, went to dentist for a quick cement job and made it to the funeral in Anchorage eight minutes late.  As I sat in the pew I pretended the day had just started, took a deep breath and focused in on what was my most important duty at that moment.

My Harvest

They are simple but sweet.   We planted ten little raspberry twigs that Donna Victors gave us a few months ago.  As I mowed I glanced over to see little splotches of red and got off the John Deere to take a closer look.    Two of the transplants harvested a little batch of red berries.   We couldn’t have asked for more.

Baby Alfie

Words couldn’t have expressed it any better than Kristi did on her Facebook post. An awesome and proud day for Mike and I.  We welcomed our ninth grandchild, baby Alfie, into our posterity.

“Dillon and I experienced the most incredible day of our lives. Alfie Abigail Styers was brought into the world to give us the most precious and privileged job on this earth. On Wednesday, July 27th, 2016 at 6:50am, we became mommy and daddy. I couldn’t have done it without my husband who was there every step of our 36 hour labor journey. He was amazing. She weighs in at 7 pounds 14 ounces and is 20 inches long with long fingers and toes. She is absolutely perfect. This life is so blessed to have you sweet Alfie girl. And always remember, this world has never seen anyone quite like you.”

 

The Crud

Tank has been infected with “kennel cough.”  The downstairs has become the infirmary where I periodically check on him during his coughing/spitting up episodes.  He sounds like he has croup.  While mentioning during a FaceTime with Kyla and Rhea that he was very sick (they heard him too.)I said that I hoped he didn’t die from this.  Kennel cough usually doesn’t require any medications although in older dogs it is very hard on their bodies.    I told them that I was thinking if he died, I wouldn’t know what to do with a dead dog body, being the only one home and the fact Tank weighs 125 lbs.    Rhea, correcting me quickly, retorted,  “David, picks up dead bodies, just call David.”  Duh. . . my son-in-law works at a mortuary.

I bought Tank some treats because he coughed so much.  He LOVES these.

So Sad

I have only read and heard of tragic love stories.  There was Romeo and Juliet and Tristan and Isolde, not forgetting the Titanic as well.  In our day, we just don’t hear many, until today.    A friend, Kim passed away two days ago after suffering a long-term illness and seizure.  She laid in the ICU, close to being brain dead.  Kent, her husband of twenty-seven years gave the “word” that Kim would need to released from her pain and off life-support. Although difficult and painful Kent seemed to understand.  Two days later Kent was found dead of “a broken heart.”    He loved Kim with all his heart.

A Great Tale

Tis the author we love and the words we revere.  Now out, a newly released biography is my choice of reading right now.  “The Truman G. Madsen Story”.  He is a gifted writer, a respected speaker, a faithful teacher and a devoted scholar.  I met this great man about ten years ago and as the story is told (I love to tell it) I was in their home meeting up with his daughter Mindy.  Her son Max, was serving here in our area as a missionary.  I was the transporter of goods and well-wishes.  Brother and Sister Madsen invited me back to their bedroom where we casually watched the BYU Dance Competition that was on TV.  I sat in the rocker, Sister Madsen on the bed and Brother Madsen putzed around while we visited.  I remember the feeling people have when they say they want to “pinch” themselves to make sure it isn’t a dream.  That was me.  I was in his realm. Such a great man with a good grandson and fond memories for me, the ones I live to relive.

This is a picture of Max and his grandpa.  Max and I are Facebook friends.  I look forward to telling him my thoughts about the book.

Coming Home

There is good and bad in returning home.  The good is that after three weeks my house needs my attention.  The bad is that I left my grandsons back in Idaho.  The good is that I can truly clean all the dust from our “construction zone” area.  The bad is that the dust is everywhere and a pain to clean.   The good is that I can pick up Tank from the kennel and finally get him home.  The bad is that he is going to have to go in the back of my Mini and that means “hair.”  The good is that I can get back to my painting.  The bad is that I can’t sit around and watch “Thomas the Train” go round and round or hold baby Maverick one more time.

Only If We Win The Powerball

On our drive back to Boise Mike and I took a hare brained idea to stop in Mountainhome, Idaho and look at the IWS Motorcoaches.  Not only was the tour interesting and educational –  but we were able to see the most beautifully made and meticulously planned out motorhomes.  They were unbelievably gorgeous.  The only problem that seems to present itself now is the cost.  Eeeks.  We were taken into their huge work place where we saw firsthand their workmanship and some hard working guys.  I could see why the boss (who is now driving around Alaska) is so successful.  He runs his business as meticulously as his motorhomes are.  I wasn’t taking pics of the coaches, I was taking pics of the walls in the building.