Hey check out this party. Oh wait – it is at OUR house??? I scrolled through Facebook knowing full well that Rhea had invited some friends over for the 4th of July. The stark realization of having your home address out there for the world to see what a little heart shaking but I fully trust in these kids and her. I hope. I think. I pray. I inquired as to how many kids would probably be coming and she really didn’t know. Here is the kicker. We will be out of state.
And I thought it was just me who did this?? I felt so much more normal when the I read the sign at Raising Canes that was perched on our adjacent table. “Don’t worry, you can still dunk your toast in the Cane’s sauce at the other tables.” I would sheepishly dip my toast thinking I was the only one who did this. Aaahhh – to be normal or are we all a little weird?
Oh the memories. We came off the soccer fields and there was an ice cream truck. Boy we do know about ice cream trucks after our middle son purchased his beauty up in Fairbanks one summer and drove it down. My heart literally skipped a few beats hearing “Turkey in the Straw” blaring up our driveway and realizing his dream had become a reality. We had a lot of fun with “Big D’s Tasty Treats” that summer – he surprised the kids at Big Lake Elementary one afternoon, his grandpa rode with him selling ice cream one day and loved it and I would often promise the kids an ice cream if they got all their work done and then Dillon reaped the monetary benefits. I think the most classic memory though was when Dillon and a buddy drove to Seward and picked up a hitch hiker. The guy called a friend and said “Dude – you will never believe what I’m doing – I’m riding in an ice cream truck to Seward, Alaska – dude – this is awesome!!!!
I learned more about patience today. I drove into Anchorage to pick up some parts for Mike from BMW. The parts were paid for and waiting for me. I obediently rung the bell and I waited. After about five minutes an elderly gentleman appeared and said that someone would be with me shortly. After another five minutes an office gal inquired if I had been helped to which I replied “not really” all the while maintaining my cool. After another five minutes a senior salesman asked if I had been helped to which I replied very nicely “not really.” After another five minutes the kind elderly gentleman asked me again if I was still waiting to which I replied very patiently, “yes.” I told him I was picking up parts that were already paid for. After ten more minutes he came out with the parts quite confused and apologetic and carried them to my car. I got in and sort of wondered what had just happened and how did I endure standing at a counter for thirty minutes in a prominent establishment?? I’ll just keep pondering this quote. “A man who is a master of patience is master of everything else.”
It was just a night. A Friday night. Micah, David and the kids picked up the pizza we ordered and came on over. It was one of those great not very planned nights. Everyone else was busy doing things and I had Paige and Remi for the evening. We built a fire and we had smores. The kids enjoyed it so much. Just a simple unadorned family night together. Gwendolyn walked on over and the two G’s were as cute and entertaining as always. It was such a great Friday night.
We endured two great hardships last year. One was living through Covid with all its restrictions, changes and learning processes. The other was going to Costco and not having the tables out to meet and eat a slice of pizza. Costco’s snack bar is the hub. It is where you always meet a person you know, where you offer a random stranger a seat for him and his condiment filled polish dog, where the kids need a break from shopping and are promised a smoothie if they just let mom finish her shopping. We overcame Covid to the best of our abilities and today I triumphed probably a little too loudly to see the “hub” is back in action.
The new Mary Jo is a red head. Let me explain. Our old refrigerator that was banished to the furnace room when we bought a new one for the kitchen years ago became the “Mary Jo.” The name comes from my mother-in-law who always had her spare fridge filled with sodas and waters. Our Mary Jo started to die (may she rest in peace) a few weeks ago. We sort of had a heads up because the freezer went out and then our waters in the fridge just weren’t crisp and cold. Let me introduce our new red-headed Mary Jo who lives in the play room. We will do anything to make our grandchildren happy. Look Grammie bought us sodas and waters.
Have you ever driven in an area or an interesection and questioned if your understanding of the traffic signs was correct? I have many times. It usually happens that I’m trying to figure things out, in the middle of the move and I hear a honk and I get frustrated and just drive forward. I’m often heard apologizing for my error to myself and before long I’m back in the same predicament again. And then . . . the other day I realized I was not alone in my angst. This was one little area that always seemed a little confusing and now it is clear. Thanks for the sign attachment, maybe we need more of these.
While emptying the bag of my little green Ryobi mower I noticed my ferns were thick and ravishingly beautiful. I’ve written about ferns before. I just love them. I could have ferns around my entire house and no flowers and I would be in jungle heaven. This person who wrote this is so amazing – these words are so perfect. So listen in. “Just what is it about ferns that captures our imagination? Probably not their ancient lineage, stretching back far beyond dinosaurs to a time that is impossibly distant for most people’s comprehension. Is it their sheer diversity of form, then, or the natural grace of their curving fronds, or the fascination of an uncoiling fiddle-head that is the secret to their appeal? Or do names such as “adder’s tongue,” “moonwort,” “maidenhair” and “spleenwort” appeal to our psyches by hinting at secret uses in a mystical past? Whatever the reason, ferns today enjoy a popularity among plant-lovers that is rivaled only by orchids and roses.”
Tara Truly 