Down to the Cod

The kids had spring break last week so we took an extended weekend and headed to the Cape (or, as my 17-year-old self called it, The Cod. I'm so sophisticated.). We lucked out with glorious weather despite a forecast of rain and spent those days doing what we wanted when we wanted: whalewatching (squinting way in the distance off the beach, see those plumes of water?), bike riding, beach combing, napping, reading, talking, watching movies, and eating well. Reeeeal well. Practically perfect, save for a missing Lauren. And we won't mention how one of us broke a bed, and someone threw a rock at someone else, and a few other moments.

p.s. The light on the Cape is breathtaking. Something about all that light-reflecting water casts a magic glow over the whole thing. Someday I'd like to paint it. First I have to learn how.

Party of one

My people have headed south for the week. G had a conference in DC and the kids are on February break so it seemed like a perfect time for a road trip to the nation's capital. As much as I love a good adventure, I'm brand new in my job and we thought it might not be time quite yet for me to take the week off so, in a strange twist of our usual mode...here I am, holding down the fort. I sent Maddy off with a set of Downton Abbey paper dolls since we would miss watching the finale together. In return, she texted me a photo of the whole cast happily set up on the dashboard of the car. I love her frequent updates and photos of what they're up to.  This morning they attended Supreme Court arguments, had crepes, and walked to Arlington cemetery. How cool is that?

As for me, I've been running a bunch of long-postponed errands (Sam needs a new belt, I need new work pants, etc.), reading addictively on the sofa in the late afternoon, catching up on a few shows on our tivo, and going to bed early.  Wild and crazy, that's me. I'm actually a little overwhelmed with the possibilities every day: get a pedicure? see an early evening movie? go to a museum? explore a corner of Boston? start a project? write? What would you do?

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Changing topics a bit....This week my Sunday School lesson for the 12- and 13-year-olds was about adversity so I was happy to play them one of my favorite talks of all time, The Currant Bush by Hugh B. Brown (fast forward about 2/3 and listen to 17:43 through 28:15 for that portion of the talk). Do you know that one? Many years ago a friend gave me a cassette tape with this particular recording and it got me through many ups and downs in high school and college. It felt like such a personal pep talk (and I've listened to it so often) that I feel like I know Brown personally, with his kind uncle voice and poetic cadence: "God is aware of you, individually. He knows who you are and what you are and furthermore he knows what you are capable of becoming. Be not discouraged then if you do not get all the things you want just when you want them. Have the courage to go on and face your life..."

It's been swimming around in my head lately. So often I feel simultaneously laden with fruit and cut down. It's comforting to remember there's a gardener in charge of all that pruning and growth.

Ancestors 1, Progeny 0

There was precisely one week this summer that would work to go to visit G's parents before they return from their mission this fall so we packed our bags and headed to Nauvoo last week.

Lauren, now gainfully employed as a full-time camp counselor, stayed home with Louie.  (This is why I didn't mention the trip before now, because you know how you never know with the internet?) We missed her. I think she missed us a little but mostly really loved the taste of independence and solo living, judging from all the cereal bowls scattered throughout the house.

I'm pretty sure we'll never ever have the chance to see G's parents in a show again. Every missionary there participates, no exceptions. This is about 639 miles outside of his dad's comfort zone. I don't think raised-on-an-Idaho-ranch civil engineers have "perform in a musical" on their bucket lists. They've been hiding their lights under a bushel, though! They've got comic timing and great projection. Nevertheless, I think Grandpa is counting down the days to his theatrical retirement.

This is where G's parents live. Don't you love the lettering along the roofline? We tried to guess the translation but failed miserably. A party city is very good? 

Maddy in the room where the Relief Society was organized, the upper room of the Red Brick Store.

I feel like I need to confess something. The last day there it was SWELTERING. I've always kind of rolled my eyes a bit about midwest heat and humidity. I mean, I live in Boston; we know humidity (I thought). Let me apologize to all of you midwesterners: Illinois/Missouri heat and humidity is a completely different beast. The final day the heat index was 106 degrees.  We had saved this special family time right before we left to walk down Parley Street where, in 1846, the wagons were all lined up for departure across the Mississippi and into the west. We planned to read the personal accounts on each marker and ponder about our ancestors doing really hard things. Everyone says this is very moving and spiritual. 

But it was so hhhhhhhot. So instead we made Sam get out of the air-conditioned car and yell/read the quotes at us through the window of the car. Believe me, the irony was not lost on us. Sorry, ancestors. We're wimps. We can do hard things but not at 106 degrees. 

Speaking of ancestors, this is the land owned and occupied by my great great grandparents, Richard Bentley and Elizabeth Price, back in the 1840s. (G's mom helped me look up my family's names in the land records and--lo and behold!--he had a nice little parcel of land.)  I wonder what they felt about leaving this beautiful field behind. I wonder if they were in the line at Parley Street. For me, this was the more sacred and personal space, standing where they stood. If things went differently, would this have been my hometown? 

After Nauvoo, we headed north to see some of our favorite friends ever (we are still recovering from their move away years ago) for the 4th of July weekend. Fabulous food, happy & content kids, comfy beds, swimming, movies, and talks late into the night--it was the perfect weekend, so perfect that I only managed to get out my camera once, at the fireworks.

Under Christie's photography tutelage, I took my 387 photos of fireworks:

It was a great trip.

{The only possible downside to the trip (besides the heat or our wimpiness) was that my wallet got lost/stolen on the trip there. Boo for cancelling credit cards and losing my favorite red clutch, yay for having my drivers license in my pocket so I still had id for the plane ride back.}

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Trip miscellany

Read: The Forgotten Garden (Kate Morton), The Summer of the Bear (Bella Pollen) -- recommend both

Heard: Radio Lab podcasts, Vocal Point cd (they performed in Nauvoo), The Civil Wars (my new band obsession)

Ate: Way too much.

Quote: Sam~ (on seeing a photo of himself) "This camera just doesn't understand me" (I completely know how that feels)

Especially memorable: Carthage Jail, Vocal Point, walking through old Nauvoo early every morning with Maddy, adjusting to being a (temporary) family of four, lots of laughs

Oh, London.

Hello! London was quite brilliant, really.

(And now there's a little British-accented voice in my head that dictates I write with a British tilt. Sorry. Cheers.)

I didn't take my computer with me and my phone only had very occasional coverage. Hence, no posts. Hence, the (soon, you'll see) barrage of photos and posts. We're in the middle of re-entry: unpacking and laundry and paying the piper for being gone a week. In the meantime, here are a few moments from our first day+, jet lag and all...

More soon, ready or not.

Climb + jump

When G and the girls arrived in Utah, Sam and I had already spent a blissful week+ with my parents, both at the wedding in California and in Logan at their home. I absolutely loved the time there with them, seeing movies, lunching out, sorting through treasures in the basement and garage.  Sigh. Everyone should go home again now and then for an unhurried span of time.

Once the five of us were reunited, it was off to a W family reunion with Greg's whole clan at Bear Lake.  We stayed together at a big cabin and spent our days at the beach, getting sunburned (wow! you are really close to the sun up there), water-skiing, eating raspberry shakes, going to a hilarious family dance, picnicking, going for walks.  And I'm happy to report that we did not repeat the urinal incident of 2008.

My favorite: one day when we decided to do something a little different and headed north to hike to Bloomington Lake. I've always wanted to do it and have heard so many stories about the glacier lake at the end, complete with rope swing for jumping into the (I'll say it again) glacier waters. It lived up to its hype.  I got swept up in the excitement and actually even jumped in myself. It was fa-reezing but worth it.

 

 

Stop and marvel at the snow in the background and at what a great sport I am!

Climb and jump might be good words to remember the next time I'm lingering at the edges, watching from the beach, and defaulting to bystander status.  That was fun.

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Have a wonderful weekend!

Listen:  Pamplamoose ~ Another Day