October: Potentially Creative, Definitely Trashy

 I love this face.

 Watching the garbage man.

 Another face I love.

 At the San Antonio temple. This was the day we drove and drove and found out they were closed for maintenance. Ha!

 Carving pumpkins.

 Levi dressed as a garbage man for Halloween.

 Complete with garbage truck.

 Nothing quite like disposable costumes. You can't tell, but Lincoln went as garbage.

And one day, I'll write again--but probably not on this blog! Might as well be honest. Oh dear.

We loved visiting Pflugerville Lake. Levi loved it until he tripped in the water--but gravel/sand castles distract anyone from discomfort. Nothing like swimming with minnows. It's been so long since I swam laps; I forgot how great that is. Lincoln sat on Wesley's lap in the water and splashed happily away.

The boys! 

Slithering

Books you should definitely read

The Wild Iris by Louise Gluck: Most deserving of the Pulitzer, the poems are told through the perspective of garden flowers with some vespers and matins interspersed so that you consider what it means to be in the likeness of a Gardener, what it means to grow, and our reliance on heaven and earth. Beautifully done and artfully progressive. Love it. I first read it about six years ago and thought, "eh, I don't know," but I finished it earlier this week and thought: "OH WOW." What was wrong with me before? This is why literature generally deserves a second try. I didn't appreciate The Great Gatsby until the third time through.

Glimpses into the Life and Heart of Marjorie Pay Hinckley edited by Virginia H. Pearce: One of those books that I love for the feeling and reality of the person. The writing is not meant to be artistic, but to clearly convey a life--which it does, so I'm satisfied. (Okay: we all know I'm a book snob, but if something fulfills its own purpose, how can you judge it by other terms unless to praise it? What frustrates me is when fantasy/cliched plot things pretend to be great works of art when they struggle with something as simple as syntax!)

Eats, Shoots and Leaves by Lynne Truss: I'm laughing all over the place and only on page one.

This week my dad officially retired from 27 years of working in the Idaho court system; he dedicated the last 18 to the Idaho Supreme Court as an administrator. Our family vacations included conferences to Sun Valley (I saw Oksana Bauel soon after her Olympics and almost toppled over), conferences to Couer d'Alene, conferences to Washington D.C., and family gatherings in southeast Idaho. I loved them. I loved watching the judges. I loved hearing about legislation. Until recently, I never really thought about the different perspective (politcally and socially) Dad's work gave me.

On Tuesday my parents attended their last conference in Sun Valley. The justices and others read their goodbyes: Mom called it a sob fest. Today, Dad started his job as a trial court administrator in Utah. He continues to work because he loves it (he might go crazy without it?) and now they're closer to my siblings, their siblings, their parents.

I thought I would feel weirder about this. I packed a bunch of books (yes, my parents still haul around part of my library and neither of us charge the other for the service) in May. The house is up for sale. And my kids won't remember my parents living in Idaho. Strangely, that's okay. I'm proud of my dad for the integrity he's shown, the work ethic he's taught, and his constant dedication. I'm proud of my parents for doing what they know is right even when it is inconvenient, scary, and new.

All of this has me thinking about my actions and how they impact my children. Will my yaywhos remember Texas? Maybe not. Will they remember potty-training? I hope not. But they will remember if they felt secure, loved, educated, valued. They will remember if we had fun and worked hard. They will remember if I lash out (even if they don't remember when I speak softly!). I don't expect them to be proud of me, but I hope they aren't ashamed. I pray they know I do my best and that I'm learning too. What do they see and what do they care about? Will they even analyze this before they parent and grandparent? Will they care that I'm the one who scrubbed the floorboards and made bread? Will they care that we read scriptures together and acted out crazy scenes from our imaginations? Will it matter to them that Wes and I memorize things like morse code so that they can be better, so that they'll foster curiosity and follow their passions? Will they feel how much we believe in them?

My parents told me a few days ago that you learn the gospel and then you have children to see if you can actually live it. They succeeded. Will I? By grace and mercy, I pray.

Out West

Balloons!

Cousin Bodie and the baby

Slide!

Classic

Cole Family

Two! (unofficially)

Great-grandma Buttars and Lincoln

 Great-grandma Keller and Lincoln

Birthdays

Levi putting on Morgan's shoe for him. The joys of cousinhood.

Sneaking M&Ms from Great-grandpa Keller

Peter and the piano

Our attempted family picture

One day, I'll write again.

Kisses

Washing the car

At the San Antonio temple

Feet up and fancy free.

I'd like to note that I do still think, I just haven't been able to think at a computer, on the blog.

Books of note:

Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson. As gorgeous or better than I remember it, but leaves you with a sense of strong melancholy because you realize, finally, that it is about leaving that thing we call home and what it means to actually "keep" people and places--perhaps that is just a form of haunting.

To the Rescue: The Biography of Thomas S. Monson by Heidi Swenson. Loved learning about the prophet, predictable syntax, needed 6 more months of revision for organization. But good information.

The Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain. Fun and kind of geeky. Not a favorite, but worth reading. Felt like a testing ground for Twain.

Jane Eyre by Charolotte Bronte. Love it. I don't think I'd want to tell ghost stories with the Bronte sisters; I might start believing them. I first read this book before age 12 and remember being completely shocked about the woman in the attic. How did I miss all the clues? Ah, first reads.