No specific title because I can't think of one...

We celebrated Mountain Vistas Day today. What? You haven't heard of that specific holiday? In my neighborhood it's an annual event filled with activities such as a fun run, a children's parade, inflatable slides and bounce houses, a climbing wall, a dunking machine, various carnival games. The teenagers, not ones to be overly excited about bouncing in an inflatable with toddlers, had their own activities which consisted of a big volleyball game and then swimming. Then later families come back together again for a big BBQ and, this year anyway, a big family dance. (Can I just say, it was rather fun to watch everyone jam out to YMCA, Single Ladies and Thriller, specifically.)

But this afternoon it was hot. And I was tired. It's been a long-ish, somewhat hard week. Lots of bike riding. Lots of running errands here and there. I've been fighting some sort of bug that has given me a sore throat and made me feel slightly icky all week long. So between all that and other various things, I've been just off. Emotional. Really, really tired. Blah.

After the carnival games we had a couple of hours before the BBQ. I fell asleep. And woke up 45 minutes after the BBQ had already started. Oops. Bryan had sent the older kids over already so I decided to go, by myself, to Cafe Rio to get a salad for dinner. The line was really quite long. And I was still groggy. My exhaustion and crazy week must have shown on my face as I was zoning out...inching ever so slowly towards the front of the line. As I stood there I realized an older gentlemen was trying to get my attention. He said, "I have a task for you." "A task," I repeated? He replied, "I want you to to find one thing to be happy about." And then he smiled. So I thought for a moment. "Well, I left my 3 year old home which means I'm not having to worry about her wanting to run all over the place while I'm waiting in this long line!" And I smiled back at him. "Ah, there you go!" he said. And then suddenly it was my turn to order and I didn't see or talk to him again. But how nice was that? Because I found myself smiling the whole rest of the way through the order line and all the way back to my car and home again. And not because of the fact Lilian wasn't with me. It was the thought of this nice man who had seen someone looking down and went out of his way to do something about it that really made me smile.

Favorite Photo Friday: Amateur photo shoot

I've spent numerous days over the past couple of weeks school shopping with these kids. Relaxed fit jeans for Brandon, skinny jeans for Julianne. A one strap backpack for Brandon, a cool messenger type bag for the girls. Bras for the girls, more and more socks for Brandon. Tennis shoes for Brandon, Converse and slip-ons for the girls. Graphic tees for all the kids. (Brandon says "absolutely NO polo shirts...) New glasses for Julianne...ones that she will deem cute enough to actually wear in class. A cute vest for Rebekah....like the ones all her friends are wearing.
Target, ShopKo, Kohls, Aeropostale, Vanity, Payless Shoes, JC Penney, Justice.

They are growing up so amazingly fast. Sometimes it's nice to look back at pictures like this and remember when they were still little. Summer 2002.

Thursday in the park with the kids

It was only 79 degrees this afternoon. And to celebrate, we got a bucket of KFC and went to the park. (Side note #1: why is it officially now KFC and not Kentucky Fried Chicken? Easier? Just wondering.)

Julianne brought her new wave board. She is remarkably talented on the thing.
Brandon brought his somewhat new roller blades. He's freakishly fast on those wheels.

I had a huge and long conversation with one of my neighbors...all texted....about play group and pre-school. (Side note #2: Lilian calls pre-school "Pretty school." How cute is that?)


While I was alternating between texting and napping, Lilian was apparently rummaging through my purse. Maybe her sisters can teach her the correct way to apply lip gloss.


With the sun beating down just the right amount of heat and a slight breeze blowing, it was all too easy to doze off for a few minutes.

Pretty Julianne suggested that a good ending to our lovely park afternoon, would be to stop at DQ on our way home. Actually, DQ is not on our way home. It is quite out of our way. But we decided that the thought of blizzards, parfaits and shakes made the longer drive worth it. (Side note #3: Why is it officially now DQ instead of Dairy Queen? Easier? Just wondering.)

Accesorizing my bike

My white handlebar grip tape was getting awfully dirty. How fun that my bike store had tape in the exact same teal green color as the accent stripes in my bike? And yeah, okay....maybe it's really girly of me, but I love it. I think it makes the bike that much more uniquely "Sarah's bike." While I was at it I also got a bike computer. Tells me the time, how many mph I'm going, what my average mph is, how many miles I've gone, and how long I've been riding. Very helpful and very fun. Have I mentioned recently how much I love riding my bike??

Early harvesting

I was not happy to see this.

It didn't take long to find the culprit.

Here is the culprit looking appropriately chagrined after a stern talking to about the hows and whens she is allowed to pick vegetables out of the garden.

Favorite Photo Friday: D.C.

I went to Washington D.C. with my sisters Rachel and Melissa back in April of 2004. Me being the history geek that I am, I was in heaven! Museums and monuments, bits of American history lurking around every corner. But the highlight of the entire trip was visiting Thomas Jefferson's house, "Monticello". Which, I suppose if you're going to get technical, is not in D.C. It's officially in Charlotesville, Virginia. But whatever. Details, details.
Rebekah is in D.C. this week. I hope, hope that a trip to "Monticello" makes it's way into their sightseeing plans. Because it truly is worth visiting.

Yardworking

I do this a lot. Weekly. Bi-weekly even, sometimes. Don't I look cool (not) with those monster ear phones? Ear buds don't do the trick. The mower is just too loud. But with these noise cancellation ear phones I can hardly hear the mower. And the music makes the mowing so much more enjoyable. Something to even look forward to sometimes.

I edge too. I've decided I have a love/hate relationship with my string trimmer. I love how it makes my yard look...but I hate IT. I feel like I'm a pretty capable person when it comes to yard work but I struggle mightily to get the string in my trimmer to unspool the way it is suppose to. And so I have to stop every few minutes to take the darn thing apart and pull more string out. And when I'm already irritable from heat...sometimes "colorful" language accompanies my efforts. But it's worth it. Because I am driven absolutely crazy by grass growing up the side of my fence or hanging over my sidewalk. It's one of my pet peeves.

Today Bryan and I spent some time adjusting various sprinklers. This interest in our sprinkling system was brought on by the need to replace one of our sprinkler heads. Which was brought on by my running over it with the lawn mower a few days ago. Sigh. Hopefully the adjustment of the various sprinkler heads will result in the greening up of a few dry, yellow spots in our lawn. But it could just be from the fact that everyone in our town has been struggling with lower water pressure this summer. A result of some on going water-pipe-buried-in-road-construction. In which case all the sprinkler head adjustment won't help a bit. Time will tell. I'm grateful for all the rain this past week. It helps.

But the rain? It also helps my morning glory to grow. And have I mentioned how much I hate-despise-abhor-loathe morning glory? Well...maybe that's a story for another day.

I'll leave you with a collage of pictures Julianne took recently of odds and ends in our yard...

Daredevils

We have a 20 foot tall climbing rope/pole in our backyard. The kids scramble up it easily and often. Which means all too frequently this is my view as I'm looking out the kitchen window while cooking dinner or doing dishes. And I have to admit, my heart always skips a beat.

Favorite Photo Friday: Mom and babies

Can you guess which baby is who?

"The UPS Man"

My Dad wrote this for his ward newsletter this month. It made me cry... I thought I'd add it to my blog to share with you all...but also so I can make sure that I've got it tucked away to keep in the book that I make out of this blog.


The UPS Man

My mother-in-law died this week. Her name was Adele, and you can talk all you want about mother-in-law jokes or horror stories or whatever, but they didn’t apply to her. I loved my mother-in-law. I thought she was a grand lady, and she thought I was, well, just wonderful. Clearly, in my estimation (though perhaps not in others), I was her favorite son-in-law . That is ironic, because I don’t believe I was her first choice as husband for her daughter. Jason Barber was more handsome, for sure, and destined to become a presumably well-to-do lawyer in Florida. Still, my mother-in-law welcomed me into the family fold with outstretched arms and nary a regret when I showed up in Honeyville, Utah, in September 1972 to marry her daughter.

But that’s what she was—a welcomer and lover of souls. She adored her six children, of course, expressing her love for them freely and often, not only in person but also in the e-mails she wrote to keep in daily touch with her family. She looked after the young, down-on-their-luck Hispanic couple who lived in the little home to the side of hers, taking over jars of preserves and produce from her garden, and worrying if they were going to get by. And she looked in daily on Mildred, the little lady in her nineties next door, bringing her mail and newspaper to her each day, and hauling in her garbage cans after the big sanitation truck came by. While my mother-in-law was only a few years younger than Mildred, she didn’t see herself as old so much as blessed, and she felt a need to share what she could and help where she could. That’s why she loved Costco. When she bought things in the oversized packages at Costco, there was enough for herself and plenty to send home with a daughter or son, a grandchild, or a neighbor.

It wasn’t that she was trying to be a stellar member missionary; she hadn’t been to church in a while. But she welcomed her home teachers and visiting teachers, never quite knowing which were which, and never quite caring, because they were good company either way. Her tax accountant was her friend. Her investment advisor was her friend. The guy who took care of her car was her friend. The nice young man and his son who mowed her lawn were her friends. And I think every one of them had, more than once, been invited inside and fed at her kitchen table.

I didn’t know about the UPS man until the day of her graveside services. My mother-in-law found that shopping was easier using mail order catalogs and on-line buying services as she got older. She’d order her Christmas gifts and whatever other items she needed, and the UPS man would bring them to her. At the memorial service everyone in the rather large group of assembled folks introduced themselves: children, grandchildren, cousins, in-laws, dear friends from her growing up days in Brigham City, friends of family, and so on. One nicely dressed man, standing with his wife at the periphery of the large group said, “I’m her UPS man.” He said Ralph and Adele had had lots of deliveries over the years. He was the one who made them. He, too, had been invited inside for cookies or soup or warm bread or whatever else was simmering on the stove or baking in the oven that day. He, too, had been fed at my mother-in-law’s table. He, too, was numbered among her friends.

When the UPS man takes a day off work and drives eighty miles to Brigham City to pay his respects, you know that you have kept well the second great commandment to love your neighbor. A high compliment, Grandma Adele. We will sorely miss you. All of us.