It's like this...

Eagles, hummingbirds, bluejays, seagulls, ducks, Herons, crows, gold finches, seahawkes, red winged black birds, crabs, sea lions and vikings are just a few of the wild life we saw this weekend while at the beach cabin. The only surprise were the vikings. The tide was fairly high when we arrived. The ferry line was long---but we didn't mind. Our destination is always worth the wait. I've not been well all week and so this was just as much a time for me to rest as it was for the four of us to get away from the city and let go of the stress for a few days. The weather cooperated, for the most part. It rained at night and gave us beautiful days. I slept a lot, or sat in a nice beach chair in the sand with a blanket and my Kindle. I walked a bit when I felt up to it and collected some beautiful sea glass. Do you see the rose colored glass? That's a rare find. Later I also found cobalt blue and light blue, both unusual. I'd love to find some red glass some day...

Sweating.... Freezing... Sweltering... Arctic... Rinse, lather, repeat. We had a death in our four footed family today. Kellogg was an aged orange tabby with little body weight when he was left to us by a neighbor that moved and didn't want to take him along. "He's an outdoor cat, he'll never come in your house" said the man. When it got cold, I opened the back door and coaxed him inside. How could I not? Although this poor ball of fur had fur, that was about all he had. And he stank. He smelled like death, only worse. So Old Kellogg became an indoor cat. He had a meow that sounded more like a croak crossed with a hoarse chirp. If I wasn't sure cats don't smoke I'd have pegged old Kellogg for a 3 pack a dayer. My father alternated between yelling at the orange ball of fur to stop following him and caring for him in a very tender way. You'd have to know my father to understand. Ever since we were little, my father has been the ...

When I got up yesterday morning, I knew something was a little off. Phooey. Felt like the flu. Just a touch---maybe I was ok. I had to go to church because my Ashley Rose was giving her first ever talk in Sacrament meeting. Lance had to work so he couldn't be there. Plus, I like going to church. It fills me up for the week ahead. Hey little nasty flu bug, you have some very poor timing. So I went. And since Lance couldn't be there, I recorded Ashley's talk for him. I'm pretty proud of my littlest angel. I think she gave a wonderful talk for her very first time. I'm not sure you can hear it very well---but if you want to turn it up and listen, you'll hear something sweet and precious from a twelve year old with great faith. After she was done I made arrangements to have someone else take my Primary class and I went home, where I've been ever since. Oh nasty flu bug. Not. A. Fan.

Late last night my cell phone rang. It was Seattle calling. Literally, Seattle. No, I'm not making this up. His name is Seattle and he's a neighbor two doors down. He's lively and fun. Plus he likes to walk our dogs and he's a great chef. The fact that he was calling me at nearly 11pm was a bit unsettling. The first thing he said was, "Is everything ok over there???" Yes, there were at least three question marks after his interrogatory plus several exclamation marks. I told him we were fine--as far as I knew. "BUT YOU HAVE A FIRE TRUCK IN FRONT OF YOUR HOUSE!" News of that nature is guaranteed to make you put your pants on--if you're not already wearing them. I wasn't. Wearing them I mean. It was bedtime. I threw them on and dashed up the stairs. Ok, 'dashing' is a bit optimistic for what I actually did. It was more like lumbering up the stairs at a speed not hitherto known by my injured knee in many months. I...

It's Mother's Day today. Meh. I'm having one of *those* days where I feel like a failure. I didn't do this, I didn't do that, I should have done this and that wouldn't have happened, yada yada yada. I realize that there are many things I have no control over...but still. I left sacrament meeting and went to visit my mom in her garden of stone. Her grave can been seen from where our church building is--so I generally look over in that direction each sabbath morning before going into church and mentally say good morning to my mom. As I stood over her grave crying, I heard a car stop behind me and turn off. A car door slammed and then a gentleman was standing beside me. He handed me a red carnation and said Happy Mother's Day. I said nothing. I couldn't. He stood there in silence with me, arms folded across his chest. After a minute or so he said, "You must be a very good person to care this much." Then he patted my shoulder, got ba...