Happy Anniversary

"before a man marries, he's ... like a tree in the forest.
He stands there independent; An entity unto himself.
Then he's chopped down, loses his branches and bark.
Lands in the river. Then he's taken to the mill.
When he comes out, he's no longer a tree.
He's the vanity table, the breakfast nook, the baby crib,
and the newspaper that lines the garbage can."

Brad Allen, Pillow Talk

Thanks Cody, for cutting off your branches and becoming the newspaper that lines the garbage can, for me.

Signing Off

We are moving. This week. Very busy. Have lots to say. No time to say it. Signing off for a while. Until next time. From Virginia. Loves to yinz.

For Auntie Shells

Michelle requested some pictures of Morgan, but since I don't want Claire to grow up with a complex, I will include some pictures of her, too. I tried to take some of Morgan smiling, because she has a beautiful smile, but sometimes, she is too elusive.

(so pretty)

( Morgan's scowl)

(You can almost see the smile)

(I can't help it, I think she is so cute)

Claire is my big girl , all graduated from preschool today (and in which I bawled like a baby as I picked her up and said goodbye to her teachers. Embarrassing, I know).

I love my girls.

Any Better Than That

Last week I said goodbye to a good friend, the first of many good friends that I am going to have to say goodbye to in the next three weeks. And they are a great group of friends. So much of what I have loved about living here are the people I have met and who I have forced to be my friends. We are quite the diverse group. One, a former granola wanna-be who actually tried to make. . .get? form?. . what do you call the process of obtaining dread locks? One, who was voted best dressed in high school. One, who once threw all her ex-boyfriends stuff off the balcony. One, who, simply because she thought it looked good, tasted a bar of soap. One, who toted around her American Doll whilst wearing her matching AG dress. One, who claimed for a period of several months in college that she was from Boston, when really she was from exotic Idaho Falls. One, who once worked at Abercrombie and Fitch because she is a size 0. One, who worked at McD's, and ate a hot fudge sundae and a cheeseburger everyday. . . and was much bigger than a size 0. One, who was Utah's Junior Miss. And one, who set fire to an elementary school when she was little (no, I made that up, though I do know someone who did that). I will miss my friends deeply; I will mostly miss the laughter (especially about the eating of the soap).

(Crepe night, our last night together before Jana left. Please ignore my giraffe-esque neck, my not-done hair, and my crappy outfit. It was just one of those days, so back off! But the crepes were delighful.)

I have two more Sundays in our ward. I can't really fathom what it is going to be like to not go there anymore and see the familiar faces, the families and their unassigned-assigned seating. I am still trying to get use to the feeling of primary not being constantly in my thoughts. I served in primary the entire time I have been here and I have loved it. I will miss the primary kids, who like to say whatever rolls across their tongue at any time, to the chagrin of their parents, but much to my delight.

Our house. It is small, it smells like your grandma's house, has a random toilet in the basement, and it doesn't believe in the value of closet space, but it has been our first house. Though Cody may not agree completely with me, I have loved it for all that it has been. I know the house pretty well. I know how to do a dance on the floor upstairs so as to not wake up Morgan by avoiding on the creaky parts. I know I can hear my kids in any part of the house at any time of the day. I know that I can also hear the neighbors cursing in the street at four in the morning (it's happened occasionally). I know where Claire pooped on the carpet right before Morgan was born (I never blogged about it because it was too traumatic!) I know where the best places to hide are when we play turkey hide-n-go seek. I know how peaceful our yard is during a summer evening. I know I will miss our house. It has been a place of many firsts for us and holds memories that I will always look back on with happiness. And having said that, I am SOOO excited to sell it!



In the movie, McLintock, John Wayne, a wealthy cattle baron, is explaining to his daughter why he isn't going to leave her much of what he owns. It pretty much sums up the way I feel about our home, and life here in PA, minus the cow spread:

What I'm going to give you is a 500 cow spread on the Upper Green River. Now that may not seem like much, but it's more than we had, your mother and I. Some folks are gonna say I'm doin' all this so I can sit up in the hereafter and look down on a park named after me, or that I was disappointed in you - didn't want you to get all that money. But the real reason, Becky, is because I love you, and I want you and some young man to have what I had, because all the gold in the United States Treasury and all the harp music in heaven can't equal what happens between a man and a woman with all that growin' together. I can't explain it any better than that.

We may not have had a lot of worldly wealth, and we may not have had a garage (or dishwasher, or air conditioning) , but we have had so much more together here, as a family.

And it only makes us that much more excited to move into a home that actually has air conditioning (I am almost shedding a tear at that thought).