It’s one big party at the cabin these days. Kim and the kids have moved in full-time, and the fun never stops. Somebody’s always bringing home ice cream. There are trips back and forth to the swimming pool. Nobody ever goes to bed at night. I ought to know, because I’m practically there full-time too, until the wedding. I’m still mixing up cement and mortar, and raking rocks and dirt. My rock wall is almost done, and I’m making a little patio on the west side of the greenhouse. The yard doesn’t have that “finished” look yet, but every day it’s looking a little better. Bentley is my little companion. He follows me around, quoting from Charlotte’s Web. It’s always the same lines: “The rat is desperate! The rat is trapped! The rat needs to stop calling himself ‘the rat.’” Bentley is way more entertaining than my audiobooks.
Paul gave his 2-week notice at his job. He’s finally had enough. A couple of days ago, a 150-lb. hammer fell from three feet up and barely missed his head. It grazed his shoulder and his leg as it fell. He was lucky. But he had already given his notice before that happened. Yesterday, his “driller,” Dean, heard about it. He was really ticked off. He said, “Paul, Winston Churchill always said, ‘Never give up!’ Think about it, Paul. Never give up!” Fortunately, Paul is wise enough to know when it’s time to give up. He may go back to a glass company he worked at for SOS–at least it would be inside.
Donna and Bevan are house sitting at her boss’s place this week. He was delighted to find house sitters that wouldn’t be drinking his wine, and he’s given them gift certificate to some nice eating places. Their main responsibility is taking care of the dogs. Donna has lots more phone calls at work, too, since she’s the head honcho while the boss is out of town.
Last Saturday Andy showed up at the cabin. He had taken Renae to teach a quilting class in Midway, and he was heading up to the Uintas when he remembered we were close by. So he stopped in and talked for a while. He has a new truck that he’s very proud of. It’s a Dodge Dakota with a quad cab, and he demonstrated how the back doors open all the way, and the back seats fold up to make more room for stuff. He says his truck is way more sensible than my brother Ben’s, because it’s not a “monster.” He said it drives like a mini van.
Dad and I have a new Sunday night habit: riding our bikes around the neighborhood. Now that the new homes are built in Dorothy Grant’s field, you can ride all around our ward without going out onto 40th West. And other people seem to be out on bikes, too. Last Sunday night we were toodling down Sugar Beet Drive when Lonnie and Gail Yeaman went sailing by on their bikes. Lonnie called out his home teaching report to Chuck as he rode by. Hey, they report home teaching by e-mail and phone and fax, and now it’s cool to do it by bike.
We’re really looking forward to the wedding next weekend. I’m anxious to see everybody, and it’ll be fun to hang out with Neil’s family and friends, too. Till then, we’re “doin’ great and lovin’ it.”