Sunday, June 2, 2013

Dear Kids,
          Nothing can top the birthday party we had for Dad last Monday! Of course the food was good, and it was a beautiful day, but when Donna started seriously into labor, we knew Dad was going to get the best birthday present of all. Donna held out until we had cut the birthday cake, but then she knew it was time to head for the hospital. The rest of us sat around texting Bevan to see how it was going. It went fast. Baby Dallin was born at 7:34 pm, weighing 8 lbs 5 oz. The timing was so perfect that Donna was all composed and ready for visitors so that people could drop in on their way home from the barbecue. I could see Grandma Allen’s hand in all this. After all, it was her birthday, too!
          Dad and I helped watch Anna until Thursday morning. (Donna had to stay in the hospital an extra night because she had an infection and needed antibiotics.) Anna kept us on our toes. When the weather was nice, it was easy to tend her outside. I could do all my digging and planting and she just toodled along. She even used her own little trowel to dig in the dirt. You can tell she’s helped Donna a lot outside. The last morning, it had rained, and it was freezing cold, and her sandals were covered with mud, and she had no socks left. She’d had all the fun she could have at the cabin, so we took her home.
          Dad enjoyed using the new barbecue, but he didn’t clean off the grease, and an elk attacked it during the night. We found it tipped over in the mud, the tank pulled away, its brand new cover on the ground, and pieces scattered all around. Dad put it all back together and washed it down on the gravel. We didn’t know who the attacker had been until the next morning, when we saw a doe elk licking the gravel. She went over every stone thoroughly. It don’t know if this is a fluke, or if all elk have a thing for barbecue grease. We need to find out more.
          Dad and I have been married 41 years today. I don’t know where the time has gone. We aren’t doing anything spectacular to celebrate, because 41 isn’t one of those landmark numbers, and because we’ve already had so much excitement lately. Life is good!
           Love, Mom