Dear Kids,

I’m looking forward to seeing a lot of you this afternoon for Super Sunday here at out house.  The fun starts at 3:00 (or sooner) and you can bring whatever you want in the way of food.  If the menu is lopsided, at least none of us will suffer malnutrition from just one meal.  

And this coming Saturday, the 29th, we’ll have the birthday party for Dad and Dallin at the cabin.  Donna and I will call around among you to see who’s coming and make food assignments.  Let’s plan on eating about 1 in the afternoon, and we’ll demolish the decroded playset after that.  I’m going to re-do the firepit soon, so I might have some of you stacking bricks, too.  If you want to go in on a birthday present for Dad, contact me.  I bought it already. 

And then Dallin’s baptism will be the following Saturday, June 5, at Donna and Bevan’s church.  Dallin was having a little trouble committing himself, and I remembered that he was pretty excited when Lucy was baptized in the river.  So I thought if I suggested the river, he would be more excited about the whole deal.  Instead, he was terrified, but when Bevan reminded him that he could be baptized in a nice calm font with warm water, he agreed to it immediately.  So my suggestion helped, but not like I thought.  I’m not sure what time the baptism’s going to be, but I’ll put it in my letter next week.

Last Tuesday when Dad and I were down in West Valley we drove by our old house on Stillwater, and yes, they’ve painted it white.  It looks really different.  I rang the doorbell and a nice young lady invited us in and let us look around.  What memories!  But they’ve changed so much!  There’s laminate on the living room floor, and all the kitchen cabinets are painted white.  The tower is being taken down.  (I don’t mind.  It was getting dangerous.)  I guess the Guatemalans that bought the house from us ran it into the ground, so this young couple bought it as a fixer-upper.  I’m glad we never saw it at its worst.

Our yard here is finally looking better, more like springtime, and we’ve let the meadow grass grow tall.  The horses stick their necks under the fence and try to get it, because their own pasture is nibbled down to the ground.  Sonia and Scout creep through this jungle, and when they meet up, they leap into the air, and Scout chases Sonia across the yard.  Donna tells us that tall meadow grass is prime breeding ground for voles, but that’s ok–more protein for the cats.  

Love to everybody, Mom