Dear Kids,
I’m looking forward to our Super Sunday dinner this afternoon. If you still need the address, it’s 850 East 550 South in Centerville. It starts at 3:00, and Al is in charge. Bring whatever you like, and prepare to have fun. It won’t be terribly hot, since weather.com is predicting 86 degrees for Centerville at 3pm. Hey, it could be a lot worse.
We had a super rainstorm on Thursday, and some of you probably had it, too. I wanted to kneel down in it and kiss the ground, like the pioneers do in one of the church movies. Funny thing was, it never showed up in the long-range forecast–it just appeared. Looks like the Lord heard my prayers, and the prayers of all the farmers, too. It would be great if there could be another storm soon, to help end the drought. The Jordanelle is depressingly low, and I’m sure the other reservoirs are hurting, too.
My brother Charley is doing really well. He never did have to go to rehab; they just sent him home from the hospital, where he’s recuperating. We hope he’ll recover completely, and there’s a good chance he will. Thanks for your prayers in his behalf.
Dad and I were invited to Paul’s house yesterday afternoon for a barbeque with the Riebens, so we took the truck, and we stopped at the Lifetime store in North Salt Lake on our way and bought the new play yard for the cabin. It’s in a big crate that practically fills the back of Dad’s truck. They loaded it with a forklift, but to take it out, we’ll have to dismember the crate and hand down the pieces. I’m excited to have Dad put it together.
I’m still gasping for breath. My pen pal Chandra in Phoenix sent me a hand-held fan that you hold right in front of your face, and it helps, somehow. There’s no medical reason–it just does. Anyway, my echocardiagram is tomorrow, and my appointment with the pulmonologist is Friday. There’s no relief for the short term, but at least I’m “on the path,” as Sharon put it. Thanks for your prayers for me, and the prayers of your kids, too. I know they help.
Lots of love, Mom
