Thursday, August 7, 2014
Green fields that are straddled by giant metal irrigation systems looking like giant insects to me, blast by on either side, and rolling brush extends to the grey horizon. We have been gone a whole week and the van has become our little rolling world. It feels like we have been gone months.
We loved our visit with Melissa and Kevin and their family. Kevin said that seeing Guy and I sitting in their living room was natural, "just as it should be". Our visit was painfully short, but in one day we packed in a stop at the Provo Farmers Market, a barbeque and a trip to a giant rec center that the kids loved.
We stopped by to see Guy’s nephew, Jack, and his spouse Brian, to sample their amazing Macaron cookies (no, not Macarooooon, silly, Macaron, like in ‘gone’, which they were in only a few minutes). They were crisp on the outside, with a thin shell that collapsed into a chewy soft but delicate center when you bit in, then swept you away with delicious cream filling. Brian is the baker extraordinaire, and Jack does the awesome photography and artwork to promote the business. Please, if you live in Provo, Utah, go see them on Saturdays and buy some. These guys deserve to have their business soar!
Oh, my, I started talking about food there and got completely distracted. Food does that to me.
Oh, yes, the rec center. It is a really big swimming/waterslide place with a lazy river and nice warm water. The boys even talked me into going down the scary slide and jumping off of the rock cliff, which I hated, but when Ethan asked if I was going, I couldn't say no. I want him to remember his mama as fearless. No, not fearless, because there are a lot of things I am afraid of. I guess Brave is the word, because you can be afraid and brave at the same time. I stepped out on the ledge and just kept going because I hate the feeling of pending doom. I stepped off the edge and felt like I was dying for about 3 seconds, and then hit the water. Did I mention I hated it? Ethan will never know.
Clockwise from top left: Ethan, Ellie, Adam, Adam and me, The Pink Blur of Fear.
As we made our way about town, we found ourselves in the old neighborhood where Guy and I started out our two decades of marital bliss. Though the house has changed, the memories are clear as ever. We lived in the unheated basement apartment, and kept each other warm through our first winter together (now we have a whole bunch of sweaty kids to heat up our place!).
The next day we went to church with Melissa’s family and then after lunch we cried out our goodbyes. I hate leaving Melissa. It rips out a chunk of my heart and rolls over it with the car. Go out in the driveway, Melissa, and scrape up my heart, please.
Next we headed North to visit Guy’s cousin Katie and Aunt Penny. I have to stop here for a moment and say how much I like them. Penny claims to be somewhere in her seventies, but is so cheerful and active and spunky, I call her 65 just to giver her a senior discount. Katie is kind and sweet, and we spent an evening telling stories and laughing. We spent that night with Aunt Penny, and in the morning after a tour of her impossibly beautiful gardens and Uncle Wayne's art and woodworking studios (yes, two studios) and a breakfast of fresh fruit (from their trees) and homemade jam on toast (from, you guessed it, their berries) we hit the road for Rexburg, Idaho.
There my sweet Aunt June waited with a meal all ready, courtesy of Uncle David. My Aunt gave me a quick look at all of the genealogy I will be inheriting. I hope that woman lives a long, long time and gets most of it all done! It was an entire room-full. She showed me pictures of ancestors and rattled off their names like they were old friends. She is a gold mine of connection to the past; my past. Now that my mom is gone, she is the only connection left.
This was my view for most of the 2000 plus miles. The glorious sky, from dash-board to rear-view mirror, and my silly elevated foot. Not to worry, we stopped every two hours to walk around and keep my blood pumping.
More mad-capped mayhem (or maybe just a little bit of car sickness) to come.
To be continued...