Sunday, February 9, 2014

Mists of Avalon

We just had a luxuriously slothful Sabbath evening wherein the TV was tuned to the Olympics for hours straight, we had nachos and cookies for dinner, and the kids played happily. Mark even came downstairs (more later on why this is a treat) and spent some time leafing through the blurb book of my first year of blogging. Those unimportant days now seem so precious. And long-gone. Shrouded in nostalgia like the mists of Avalon. One reason blogging has become harder is that the main content of my life is harder to write about. Potty training resistance is horrible, but still somehow kinda cute. Teenagers veering toward the deep end? Not so much. It sort of feels like our family's heyday has passed. Gone of the days where I was trailed by a row of cute children. Now Roscoe is missing, and our row is more motley. Nevertheless! One day the mists of nostalgia will descend on these days, too, and already I'm kicking myself for everything this blog has missed.

So! Random updates:

- Mark has been hobbling around in those big orthopedic boots. Actually, mostly he's been lying in bed with his two feet on the cute little ottomans I made for the playroom. It's a long, long, ongoing saga. Short version: twisted his ankle while running six months ago; seemed like no big deal for quite a while; started rapidly declining at Christmas; descended through using a cane, crutches, one boot, now two; MRI confirms tendon tear; spent about two weeks completely bedridden; now usually goes to work but gets dropped at the building door, immediately gets into a wheelchair, and comes home to head right back up to bed. One surgeon suggests a major skeletal reconstruction of foot; we're getting a second opinion in a couple more weeks. This could go on for a long time.

- Roscoe has been out on his mission for four months. He is in Esquel, Argentina, and seems to be doing great. His sendoff was wonderful. Apparently I had done most of my grieving in private and in advance and he and I both faced the day with excitement. Really, I think we were both just done with the endless buildup.

 We said our goodbyes on the lawn of the Provo Temple before dropping him at the MTC.
 Watching Logan and Roscoe say goodbye was...intense. They've been "Roscoe-and-Logan" forever!

Little Betsy can't really fathom any of this and really mourned him for a long time. Only a few weeks ago, she told me, "I'm not sad about Roscoe anymore." But she mentions him nearly every day and asks when he'll come home. She's expecting him to walk through the door any day. Twist the knife!

- Resume business, band, piano lessons, basketball practice, homework, choretime, church callings, Target runs, trying to keep the house clean, managing Jesse's tantrums--all still happening.


  1. Love to hear from
    You like this. It is a precious record.

  2. Love to hear from
    You like this. It is a precious record.