I Got Some " 'Splainin' " to Do ... About Four Years' Worth

Well, I knew this day would come: the day I felt extremely guilty for taking so long to write, and then writing for so long it will take you a day to read it.  I'll try to do better in the future. For now, here's the news on the kids ...

****Jack****

Jack started at Oklahoma Christian University in January of 2020, and managed to get in almost a full semester before the world shut down for COVID-19.  It was not an auspicious beginning.  

He diligently plugged away at the math and science courses required for a chemistry degree, but spent evenings debating current events and the state of the world with a friend -- perhaps the only other student there as politically conservative as Jack.  He joined a couple of Dungeons & Dragons campaigns and considered joining the military, or at least rushing a club.  His favorite class was Intro to American Politics.  Then there was that career aptitude test he took that came back with a fairly specific recommendation: preacher or lawyer.  After all, he loved to argue. I mean, persuade.

In his second semester, the friend transferred to a college closer to family, leaving Jack adrift.  But as luck would have it (and also because his parents were fervently praying all that tuition money wasn't going to result in just a degree), he happened to land in a math class with a shy new student from Elgin, Okla.  She sat in the front, with the smart kids.  He sat in the back, with the loudmouths.

"What's her name?" inquiring minds (mainly his Aunt Amanda and parents) wanted to know.

"Sarah," he said.

"Sarah what?"

"Uhhh.  Sarah Moore." Well, that was no help.  It might as well be Sarah Smith.

"What does she look like?"

Jack pulled her student photo up on the OC website.

Amanda and I looked at it.

"What nationality is she?"

"Uhhh. I don't know."

We glared at him. "She's something.  How can you not know?!"

He called back some days later. "Her mom is Filipino," he said.  

He'd found possibly the only other Filipino student at OC.  It was a sign.  

Maybe if Sarah had been a little more superstitious, she'd have run.  But she wasn't superstitious.  She wasn't even suspicious.  

So let me tell you about her.  Sarah graduated valedictorian from high school while simultaneously completing her freshman and sophomore years of college online during COVID.  She attended Oklahoma Christian on music scholarship (for bassoon), and seemed to breeze through all the math and science courses required for her degree in mathematics and a minor in chemistry.  She graduated in two years while tutoring Jack through his upper-level math classes.  

Jack began driving her to and from home (she lived off campus).  He charmed her family by mowing their lawn -- causing Jim to scratch his head and wonder aloud what it would take to get him to voluntarily mow our lawn -- and helping her dad repair his rental homes.  He ate anything Sarah's mom, Lani, cooked, including all the Filipino foods I never made for him.  He became a one-man cheering section for Sarah, showing up at her formal concerts (in all their somber dignity) waving a giant foam number one finger with Sarah's name scrawled across it.  

Jack and friends after a Debate Chapel

Inspired by her focus and drive, Jack finally admitted his heart wasn't in chemistry, and changed his major to political science.  He took an interest in good grades. He joined mock trial, a competition in which participants simulate a real trial; he applied for internships; and he started studying for the LSAT's.  Then, last spring, with Sarah's family's blessing and his own family's collective sigh of relief, Jack and Sarah got engaged. 

This past summer was a testament to Jack's perseverance.  The summer internship he thought he'd secured fell through.  He couldn't seem to break the score ceiling he set for himself on the LSAT.  His participation in a Christian leadership seminar that cut well into early summer made it impossible to find a job afterwards. 

One unexpected bright spot was his participation as a crew member of Oklahoma Christian's senior engineering team at the Baja SAE competition in Oshkosh, Wisc.  He was needed for his welding experience, which none of the engineering students had.  For one long, rainy weekend, Jack slogged through mud, making repairs and structural adjustments to the dune buggy during its trial run. The OC team didn't place, but the knowledge he'd made a real difference in the team's performance was the confidence boost he needed to keep him going.

 

At the Baja SAE competition, Oshkosh, Wisc.

Jack started his senior year in August, and scored well on the LSAT.  The internship that fell through in the summer was offered to him as school began.  He's vice-president of mock trial, regularly debates at Debate Chapel on campus, and is beginning the process of applying to law school.  

After graduation, Sarah landed a job at Hobby Lobby corporate headquarters in Oklahoma City, programming computer software.  She and her mom are planning the wedding for next year.  Recalling my own wedding (see "A Honey Bucket Wedding" on the Pages entries of this blog), I'm happy to sit this one out. 

****Woody****

With Jack off to college, it was up to Woody to represent the Manry boys at home, and by that I mean he had to increase his shower time to make sure the water bill didn't drop.  He had to forget until the last moment every Wednesday that it was trash day; ensure all the drinking cups were in a state of half-full of water or else days-old chocolate milk downstairs; and methodically empty the refrigerator of ready-to-eat food.

We were determined to keep our vacation plans for the fall of 2020, in spite of COVID, and Woody accompanied us to Gatlinburg, Tenn., where we rented a darling little A-frame cabin perched at the top of a treacherous hill whose driveway dumped right out onto a hairpin turn in the road that locals and visitors alike took at 30 miles an hour.  Also, the cabin wasn't level or square, so no matter which way your bed faced, you woke up several feet from where you started.  You might find you were squashed up against your husband (in my case) or sister (in Lucy's case), who were hanging onto the edge of the bed for dear life.  Woody, whose sleeping habits have always confounded the rest of us (whether he's on hardwood floor with yoga mats and exercise balls on top of him, or else underneath the couch cushions, but still on the couch), was not bothered by this at all since he slept alone, although the one night he slept with his head downslope, he grumbled about not being able to breathe.

So long as we were outdoors, we didn't mask up, so we did a lot of hiking in the surrounding trails.  These were heavily trafficked, but those hikers tended to be the athletic sort who looked like they could run miles uphill on just a snack pack of peanuts and a bottle of water.   So you can imagine the expressions on their faces when Jim and Woody opened their backpacks and proceeded to pull out entire boxes of Little Debbie snack cakes, Diet Cokes, and Dr. Peppers.

We also fit in a side trip to Seaside, Fla., the picturesque little town in The Truman Show.  We're pretty sure I picked up COVID at Disney World the week before, because I was sick at Seaside. It ended up raining buckets while we were there, so Jim and the kids graciously allowed me to laze around in the rental while they hit the donut shop every morning and brought back atrocities such as maple-glazed donuts sprinkled with bacon.  In the afternoons and evenings they binge-watched Community (a hilarious series about misfits at a community college starring Joel McHale and Chevy Chase), resulting in all the kids and Jim being able to quote entire monologues for any occasion, almost as effectively as they can quote Futurama.

Woody graduated high school certified in entry level brakes and engine repair, thanks to his time at Wichita State University Technical College.  Infinitely more useful as skills go, he could find and (mostly) repair a tire puncture in 10 minutes, thanks to living on dirt roads all his life.  

He took one semester of general education classes at Butler Community College, then transferred to Oklahoma Christian in January of 2023, with our blessing and cautious anticipation; he'd have to sink or swim -- in spite of and with ADHD. 

Study break

In many ways, Woody is just like Jim.  

A couple of months into the semester, he texted a photo from his dorm -- black smoke billowing into an orangey sky.  It was a wildfire south of campus, heading their way.  And, no, it was not my first thought that he'd set it.

Under fire watch. He texted.

Are they giving you guys any instructions? I responded nervously.

Eat the weakest. He promptly replied.

Wherever he goes, Woody makes friends, and then he makes those friends laugh.

Halloween 2021
 After I told the girls they were too big to dress up

I won't sugar coat it, though.  College has been challenging for him.  Beyond adjusting to class content that is levels above community college standards, navigating the world of online course work has been a struggle. Deadlines creep up on him because he isn't even aware they are there; prioritizing study over the siren call of socializing is a daily test of his resolve.  Many times he's informed us of disappointing test scores, in spite of hours spent studying.  Not enough studying, or not the right kind.  But he tells us each time he wants to stick with it.  

Every day is a battle when you're fighting to master yourself.  It's just most of us don't realize that's the battle until we get married.  Or have kids.  

****Betsy****

Betsy, 13, and Lucy, 10
 Fall 2020

Betsy has developed that uncanny teenage ability of being able to hover, just out of sight, but within hearing distance, of every unguarded comment a parent makes.  But unlike other teens, she then takes it upon herself to address the offending issue.

For example, I once carelessly remarked I was sick to death of that crummy honey locust tree that had sprouted, uninvited, next to the driveway, where I backed into it every time I left.  Since it was still fairly young, it just bent over when I did this, scratching the paint.  In time, though, it would probably put a dent in the car unless I did something about it.  Imagine my surprise when one afternoon soon after, I walked past the five-foot tall sapling stripped bare of its leaves and branches.  Betsy had attempted to cut it down with garden loppers, but finding the trunk a little too thick for the tool, had settled for chopping off its branches instead. And there it stood in all its naked sheepishness.  I can't bring myself to cut it down.  I laugh every time I see it.  That'll teach Mother Nature.

And then there are the chickens.  Well aware of the inconvenience to Amanda of having to coax them back into their coop at the end of the day (we made the mistake of trying to combine two rival flocks who despise each other and rumble like 1950's street gangs at the least provocation), Betsy stoically marches out each afternoon -- hours before they voluntarily head for shelter -- and strong-arms the bickering mass of outraged fowl back into the coop. 

Betsy is equally determined in her approach to just about everything.  She maps out a schedule and sticks to it.  She puts in the time and effort, and the skill follows.   It's how she taught herself to sew.  And crochet.  And drive.

She is a decidedly more enthusiastic student than the boys were, and has done very well in math and sciences, but neither has tempted her to want to study anything like them when she considers college.  In fact, her affinity for anything artistic has only grown over the years.  She handcrafts stationery; writes beautifully in calligraphy; sews her own clothes; spends hours drawing period costumes; and crochets hair accessories, bookmarks, etc. 

Finally, she is a girl of few words.  When she does talk, she tends to be brutally honest, completely lacking guile and the subtleties of social niceties.

Our minister once complimented her, saying, "You look like you just stepped out of a magazine!" and she, caught by surprise, said, "You look like you just stepped out of a closet."

Dissecting with Dad

Despite (or maybe because of) their age difference and polar-opposite personalities, she and Lucy do well together.  I'd say they were the classic odd couple, except they're both unrepentant slobs when it comes to keeping their room clean.  One thing is certain: it's going to be hard on Lucy when Betsy leaves.  And Jim isn't going to like it much, either.

Sweet Sixteen

****Lucy****

Lucy continues to be the social butterfly of the family, always ready to play Apples to Apples or Mario Kart, or shop at TJ Maxx or Hobby Lobby.  When human companions are in short supply, she corners a dog and marches him to Aunt Amanda's house where he endures piano practice and sometimes a movie with snacks, if he's good.  

Budding makeup artist for Aunt Amanda

One of her favorite past times is playing Dungeons & Dragons with Jack.  As Dungeon Master he created a campaign for Betsy and her, which inevitably boiled down to extravagant shopping expeditions at primitive outposts, and accumulation of mythical creatures which were supposed to be powerful, sentient allies, but really ended up becoming pets.  

After that, she likes producing and starring in one-act plays with Rowen. I thought dress up was something girls did when they were younger and, say, didn't actually fill out their mothers' high heels, but Rowen was bitten by the theater bug early, and Lucy is only too ready to share in that ailment.  As a result, I'm willing to bet no other mom's dresser has been so thoroughly ransacked and put to good dramatic use as mine has.  

My shoes never looked so good

Like Betsy, Lucy is a good student, but her natural ability is in managing everyone's life.  She's a personal assistant extraordinaire, and as a bonus, she can feed you, too.  Lucy paints with acrylics and dabbles in crocheting.  She's also begun creating trinkets with resin -- an artform in itself.

2021
11 years old

****Jim****

As usual, Jim has a number of ongoing projects.  He had the caboose moved closer to Amanda's depot a few years ago and began to restore it. He cleaned out years of garbage and rust, and installed new custom windows he built himself before taking a break for the summer.  That's when a belligerent colony of bees moved in and built their hive inside the double exterior walls, and proceeded to buzz menacingly whenever we walked too close to their abode.  It required professional removal, and somehow Jim hasn't gotten back to it yet.  Probably because of the pond.

The pond is actually the area where we used to have a pool.  But the kids weren't using it and Jim had always dreamed of another pond.  And I mean that.  Even once this one gets finished, he'll be looking for a place to dig another one.  So he planned out the details and worked on it during his free time: smashing the concrete with a jack hammer; digging out the sand eight feet down; removing electrical; backfilling the hole with the goal of excavating it properly once it had settled.  The problem was, it started raining.  And kept raining all spring, so that by the time it was done raining, he'd run out of vacation.  So now it's an overgrown pit just deep enough to hold rain water ... and thus thousands of mosquito larvae.  But that's OK, because around about then, he got the Yeti.

The Yeti is a 2002 Lincoln Navigator gifted to him by his good friend and colleague, Dr. McKay, who probably thought Jim could use a hobby.  With a little elbow grease, a lot of stencils, paint, window stickers, and a custom horn that sounds, when pressed, like a roaring grizzly (or Yeti), Jim transformed the once-dignified vehicle into an expedition-worthy, Yeti-tracking eyesore.  The only thing missing is a tranquilized Big Foot tied to the luggage rack.

But his favorite activity this summer was the back-and-forth between himself and the girls after Betsy found a giant Imperial Storm Trooper at a flea market.  What do you do with something like that?  If you're Jim and his offspring, you name it "Danny" and then you take turns stealthily setting it up in unexpected places around the house, attempting to outdo each other in more and more ridiculous situations.  Danny even accompanied us to the Florida beach in June.

Danny cooks breakfast

Getting his hair done

The girls add lashes and makeup

An unexpected predicament

Don't forget the sunscreen!

And that's it for now.  Amanda and I are fine, and try to live our lives in such a way there's never a reason to include our activities on this blog.

This year, Jim and I celebrated 27 years together.  Since a picture's worth a thousand words, I'll leave you with one that sums up our progress.

Love you all! 

Summer with the Manrys: or I Could Have Sworn I Put That Vacation Somewhere!

We got a boat this summer.  Well, first we got the pond dug out again, but the boat is not for that pond.  That pond tends to shrink in inverse proportion to Jim’s fantasy about a real pond on our property.  That pond couldn’t float a toothpick.  But it did get Jim to reminiscing about the old aluminum bass boat his dad had back in Arkansas when we first started dating – one that I also never saw in their pond.  Apparently, it’s a real boat if it has to be driven somewhere else (anywhere else) on a trailer.

After a month of artful hints -- like leaving the Craigslist boat listings open on the computer -- Jim sent me this subtle inquiry when he was supposed to be at work: “Would you ever go fishing? And can’t see your response of a pause or a sigh to know for sure.”  After rolling my eyes, but before I sighed, I texted back that I would if he had a boat, because that would make it a lot easier to read the book I planned to have with me (as opposed to trying to read the book as we walked around our pond while Jim cast his line). 

A mere 16 hours later, after bribing the girls into taking the quick trip down to Norman, Oklahoma, Jim had his boat: a 1997 Nitro Savage 88f bass boat, with 150hp Mercury fuel-injected and oil-injected 2-stroke engine with a hot foot.  I faithfully relay this information from the listing because some of you may understand it. 

Only one tire on the trailer blew out on the way back home, resulting in Jim discovering he couldn’t find the spare tire jack in my car.  I couldn’t tell him where it was because even though I always have flat tires, I never change them: that’s what the boys are for.  So he called AAA Roadside Assistance on his cell phone that was nearly dead because he didn’t have his charger (see “in my car”), AAA denied assistance because they don’t service boat trailers, etc., you get the idea.  Clearly, this boat was meant to be. 

I asked Jim, belatedly, where he planned to keep it.  Visions of the “project” 1957 Cadillac danced through my head.  You know, the Cadillac that slowly eroded away as it sat parked in front of the garage, and finally got moved out to the barn just last year.  I erred in my interpretation of the term.  It wasn’t a project Cadillac.  It was a projects Cadillac.  As in, “fresh out of the projects.”  But back to my story. “By my bed,” he responded so promptly I knew he’d been dying for me to ask.  I didn’t point out it was my bed, too, because he granted my latest heart’s desire, which was for the dog not to sleep with us, so I owed him one.

"The Boat"

Because it’s just too hot out in the barn to weld, Jack has renewed his interest in chemistry.  Each day I find some probably deadly concoction in a glass beaker on the kitchen counter, or else simmering away on the hot plate in the dining room, the cord stretched dangerously across from the table to the counter-level outlet, forcing his sisters to duck at the last minute as they chase Higgins around said table.

When his latest attempt at creating a substance to eat organic material ate through the non-organic plastic bottle he stored it in, dribbling across the counter and down to the floor, where his bare foot was (bare, 1 - because he had a case of poison ivy between his toes and was trying to keep it dry, and 2 - because he was creating a caustic mixture and why wouldn’t he be barefoot, gloveless, and lacking chemical goggles?), he only commented mildly, “That hurt a lot less than I expected.”  Meanwhile, Amanda and I scrambled around trying to determine what we had on hand that was non-reactive and could be safely used to mop up the mess … and still be intact enough to strangle him with afterwards.

The alchemist at play

Jack’s summer reading has leaned toward some fairly dull, I mean eclectic, topics: “Locavesting: The Revolution in Local Investing and How to Profit From It”; “The Complete Guide to Running and Growing Your Business”; and “Ham Radio for Dummies.”

Woody’s summer reading has leaned more toward Life’s “Godzilla: The King of the Monsters,” and also the text app on his phone. 

Speaking of Woody, he survived his first semester at Central Christian.  As predicted, the greatest challenges were things like finding his homework assignments, doing his homework assignments, turning in his homework assignments …  Also, he struggled with packing his lunch, remembering to take his lunch, bringing the lunch box home, and cleaning the lunchbox out before the contents were black and furry.  He got the social part of school down pretty quick, and never missed a day, for fear of not seeing his friends.  But our questions always seemed to catch him by surprise.  For example:

Me: “Woody, are you out early on Friday?”

Woody: “Uh … not really.” 

Me: “It’s not that kind of a question.”

Woody reached another milestone, although I wasn’t looking for it when it happened.  We were at Costco and Woody was eyeing the samples.  When he found one he wanted, he took it and -- pointing preemptively toward me since he knew the drill -- said, “That’s my mom.” At this, the sample lady looked at him rather blankly.  I should clarify that she had to look up at him.  After an awkward pause I said, “Woody, I don’t think you have to tell them I’m your mom anymore.  You’re big enough to eat samples without getting permission.”  And just like that, he was all grown up.

Should anyone be in doubt, though, he also got his driver’s license this summer, which opened up a whole new world of him having to make his own haircut appointments, driving to the church to mow the lawn there and going to fill all the gas cans with gas for mowing our lawn.  It isn’t quite what he expected.

Jim and Woody at the zoo

Betsy has spent her summer watching YouTube arts and crafts videos, so even though she has a Barbie RV, armoire, beauty parlor, van, mobile pet vet station, living room set and kitchen, she prefers her Barbie baby cribs made out of wooden dowels and kitchen sponges; pet beds out of breath mint boxes and felt; Barbie books out of … well, scrap paper and staples.  

Betsy also ran two 5Ks with Aunt Amanda.  I think her favorite part of training was eating lots of peanut butter.  It definitely wasn't the running part.  Amanda said that somewhere in the middle of the 5K, Betsy looked at her as if to say, “I’m going to kill you.” 

Getting ready to run the first 5K

Amanda and Betsy before the starting gun

Lucy learned to ride a bike this past summer, and yes, 8 is a little old, but it’s not easy learning to ride on either sharp gravel or dense, jungle-thick grass, which were her only two choices.  Lu also ran/walked in one of the 5Ks with Jim.  He said she did alright until people started reaching the halfway point and turning around.  Then she glared at Jim in disbelief, “You mean we have to go BACK?”  Both girls forgave Amanda for tricking them (By “tricking” I mean she straight up told them they were going to run.  That was it.  DIABOLICAL!) when she took them to McDonald's for pancakes.

Jim and Lucy finish strong ... or at least still upright

The girls have enjoyed taking care of their annual rabbits, and weren’t even phased when the rabbits all climbed out of their latest escape-proof hutch to spend the rest of their (numbered) days loitering around the house waiting for free handouts and pooping on the lawful residents’ porch.  It’s like having a little slice of Seattle right here in Benton.    

Since Jack quit piano at the beginning of summer, I started taking lessons, and I have to tell you, it’s harder than I thought it would be.  Oh, playing the piano is hard, to be sure (or it would be if I aspired to competence), but what I mean is that it’s harder than you think to keep your mouth shut when you practice.  We had such fun teasing Jack about his mouth falling open, you can imagine my consternation when I discovered I do the same thing.  I’ve taken to clamping a pencil between my lips, muttering and scratching notes into the margins of the lesson book, which looks impressive, but really all I’m doing is writing down the number of the finger I’m supposed to be striking the key with.  And sometimes I write down a random “arrrgghh!” in the tricky places.  The end result is, I haven’t drooled yet onto the piano keys, and that’s a win for everyone.

Besides running in the 5Ks with the girls, Amanda has been puttering in her garden, caring for her geriatric dog, quilting, baking and working.  Jim installed a screen door on the depot so she can leave the front door open to catch the oppressively hot, humid summer breeze.  He also installed a new a/c unit for the depot, but she couldn’t tell him if it was working well because she wouldn’t turn it on (to save on electricity), to which he said pointedly that he hadn’t wasted all that time installing the unit during the hottest month of the year so that she wouldn’t use it.  So there.  She turned it on.

We enjoyed a visit from the Perkins  over the Fourth of July, and didn’t burn anything down.  I don’t believe anything died while they were here, either, so in all, it may have been a letdown for them.    

Jack, Jake, Betsy and Gracie feeding the koi at the zoo

Clockwise, starting at left: Jack (18), Gracie (12), Jacob (16), Woody (16), Betsy (12) and Lucy (8)

And now, because school is starting in a week and everyone is busy, Jim has started demolishing the shower in the bathroom by the kitchen (we never used that shower) so he can install … wait for it: a photography dark room.  “Who is the amateur photographer?”  You may ask, but I beat you to it: I had to ask, too.  Apparently, it's going to be Jim.  "Remember," he asked wistfully, "when we used to take pictures of the kids?"  I did.  That was back when I could carry a fully-loaded diaper bag, car seat plus baby and my purse.  What was carrying one more measly item like a Canon EOS 5D camera with all its attachments?  Somewhere along the way, though I lost interest in carrying extras -- like children in car seats.  And cameras.  Now I recall that when I took photography in college, I was terrible at a few things, like setting F-stops and shutter speed, and rolling film onto film reels in the dark.  When Jim took photography, he didn't branch out on subject matter: most of his photographs were of me (ah, dating!).  And neither of us remembers at all how to develop film.  So this should be fun.

Tight quarters for a dark room

I guess that's it, folks.  At least, that's where we'll take a break.  Hope you all have had a great summer!

Summer 2016: or Jack Learns that When You're Finally Big, You're Big Enough to Help

The problem with the long, lazy days of summer is that while they’re long, they’re hardly lazy.  Just ask Jack, who since school let out for the summer, has spent his free time helping Jim construct an obstacle course that was supposed to be for the girls but is probably more appropriate for the Marine Corps.  He also helped dig a koi pond, volunteered at a recycle center in downtown Wichita and cleaned 10 years’ worth of dust and hay out of the horse barn.  

I promise: this was supposed to be the right size for the girls!

The barn was kind of his own fault: he was dragging through his last couple of weeks of school, noticeably unmotivated, so we decided he needed something to put his free time in perspective, like hard labor.  Our conversation went something like this:

Me: “Jack, I’m going to talk with you later about what Dad and I have decided to do with you this summer.”

Jack: “What are my options?”

Me: “Oh, there won’t be any options.”

Jack : “Well.  Then what are my chances?”

He did a pretty good job, though, coming back to the house each day sweaty and coated in gray dust and cobwebs, but grinning. 

Lucy and Betsy enjoyed setting out the garden this year and have their own patch of tomatoes, bell peppers and herbs.  The picture that came with the parsley plant showed a deviled egg with freshly chopped parsley sprinkled on top and Lucy frowning in confusion said, “Sooo … we’re gonna get eggs?”

Yes, Lucy.  We're going to grow eggs.

As if building the obstacle course weren’t enough to try to cram in before vacation, Jim realized after talking to our brother-in-law Josh (who hatches insane schemes almost as fast as Jim), that he wanted a koi pond.  Immediately.  So Jack left off splitting firewood to help dig a 3-foot deep pond.  Jim rented a little backhoe to do the job, and it only rolled once, so he’s getting the hang of it.

Voila! Just add Jack and instant koi pond.

And then there was vacation.  We chose a new route up to Seattle, Wash., this time.  It took us through small Kansas towns like Cawker City, which is home to the largest ball of sisal twine in the world.  We stopped for the night in Buffalo, Wyo., and based on TripAdvisor’s highly favorable recommendation, ate at a little joint called Dash Inn. Here, the girls were able to order tacos, I ordered a patty melt which came with american cheese (sacrilege!), a chicken sandwich for Jim, and burgers and fries for the boys, all of which were seasoned with more salt than the average human should consume in a month.  Outraged, and terribly thirsty, I said whoever recommended the place should be shot, and Jim replied thoughtfully, “I think they’re probably already dead.”

The biggest ball of sisal twine in the world.

As it turns out, and much to Jim’s horror, my family walks to a lot of places.  A lot.  We walked to pick blackberries that grow like weeds along every road in western Washington.  We walked to the Des Moines Marina for the farmers' market.  We walked up the street to a park (uphill, all the way).  We walked to the 7-11 on the other side of Des Moines to get slurpees.  We walked 2.7 miles through the Snoqualmie Train Tunnel, not uphill, but in damp darkness, and then we had to turn around and walk 2.7 miles back.  Granted, this last was a bona fide “hiking trail”, but I think what aggravated Jim was my insistence (in the beginning) that it was only a quarter of a mile long, and also the fact that he carried the backpack full of bottled waters for 13 people, plus he also carried Lucy for the first half of the hike.  “I think you have me confused with somebody who likes to walk,” he complained bitterly, and we all laughed at him.  The boys also were not impressed with the tunnel, and when other hikers passed us inside the tunnel, decked out (as we were) in headlamps and jackets that weren’t quite warm enough and asked us what was at the end, the boys responded a touch sarcastically, “A gift shop.”

Picking blackberries.

Amanda makes blackberry cobbler.

Woody chose these numerous outings to hone his talent for finding lost objects, especially objects nobody bothers to recover, such as rubber balls, slinkies, knit caps, ladies’ eyeglasses, dirty shirts, cracked frisbees and an old flip flop. It wouldn’t be so bad, except he tries on everything for effect, prompting us to yell, “Take it OFF!” which I bet you don’t hear on many family-friendly outings.

Snoqualmie Train Tunnel Hike

Sally, Martha, Amanda

Top Pot Donuts: Breakfast of Champions

Lucy loved playing with her cousins, Ben and Eli, in part because for the first time she wasn’t the youngest, which automatically made her the boss.  It helped that both boys accepted this arrangement with equanimity and obeyed her demands when it suited their purposes, ignored her when it didn’t, and didn’t seem the least offended when Lucy once said, in response to Ben’s chattering, “I hear what you’re saying, and I don’t care.”  Which pretty much sums up the final stage of dating, so maybe she’s just preparing them for the future.

Elijah, Ben and Lucy

Jack, Betsy, Woody, Skyla, Amanda, Lucy, Jacob, Gracie and Ty

Feeding the birds at Point Defiance Zoo, Tacoma, Wash.

Betsy, Gracie and friend

Once Jim and the boys played paintball in Puyallup, Wash.  Apparently, anybody who owns overgrown property can set up a paintball course and charge ridiculous fees for others to belly crawl (Jim and Jack) thru the undergrowth, roll into nettle patches (Jack), or just hunker down and  hide until time’s up or the other team runs out of ammunition (Jacob and Woody).  At one point Jim looked down and asked, “When did we change paint colors?” “We didn’t,” laughed the game manager who was there to take pictures for the Facebook page. “You’re bleeding.”  Maybe he felt bad for laughing because he made a new rule then and there: “When Dad runs out of paintballs, you have to stop shooting him.” 

At the Des Moines Marina, low tide.

Lucy and dungeoness crab, Seahurst Park, Burien, Wash.

Jacob and Gracie and Moonsnail.

Beaches are kind of different from Hawaii or Florida beaches!

At Boeing's 100th Anniversary celebration for their employees, Boeing Air Field.

Jacob, Jim and Woody in front of a Boeing Dreamliner Engine.

Sally, Lucy, Amanda and John visiting the cemetery.

Now vacation is over and we have two weeks until school starts again.  I fear I have a tough job ahead of me, un-teaching Lucy some things Jim has been teaching her, such as beginning sounds in words.  In one game of Go Fish with cards featuring animals of the world, a recommended method for identifying beginning sounds might be to ask something like, “Do you have any D-D-Ducks?” Instead, I overheard Jim ask Lucy in a conversational tone, “Do you have any Qu-Qu-Orangutans?” Lucy replied, “Nope.  Do you have any Unicorns of the Sea?”  Any other five-year-old might call them narwhales, but not ours.  She’s spent too much time learning things from Dad.

Some of Lucy's schoolwork.  I think we have an orthopedic surgeon in the making.

So that’s it.  I'll have a 10th grader, 8th grader, 4th grader, kindergartener.  And Jim.  Prayers much appreciated.  You all have a wonderful summer!