We started working on a project over the weekend. Should be pretty cool.
During our worship services, in between speakers, we sometimes have an intermediate hymn–or rest hymn as they’re sometimes called, so that we don’t feel too restless, because listening to people talk for 40 minutes is a long time. So yeah, we sing a hymn in the middle to break it up a bit.
Today the rest hymn was “My Country, ’tis of Thee.” I get that last week was the Fourth of July, and it’s totally fine to keep celebrating our country.
But for some weird reason the congregation stood up to sing this hymn. Which isn’t “The Star-Spangled Banner.” It’s the exact tune of England’s anthem, “God Save the Queen.”
I don’t know, maybe we have English nationals in the congregation? Which might explain the seeming random standing. But wouldn’t we be singing the words to “God Save the Queen” and not “My Country, ’tis of Thee”?
I was confused.
Anyway, there are four verses to this American rip-off hymn. At the end of the third verse Reilly whispered that he was stepping out to use the bathroom. So I sat down with Z while everyone else stood up and sang.
Last night before the movie I was introducing my brother to some friends. Sisters, actually.
They were chatting with him when I asked, can you tell we’re related?
And one of the sisters chuckled, “Yes, and you even sound alike!”
Such a phenomenon.
If you listen to Reilly and his siblings talk, you’ll notice the same thing.
I can think of other families where this happens.
I’m glad we look different enough to not be confused with each other in other ways.
We like being our own person, too.
We watched this movie as part of our Summer Outdoor Series. I hadn’t seen it in forever, so a lot of it felt new to me.
People usually recite two quotes:
It is NOT a tumor!
Boys have penises, and girls have vaginas!
And I learned a new one:
You’re not so tough without your car, are ya?
That might be my favorite one.
Yesterday Reilly told me that Z was asking to see a picture of Nana. We have a little cloth book with family photos glued to the pages. Reilly found that book and told Z to find a picture of Nana.
So she did.
I love when Z outwardly remembers her.
Today my brother told me about how he was on a walk earlier today and got stopped by some missionaries. He told them he grew up Mormon, so he knows their angle.
They asked why he stopped going to church.
They asked him if he still believes in God.
Those are not topics he’s going to talk to just anybody about.
Those are topics even I can barely broach with him.
I mean, people exercise their faith/philosophies very differently. And it sounded like those missionaries were trying pretty hard to get my brother to open up. And it would be one thing if he actually wanted to talk, but it sounded like one those situations that, no matter their efforts, because he didn’t want to talk, they weren’t getting further in that conversation. You know?
Today I only rinsed some of the conditioner from my hair during my shower. And now? My hair feels so silky! I just worry it’ll look and feel greasy tomorrow.
A few weeks ago I got my pixie cut cleaned up at a chain salon. As the stylist snipped, hair rained on the black cape. Not just my dark-brown-almost-black hair, but a bunch of grey, too. The question is: Do I call those lighter hairs grey (definitely with an E) or silver? I mean, I’ve dyed my hair silver in the past, and it has looked rad. And I’ve definitely earned mine, so.
I’ve started a nightly face cleansing routine. Pores and wrinkles and age spots in my face; the slightest crèping in my neck and décolletage. In my 20s and through my 30s I didn’t really wash my face at night. I guess I let the oils in my skin do all the work, and only occasionally my skin would break out and I’d call it yet another puberty. But now, it seems my skin is actually starting to dry out. If I can’t control my silvering hair, then I should be able to regularly clean my face, right? Besides, after washing and moisturizing, I like how soft my face feels.
So, there’s that.
This past Wednesday through Friday we had a reservation at a campground near a lake. It had been somewhat of a summer tradition to go there. Last summer we obviously didn’t do it, and I was excited to plan another camping trip when the world got a little safer.
Except our state is in the middle of a drought. And the lake at the campsite was all but dried out. Whatever water remains has developed an algal bloom, so it’s definitely not safe. And Z would still have eyed the lake and asked to go swimming, and she’d be upset that we wouldn’t let her.
It did rain Thursday, but not enough to compensate for all the dryness. The earth was still grateful, though.
So last week I canceled the campsite reservation. And yesterday evening, after the hike, I pitched the tent in the back yard. Z loves the tent.
The three of us and one of the dogs slept in the tent last night. The temperature was neither too hot nor cold, and because Z wore herself out with hiking, she went to sleep relatively quickly.
She woke up and continued to play inside the tent.
I love our back yard.
I forgot to post yesterday, June 25. It was on my mind to do it. You bet I’m gonna backdate this. (June 25, 2021, 10pm)
We went on a hike to Stewart Falls. It’s an out-and-back hike, totaling four miles. There are some moderately steep parts and some rocky areas, but mostly the trail gently rolls, and it’s shaded with a few sunny parts. I mean, you still have to watch not to trip on roots and tumble down the mountain. All in all, it’s a really pleasant hike with some amazing vistas. One of my favorites.
It’s a little bit steep but relatively short descent past the plungepool, and that’s where we usually go on this hike before turning around.
My brother came along with us, and I think he really liked it, too.
Z especially loves being near the waterfall, and she calls this area, “Good Dinosaur water.”
Have you seen Disney Pixar’s The Good Dinosaur? You should.
Look at this awesome family.
For anyone who knows Reilly or has heard me talk about him has no doubt what a great guy he is. He provides, he teaches; he exemplifies what kind of person this world needs. He is the best possible father for our Z: patient, creative, silly, full of love. He makes everything better. Happy Father’s Day to all the good men and father figures out there.
It’s also summer solstice: no other person I’d want to spend all the daylight (and nighttime) hours with than Reilly.
Happy Sunday, y’all.
Today after our main church service I attended another meeting, sort of like a Sunday school class. The teacher led a pretty good discussion, and a thousand thoughts entered my head at the same time, reacting to everyone else’s thoughts.
I hadn’t attended a class like this since March 2020. And even pre-pandemic I didn’t raise my hand very often to contribute to the discussion. Without rehearsing I get really nervous speaking in front of people, especially after 15 months of not speaking in front of them. Yet today I felt my throat opening up and my vocal cords readying for air to pass through them as my brain prepared my lungs to expel this air as actual speech.
Which, at the same time, my adrenaline levels had significantly increased, causing my armpits to heavily perspire.
So I made my comment. And then I was done. And I listened intently to the rest of the discussion while wondering if I had said something wrong or offensive. Adrenaline was still pumping so I remained sweaty, but I was also sitting underneath the air conditioning (and close to a floor vent), so I was also freezing. But my shivering may have also been residual nerves?
I don’t know.
After class, someone made eye contact and said she was glad to see me. And that I made a great comment and had nodded the entire time I was talking.
I was grateful for that. She made the fear sweats worth it.