Goodbye, Julius Caesar! Hellooooo, Augustus!!!

First off, props to Hoosier for being the only one with the courage to write a comment on each of my posts. Comments - well, positive ones - are like the food and drink and lifeblood of blog writers (not to mention MOTIVATION!), and I especially love hearing from him :)

Secondly, I ought to tell you that I'm going to write the next series of posts in my bedroom at the end of the day, and then post them the next morning, which means that all the "today"s will actually refer to "yesterday." I could change the time on my blog, so that it would say that it would lable the post as being posted on the right day, yesterday, but that would be a LIE.

Soooo.....

Today we used the camera for the first time in a while, and I hope to do a picture/video post sometime tomorrow, probably entitled “20 fascinating facial expressions and poses of Edward.” Anyhow, it’s getting late here, and I’ll try to write about the day quickly before going to bed.

I got this morning around 7 am, and went outside for a brief but strenuous morning run—it had rained last night and the air was pretty heavy, though cool, so I had no trouble working up a sweat. After taking a quick shower, I ate breakfast—a repeat of yesterday’s—and read my scriptures upstairs.

I spent a lot of time in the morning looking at old photo albums, particularly those showing Grandpa and Grandma as youngsters, which I had never seen before. There was even an old torn, yellow clip from a newspaper with a picture of Grandpa as a little boy and winner of the middle school spelling championship. I had a bit of trouble identifying him and Grandma as babies, but was excited whenever I recognized their features. I also enjoyed looking at pictures of them with their family members, as I sometimes seem to forget that they both grew up in families with moms, dads, grandpas, grandmas, and siblings of their own, and I would like to know if and how their family interactions mirror our own.

Looking at the pictures of Grandpa, I was struck by how handsome he was, particularly as a young boy in overalls in the country and later as a soldier in Japan, and how cute and happy he and Grandma looked together (when at last we got through the sacrilegious pages of Grandpa with an old girlfriend—uuuuuuuuughhhh!). Their marriage of over 50 years is such a beautiful thing to me, and I fervently hope that I can achieve the same kind of warmth and exuberance which they seem to have found in life. I was also fascinated by the pictures of Dad and his siblings as kids. Sometimes, faded photographs seem to have come from another world as well as another time. But then I remember that the short dark-haired little boy in the photo is my living, breathing, 3-dimensional Dad (also, by the way, the most wonderful father in the world), and the cycle of life and all of its mysteries start overwhelming me. I end up feeling sad and curious and sort of lonely, or nostalgic maybe, for a past that I wasn’t even part of. It’s weird.

Anyway, sorry to get carried away, but that’s what vacations are about, right? (Carried away?!? GET IT!?!???)

Grandpa and I went on a quick trip to Wal-Mart, getting some lettuce, two pink yoga mats for Daniel and me (they were out of blue), and a new air conditioner filter (apparently Daniel had some complaints about the old one, which is next to his room). On the way, I got Grandpa to tell me a little bit about the personalities of his grandparents, aunts and uncles (well, not all of them; I think he had about 19—WITHOUT counting wives and husbands!), and mom and dad. It was really interesting and I’m hoping I can get him to tell me more stories.

Around noon, Daniel, Grandpa, and I went to Grandpa’s yoga class, held at a large church about 20 min. away. The class was relatively small—only about 9 people, in all—but the teacher was friendly and very knowledgeable, and I learned some handy new stretches which I had never seen before for making your toes longer and wider (comes in handy in the annual toe-wrestling tournament, I understand), and one for pushing your arms behind your back which I really liked. We didn’t get into any fancy ballet moves, so I wasn’t able to show off my perfect turn-out or ability to knock myself in the nose with my shin, but everyone was still quite sufficiently impressed with the fact that Daniel and I had even turned up at all. I didn’t mind being the youngest or most limber—the class was still tough enough to make me sweat and ache afterwards! We went about 20 min. over the hour-long class, but I think we probably needed the rest at the end. Afterwards, Grandpa managed to give away all the produce he had brought from his garden to various class members, and the yoga teacher talked with us for a while. We learned she actually used to be a Mormon at one time, and still had great respect for members of the church. It’s good to know that not everyone thinks Latter-day Saints are crazy!

Speaking of which, can I just mention how much I love the friendly people in the South? People who I have never seen or met before in my life will wave and talk to me or my grandparents as we interact with them in the grocery store, jogging in the street, driving past their houses, passing by them in a public building, etc etc etc. The downside is that it takes about 5 min. to say “Hello” to anyone you actually do know (even if the only thing you know about them is their first name), but, eh, I can live with that.

Back at home, Daniel, Grandpa, and I ate a late lunch at around 2. I had the same thing as yesterday, and it was every bit as good. After lunch, I looked at more photo albums until Aunt Shelly called and asked if I wanted to go bike riding with them. Did I!!

I haven’t been bike riding—I mean real bike riding, not just the exercise bike at the fitness center—in even longer time than I haven’t been swimming since before yesterday. So, apart from fear that I would forget which way to pedal or where the brake was, I was super excited about doing it. Since Becky happened to be out, I got Becky’s bike and Becky’s helmet, which fit me perfectly except for being about five inches too tall. Daniel rode Trevor’s bicycle (he’s the giant marrying our cousin Mary Hughes this November), and encountered roughly the same situation. Fortunately, Aunt Shelly—who seemed to be quite familiar with the need for and art of making necessary adjustments for the benefit of a relatively short person living with relatively tall people—was on hand to help us with any difficulties.

The bike ride was lovely. We went down a long hill about three times, and the speed, wind, and exhilaration was terrific. I enjoyed myself so much, I would gladly resolve to ride my bike every week in Utah henceforth, except for the fact that I no longer have a bike. Sniff! At least, if Becky doesn’t mind—or Mary, if Becky gets to join us—I hope to go riding a couple more times before we end our vacation here.

After the bike ride, I went home to read and watch TV with Daniel and Grandma until Joseph, Kirsti, and Edward showed up. And show up they did! Edward positively dripped with cuteness and seemed inordinately cheerful for having just undergone an 8-hour car trip. Kirsti and Joseph looked ridiculous in their matching sets of toe-shaped flippers.

We ate dinner at the Hughes, and it was, as expected, the highlight of the day. At least four different kinds of pizza—cheese, pepperoni, olive, and one with everything, which was the most popular—all homemade by Aunt Shelly, with cantaloupe, carrots, broccoli, and cucumbers with ranch dressing for a salad. To top it off, we had generous portions of Grandma’s world-famous blueberry cake with vanilla ice cream. Seriously, it was like living in a Redwall book tonight, folks.

After dinner, we diverged from our usual after-dinner activity (sitting around at the table for another 45 min, talking about…whatever) to stare at and take pictures of and make noises with and find toys for Edward, who was certainly the star of the evening. He was surprisingly well-behaved and active, and kept us all entranced with his cute little noises, dance-like movements (Grandma calls these “the fancy pants dance”), and tentative wide-eyed half-smile facial expressions. Such a cutie!

After Edward went home, Julie, Becky, and I went to the loft to watch Cheaper by the Dozen. It was fun, but not enough to inspire me to hope for a dozen kids. Six is perfectly fine.

Well, time to sign off! Look for a picture post sometime tomorrow...