THE AFTERMATH

I've been describing the wild rumpus which lasted for about six weeks, and now, we're experiencing the downward curve of the winding down scene. Two grandchildren are still here, but there is mostly quiet....well....sort of. We've inherited our grandchildren's dog, Astro. Astro is a "boonie" dog which the kids bought in Guam. He's called a "boonie" dog because, when his masters found out the cost to ship him back to the states, they merely took off his collar and abandoned him to roam in the boondocks of Guam. Fortunately for him, he was captured and placed in an animal shelter then adopted by our kids. He's been a delight for the most part. The retriever in him is thriving on the "beasts" who call our yard home--deer, squirrels, quail, birds, raccoons, and neighborhood dogs and cats. He managed to kill a squirrel or two, but now the managerie is wise to him and he spends fruitless hours sniffing, running, scaling the rock wall. The birds even mock him by swooping down constantly to steal his dog food.

Tom found respite from the noise and happy tumult by continuing to work outside on the siding and air conditioning installation. I managed finished Connor's quilt, which turned out huge due to my inability to measure properly. I also managed to write my autobiography for my upcoming 50th class reunion:

"What have I done in the fifty years since we walked down the aisle on that warm June day in 1960? The first thing I did as line leader at graduation was lead my line into the wrong row! Not a very auspicious beginning for the rest of my life. The first few months were dark indeed; I was without my soul mate--my twin sister. I managed to perk up, float my own boat, and: graduate with a bachelor's degree from BYU; teach for almost 40 years at nearly every grade level from fifth to law school and on aircraft carriers, in jails, mental institutions, Quonset huts, a five million dollar mansion, and regular classrooms; marry the man of my dreams in the Mormon temple in Idaho Falls and remain married to 39 years and counting; give birth to six children and see them into their early thirties through their schooling, marriages, births of their children, divorces, careers, etc; rear a fine young stepson; bury a six week old baby daughter; mourn the loss of both parents, two fathers-in-law, one brother-in-law, and a brother; earn a master's degree from the University of Portland, graduating with honors; serve voluntarily in every auxilliary, as a president or teacher, in our church; write, edit, distribute 10 or so newsletters of one kind or other; write an unpublished novel and many journals, essays, talks, and letters; maintain and decorate a beautiful home; crochet, cross-stitch, quilt, or sew hundreds of items for gifts to friends, family, or charitable organizations; accumulate a 5,000 name genealogical file of Kennedy/Whitby lines, and remain rather sane. I've never again been a line leader though."

This is a cute little scene I found one day after I'd gone exploring to find out why my car alarm had gone off and the locks kept clicking on and off. The setting is under our kitchen table which is three year old Wyatt's hideout!! The book is his favorite--Star Wars, the white stuff is salt from the full salt shaker, the wrappers are gum--which had been chewed and swallowed, bag of chips, string cheese, and my car keys.
The aftermath.