This weekend, Joannie is in Austin for the state swim meet.  A good teacher never misses a teachable moment, so she made sure there was time to take the team to the state capitol.And to give a little lesson on free speech and standing up for what you believe is right.

“On the floor of the Capitol” takes on a new meaning.

And tomorrow, on the long drive home, when the team stops off in the German settlement of Fredericksburg, Texas,  you can be sure that a lesson on The Reformation will be taught as they drive past all the Lutheran churches there, on the way to have some sausages and pretzels for lunch. A good teacher never misses a teachable moment.

So Elizabeth came to the mainland for two weeks to ski and did so in Utah, Colorado, and California.  She had never done Alta before.  It looks like she had a good time there.

Then on to her beloved Crested Butte where she saw friends, skied, and loaded up the things she had stored there.  And back to Tahoe to ski with her dear friends Casey and Beth.  Actually, Beth was only allowed to snow shoe with Mya as she and Casey are looking forward to the arrival of #2 shortly.  And Auntie Boo had one day to play with the  adorable Mya in Sacramento.

Meanwhile, back on Maui, Lula was taking surfing lessons  in her mama’s absence. 

Boo had only a few short hours in Oregon on her return trip, but there was time to go out for a chimichanga.  Gotta eat!

Then back home where she unloaded all the gear that had been stored in CO and put it in the attic at 1880.

This is Elizabeth’s:

This is Mary-Margaret’s:

And look!  There’s some room left for Katherine:

And the faithful Tahoe is put into storage out back after about a 3000-mile-whirlwind road-trip .  We love this truck!

And back to PDX.  I should be able to do this run blindfolded.

Boo offers a little excellent visual advice as she departs.

And Roxie and I have a nice drive back to 1880, talking to Joannie “on my car” most of the way.  Now, I am going to heed Boo’s advice and hang loose — at least for the rest of the day.

When Kobe moved to 1880, he came with some favorite blankets and toys, but Bunny Bear was always his special one.  I only let him have it when Roxie and I were going out because Roxie sees it as her duty to pull the stuffing out of all stuffed toys.  One day, Bunny Bear was gone!  We sort of forgot about him.  Then this morning, I was taking out a big fern and there, buried next to it in a shallow grave, was Bunny Bear! He cleans up really nice.

And I’m not talking about left-over valentine candy. I can never resist these, and there were some new choices this year that I had to try.  I only ate one box on the way home, but they are a lot smaller now than they used to be — and a lot pricier too!

This morning, opened the second box to accompany my completely-faux cuppa:  decaf expresso, stevia, and whipped up skim milk.  Trust me, it’s really good, especially in a favorite cup.

Only one year, only one daughter was a Brownie and I signed up to be the troop cookie chairman.  Then they were 12-ounce boxes (6 now) and $1.00 a box ($4.00 now)  I was supposed to balance the cash with the cookies every night and every night I either had to put in an extra $1 or eat a box of cookies to make it come out right.

I am sorry to say that buying Girl Scout cookies reminded of something troubling:  a couple of months I declined to buy a Christmas tree from a neighborhood Boy Scout.  I didn’t tell him why, but I just couldn’t do it.  The Boy Scouts are facing a hard question just now and I certainly hope they get it right so I can buy their stuff in the future.  I have to wonder how a little boy might feel if his mom or dad could not be a den leader.  I have to wonder how a boy feels when he grows up and has earned his right to be an Eagle Scout only recently to have realized that he is gay and that he cannot accept the award with a clear conscious.   Hard questions need to be asked and answered.  I actually believe that private organizations can exclude anyone they don’t approve of,  and I can decline to join them, support them, or allow my children to join them.  Or to buy their Christmas trees.  Sorry, guys.  Maybe that works for you but not for me.

Well, two days into what is supposed to be a penitential season, I blew my plan to prune only one rosebush a day, which was intended to be a sacrificial practice on my part.  (Why is there not an emoticon for irony?)  We have a gorgeous, sunny day, so I pruned them all — but I was diligent about disinfecting the loppers between every bush.

Done!