No techno trousers to speak of but we still managed to have a swell Sunday walk.

We have a favorite place where we always go. But as Millie was just given a big girl bike we thought we’d try a new trail. One where she could ride that there bike.

She petaled about two yards and was ready to give up on the bike and go on a “REAL” walk.  Millie’s definition of a real walk? One which involves throwing rocks and sticks into moving water.

This was Jan’s response to her request.

Easy, Tiger! ( Not really, if you look closely you will see that Jan Dawson is perfectly in control of his emotions. The man is still smiling.)

I’d been watching her as she struggled along and suggested that we raise her saddle. This actually helped her out quite a bit…and soon enough she was cooking with gas!

Once she had gone more than a yard on her new bike, Jan felt that we could go to our favorite spot for a walk.

And as ever, it was positively lovely.

Some places are your favorites for good reason.

We felt a bit like the three bears coming home. Because before we’d left I’d taken a cake out of the oven and I told Millie we would be able to tuck into it once we got home and it had cooled off.

It was yum.

I think Millie had more fun drinking the Perrie.

She is a thrill seaker, that one!

P.S.

Mom and Dad,

get your own bikes!

(our gardening clogs)

Saturday morning something transpired that has got me wondering if Millie has a future in botany.

Allow me to explain.

At 9:30 AM

I was outside weeding, Millie was in her room playing with “Sparkle Barbie-Q” (yes, as in BBQ) and “Sparkle Kevin”, Jan was home from basket ball and getting ready to head off to Home Depot and Clara lay dreaming (hopefully sweet dreams) in her crib.

At 10:00 AM

Millie decided to join me in my weeding endeavors. This was her first time weeding so I taught her the proper weeding technique, as in yoinking out those nasty suckers all the way down to the roots. Millie was a born weeder. She was awesome! So awesome that we made up a song that went something like this,

“I’ve got a daughter and she knows how to weed! She pulls ‘um by the roots, the roots the root’in, tooti’n roots.”

There were more verses and the tune changed every time, but you get the gist.  Millie was having a grand time.

Then she walked up to me and started to explain the horticulture which surrounded us.

Millie: Mom, do you see that (pointing to a weed) is is a “oblasis”. It is Italian. And you’ve got to be careful because it can really stick ya. It can stick ya in the knee, like a jelly fish, and then you wont be able to win the race. Or it can stick ya in the nose OR in the fingers and then you wont be able to wiggle them anymore.

Mom: Seriously? Wow! I’ll be careful. And from Italy, no less!

Millie: No from I-T-A-L-I-A-N.

(I explained to her that if something was Italian that meant it was from the country of Italy – “copy that”).

She then went on to explain to me that “if you don’t pick an oblasis  it will stay firm and then it will help the corn to grow and grow and grow!”

What the? I started to wonder if she’s been watching too much David Attenborough.

Later as I was hacking away at the rose bush on the side of our drive way Millie came up to me. She was carrying the “garden scnizzors” and she was using them to “sniz” the weeds.

Millie: Hey mom, do you know where any fleeps are?

Mom: I am not sure, what is a fleep?

Millie: (exasperated) You know! A FLEEP! I need to sniz some.

In case you have an inquiring mind, like mine, it turns out a fleep is a petal of dandelion.

So we found her some more of those and she got right to work, snizing them.

I carried on cutting back the rose bush which, by the way, I have NO idea what I am doing when it comes to this kind of thing, weeds sure, but anything else I don’t know what the heck to do with it! I mentioned to Millie that her Papa is a wonderful gardener.

Millie: Oh, yes? Like me?

Mom: Yes! He has beautiful flowers and yummy vegetables and when we go there to visit maybe you can ask him if you can pick some of his strawberries and raspberries. I bet he’d let you help him weed too.

Millie: Ooooohhhh! Does he also have peaches?

Mom: I think so. He is growing lots of trees but it takes a long time for them to grow and it is a lot of work.

Millie: Oh! Then he really needs my help – especially if it is hard and takes a long time.

Mom: No doubt!

At the end of our two hour garden tour of duty. We’d accomplished a fair amount.

Filled two garbage cans with: weeds, the remains of my hacked up rose bush, and grass that we dug up to make way for flower beds (BTW Jan when got back from Home Depot and helped out a TON!)

“What beds? I see no flower beds!” You say? This is a BEFORE shot..

Looky!

To the victor, the spoils!

Look at what our rosebush gave us…

We had enough roses to fill five small vases

in Millie's room

in Clara's room

in the entry way

And the  pièce de résistance is sitting pretty in the kitchen

Now our entire house smells like a Crabtree & Evelyn rose drawer liner – only a million times better!

If gardening was always this fun I swear, I’d be out there every day!

These invitations were sent to three little darling girls. The plan was to have a birthday tea in Millie’s honor. But last night the birthday girl came down with a temperature of 100.6, so I called all the mommies to let them know the party was off.

Millie was sad, but not heart broken (probably because we’d killed ourselves only two weeks earlier giving her a wop-dinger of a birthday! I am glad that counted for something.)

We told her if she was feeling better that we’d take her to the movies instead.

DEAL!

Well, she woke up without a smidge of temperature. So we tried to find a baby sitter, and couldn’t at such late notice. So I suggested that Jan and Millie have a daddy daughter date.

PERFECT!

Millie got herself ready.

When going on a date, is it possible to “over accessorize”? Not in Millie’s universe.

Clara was convinced that she was on the right track, fashion speaking.

Just look at her face! Complete and total adoration. “WORK IT, girl!”

In Millie’s purple polka-dot purse I placed a dollar bill – which will buy her about 1/3 of a bag of M&Ms at the cinema – but I know her date pretty well, and he’ll foot the rest. He is a true gentleman.

Off they go!

Have fun, you two cuties!

(For their viewing pleasure, you may be wondering? They went to see “UP!” -& I can’t wait to hear what they think of it!)

Just as I finished this post there was a knock on the door.

Sisckel and Ebert had returned and gave it “TWO THUMBS UP!”

Dang, I love those two!

Last week my friend brought over some lettuce from her beautiful garden as a “thank you” for taking her to the airport.* Don’t you just love her presentation. Pretty, huh?

Good enough to eat even!

*(to be honest I am just relieved that she still wants to be my friend after I FORGOT to pick her up to take her to the airport and her husband had to call me to see if I was still coming…ARRRG! Please tell me I am not the only one who makes these kind of mistakes!)

I’m curious, when you were a young maiden (that is if you are a girl to begin with) did you ever wish that you could take home your boyfriend’s jacket or sweater… I always did.

Well, Millie has set her sights on a certain someone.

He’s really cute.

And I thoroughly approve – even though they are a bit like Beatrice and Benedick. As Shakespeare put it, “there is a kind of merry war betwixt” them. But when they choose to lay their weapons down they are so dang CUTE together.

The other day she had an “accident” while she was playing at his house and guess what that meant… she got to wear HIS jeans home.

Not quite the same as wearing your man’s letter jacket, but you know, still pretty cool!

(my grandparents - Kay and John)

It has been only three days since Memorial Day, but for some strange reason it feels like a year ago.

I was thinking a lot about my granddad, John Henry Kelly. He didn’t die in a war, but he fought valiantly in World War II as a ball turret gunner. Before he died, he took a writing class and put together a treasure for those of us who loved him. He wrote his memoirs which comprised his memories of falling in love with a girl named Kay Shill, of being called to battle, of facing enemy combat,of watching his friends and fellow soldiers die and then coming home and becoming a father.

He had never really talked about that time in his life, to me anyway, but on his desk in basement of his condo, on was a photo of the boys he flew with. I often looked at that photo. I was drawn to it.

Here it is. My granddad is in the second row, third from the left.

I am grateful for his courage and for the courage of every soldier that has fought to defend the wonderful freedom I take for granted every day.

We took Millie to hear a tribute at one of the memorials in our little village. It was beautiful. Millie said to us, “I feel sad that the people died.”

We watched our little community parade where we were able to stand up and cheer for our local veterans – it felt so good to honor them.  And I was so happy when every one stood up as they passed. Good to know that despite the fact that everyone in NJ seems to be perpetually grumpy they do know how to show love and respect for our country’s noble veterans.

The parade was short and sweet. Really it was very, very sweet. I got a little choked up.

NOT Timp, but we can't all be Timp!

When the Harley dudes showed up Millie turned to me and said, “Oh, Mom! Just like Roman Holiday!”

When it was all over we headed for home.

To a fridge that had died.

I’ll save that story for another day.  It was not very fun and rather stressful to deal with. But all’s well that ends well – we have a new fridge in our kitchen as I type.

At the end of the day we headed over to the Riches for a BBQ, and it was swell. (Thanks again, Mike and Em!)

As we are an Anglo American family I wanted to remember our British brother’s who have laid down their lives in the cause of freedom. So, in honor of them here is ” The Soldier”, by Rupert Brooke.

If I should die, think only this of me:
That there’s some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England’s, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.

And think, this heart, all evil shed away,

Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.

Allison Cutler Kelly, perhaps you are lucky enough to know her?

She is different these days…

Not only is she smart as a whip (and we’re talking Magna cum laude smart, suckaz!)

Award winning (recipient of one of four awards given at graduation)

And drop dead gorgeous (that’s not new).

SHE IS OUR NURSE KELLY!

I think her man is pretty proud of her, what do you think?

I was thinking about her mom and dad, Vickie and Keith, they must want to shout from the highest mountain top, “This darling girl is OUR daughter! Once we rocked her to sleep at night, helped her learn to read, taught her to love asparagus – and now just LOOK AT HER!”

(It’s too bad the Cutler family couldn’t be more attractive, you feel kind of sorry for them, don’t you? NOT!)

We met up with these cutie-pies right after Allison’s graduation ceremony and had a lovely meal with them. It was such a treat! (Thanks, Keith!)

Here is the thing that makes what Allison has accomplished so remarkable:

[WARNING: If you don’t want to hear me gushing about my sister-in-law’s accomplishments then you’d better stop reading, because GUSH I MUST!]

Allison was accepted into a very competitive program to begin with. She got straight A’s while she was… teaching early morning seminary, serving in the Young Women and Primary auxiliaries, playing the organ, attending all Youth Stake activities (including trek and girls camp) supporting her husband, Bishop Eno, making their house into a beautiful home, cooking dinners, cleaning the bathroom, killing the bugs that infested their kitchen, rescuing furniture off the side of the road and refurbishing it etc, etc, etc.

And she is only 23 years old!

You get the idea.

The woman is a marvel.

And I for one am BURSTING WITH PRIDE!

Way to go, Alli!

P.S.

She is also the proud owner of some sweet graduation gifts!

(Millie picked out the rose clip, not bad – eh?)

I have been busy living large which is why you haven’t heard from me for the last few days.

Neylan took me to Jean Georges for my birthday.

How do you say YOWZA in French? (YOWZERRRR? Only don’t pronounce the “r” – it is silent, right?) Help me out with this one, Parker. I need your French pronunciation expertise, my brotha!

There are no words to describe how amazing it was.

It was divine dining. And they also peel the asparagus there, just in case you’re wondering.

Thank you, sweet friend for a gastronomic experience NEVER to be forgotten.

The following morning at 6:00 AM I was “up and at um” and painting our deck! I felt like Donna Reed.

Only I am pretty sure that Donna could button up her pants, and I can’t… at one point when Jan was taking these pictures he suggested that I pull my shirt over the top o’ my trousers. So I took his advice.

I look like I am concentrating on painting the deck but really I’m thinking to myself, “Hmmm! I wonder if I will ever be able to button up these pants again?”

I can’t blame dear Jean Georges for my predicament, as we only just met. So who can I blame?  I am sure there is someone out there I can hold responsible (other than YOURS TRULY) for my inability to button-up said trousers.

I got the first coat on before 8:30 when Jan had a conference call.

Then I spent the rest of the day trying to get the mission accomplished.

It took great effort

And many stops

and starts and stops

and more stops and starts

At one point we had to completely walk away from the project and just play! Mom, I get why you couldn’t get anything done. It is impossible to do ANYTHING when little kids are around.  By the end of the day I was so ticked off at my children I wondered to myself, “Is this worth me turning into a beastly mother?”

When I finally let go and stopped trying to get the deck finished things got better.

I got to play the prince

to Millie’s Rapunzel.

They kissed a lot.

It was fun.

And you know what? After dinner and putting the girls to bed I went back out side and finished what I had started.

And it looks BEAUTIFUL! If I do say so myself.

Is what your wife is, Mr. E. Smith.

I hope you’re reading this, and if you happen to weep – so be it.

It is now FACT that this is the proper way to deal with an asparagus, so no more mocking your wife and mother-in-law for peeling the stalks.

Because so does Mr. Jean Georges.

BEHOLD!

Photographic proof! The stalk has, most definitely, been peeled.

And may I add that it was the best asparagus I have EVER tasted.

Peel on, Neylan. PEEL ON, I say!

P.S. By the way, thanks for letting your wife spend the monitary equivalent of a weeks worth of groceries on me… no hard feelings okay?