Music in Disguise

Well, I'm probably the last to know, but if you have a playlist on your blog, it's a good idea to let it play through on occasion so you can X the ones it flip-flops to "related" but totally unacceptable alterations! Such as Money Money Money by ABBA, which I love, flipped to a mix which includes Jay-Z singing about ... well, never mind. Still shows the ABBA album cover. Or M(etropolitan)T(ransit)A(uthority) by Hair of the Dog (in lieu of but very much like The Kingston Trio which isn't available), switching to The Hair of the Dog by Green on Red, a punk band! Not that I *necessarily* have anything against punk rock, but scrud! Sigh, as if it's not annoying enough to end up with broken links....

Girls Love Pink?

My sister Lois looks a little sly in this picture.

Only because I snapped it at the moment she was about to blink,

but maybe there's truth to it in that she threw quite a party last night,

a Girls Only Pink Party, in honor of her first grandchild's wedding.

A little better view of her new cool hairstyle

other than you can blame the fuzziness on the person behind the camera.

This is the bride (married today in the SLC temple)

... the one on the right, Mariah.

That's her mom on the left, Donelle.

And her AZ cousins sitting in the back. Sorry for chopping your heads off!

Mariah's husband, Trevor, is from Blanding.

They met at USU. He has two semesters left.

He's a return missionary from Uruguay.

After their reception festivities they'll be heading out on a honeymoon cruise.

The youngest grandchild, Abigail, and her mom, Cozette.

Grandpa took all the available boys to The Pizza Factory,

and brought some home for the latecomers.

The boys are back! Didn't even have time for a chick flick. :-)

Mom Amy with Devon and Ethan, Kaleb, Alisa, April,

and glimpses of Brooke, Tori, Rebekah, in the far background.

Brothers, Stu and Greg, some of their kids in the far background,

plus Dave and Amy's Devon and Aubrey, and Grandpa next behind his sons.

Kaleb wore a tie in honor of the occasion,

and enjoyed the pink lemonade dessert with the rest of us.

Ummm, frozen delight topped with crushed Sandies cookies,

after chicken salad croissants with pear and lime jello salad,

chips, dip, veggies and fruit.

Next we have Aunt Alisa with her son Alex.

He turns 16 soon, and just became a Sergeant in the Army ROTC.

Now the bride is the oldest granddaughter, and Kaiden is the next older grandson, on the right below, about to graduate from Neumont University. He already has a job lined up in Austin TX.

"Our mission is to provide a professionally-focused accelerated education that is rich in ideas, current in industry best practices, and deep in technological insight from the input of industry-leading partners...focused on the digital sciences."

It's always nice to spend time with this fine family.

Others in attendance I missed catching in pictures:

Maddie, Noah, and Rachel (or they're in there somewhere).

Friends I'm Grateful For and Some I'm Not

Well, let's get the "nots" over with.

My Dad was a gentle man. Only got annoyed at me once enough to give me a swat when I tested out the top of the new car which behaved somewhat like a trampoline. Used to say "Scrud!" when he was particularly put out. I've also mentioned that his liking the fights on TV puzzled me, in light of his otherwise notable kindness. Other than these few things versus many examples of his patience, there is one more, however. He would throw rocks at dogs who wanted to use our lawn for a potty break. And he was a good shot. I was somewhat embarrassed at his doing this but then I wasn't the one who dealt with the clean up.

Now I am. The one. And the descendants of his neighbors, still have dogs. Only one actually lives across the street but one night last week they must have been having a family party because there were a lot of cars, and as I was about to pull into the driveway, I spied three of the same breed and coloring eying my grass. Siblings no doubt. I got as close as I could, repeatedly honked at them and they just stared at me and continued with their dirty business. I did a U-turn and came back to the three of them heading for the open garage! I hit the button to bring the door down, but not only won't that door be a party to crushing people, ditto dogs. I inched my honking way into the garage after a couple tries, got the door down with them outside and me inside. Whew!

End of story? A couple nights ago I pulled down the side drive for my own potty break before heading to a meeting. Blackie No. 1 who prior had limited himself to merely barking at me on a regular basis, then moseyed across the street, tailed me up to the gate and sat there expectantly, as if the day's ago honking, to him meant I am a curiosity worth following up on. Sigh. A little disconcerting, it being dark, the dog being black, and obviously considers my territory his instead! I should have had my rock pile ready, in the first place. But thank goodness for gates! And I hear there's some spray I can get for the grass next summer.

I have some regular dates with friends which are a lot of fun, and for them and that, I am grateful. One of them is Betty. She's 76, very spry, and only lately has been repeating herself. I hope I make it that long before I sink into that modus operandi. Indulge in it occasionally already. Her husband was my home teacher and gave me lots of good advice. He was about five years older than his wife and was even spryer than she up until the last year of his life. (Ran three miles a night [to avoid pollution] and drank carrot juice.) He had a surgery which caused a stroke and his otherwise good health kept him alive for another year. He'd have been better off with a DNR clause. In all that time, he only made it home once, and it lasted a measly two days. (Let that be a lesson to all you health nuts.) ((As Daddy would quote, "Time and chance happeneth to them all."))

Betty was amazing, dealing with his year-long demise. She looks on the positive and will tackle anything. She did have a hard time when her anniversary rolled around, however, several months after his passing. This was because she wanted him to take her to Maddox restaurant in Perry up by Brigham City the prior year, a month before his surgery, but he forgot, and then promised her he'd take her the next.

So I took her last year (has been in business since 1949 but I'd never had the opportunity to go there either). So this year was our 1st annual trip to Maddox. It was just as fun and just as delicious. Prime rib. Baked potato. Signature homemade rolls and corn pone with whipped butter and whipped raspberry butter.

Garden fresh green string beans and carrots. Shrimp cocktail. A chocolate covered peppermint stick for dessert. We talk about going up to sample other menu items, but if we don't, we'll be keeping the prime rib tradition.

Ragnar 2011

Fun trip to Vegas to tend while Jewel ran the Ragnar Friday through Saturday with several friends from the ward, and their friends/family. The results haven't been posted, understandably, considering there were 478 teams, most of them 12 members. It was 188 miles, from Lake Mead to Desert Breeze Park in Vegas somewhere around Durango and Sahara.

(Enjoying the playground @ Desert Breeze Park.)

Saturday Hayden had a football game in Pahrump

(Working out paid off - they won!)

(Hayden, No. 37)

which was interestingly on the race route, so we got to see signs of the event, and even saw Jewel for a few seconds just before her third leg.

I snapped this next picture with my new camera, while rolling at about 15 mph. (Yes, a better camera than my former, on sale and so actually cheaper besides.) Last year Johnny and several friends started a company on the side called Petroleum Logistics, and they contributed to the team's expenses.

(Look, my new glow bracelet!)

Raygen, I must say, is amazingly cooperative in the follow-the-family gig, for a two-year-old. Part of her happy cooperation was thinking the long drive meant we must be going to "the pum-ky patch". Her biggest expressed disappointment of the weekend was at the school's fall festival where she expected to go for an actual trot with brother instead of just sit for a photo op! She kept saying, "Bye, Daddy!" but the horse didn't cooperate as she expected!

("Bye, Daddy!")

So proud of Jewel for taking this on! And wish her knees, back and toes a speedy recovery!

(The girl team segment.)

Some of the more amusing team names:

Little Red Running Hood, Agony of DeFeet, 12 Angry Birds, 24 Angry Feet, Sweaty White People, Sweaty or Not, Kickin' Asphalt, Kickin' Asphalt & Takin' Names, Saintly Sinners, Saints Running from Sinners, Cirque du Sore Legs, Slomosexuals, You Did WHAT in Vegas?, Where is Area 51?, The Ragnarcissists, The Ragnarcisists (hopefully they spelled it wrong on purpose just so they could also have the name), The Quick and the Undead, Suckers for Punishment, I B Pro Fun, Running for the HEALTH of It, Run Like the Winded, When Pigs Fly, The Aquaholics, 12 Funerals and a Wedding, Lengthen Your Stride, Running from the Rapture, Fear and Loathing in a Van, SWATT (Sprinters, Walkers And Trash Talkers), You Got Chicked, and Run, Repent, Repeat.

[The actual catch phrase for the event is "Run, Drive, Sleep?, Repeat".]

Don't Put All Your Eggs in One Basket?

(The Culprit)

I like being old. Although memories makes me cry a lot but I only say that because crying is more "noticeable" than laughing. Meaning I'm very sure it makes me laugh just as much. If not more. I had a great childhood other than one tiny chink in the armor. It actually was a major chink but my childhood was THAT good I can call it tiny. Yes, I know, I'm bizarre and I like riddles. But that's not because I'm old. Besides that, I'm with Andrew Carnegie, who said:

Concentrate your energies, your thoughts and your capital.

The wise man puts all his eggs in one basket and watches the basket.

I like it that I know who Andrew Carnegie is. (Without looking him up.) ;^) Now, I haven't lived long enough to remember Andrew Carnegie, but I have lived long enough to know people of his era. One thing great about the previous generations (previous to me, not necessarily you), they talked about "the olden days" and we who listened actually listened. Not so much any more. Not so much "noise" competing for attention in those days. (So I'm blaming it on the times, not the offspring.) But then those were the yes, slower, but also John/Little Nell/Fran days of guilt-tripping stories, so maybe it goes hand-in-hand.

I also remember the days when "That's Capital!" was a good thing, but nowadays we're back to Andrew's definition. So, philosophically at least, I AM concentrating my energies, thoughts and capital into the verge of ... a century-old house! Where, at this very moment, I am spending seven hundred (known) dollars on repairs to the 10-plus-year-old Peerless boiler. At least I can't blame it on the fire restoration people, who recommended moving to a forced air system with the strong cautionary of "Now is the time." But Norma, bless her conservative heart... which I could say I inherited were we actually related... passed on the chance, and less than two months later, in the dead of winter, had to replace the totally defunct boiler. With another boiler, of course, since all the fire finish work was done. (This house does not have ductwork since it warms with water rather than air.) Chances are you don't know this, because why would you?, but boilers are expensive and Nobody residentially installs them any more, even 10-plus years ago. So yes, sometimes maybe it's better to not value the past. Meaning, I could have bought a brand new condo seven years ago, instead! Ha!

Which brings up another fond memory which I'll get to in just a second. After I point out the fact that these days there are only two HVAC companies in the county who know enough to be considered professionals in the residential boiler field and therefore have high ratings.

So my last fond memory of the day (and fond memories often start out bad), is back when the boiler died. Kinda like Miss American Pie. We're talking, the former boiler, died. Norma had just finished The Project of putting this otherwise condemned house back together and she was pleased. She would bring it up often, because she wanted us to "notice" and confirm the pleasure she felt. (And I'm grateful she got to enjoy almost four years in it before she died.) She did NOT want her legacy to be having burned down the house that Grandpa (Niels) built, and her son told me she donated even her wedding ring to the project. If I got the dumbed down version of things correctly, the kind of insurance she had was not replacement value but actual value, so the more that was cataloged and contributed to the pile that went to the dump, the better. So, say the value of a 20-year-old sofa (the kind not destined to reach antique status) instead of the value of obtaining a similar replacement sofa. Now, she could have used some of the money towards replacing her wedding ring, for example, but instead, she sunk it all into The Project. So when she suddenly had a huge bill to face that was a relative of The Project, she called and asked me if any of we three daughters had anything left of our Dad's inheritance we could contribute to The Project. We didn't. (This was 14+ years down the road of his passing.) Well, Janeil and I did have some stock left. (Which four years later I cashed in 2/3rds of mine to pay Janeil and Lois off to acquire ... The Project ... and also paid a "capital" of another kind in the process. What was I thinking!) ;^)

My first reaction was annoyance. Norma may not have re-read her trust papers since Daddy died, but I certainly had! She was to keep the place in working order out of her own pocket. But because she was the matriarch of our family (yes, she was, even though we weren't blood related), I tried to hide that reaction. (And we'd had "practice" doing exactly that a couple of years earlier when she asked us to paint it for her, as Grant, The Painter, I'm sure well remembers.) I told her I'd talk it over with my sisters. Janeil, who luckily had a spouse who was on the same budgeting page as she was, said she'd fork it over and Lois and I could pay her back. Before I passed that message along, I asked Grant what he thought of it. Grant, as most everyone who knows us, knows, is the smarty pants of the family. He's also humble. Well, I suppose I can't speak for the humbleness part now, Ruth would have to reconfirm that, but back in that day he was our go-to person on the right thing to do. And, as usual, he deflated my haughty balloon rapidly with this 'point': "Mom (pause), do you expect/want to be friends with Norma in the hereafter?"

So I called Norma and said we'd cover the bill. (It was over $3,000.) And as happens often, when you heart is softened, the actual thorn is removed from your side. PTL! Literally. She said she'd talked to her sons (those same sons who mucked out the garage one winter day, with sweat pouring down their bodies), and they told her heating systems only last about 20 years, and her heating system had way more than beat the odds, so they thought she should cover it. (I'll give them the benefit of the doubt that none of them had yet read the trust.) Matriarch that she was, she insisted, and so the current boiler was hatched from her pocketbook instead of Janeil's. (And I have no idea how the thing got squeezed into that room! Just the subsequent water heater was an 8 out of 10 in difficulty, per that repairman!) I note on the invoice that she asked and got a $155 discount for being a senior citizen! Heck I should have tried that! Still could.... Naw, I don't have the guts, non-matriarch that I am.

Now I must add (and yes, I know you two people who read this have long gone awol), boilers, other than dollar-wise, are great. And that's why it was picked by Daddy in the first place. Since for him, expense never was the issue and he loved radiant heat (what we had in our growing-up house). Totally silent except for expansion sounds as the vents heat up (which the first winter would wake me up but soon turned into the confirming lull of comfort), moist air which is a plus in any winter, and it truly does last longer and require less maintenance expense than a forced air system. Barring the return of some thorn in the side or another, like the circulating pump I am currently replacing....

P.S. My new home teacher grew up in the house I grew up in and attests to the fact that the radiant heat in the basement floor, as well as the rest of the system, is still functioning!

P.P.S. The Otis Elevator is dead. :^( A story/repair? of another day. (It makes a fine closet, and wiggle-room for furnace-room repair men. So at least I can lay claim to having the sense to park it up instead of down.)

MORE GRATITUDE GIVE ME

It's been a long time since I've posted my miscellaneous gratitudes. Partly because I've been swamped at work and mostly because being that busy and dealing with contrary folks makes me less than patient. And you don't notice your gratitudes when you aren't patient. And I suppose another wearing part of it is the pressure of pretending you aren't (impatient)! And then there's the stuff you need to do that you just don't, and after awhile it gets most annoying. Like cleaning and yard work. I need to be grateful I'm on B.P. medication! I can't imagine even surviving this time of year without it and at least I don't have to worry it's being pushed into the danger zone!

I really do like working, in spite of the stressful "season". And I'm pretty good at what I do given how ancient I'm getting. It's a good thing my hair has been white for a long time, or it would be reminding work people that it's past time I moved on. Moving into a new office has its challenges, but over all it has been a good thing and I have hope I'll adjust fully. It's very nice to have more room/storage and lots of sunlight, and I'm grateful for that. I've been able to keep much better organized what with all the paper trail chaos. And my brain is adapting to the lack of privacy. If I survive and am up to going through it again (one last time I keep telling myself), it will be better. Better than in a lot of years, actually! We had to change point-of-sale vendors and though going through the set-up has added to the load, future years compared to the old system will be a pleasant improvement both for me and whomever comes next.

Humm, I can tell already this is going to be l-o-n-g, but bear with me you few who have made it this far, as I am WAY overdue since my last gratitudes post.

It dawned on me I must have been feeling impatient for awhile, when I went VTing. My partner and the people we visit are chatters and the though of spending even half the time we normally do was almost enough to make me flat pass on it. Taking people to the temple the Friday before stake conference, which has become a tradition, seemed a chore. One Sunday recently I found my patience tested by more than one person calling about "the cottage," wanting my help to get it rented to the next questionable prospect! I don't know what is is about old houses that makes people think the owner will welcome people who can't afford it and/or won't take care of it!

I turned down a church assignment, which isn't like me. Shortly thereafter, before the guilt even had a chance to subside, I was asked to do another one! So I didn't dare do that twice, and accepting has turned me onto a better attitude trail, for which I am grateful. Hopefully it and choices like it will sustain me until this busy time fully subsides.

The first request was to be in charge of the next R.S. weeknight supper. Completely. Plan the meal, get the food, drum up the help to prepare it, serve it, clean it up. And since I rarely these days even get home by supper time much less have time to do all that various and sundry, I begged off. Put me on such a committee, fine. Put me in charge of an existing committee, fine. But hand me the whole kit and caboodle sans committee, not fine. I'm betting they struggle with it in general. Not a good plan to on purpose each month pick only one person and expect them to have the charisma to pull that off san a pre-designated group.

Second request was to sub for the Primary music. Given my attitude, I didn't even want to do that but at least it's a one-man-band kind of assignment, and something I can and normally would love to do. And I was very glad I said yes (beyond assuaging my guilt) because it turned out the theme was missionaries. I have a ton of missionary music ideas in my storage room and I had plenty of already prepared visuals.

I felt very blessed and my prayer answered that it went well in spite of my general state of mind. Seniors, I told them about taking Grant to the MTC, unexpectedly choked up a bit about it even, and we sang Called to Serve, among other songs. An eight-year-old boy asked after, what was the name of that hymn because he wanted to sing it for FHE.

Talked about the importance to plan and practice for any important goal and sang other songs about that, and had them pick random missionary commitment slips to do the coming week. One kid whispered to me that only his mom cooked at his house, when he picked "help shop and prepare a meal for your family." I whispered back that he'd need to learn how for his mission and I wouldn't make him share it but would he take the note home and show it to his mom. He didn't say he would but acted like he would. Interestingly, another boy came over to me after and asked if he could exchange his. His was not to watch TV for a day, and he said he didn't watch much TV anyway so it wasn't a challenge, what he really wanted to do was take home the cooking commitment! So we fished through the slips until we found one and he went away happy. (He is one of the very oldest Primary boys and he was in the 4-turning-5 class I taught the first year I was in this ward.)

Junior Primary I gave them all Future Missionary stickers and the last song we sang was I Belong to the Church of Jesus Christ, and I asked them to "Sing it like a Future Missionary!" and they gave it their all. Tons of fun.

Uncle Boyd used to bring me corn several times a season, and those days are gone. Today is a nonwork day and I was blessed to manage not to have take-home-work, so I mowed the lawns, had raspberries and a garden tomato for lunch, got a hair cut, and bought corn on the cob from a local stand (normally closed evenings, even if I happened to drive by after reasonable working hours). I miss my parent's gardening efforts and this is the first year I could say I actually have a garden. How blessed were we to grow up feasting from a garden!

(Part of the overspill. Note I'd have another zillion cherry tomatoes, were fall not on the doorstep!)

Some blessings come in disguise. Tearing down the old shed and the area being relatively sunny, I was planning to garden there, but the ground inside the shed I figure they must have added cement mix to the soil, it was so hard! I would have had to hire an excavator to make it so I could garden there. So the guy who tore out the old suggested a large grow box. At first I wasn't too thrilled with the straight compost he filled it with, seemed "hot" and took a lot of water (not culinary, so it upped my water bill), but it is a veritable jungle out there of yummy stuff - tomatoes, cherry tomatoes, green peppers, cucumbers, cantaloupe, squash, and maybe baby melons if it doesn't freeze early. Of this assortment, I've planted tomatoes and green peppers elsewhere here prior years, without good luck. And corn ... which always blew over. Had a good patch of sweet peas a couple of years, and potatoes, but the potatoes never came on early enough to do the creamed peas and new potatoes on toast treat.

Another blessing has been a change in bishopric advisors who micromanages sacrament meeting music less. Still a bit tricky due to whom he reports to ;^) but last month's was approved with one change and this month's had no changes. Even got a nonhymn special number approved! My favorite sacrament hymn is O Savior Thou Who Wearest a Crown and it wasn't liked by the former. Unfortunately I had it slipped in and already turned in for the first Sunday after the switch, which drew a lot more attention to it, so that was the one change and it will be a long time before I dare try for it again, even under new management!

Another blessing in disguise was making it through the summer before my AC died. You'd have though the war in heaven was ongoing when it finally flipped its lid. Was warned two springs ago it probably only had one season left in it, so one extra was nice. It will cost me a bundle but the HVAC guy (former bishop) who will take care of it claims I'll be very happy with the replacement. He said what was there was a conglomeration (the fire restoration company) and wasn't even assembled properly on pieces of it that could have been.

Thoroughly enjoyed going to Women's Conference with my sister, who also brought me three pints of stewed tomatoes! She said she got 16 pints off one picking from my garden! I'm sure I join a raft of women who especially enjoyed President Uchtdorf's speech, seemingly/hopefully an annual tradition. True to form his tie was a punctuation mark to his statements, and what will you bet this will be his next book:

Had time to use the clothesline for a load of wash today! Looking forward to "The Drowsy Chaperone" at the Hale Center Theater tonight! Life's good at the moment and I am grateful to notice. The day had a great start that also warmed my heart, waiting in line at the post office, and overhearing Joe Hilton (who's got to be 20 years my senior) tell the postal agent, no hurry, "slow boat to China's fine."

The Artist Fourfold!

When I was a kid one of my favorite things was our visits with my Dad's sister, Lucille Turner's family, in Springville. Uncle Glen was a watercolorist, landscape oil painter, award-winning filmmaker, writer, director of the Springville Museum of Art, BYU professor, and elite hobbyist which included restoring antique autos and motorcycles. His kids were the characters in various films he'd showcase, very much like The Little Rascals, and I envied them the fun of doing that.

The above watercolor he gave me as a wedding present, all the nieces and nephews got one. I have it hanging in the northeast bedroom. The next watercolor he'd given to my parents, which is hanging in the library.

My sister has this large oil which he'd also given my parents.

(Note my other sister's response and his paintings she has on her blog.)

Maeser Elementary was built in 1898, the first school built in Provo. It was abandoned in 2002 (later sold) and various artwork from the school was then hung in the district office halls. One day I was walking down the hall and was taken aback seeing this hanging there:

It was easily recognizable as his style

and I asked if I could put it in my office.

Recently we were kicked out of our basement offices

and somehow (courtesy of our boss's PR skills) managed to upgrade to this:

(Notice Ruby's box and picture she embossed from copper sheets, top shelf.)

Plenty of storage and sunlight!

Recently another old elementary school, built in the 1930s, bit the dust,

and the artwork from Farrer was also brought over to the district office.

Low and behold, another Glen H. Turner painting

has now joined the other one in my office.

Pretty classy, huh.

NineOneOne(OneOne)

The houses across the street belong to another ward. Their Scouting program elected 9/10 to display their flags. Our ward's Scouting program apparently didn't consider the project "work" so they displayed ours today. So it was nice to have the double tribute. I do it also in honor of Norma. She participated in the program so I have continued. And I'm glad I noticed before I moved in.
Snowballs bloom in the spring, leastwise any I've seen in these parts. This is the third season after planting this one and for whatever reason, this year it bloomed twice. I hope it doesn't portend an ill omen. Like an abundance of conifer berries means a hard winter... or Ovid's white raven turned to black for being the bearer of bad news... or the moon turns to blood the eve of the great and dreadful day of the Lord... or the rooster crowing at night means bad luck on the morrow... or owls hooting in your trees brings ill-health. Humm, I have one of those but he lives on the roof and hangs out by himself so I'll just have to make sure he doesn't drum up some friends and "branch" out....

Raygen Turned Two

Quick tip to Vegas.

Picked up Grant from BYU and got to Jewel's late that Friday night.

Jewel did, among many things, what she does best -

threw a fab family party

in honor of Raygen turning two.

First time ever the extended Scarboroughs

have met Grant/Ruth and family,

and first grandchild birthday party for me

with both Grant/Jewel's families.

Grant meets Johnny's grandparents - Bobbie and Robert London

who are the salt of the earth kind of people

anyone would love to spend time with.

Raygen's favorite, and repeatedly asked for: a cup with crushed ice.

Raygen with Johnny's mom, Robin.

(Note the "fascinator" in her hair.)

(Sorry, "Pop", for chopping your head off!)

Long-time family friend, Renee,

who tended Johnny and Seth as a teenager,

and now lends support when a sitter is needed for Raygen.

(And still doesn't look much older than a teenager,

though she has one in the middle of three children of her own!)

Grant and Ruth's gift - a tea set from Beauty and the Beast,

and a mini tea-party with Hazel and "Grandmommy".

(Go to Jewel's cooking blog to get this recipe - an Oreo in the bottom,

still crispy, though topped with still moist cake a day later -

jewelbakes.squarespace.com .)

Relative to souvenir shopping in Orlando,

it took me awhile to get into any kind of a groove.

Diane and I ate at the Rainforest Cafe and when I realized,

waiting in line for a table,

there was a RC in both Vegas and Houston,

I bought the grandkids (way too-big) t-shirts

and gift certificates for the parents

so they could go to their respective RC's.

Then we ended up deciding to make a family trip of it

to the MGM after Raygen's birthday party (and naps).

Hayden asked if he could borrow my camera,

and came back with the three aquariam shots above.

Took better quality shots than most of mine, that's for sure!

Turns out the Houston RC is the last hold-out

using real sparklers

on top of the volcano dessert!

It was totally tasty - brownies topped with ice cream,

whipped topping and caramel drizzle.

(The blue is a reflection from the ceiling night sky.)

((My second close encounter with a volcano dessert

within a monthish - the first in Orlando actually "erupting",

and each unique and delicious in its own way.))

Wandering through the Belaggio after dinner,

in search of the fountains

which danced to "I'm Proud to Be An American!"

(See Ruth's blog for actual pictures of the fountains.)

Church Sunday, a scrumptious lunch,

and Dora the Explorer all the way home! (Almost.)

Thanks, Jewel and Johnny, for a wonderful weekend!