Last week of summer. Where did it go?

We've had a great summer, a fantastic summer. I hate to see it go, but at least it wasn't wasted.

Last May, the last day of the school year at about 3:00 p.m. when I figured we were more or less done, we started removing the doors from the kitchen cupboards to begin our kitchen facelift. It was supposed to be a short (week or two) diversion, the first little thing in a summer of construction.

Nothing ever turns out as it should, does it? It took us most of the summer to refinance, so we still haven't started the three bathrooms that we thought would be the centerpiece of the summertime. But we did get the exterior painted (I love it! even if I did have to sacrifice my shinbones) and the kitchen is so improved.

The last two weekends we've been working on installing the bargain kitchen flooring. It's so beautiful. Our kitchen table is in the piano room which is a minor temporary inconvenience, but will be so worth it. We're just about a half hour from done, but we had to stop early on Saturday because when we pulled up the old flooring in front of the back door to prepare it for the new flooring, we saw the subfloor had quite a bit of water damage. So Emma and I hopped into the Suburban and drove an hour to Home Depot while Blaine and Christian took out the back door and cut out a section of subfloor. When we got home they patched and replaced the subfloor, but all we could do was set the new door (with a window! natural light in my laundry room! oh squee, I love it) in the hole. B had to install that yesterday.




The door is the sort that has a miniblind right in the window, so I never have to dust it and it doesn't bang against the door when the kids slam it. I hope we'll finish the last remaining bit of the floor in spurts in the evenings after Blaine gets home from work this week. The kitchen still isn't done—needs trim around the base, around the windows and doors, but I love it anyway. :)

We're working with a plumber, I believe we'll begin the bathrooms in the next couple of weeks. Lots to do there, and we're doing the bulk of it ourselves—but that was going to be the case even during the summer, if we'd gotten the start we'd wanted to.

We're all beginning school next week. I imagine the swimming pool will have to come down sometime this week—nighttime temps are falling, the water is getting pretty cool, and after school starts the kids won't swim anyway. Oh, I hate to see another summer pass! I love summertime. I love the warmth, and I love the ease in my schedule. But I love teaching the kids, too; Kyrie is crazy excited to get started with kindergarten this year, and of course I need to make the most of the school year with Christian as it's the last year before he follows Emma to the Academy.

We took a trip to Priest Lake for a week, we went camping with my extended family in May, we took a number of day trips up to SLC. The McManii came and stayed with us, and I saw my high school/college friend Janae and her family. Christian was able to take over the job of tugging hoses, setting sprinklers, and keeping the lawn green. Emma and Christian were responsible for all the mowing. The kids kept their bedrooms clean (mostly) and stayed up on their housework jobs (mostly). We've had great vacations and done a lot of hard physical labor this summer. Seriously, it was one of the best. The kids were active, busy, and helpful, and so much got done. I'm happy. I do sort of wish it could continue another three months at least, but there's a sort of magic to autumn and learning and rearranging the schedule to fit in what's most important, as well.

Summer of 2009, you were a great one.

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Now playing: Muse - Uprising
via FoxyTunes

In which I confess

I don't like gardening.

I am programmed to think I should get up before dawn each lovely summer's morn (which is almost all of them here in Utah) and enjoy the peace, quiet, and cool as I pull pernicious weeds endangering my precious, thriving vegetables. My heart tells me I should devote several hours a week to raising all the produce a family of nine can consume, and I should take great pride in doing so.

My brain says, why? The grocery stores are full of the stuff, and a buck for a huge bunch of spinach certainly isn't my biggest grocery expenditure.

We Mormons have a pretty advanced sense of guilt. It's pretty common to feel really crappy for things we aren't doing, aren't doing well enough, do too much of, etc. We even tend to feel guilt for things other people do or don't do, if we can in any way tie their actions to our behaviors or deficiencies. And as I said before with the programming, we Mormons are Gardeners. We believe in being proficient at raising our own food and being able to care for ourselves. It isn't dogma, but it's certainly part of the culture.

Except, if I'm getting up pre-dawn on lovely summer mornings, which I am, I want to be outside running. I'm not a gardener, I'm an exerciser.

I don't have pride in a well-organized garden plot, I don't feel a sense of accomplishment from neat rows of carrots and cabbage, and when the weeds overtake the crops I think, "Oh well, I don't feel like pulling them."

But I totally want to lift weights, to jog, and to walk briskly up steep hills. This gives me a sense of well-being, accomplishment, and, yes, pride. To be almost 40 and still improving my physical condition! That's worth 20 bushels of home-grown spinach to me.

If only I could release the faint sense of guilt that whispers, "But the garden is the worthier pursuit."

In other news, I've totally revamped my exercise program. (Instead of gardening.) I feel great. But I've decided I can't weigh myself more often than fortnightly, perhaps even monthly. Because after a hard week of working out when I see the needle in the same place or (horrors!) even half a pound up, I think GAH it isn't working it doesn't matter what I do and then I eat whatever I want. Counter-productive. Solution: no weighing. Yay!

And no gardening.

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Now playing: Ludovico Einaudi - Andare
via FoxyTunes

Remove your hands from my person, if you please.

In fact, remove your person from my person.

I've always been mildly hands offish, with a large personal-space bubble. I don't like sitting so close beside friends that our thighs or arms touch, I don't use the shared armrest at a movie theater, I have many good friends I have never hugged, I don't stand close to people when I'm talking.

Blaine is the exception to all of this, of course; I sit so close to him as to practically be on top of, I hold his hand while walking, I hug frequently, etc. And yet, there is still too much distance and too little contact for his own personal tastes much of the time.

Back to our story: I love my children, I dote on my babies. But will you please all get off my lap?! I just want 30 minutes of not being touched, sat upon, or felt up. (Macklin, whom I am trying desperately to wean, frequently squishes his favorite part of my anatomy.) As soon as I put Macklin down, Kyrie climbs up. As soon as I put Kyrie down, Macklin says "Nnn! Nnn!" and raises his tiny arms with the cutely dimpled elbows, wiggling his fingers. As soon as I put Macklin back down Kyrie's back up. And if by chance I get away from those two sweethearts, Ethan or Libby is ready for a cuddle. And Jackson loves to stand beside me here in my computer chair and wrap his little arms around my right one, curtailing my range of motion almost entirely.

I love them all, and I adore the little shows of affection. But today I'd just like a couple of isolated moments, not being touched, grabbed, pushed, pinched, petted, pawed, squished, or sandwiched. Just a couple.

Of course if I ever chance to get away – for a jog, say, a solo grocery shopping trip, or even if Blaine takes all the kiddles somewhere and leaves me alone for a couple of hours – I'm ready for all the cuddles they'll give me as soon as we're reunited. So! I guess I need to get away for a bit!

Any volunteers to watch the kiddles while I go off alone? ;)