Whew, what a month! (What a summer!) Travel, YW camp in the mountains, reunion here, reunion there . . . there's barely been time to take a swamp coolered breath of home between excitements.
Rob and I just got home from our latest shared adventure, this one in Idaho. We attended a family reunion for the several families of my paternalmost (isn't that a fabulous word I just invented?) great-grandfather. I met many family members I never knew existed before this month, and admired the common Bowen nose gene as expressed by various aunts, uncles, and cousins. Uncle Kelly, my dad's kid brother, and one of only two people I actually knew at the reunion, solved a mystery for me that has tickled at my curiosity for years—the story of how my dad knew the identity of my guardian angel (I'm serious). Rob and I visited the graves of the great-grandfather in whose name the gathering was organized, and his first wife, my great-grandmother, a woman who captured my heart the first time I read her patriarchal blessing (which I read again, aloud to Rob, while we sat there alone in the cemetery). We enjoyed the quiet rural landscape of Madison County, admired the under-construction Rexburg temple, and nearly bought a pretty, colorful set of Noritake dishes from the local D.I.
As if that lineup of events wasn't homegrown high times enough, we spent the weekend in Pokey, with more family. It was lovely. They are fun. Their home is peacefully quiet, clean, and ordered in the deliciously simple way. My ears and eyes loved the space. We hung out with them when we weren't Bowenizing. We went for a night walk. We went to church with them. We ate too much good food with them. We sang "Popcorn Poppin' On the Apricot Tree" more times than I can count. We stayed up too late together laughing at some of the 2007 Cannes Lion award winners. (Okay, okay, I have to share one with you and then I'll get back to my post.)
(Good, huh? Onward!) Our little alpha male weasel of a dog sexually harrassed their much larger alpha male killer dog who, gratefully, did not decide to draw blood, although he certainly talked like he would. We visited their next door neighbor and made friends with a herd of beautiful, affectionate, toe-nibbling donkeys. We snuck sideways looks at our family's sweet life on the hill, used their shampoo (thanks and sorry), and loved them a whole lot.
After our stay in Pokey, I am energized again to work toward my own ideal order here at home. Our resources trickle in slowly, so I've got to be patient with the process, but I so crave mental and physical space and polish. At least I can keep up the decluttering.
I was just now doing some of that, going through a big filing cabinet, tossing out old unnecessary folders and papers, and I found a little family-related treasure from several years ago: two blues "songs" Rob and I wrote with his family while we were travelling together. I introduced them to Exquisite Corpse games, and that's how we came up with these. We never set them to actual music, but we certainly did sing the blues that day in the old Suburban. What a hoot.
A-hop skippin' baby, I can't set down, no no
Got a pepper in my shoe, a pepper in my shoe
I'm gonna give you the hot foot baby
If you try and run away from me
So so hum sho higgity pig pag boggety blow by blow
Blues blues blues for me, pee wee paw paw me
So short I am, I cannot see
I have not grown since I, since I was three
I am still only as tall as my mama's knee
I just need hormone pills—now there's the key
Riders in the sky will soon come by
To take me home I'm sure
Fast Food Blues
Denny's says their breakfasts are cheap and good
For $2.99 you wait a long time, and they're out of that food
Runnin' to the store there right across the way
You wouldn't think it's big enough to shop in all day
Sippin' my cold pop, umhum, fizzin' untroubled beauty
You cain't buy when you ain't got no money
Don't give me no cooked taters, no cooked taters for me, baw baw baw
I'm sick of green termaters, green termaters for me
I need a little sugar darlin'
That's the only medicine for me
Tell you what: I love my families.