Comings & Goings
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Linnea broke St. Louis soil after one in the morning with all the other retreat crew.
After Joe had spent his last three days over wedding preparations – rehearsals, dinner, parties, catching up with friends, and the ceremony, Rose was accompanying him back to Philmont for one day of road trip, four of vacation (camping, hiking, and scaling), to return at five AM Monday morning via Lambert. They departed at midnight.
On the Eight’s last Sunday – some tears from the big boy. Photo album, Amazon gift card for a Kindle, tables of fat orange and lime cupcakes…
And Sunday School was delivered by a part-Japanese seminary student – Jason Mirikitani – which was also captured on some sort of professional camera. The audience grouping included, curiously, Frank Cusumano from KSDK.
Over the lunch table, Carrie was comparing Puck’s dimples.
“I think Linnea has lots of dimples too,” Puck said graciously. “Under all those dots on her face.”
Linnea giggled under her freckles.
Francis and Puck made plans to visit the YMCA. Part of the pull for the pool – in Puck’s mind – was the “baby showers” in the locker room, and the ability to wedge himself inside the lockers when he “didn’t want to see Uncle Francis change”.
“I put my underwear in the top, Uncle Francis,” Puck announced before departure, stuffing a white wad into Francis’ backpack.
“No, Puck! My whistle’s in there!”
Mom and Dad napped.
Linnea fell asleep on the couch.
Carrie prepared for another business meeting with Lucia.
And OLeif processed web stuff.
Also, Madeline and “Cricket” (interim name for Cracker’s sister) had been deposited for the next five or six days at the house. So to Dad’s excessive joy, there were now four bunnies and four cats tromping the stomping grounds.
Sleepy, sleepy.
Too sleepy for Linnea to fully revive herself.
By the time three o’clock dawned, plans had been made.
Carrie was dropped off at Starbuck’s to meet with Lucia.
Grandma Combs was waiting for them with an “over the river and through the woods” goulash, or hobo casserole. English muffins translated into French bread. And a banana-strawberry juice, which OLeif dubbed “Pepto-Bismol”.
Conversation included the extended Combs side of the family and a certain New Mexican Thanksgiving 55 years in the past involving a sandstorm and Grandma Combs fainting in the kitchen.
Grandma cut up a few cinnamon rolls later and passed them around as Carrie rejoined the team.
“We’re feeding the five thousand here,” Grandma laughed, offering the plate of golden wedges to the family.
Crackers took a snooze with Puck as he fell asleep for the night to the strains of the game.
Around nine, OLeif walked into the living room…
“Ok, cats. Time to go downstairs.”
Both cats fled into the kitchen.
By the time OLeif arrived there himself, they had removed themselves to the top of the stairs, in position.
Peculiarly convenient.
Too convenient…
Collette was beginning to wonder what, exactly, was up with these oddly so-far-easy creatures.