Becca Groves Header
 photo home_zps1cc7d3c8.png photo start_zpsa2c6c1a1.png photo motherhood_zps5b7bd8a5.png photo grovestead_zpsa872b0de.png  photo bees_zps9cbb22f2.png  photo contact_zps6de91cd9.png

purple and pink and princesses: elsie turns 3!




When Elsie was born the doctor announced, "It's a girl!" and I was overcome with joy and happiness. I was elated in that moment, and now three years later, I still cannot get over how my love can continue to grow and grow for this little girl who has been entrusted in my care. It's probably the most concrete evidence I have found of a Loving God...that our own love can grow and deepen, even when it seems you cannot love any more that you do. Surely we love because He first loved us.

We celebrated in style, capitalizing on Elsie's favorite colors. Recently I went through her clothes and sorted out anything that was not purple and pink. Because those clothes simply never get picked. She knows what she likes and I'm rolling with it. We made princess crowns and I made this Sophia the First cake, which ended up a bit more hilarious than awesome, but Elsie was mesmerized by it and that it all that matters.

We had both families here for a summer picnic and enjoyed a stunning Sunday night in the country. Some saw the barn for the first time, some played kickball, some wrestled with kittens, some prepped food and some cleaned it all up. Elsie is one blessed girl to be surrounded by so much family love!

(You can read Elsie's birth story here, and about when she turned one and then when she turned two.)

family camp at mount carmel ministries

This picture above really is my favorite scene in the whole world. When I have to picture a place to help me relax, this is the image I have in my head. Mount Carmel has been such a precious part of my whole life, and it was once again, a joy to be back.

You know what hit me the most this year? (And I felt this way at Lake Geneva too...) Family camp is so awesome for young moms. Because the meals are all made for you. You don't need to bring groceries or stop playing at the beach early to go and prep dinner. You can stay in your swimsuit right up until the bell rings and when you head up to the dining hall food will magically appear in front of you and your family. Another reason camp is awesome is because there is childcare. Our mornings and evening worship are spent with our age groups. Which means that for two, sometimes three hours my kids get to play with toys and counselors, while I get to enjoy a little time without them. Family camp actually provides little "vacations" away from your own kids. And it also provides really special memories of together time too. It's the best of both.

And then there is the whole grandparent thing. Not everyone brings extended family with them to camp (most families come without relations) but if you do, you are able to call your mom at 8am in the dining hall to see if she'll come and sit in your cabin to wait for your kids to wake, while you go and eat breakfast with your cousins.

We had a great time this year, as always. We went with my folks, my sister and her girls and then my Aunt Louie and her girls (Sarah and Kathy) and their families. 10 kids, 11 adults. And it was a blast. If you have any interest in coming some year, let me know. I'd be happy to tell you all about it. I think these pictures sort of paint a picture as to why I love it so much.
I've written a whole lot about Mount Carmel over the years, and even created this sweet video made up of pictures from my own childhood growing up at camp. Grandma B used to call it, "a little bit of heaven on earth" and I'd have to agree. 

eleven hours to alexandria

I've thought about a few different ways to tell this story. I could tell it by the numbers:
One Jeep
Two Tow Trucks
Three Hours: estimated time to get to camp
Four Groves Trying to Get to Bible Camp
Eleven Hours: actual time it took to get to camp

I could tell it hour by hour:
10:30- first attempt to depart
12:15- second attempt to depart
12:45- first tow truck
4:00- actual time of departure
7:00- second tow truck
9:30- arrival at Bible camp

Or I could tell you the whole shebang...

Saturday morning we got up, got the car loaded up, set the animals up for a few nights of neighbor care, and were in the car, seat belts on at 10:30. I said to Rory, "I am so proud of us! I can't believe we're making such good time!" We said a prayer for safety as we traveled up to Mount Carmel Family Bible Camp, and then Rory put the key in the ignition and nothing happened. No sound, no movement, no nothing.

It appeared the battery was dead, so we all got out, Rory took the old battery out, went to Menards to buy a new battery (with our truck) and came back to put it in. It was a little hairy because a screw had broken that held the battery in, but with the help of a C-clamp I found in the junk drawer, the battery was secured and at 12:15 he went to start the car again. And again, no sound, no movement, no nothing. Rory called for a tow truck.
I did the thing any good wife would do in this moment. I told him I was going to town to buy a pair of shoes I had meant to get before we left for camp. And I'd pick up lunch on my way home. Unfortunately they didn't have my shoes in my size, but I did come home with Happy Meals and my favorite Nacho Supremo's from a new taco joint in town my friend Ali just introduced me to.

On the way home I thought a lot about choosing our attitude, choosing our story, choosing to not let all this car stuff ruin our first day of vacation. And somehow it really didn't. We had a fun picnic and then spent three hours waiting for our car to be fixed. The kids had quiet play time and Rory and I read books. The shop called and told us it was the starter. And around 4:00 we were finally pulling out of our lane with a running vehicle.
Even while driving through the cities we started to feel the car shift out of gear. The engine would rev for no reason, the gear would feel like it was slipping. It was a little disconcerting. We made it two hours to Clearwater for dinner, and it was only then that all positive mojo finally took a nose dive. I had bought the kids strawberry sundaes and myself a chocolate shake for being such good sports about our unexpected day and commented to Rory that the ice cream treats cost more than the meal we had just eaten. 

And I should have kept that money detail to myself. Because it sent Rory off into budget land, suddenly feeling the expense of the barn coupled with the new reality that we would likely be buying a minivan in the next few days. Not to mention the money I had just spent on sundaes. 

We got back into the car and Rory turned on a polka station that the kids found hilarious and then a country station that made them want to dance:

roadtrip from Becca Groves on Vimeo.

And then the car began to really give us trouble. To compensate, Rory continued to slow down, hoping to get us closer to Alexandria. Eventually we were going 45 miles an hour on Interstate 94, where cars and trucks flew past us at 75 miles per hour. We were between exits when it got that bad, and it was six miles before we could exit. There was no polka music playing then. Just a lot of silence and once in a while I'd here Rory whisper, "Help us, Jesus." It was a sincere prayer and even the kids seemed to catch on that they should keep quiet too.

Eventually we came to the West Union exit, an exit we had never really noticed before and now we will be forever grateful for its existence. We drove the car to the on ramp, and pulled off to the side to call another tow truck. The kids and I pulled out our camping chairs and sat on the side of the road, yelling "Semi!" every time we saw a semi-truck go past on 94. We called my dad who was already at camp and he set out to pick us up with all of our camp gear. 

The tow truck showed up at the same time Dad, and we were so grateful to see both of them. 
And then we drove to Mount Carmel. It was 9:30 when we arrived, eleven hours after we had set out, eight hours later than we had intended. But we were so glad to be there. And as it turned out, it ended up being one of my very favorite times at Mount Carmel. The next 2 1/2 days flew by (tomorrow I'll post pictures) and were so rich and full of family time. So glad we kept persevering to get there!

oh honey!

Sweetest honeybee I ever did see. Elsie put on her honey bee costume after we spent the morning with Adam, the friend who has mentored us along on our bee keeping adventure. You might remember that we ended up losing both of our hives, one collapsed late last fall and the other didn't survive the winter. If we're completely honest, I was really disheartened by the loss of both hives. I worked hard last summer, felt like I was doing everything right, and even then I lost both of the hives. Bee keeping is quite a bit of work. And when it came time to try it again this spring, I didn't have it in me to start from scratch.

Rory took over, and I was so grateful. He has written about his bee keeping at length at The Grovestead Blog. The thing about beekeeping is that it takes two years to get a hive to produce enough honey for you to eat. The entire first year is spent building and strengthening the hive and ensuring the bees will have enough honey to live on all winter long. It is only in the second summer that you get to add honey supers (the smaller boxes with shallow frames) to the top of your stack, and it is only out of those supers that you can harvest your honey.

But because both of our hives died, we ended up with frames full of honey. Some of those frames Rory actually gave to the new bees this year to help get them started and up and running. Some of those frames I have stuck my own finger into and eaten straight out of the comb (the best!). And Some of those frames we recently brought to Adam's house so they could be spun and we could have our first honey. We'd rather have living bees from last year, but second best would be some of our own honey.
Adam used a hot knife to cut the wax off of the comb, and then a fork to break up any comb he didn't uncap. And then he set each frame into the extractor that then spins the honey to the sides, down the bottom and out the tap. It was pretty awesome to watch, and delicious to sample. In a crazy twist, it was a very cool day in July, which is bad for spinning honey. You want that honey warm and flowing, but because it was so cool it was thicker than usual.

It was fun to watch and I was proud of our little contribution. Rory is doing an awesome job with our bees this year and we're hopeful that maybe next year, we'll have honey bees healthy and strong, on year two.
Until then, this 2-year-old honey bee will keep our life very sweet.

neighborhood potluck

It was just one week prior that Rory said to me, "Let's have the neighbors over. How about next Thursday?" And before we had left for Bible Camp he had sent out an email inviting everyone to our house for a potluck. I think that's a really important thing about Rory's event planning. He doesn't overthink it. I would have sent out a few dates to see what worked best. I would have scheduled it a month out to give everyone enough heads up. But Rory picked the date seven days from the idea, and as it turns out everyone but two families could make it. Which is a great turnout. And he just did it. He didn't wait to hear back from people...he just set the date, told the plan, and bam, he had planned a party.
We wrote in the email that we would provide pulled pork and beverages and then each neighbor "replied all" with what they were bringing. This was so awesome because they built the menu with no holes. Everything was accounted for: desserts, baked beans, salads, dinner rolls, fruit and ice cream sundaes complete with a rainbow of sprinkle choices. Patsy brought the sundaes, clearly with the heart of a grandma, because my kids were so thrilled with their sprinkles.
There was lots of time to enjoy the cats and kittens, but most exciting was giving the barn tour. Our neighbors have watched this thing go up with wide eyes, often stopping to hear of the progress, always wondering what our plan is. And at the potluck, they finally got to see the inside and hear more of our hopes and dreams for this space. It's such a blessing to live in community. I love the people we are surrounded by on this road and feel well cared for with their presence nearby.
Rory posted over at The Grovestead today, giving a bit more of a tour of the barn. Be sure to click over there to see a few more pictures. We passed our final inspection yesterday and next we'll have concrete poured in parts of the barn (not the stables). And THEN we will move in all of the bee keeping, tree tapping, chicken feed and other supplies that I am so thrilled to be moving out of my garage!

can't put my book down...

My mom has often lamented that she wished she would have read to us kids more when we were little. It's one of the guilts she harbors as a mom, which I find a bit hilarious because all three of her kids were honor students and all three of us got our masters degrees. Clearly we could read and write. And reading comprehension was always my best score on standardized tests. But for so long I dreaded reading. Hated it. And I absolutely know why: because for 25 years of my life, it was all assigned.

Assigned Reading! Gross!

I remember teachers making bookmarks with the reading schedule and what chapter we should be on by what date. And I was always behind. Always. And not because I was a slow reader. But because the book was assigned. It just never felt like a pleasure.

My best friend growing up used to read books under her sheets at night with a flashlight. I remember a few times she was grounded because her mom caught her reading so late at night. Ha! I couldn't even fathom what that would be like. (Mostly because at the same time I was army crawling into my parents bedroom at 10:30 each night to watch M.A.S.H. with them, without them knowing I was there.)

Anyway, this whole thing with me and books has sort of continued. Every so often I read a book I adore and it gets me excited, but I have trouble starting books.

This has all changed, however. I have read six books in the last six weeks, and I don't know what has gotten into me. I remember my own mom getting lost in books all during my childhood and knowing on family vacations that "we had lost her" while she read in the car. And I think I'm turning into my mom. Some of those books I read in two days. One week I read 2 1/2 book. I actually haven't read anything in the last seven days because I thought my family deserved a bit more eye contact from me. :)

A few things that have changed:
1) I used to read a lot of non-fiction memoir or topical books. But I'm onto fiction, and I love it.
2) I try to read the first 100 pages as fast as I can. And if I don't like the book by then, I return it to the library. This month I started two books this way and felt no guilt returning them, unfinished.
3) I am choosing to read books that come highly recommended. After basically a lifetime of not reading for pleasure, I feel I have many options! (I'm also trying to read through this list. So far not one book has let me down!)
4) We currently don't have a tv in our house. Which is obviously great motivation to read for entertainment!
5) I have found that reading outside is one of my favorite things. The combination is perfection. Add an icy drink, and life is really, really grand.

And you? Do you have a favorite fiction book you'd love to share?!! I'm all ears! (I'm about to start that book pictured above, just as soon as I put the kids into Quiet Play Time. Hooray!)

pregnancy pillows


I've been waking up between 3 and 4 each morning unable to sleep. I toss and turn and try and then give up and eventually end up downstairs wide awake. This has led to some productive moments, like Saturday when I ordered my blog in book form for the year 2011 and then packed our 4th of July picnic to be eaten later that day at the parade. It has also been informative, like this morning when in the midst of flashing lightening I saw the silhouettes of five enormous raccoons waddling towards the garden. And it has been beautiful as I've watched the sun rise over the grove and slowly the shapes of our outdoors become visible.

But mostly it has been frustrating. Because I know I need to be sleeping. I'll want to have been sleeping come 9 am. And that's the problem. So I've been using these wee hours (it's currently 3:57) for a bit of research. Today it was pregnancy pillows and a little google image search came up with the above photo spread. I remember blogging about these when I was pregnant with Ivar and wondering who in their right mind would order such a thing. Mostly my concern was where to store such a beast after the baby comes. Today I looked into a few of them, but then I remembered my other concern with these from five years ago. Do you notice anything missing in these pictures? Or anyone? Where is the husband? It seems to me that if you order a pregnancy pillow, which appears to be the size of two additional human bodies, there is no longer room in your bed for your spouse. Which might be problematic if your husband enjoys sleeping in his bed too.

So I've put together my own special set of pillows that seem to help, but mostly my problem isn't so much with the pillows, it's just that I'm wide awake. I am assuming 3 am will become a feeding time and all of this is simply preparation for what is to come.

Now I'm off to pick out pictures to print from the year 2014...

(and Rory has a new garden update up at The Grovestead!)

the pre-party panic attack

Thursday night we had our neighborhood over for a potluck. I love my neighbors, knew everyone coming and told myself all week long that I didn't need to fret over this gathering. It was casual, everyone was bringing something, I know these people, it would go fine. My folks came over the day before and helped get the yard ready and spiff up the place. They did so much! They weed whipped every tree and raised bed and around every building. They cut down dead branches and trimmed trees, planted and transplanted, pruned the raspberries and weeded the garden a bit. Mom even folded my laundry. It was incredible.

I woke up on Thursday morning certain that I could accomplish what needed to get done without stressing about the party. I went grocery shopping right away, put the pork in the crock pots, took the kids to get haircuts and fed everyone lunch. During quiet play time I swept and mopped my kitchen and cleaned off the counters (hooray!) and cleaned the bathroom and garage a bit. 

And then it was 3:00 and I saw that the big crock pot was actually set for Warm and not on 4 hour cook (ahh!) and I still had the following on my list: buy ice, set up tables and chairs, gather dishes and place settings, make lemonade and ice tea, shred the pork, make the salad, and shower and look presentable. And that was when the panic set in. I had two hours until everyone was to arrive at 5, and two kids who seemed to be just as needy as their mama. 

The irony of the whole day was that it was supposed to be a quiet day. The barn is completed and the builders had packed up the day before. But the inspector showed up first thing in the morning, found three things he wanted reinforced, so the builders came back by 10 and stayed all day to make the changes. And the water guy showed up and started digging the trench and tearing out trees to make way for the water line from the well house to the barn. And at one point our neighbor came by to chop the hay in our field (but was unable to get to the field because of the six foot trench running through our yard.

So much for spiffing up the place! Trees were falling and dirt was everywhere!
At 3:00 I didn't cry. I didn't yell. But on the inside I was freaking out. And I proceeded to freak out towards my husband anytime he showed his face. Which became less and less and the party drew near and I was getting more and more panicked. Funny how that works.

So it makes a girl wonder. Can a person host a large group gathering without having the pre-party panic attack? My guess is that it is probably possible. I bet I might even host a gathering at some point where everything goes smoothly and no water guys are ripping my land apart and I prepare with grace and a smile. But I decided last night that having people over is the goal. The goal is to build community. And if it is stressful, it is still worthwhile. The worst thing would be to throw in the towel and say, "we don't entertain." Because the party was awesome and I love our neighbors and it was worth every minute of work and panic to have everyone here.

It also made me think that when a man marries a woman he should know what he is signing up for. A fitting vow would be, "I promise to take you, Becca, even when you're a hot mess before company is coming over. I promise to act as a landing pad, no matter how unwarranted, for all of your anxiety, perfectionism and social stress that comes along with party planning. And I promise to forgive you of all of your pre-party intensity once the party is over and we both recognize it was a worthwhile success of a gathering."

And it was a worthwhile success of a gathering. We ate well, gave barn tours and got all caught up with the friends we wave to each day as they drive by. More pictures to come.

goldilocks

On Saturday night we met up at Troy and Sara's bus after worship. We were there to listen to Sara's new album that is coming out in the fall and I need you to know I ADORE this one. I love it so much. Just like I've loved ever other of her records. But get excited. I cannot wait for it to be released so I can tell you about each song. It's so, so, so good.

It meant we didn't get back to our own room until a little before midnight. I was pokey brushing my teeth in the black room by the light of my cell phone (our kids had been sleeping in our room with Mimi while we were gone) and Madison and Rory had already gotten into their own beds a while earlier. And then there was a knock at the door.

I opened the door and found a mom, asking if I had seen her 8-year-old son. She said they had just been to fireworks and Perkins and she knew he came in the building, but didn't make it up to her room. I assured her I hadn't seen him, but that if she was going to look outside I'd join her. She said she wanted to try the other rooms first, to be sure he didn't go into the wrong room.

I shut the door, and stood scrolling through instagram. And then with the light of my cell phone, walked over to my bed and in the dim light saw an eight-year-old boy sound asleep and spread out on my bed. I was so shocked! I flew to the door looking up and down the hallway for the mom. She was knocking on another door a few rooms over and I whisper-yelled, "Mam! He's in my bed! I had no idea!"

She came and scooped him up and said he had been getting our rooms confused all day long. She left with her son and then I was left with a room full of sleeping family and no one to tell, "There was a boy asleep in my bed!"

The next day I saw the family at the cafeteria and met the kid who had crawled into my lower bunk and made himself at home. He didn't remember any of it, but I will never forget. Also, he had blonde hair. Which pretty much makes him my personal Goldilocks.

family camp at lake geneva christian center

We just got back from a weekend up at Family Camp. Rory and his family grew up going to Lake Geneva for kids camp and family camp, while I was a few lakes over on Lake Carlos at Mount Carmel. This was my first time sleeping over at Lake Geneva and I was so excited to get to experience Rory's camp.

When we took the Osakis exit on Friday afternoon, it just happened that we caught up to Troy and Sara's bus that held both their and Kyle and Lisa's families for the weekend. I swear to you I turned into a fifth grader when I saw that bus. I was so excited to be going to camp and to run into family on the way made me a bit ecstatic.
I think the very best part about attending a family camp is all of the downtime to catch up and have meaningful conversations. I talked so much in the last three days, always switching it up depending on who I sat next to at mealtimes or found in the coffee shop or ran into on my way to the next thing. I got caught up with nieces and nephews this way too, which is always a joy. We ate most meals in the cafeteria and the only things scheduled each day were morning worship and evening worship, powerful times when the camp gathers together in the worship center.
Going to family camp with your extended family is basically like planning a family reunion where you don't have to plan much of anything. You just plan to play and laugh and talk and read and nap a lot. I can't recommend it enough. In a few weeks we'll head up to Mount Carmel for more family camp with my side of the family. We can't wait for more!

feeling fancy free

We have a sweet ritual to hit up the DQ right after my midwife appointments. The kids enjoy coming to my appointments and playing with the toys in the room, and then they love getting DQ mini strawberry sundaes and eating them outside at the umbrella tables. If we're lucky, a train goes by and blows its whistle.

I think I've named this three other times this month, but I'm going to do it again. We are in a sweet spot right now. I feel like I am getting a little vacation in motherhood this summer and it's awesome. My kids can get in the car and buckle up on their own (Ivar helping Elsie) now. They can dress themselves and put on their crocs. Everyone is out of diapers and naps are rare. More than being pregnant with either of them, I am so fully aware with this pregnancy of the goodness of this pocket of time and how everything will change come October. Then we'll be back to naps, diapers, heavy infant carriers, diaper bags, scheduled feedings and a very dependent little baby. And I'll be ready for it and in some ways eager to hunker down again with a tiny baby for the winter.

But in the meantime, I am savoring this summer and all the ways we are footloose and fancy free.

morning make-over update

At the beginning of June I wrote out my summer goals, one of which was to do the e-course to make-over my mornings. I have had a few friends ask how it is going, and this morning I finally wrote the following out to a dear friend in an email. And then I thought, "I should just put that on the blog!" So here it is, first written to Julie, now to you. :)

***

Funny you should ask about the morning make-over course, since I'm up right now at 6:30. That would make it seem like I'm really seizing the day! But this early email has more to do with funny sleep stuff from pregnancy and not falling back asleep too easily. The course itself was helpful for a while...I had a lot of take-aways more to do with my evening routine...things I can do to set myself up for a better morning. Like setting out my own clothes (age 34, and still drama), deciding on breakfast for everyone (a constant frustration, short order cook...) and trying to at least have the kitchen table cleared off before I go to bed. Those are my evening goals. In the morning I try to get dinner prepped (mostly just in my head...to think about what I'll need to get done before 5:00) and those few little tweaks have helped me a lot.

That said, the girl who does the videos strikes me as quite put together, and as the days passed her intensity overwhelmed me with her personal wake-up time of 5 am, morning run, daily to-do list and ambitious daily goals. I've written about how I have finally let myself off of the hook this year of motherhood, letting myself "just be a mom." Everything out there would encourage every woman to have a side job or to build a platform or have an etsy shop, and someday I very well may have something else going on the side. But right now, when they're little, I'm just tired of feeling like I should be doing something more. So while the instructors suggestions were to have a passion and goals and something you're working towards that will get you out of bed each day, I sort of let myself off the hook thinking, "just get meals on the table and enjoy the kids..."

Also, I have been reading books this summer like never before. And late night reading really wrecks any hopes for an early and productive morning! But man these books have become a highlight of my summer.

***

I'll add this too: The course really ended up being more about goal setting and follow through, which are always fascinating topics to me. I even bought a new planner at one point. But in the end, I am left feeling quite fine with knowing my "big rocks" in this season are to feed my family, tend to the house and celebrate my kids. And I'd even add in, to nurture my own friendships. That's a big rock too. Building friendships and community is a huge deal to me, and a worthy goal to name.

a midsummer party

On Saturday we were invited to a friend's 5th birthday party. We met these friends at the library just weeks after we had moved to town. The mom and I bonded quickly because we had both just had a baby, both had just moved to town, and both were always twenty minutes late to library rhyme and time. We would chat in the back and congratulate each other on just getting out of the house that day. 

The mom threw this party with all of her knowledge from leading 9 years at the Swedish Concordia Language Camps. We learned a song in Swedish, collected flowers to decorate the May pole, made flower wreaths to wear on our heads and miniature May poles. And then we got strawberry cake. It was so charming and fun. 

At the party the mom explained that on Midsommer, everyone puts seven different flowers under their pillow, in hopes that they will have good dreams about the person they will marry. Ivar had been up for an hour that night before with a terrible nightmare. So when he heard that seven flowers under your pillow will bring you good dreams, he was thrilled. We saw my mom later that day and she gave him seven flowers. We told him he could set them next to his pillow on his nightstand and it would work just the same. And sure enough, Sunday morning he woke up and announced that had no bad dreams!

buttered corn and good fathers


butterhead from Becca Groves on Vimeo.

I was raised hearing a story that my sister when she was really little sat next to Great Grandma Anders at a family picnic and Great Grandma kept buttering Annika's corn, and Annika kept licking it off. They did this for the entire meal and Great Grandma was so patient sneaking in her own bites from her plate between butterings.

Last night we watched a similar storyline, one generation later. Oh we laughed so hard. I wrote on instagram that I have a dream that one day my daughter will have her head carved in butter at the Minnesota State Fair. And that this surely puts us on the right track.

We had a great Father's Day. We went to church and the dad's were asked to stand and then the church was supposed to surround the fathers and pray for them. The way it worked out (thank goodness!), I was the only one who stood by Rory and when I went to pray I just cried and cried. I married Rory because I loved him and knew he was good stuff. But I hadn't really thought through to how he'd be as a dad. I was overwhelmed yesterday with how grateful and glad I feel that I married a guy who takes fatherhood so seriously. He is fully involved, his kids adore him, he keeps behavior boundaries in check and adds so much sanity and structure to our home. He is taking this responsibility seriously, teaching, guiding, loving and leading. And I just cried a wet mess onto his shoulder as my prayer of thanksgiving for this good guy. And he liked that prayer.
My mom and dad and Annika, Jedd, Mara, Sonna and Svea came for a picnic dinner and it was lovely. It was steamy when everyone arrived at 4, but continued to cool down into the evening. That's such a nice part of the day. We had a picnic, got out the bubble machine (the kid's picked out as Rory's father's day gift... greatly encouraged by their mom), ate two homemade strawberry pies, held kittens, gave garden tours and barn tours and played a few rounds of family kick ball.

I'm so grateful for my own father. I was telling him about how I was at a kid's birthday party on Saturday and knew everyone there with just one degree of separation. Either I knew them or we quickly found mutual friends from college or bible camp or my family. Dad is a connector, always meeting people, finding things (friends, home towns, cabin locations) in common and helping introduce new acquaintances to old. That's what he did every Sunday at church. He'd find the fun fact and then tell the visiting family, "Oh, you have to meet the Johnsons, they have a cabin in Spooner too!" and then introduce the families and move on to the next family. Even on Saturday night at my sister's huge summer party in her backyard, Rory commented that Dad just worked his way around the perimeter of the yard, visiting everyone, making sure he knew how they knew Annika. It really is a gift, and so important. He's a community builder and I love that about him and how I get to reap so much relationally from all the connections he has made throughout his life.

In light of all that we see on the news and read in the paper, it seems to me our greatest hope would be for more Rory's and Paul's, leading their families with intention, creating community and building relationships wherever they go.