Family, Fruit, Heights, and English

This past weekend Ben and I took Henry to visit his great-grandparents over by Pilot Mountain. It was a fun trip, not too hot or humid, we got to take a walk on the trail through the woods and play with a kitten that's taken up residence in the mysterious tarp-covered pile of who-knows-what next to the barn. Grandma would've liked for us to have taken her home with us, but I had some reservations about bringing an ear mite infested, possibly wormy barn kitty into my relatively clean house. Plus I figured barn kitty would much rather stay in the country and live a fun-filled life of killing mice and other vermin, as opposed to vying with Dori over who gets to hog the favorite lazing spots.

Anyway, most of the fruit trees were dropping ripe fruit, so we were able to bring home a bunch of apples and pears and a bag of blueberries. Grandma also threw in some homemade blueberry jam. I've already made a pie with the blueberries. It takes a special kind of weirdo that won't eat pie. I live with two. Oh, well. More for me.

After the family visit we went up to the mountain. Remembering my past acrophobic wuss-out the last time we went up there, I decided to let Ben and Henry hike around the knob while I hung out and enjoyed the view of protective trees and solid footing. Which turned out really good because I wasn't there to see it when Henry slipped a few times, even if nothing came of it because Ben was holding his hand the entire time. Still, it didn't do me any good to see two little guys running recklessly ahead of their parents down the steps at the head of the trail, and then hear somebody else yelling at their little boy to, "stop, Stop, STOP!!!" I don't know if it's being older and more experienced in life, or just being a mother that gets me stressed when little kids run around precipices, but I just wasn't willing to push it this time.

Sunday was one hundred percent stress free. We've been released from the Spanish branch and as much as I love our Hispanic friends, it sure is nice to be hearing English again. It was especially nice to know that Henry was getting something out of sacrament meeting; he still has to sit still and try to be reverent, but at least he understands what's being said.

All in all, I'm happy to report that life is good. Now I'm off to mow the lawn before it gets too hot.