Human Bean Soup

Let’s review:

1.Climb a mountain

2.Swim in a lake

3.Shoot bow and arrows

4.Go to a cemetery

Ah yes, swim in a lake.

Would we say…swim? I’ll let you be the judge of that.

Brave, brave, very brave…

Not so brave.

As brave as they come.

And…that’s a wrap!

In conclusion I leave you with a few observations Mr. S. has made about his stay in Henrieville:

1.”You know, kids around here do a lot of strange and dangerous things, like, riding motorcycles and drinking coke.”

2.”Dinner should NEVER be before it get’s dark outside and bedtime should NEVER be before 11:00 p.m!”

3.”Aunt L., Why do you think I’m the best behaved kid here?”

4.”Going to the park here was hardly what I would call fun. All the stuff was either old or broken.”

And, that’s why we love him!

Simon was invited to spend a WHOLE week in Henrieville, Utah with his cousins.

Being well aware of the wide spectrum of possibility which awaited him there, Simon came up with his own customized list of activities to be completed during his stay.

They are as follows:

1.Climb a mountain

2.Swim in a lake

3. Shoot bow and arrows

4. Go to a cemetery

We don’t try to understand his requests, we just try to meet them…at least the harmless ones. So far, two of his four requests have been met including one unexpected BONUS adventure! In fact, let’s start there.

Once the determination to “climb a mountain” had been expressed Aunt L. came up with the idea that they could climb a mountain and explore a cave- that’s right- a CAVE!!!- all at the same place!

(At this time we take a moment to commend Aunt L. for most cleverly wrapping two adventures into one! Mothers everywhere applaud you!)

It should also be noted here that my heart swells with pride when I see the Singular Mr. S. looking out for the little ones- as long as there are no sinister ulterior motives.

Just look at those happy cave faces!

Next on the agenda (technically last on the list but Aunt L. was kind enough to get down to business right away) -Cemetery.

As I mentioned before- we don’t ask too many questions. They tend to lead to more confusion. Nevertheless, a cemetery was chosen and not just for it’s stunning aesthetics, no, local tour guide (Uncle M.) informed the group that all of them actually have a common ancestor buried here. He told the children to look for Oliver George Anderson- Great Great Great Grandfather of one Simon Rex Eagar. It is also significant for Mr. S. to know that Mr. Anderson was the father of Seth Rex whom Simon’s father and also Simon himself were named for. Now, that’s a pretty savory bite of history for Mr. S. to chew on all in one day!

He was determined to find it himself…

And, there it is!

I am also told that per his request Aunt L. picked up some smoke bombs for the entertainment portion of the evening. Uncle M. lit them and everyone was captivated. So, all in all- a dream come true!

In closing I would like to submit that while many, many qualities of the Singular Mr. Simon please me to no end this next photo embodies what I love most about him.

Aunt L. informed him that his hat was on backwards. His response:

So, until tomorrow’s adventures-

keep your hats on! (backwards)

When we think of you

we think of-

patience

wisdom

strength

humor

loyalty

comfort

and

love.

Every day you remind us.

Every night we close our eyes with you nearby,

singing our fears away.

“Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.”

Happy Fathers Day.

If I could choose one moment to live in forever…

okay, maybe there are six.

Announcing (finally) the Universal Premier of:

Margot Nettalien Eagar

(For the good, if not sadly uncultured, citizens of Utah- Margot is pronounced MAR-GOH, sounds like CAR-GO or FAR-GO. The T is silent-shhhh…or as we say in our house “sneaky” like the K in Knox- get it? Okay, I feel better.)

Here she is:

Born on the 6th day of April, 2010 at 12:45 p.m

-weighing in at a hefty 8 lbs. 13 ounces

-measuring 19.5 inches long

-sporting a full head of long, dark hair

-taking the breath away from all who witnessed her arrival.

She is exquisite,

resplendent,

angelic,

divine,

stunning,

splendid…

perfect.

If only the words to describe her had yet been invented.

There is only one word- Margot.

We are madly in love with

her eyes,

her lips,

her fingers,

her toes,

her cheeks,

her chin…

with her.

The world is more sublime,

more beautiful,

more peaceful,

more pure,

more vast and precious…

because she is in it.

And so, we welcome Margot Nettalien

into the poetry of our quintessence,

the finely woven tapestry of our tranquility,

the radiant constellations of our Heaven,

the quiet chambers of our hearts…

…forever.

You know it’s time to pay the piper when you get a threatening call from the Elementary School secretary concerning your delinquent lunch money account.

Such was the case for us today.

Actually it was a voicemail which went a little something like this:

“Mr. and Mrs. Eagar, your darling children are now IN THE RED on their lunch accounts which means that the good people of Fussypants Elementary have now been feeding these filthy beggars out of the goodness and charity of their long suffering hearts for ONE ENTIRE DAY! It is my duty to inform you that the next time (tomorrow) your starving urchins approach our food service professionals with their dirty little paws open they will absolutely and without further ado be DENIED sustenance. For further uninterrupted food service please send your little darlings to the front office BEFORE school and ALONE to execute the exchange of funds (brown paper bag, small unmarked bills only.) Tell no one.

This message will self destruct in 30 seconds.

Yours truly,

Mrs. Trunchbull, Child Discipline Specialist.”

There’s a small chance the message has been slightly editorialized by myself….very small. Nevertheless, come on! I was, in fact, told that they would not be allowed to eat lunch tomorrow without payment and that’s just policy. It’s not as though I would only pay the lunch bill once I had been sufficiently threatened with the well being of my children. I am a reasonable woman.

I don’t know, call me crazy- I think we may be taking ourselves a little too seriously…starving children to teach the parents…hmph.

Moving on- Simon gets the message in the form of a stamp on his hand (think star-clad arm bands during the holocaust.) Yes, he has been MARKED!

Sign of the devil!!! AHHHH!!!

We have all been humiliated now.

But, we must carry on. Now is not the time to stick it to the man- not when my child’s lunch is at stake. We obediently sign the check to Mrs. Trunchbull and her Food Service Professionals and hand it over to Simon.

“DO NOT forget to take this to the office in the morning!” says we.

“What is it for?” asks he.

“It’s lunch money”

…

…..

“What…is lunch money?” he inquires.

“What do you mean ‘WHAT is lunch money?’

It’s money so you can eat lunch!”

…

…..

“Oh…you mean…we have to PAY to be fed?”

…awkward silence followed by boisterous expressions of amusement…

He wanders off, shaking his head, bemused by this new doozy of a concept.

So, there you have it.

The little beggar had no clue.

Jude has had a rocky relationship with his locker since the first day of this school year.

So far he has:

-been late to class

-been cited for loitering in the halls between classes

-missed lunch

-missed recess

-nearly been locked in the school for the night

-and very nearly been institutionalized for hysterical and unexplained behaviors including aggravated locker violence…

-all resulting from his severe deficiency in human/locker relations.

It’s been rough on them both.

But, fear not, Grasshopper.

Something wonderful- something magical and miraculous has occurred.

They have found each other.

The following is Jude’s declaration of self discovery and elation:

“I have finally figured out that if I stroke my locker just right before I put in the combination it almost ALWAYS opens!”

And, so it was that the magical boy and the vicious locker melded hearts and minds alike.

And, they both lived happily ever after…

…or DID they?

How ADORABLE are these?

And, don’t even get me started on these-

or these-

Stunning, right?

Do they have Margot written all over them or what?

Check these little beauties out-

HERE

-sigh-

It has been-

15 years, 10 months, 12 days

or

828 weeks

or

5,797 days

or

139,128 hours

or

8,347,680 minutes

or

500,860,900 seconds

since that moment on the bus…

and the clock keeps ticking.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Rex.

And, thank you for making every second-

of every minute-

of every hour-

of EVERY day…

so very special.

Yours forever,

Nettalien

These were the sing-song words of Simon this evening as he danced around the house in the likeness of a slaphappy leprechaun.

Bear in mind that Sundays are normally the day of darkness and despair in the narrative of Simon’s life. The ritual begins first thing on Saturday morning:

“Is tomorrow…gulp…

(dry heave, dramatic eye rolling, heavy sigh)

SUN-DAY?!”

“Do I HAVE to go to church? I HATE church! It’s too long, it’s boring and there’s NOTHING TO EAT!”

-followed by an hourly reminder that if we make him go to church he will NOT like it and parents who love their children do not subject them to the horrors of things like SUN-DAY!

…for 24 hours…

Needless to say I am intrigued by tonight’s exuberant declaration.

“What made this Sunday better than the rest?” ask I…

“Well, first of all, they LIKED me at church because I behaved myself!”

Ah, yes- we’re off to a good start.

“Second of all, they even called me to play one of the games during singing time because they liked me SO much!”

…getting better…

“Third of all, I got to play video games when I got home from church because I was SO good!”

…yes, of course…

“And fourth of all- now this is the BEST part-

I got to have this AMAZING wave in my hair again!”

(exaggerated wave-like hand gesture, more leprechaun dancing)

This is the stuff of dreams I tell you.

The boy likes to look gooooood.

Call it what you will. I call it progress.