Yesterday was quite a birthday, one I think I'll remember for a long, long time.
After I returned from Curves, Rob was already gone. He had a three-day seminar in SLC. He'd left me two eggs on a plate and a note indicating there were tater tots in the toaster oven. Pretty nice!
Just before 8, while I was still in my exercise clothes and headed for the shower, I heard a knock on the door. I opened the door and was more than a little surprised to see two Lindon City policemen standing on the doorstep. They had arrived in separate vehicles. My first thought was that something awful had happened to Rob. They introduced themselves, and I noticed that one was carrying a plastic grocery bag. He asked if I was Eloise. For a brief second I considered denying my identity. I wondered what I had done wrong and reflected very quickly on events of the past week. I don't even have an overdue library book, and as far as I know, I've parked only in designated places in past weeks. He handed me the bag, wished me a happy birthday, and indicated that the contents of the bag were from none other than Kaye Palmer (like I couldn't have guessed!). My heart rate was considerably faster than it had been at Curves and didn't slow down for quite a while. I almost said, "I'm going to kill her," but considered the audience and thought better of it. The bag contained, of course, the stupid squash book we've been passing back and forth in creative ways for a very long time now. Just minutes later, Kaye herself showed up. I raised my hands in surrender and acknowledged that I'm out of my league. She laughed and said she could pay me back for years to come for what happened on her birthday. Hey, is it my fault her birthday falls on National Sneak Zucchini onto Your Neighbor's Porch Day? And can I help it if I think it's my duty to inform her neighbors of that remarkable coincidence? And so, the Zucchini War lives on, and on, and on, and on.

I've Got the Whole World in My Hands

On Thursday I tended grandsons Tyler and Logan. Granddaughters Ryann and Lucy came too, as did their mother. For the first time in what seems like forever, we went outside to the swings and trampoline. The kids acted like they'd been let out of a cage (as did Mom and Grandma). Two-and-a-half year old Logan sang, "I've got the whole world in my hands, I've got the whole world in my hands" every time he was pushed "high to the sky." It was such a dear thing!
This morning I had a really scary phone call. My brother-in-law called on a cell phone saying Rob's dad had disappeared. His car was out by the mailbox with the lights on. They saw it on their way to church and assumed he'd gone back inside for something he'd forgotten. But he didn't show up at church. So, they went to look for him. He was nowhere to be found. Lots of things went through my mind after the call, not the least of which being that I need to seriously get to work on transcribing cassette tapes he's recorded for his personal history. Fortunately, a few minutes later Rob's sister called to say they'd found him. He'd run out of gas, left his car by the mailbox, forgotten to turn off the lights, and gotten a ride with someone to a different ward he'd been planning on attending so he could hear friends speak. Rob's sister thought the meeting started at noon and was expecting him to attend his normal ward.
I attended a wonderful conference at the Zermatt in Midway on Friday and Saturday. Four colleagues at the library and I stayed with Ilene at her cabin a short distance away. We heard David Booth, a very funny expert on literacy; Christopher Paul Curtis, Patricia Reilly Giff, and Steven Jenkins, all award-winning authors and illustrators. We also heard a first-class storyteller on Friday night before bed. I never cease to have that jaw-dropping feeling of awe to be in the presence of such celebrities! (I know I'm a big nerd for having such thoughts. That's okay; I like being a nerd and being around other nerds!)
Because we were at the conference, we missed Jimmer's 52-point performance Friday night. We watched the SDSU game last night. Sad, but not as sad as the New Mexico game right after Brandon Davies' suspension. It has been a season of highs and lows. What fun it has been to attend most of the home games and watch most of the others with my dear friend Ilene. Thanks for the memories, Jimmer and your supporting cast!

More Zucchini Escapades

As I was working in the garden the other morning, I excitedly noticed two very red tomatoes and reached down to pick them up. To my dismay, I picked up instead a huge zucchini with two red tomatoes painted on it. I stood in the garden and laughed until I was afraid our neighbors were going to call the little me in the nice white coats.
Of course, my first reaction was to blame Kaye Palmer (who wouldn't?), so I came inside and wrote her a poem. I was perplexed when she called to tell me my poetry had touched her deeply but that she had no idea what I was talking about. Was it Marta Adair? Nope, too busy. Amy Alvord reportedly has 15 hills of zucchini this year, but she's never been involved in the war before. Probably not. Amy Raun? Nope, definitely too busy. Slowly it began to dawn on me. Our very own daughter was obviously the culprit. I wrote an addendum to the poem and gave copies of both to Katy. She took great delight in having fooled me so completely. Here are the poems, both masterpieces:
I ran to my garden intent on deducing
Just how much my dear little plants were producing.
The beans looked all beany-y,
The cukes looked just great,
The beets did beat all,
And the carrots, first rate.
The onions were stinky,
The peppers quite hale,
Banana squash looking
Like orange beached whale.
Raspberries starting,
Pumpkins and corn;
Why even the melons
Can’t make me forlorn!
But, oh, for tomatoes
We surely do long.
The vines are good sized,
And the blossoms are strong.
The cherries produce little ones that are cute,
But we are just pining for giant red fruit!
I look down at my feet, delighted to spy
Two nice ripe tomatoes, bring tears to my eye.
I reach down to pick them and utter, “My gosh!”
It seems ripe tomatoes are really just squash.
If I go on too long my point I belabor,
We’ve been had again by our relentless dear neighbor!

Our neighbor denies it,
She says ‘twasn’t she.
Oh my, I’m embarrassed
Who else could it be?
I think and I think
‘Til my thinker’s in pain ,
Who coulda done this?
Who came up the lane?
And then I remember,
That fruit seemed so gallant;
There’s only one couple
Who has so much talent!
If only I’d seen,
If only I’d caught her;
This must have been done
By our darling daughter!
How could she have done this?
What made her act so?
We’ve raised her to love us
And not be our foe.
This war has created
So many a louse,
The squash must’ve come
From her red-headed spouse!