Category: Family Time

Some good memories from December

We visited Temple Square on one of the warmest December nights we have known. We were able to listen to the Nativity narration outdoors and noticed for the first time that there is a star mounted on top of the Tabernacle. We had just fed the missionaries dinner before we came, and their message was to “Look up!” Amen.
Timothy and I played a medley of German Christmas carols at church and for family. He is a great pianist and accompanist.
Timothy got his license.
We had a birthday party for Tim and my parents came.
Mark made raspberry jam for his dad’s Christmas present. 😍
I shopped for stuffed animals. The giraffe!
Christmas morning fun

We were able to do a video call with Daniel and we didn’t need all of those questions we planned to ask. He talked non-stop, with enthusiasm, zeal, and happiness pouring forth. I didn’t know how much I needed to just see him and hear him speak. I didn’t take a picture of the screen, but imagine light, clothed in the Christmas tie that I was told he probably wouldn’t receive in the mail, a short haircut, sunburned neck, and speaking a mixture of Spanish and English, really fast. That was Daniel. Nothing sad about that.

Paige is with us, and moves from her room, where she is catching up on some reading, to the piano, every few hours throughout the day. Chopin, Debussy, and Jane Austen scores are now in the mix played on our piano. She is all things lovely.

The Season of Expectation

These pictures are my favorites from the week. We had a lovely time hearing Tim’s concerts and doing Christmas things.

At the beginning of the week, instead of filling my to do lists, I purposely left big gaps for rest. I was a little bit successful, considering it is the season of expectation. I find that Richard and the boys are clinging to traditions a little more this year. “When are we going to bake…,” and, “What Christmas movie will we watch tonight?” Maybe it helps fill in the holes in our family.

Less

This week is music week for our family. We didn’t plan it that way, but there are concerts, lessons, and practice every evening. Christmas carols adorn the air, employ our hands, and fill our souls. With this accompaniment, I find I need less to be whole. This particular season has reminded me that my quest for knowledge and excellence is a little misguided. Alone, these things do not fill me. In fact, I require very little to be truly happy. Family, talking with friends, music, private service and devotion, warm meals, and light are simple needs. I make things too complicated sometimes.

Spring Lake Thanksgiving


New rock walls under rain showed their deeper colors and cleaner surfaces, and with a backdrop of new spruce trees and freshly gathered leaves, vintage decor reminded us of loved ones now gone. Little feet ran to familiar haunts as small hands appeared from below, reaching for good bites to eat. Men discussed the carving of the birds as women finished whipping potatoes and set out fruit and rolls. A cousin confessed she had been looking forward to eating this pie for weeks. Quiet readers emerged from the corners to fill plates before retreating again, and tween cousins, too full after appetizers, chose the smallest portions. Each in turn, we named something we are thankful for. I heard myself say with a cheer and hands held high, “I am thankful for a missionary!” There were quiet declarations and strong, and all were sincere. And just like that, the meal was over, the many hours of labor, consumed in minutes. This year, we didn’t wait to serve the pies.

While parents slept, Grandma gathered children for gingerbread house decorating. And the Christmas season began.

Dark so early, we slowed down as the sun sank and we watched Charlie Brown Mayflower Voyagers and snickered through Snowball Express. This year, we delayed watching White Christmas and visited instead. As we should.

This year, we stayed two nights, cuddled under handmade quilts and fleece blankets, without alarm clocks. Blessed rest.

Home again, the busy task of decorating began, one box, one string of lights after another, until the house was full of cheer. And thoughts of Daniel were everywhere, in the ornaments, the food, and the music. Tears are not incompatible with joy. Tim took an early morning drive in the first snow with a driving instructor, and I mailed my last Christmas package as the post office opened. But mostly, we stayed home, feeling peaceful and bright.

Boulders, a Wedding Crasher, Pimpernel, and White Gloves

A month and a half ago, the mudslide at Spring Lake looked like this. But after more rain, it became clear that this mud was also full of boulders and rocks. My dad is a master with rock walls. The mountain couldn’t have gifted these to a better recipient.

(The family has been trying to dig out trees from the mud to save them.)

 

While the men and boys worked on the dirt and rock project, I organized the library at my parents’ house. The Sanchez family is a family of builders, minus me. I just like to be zen and organize decor.

I crashed a wedding gathering this week so I could see Paige as a bridesmaid at the Salt Lake temple. I sat in the sun on a bench on the south side of the temple, warm and bright, and couldn’t imagine anything I would rather be doing. I didn’t take any photos of the wedding party because I wanted the moment for myself. Plus, I shouldn’t have been there. The less evidence the better.

A friend took me to see this play this week and we ate Peppermint Crunch Junior Mints. Delightful. Except I can’t erase the guillotine scenes from my mind. HOW did they do that?

Mark had a band concert this week and Tim was a guest artist since they needed trombones. Ha! He and his two friends sat at least a head taller than the middle school kids. But he had his own dressing room with pizza. Mark has taken to wearing white gloves when he plays his trumpet. He is pretty dapper sometimes.

Catching up

Mark was honored as an Eastmont Patriot of the Month for citizenship, leadership, scholarship, and extra-curricular activities. Woot!

I helped make this quilt for a new baby in the neighborhood.

Every conversation at our house includes a status update on my massive painting project and Richard’s apple harvest. I stopped counting gallons of paint, but Richard knows exactly how many pounds of apples were produced.

Court of Honor

Missionary

BYU Homecoming Spectacular 3rd row seats. Awesome!

It’s Inktober for Paige on Instagram.

ONE page of a piece Timothy is working on. Legit!

Did I mention I am painting a lot? It feels like our house is finally becoming our own. I waited a long time to paint because I knew what a big job it would be and I didn’t have the time. So far, I have spent about 17 full days on it. I have not had this kind of time…ever in my life to devote to such a project. Someday I might post “after” pictures, but you could also come and visit.

Bests

The best evenings are Utah summer evenings, and after hot, smoky days, the sunsets burn ribbons of orange and red across the horizon. Just as we have adjusted to a slower pace after the frenzied weeks of travel, missionary preparations, and goodbyes, this week ushers in busy school life. I feel nothing about the school year. It just is. Today as we drove up Little Cottonwood Canyon to piano lessons, there were leaves on the hill which have lost some of their verdure. We wonder, will the autumn colors be more or less brilliant after this dry summer?

Today is Paige’s twenty-second birthday, and I am on my second attempt at a three-layer cake. The first three layers sit in the trash. I remember the effort for her first cake and my skills are still shaky for her twenty-second cake. My best girl. She is here for a few weeks as she shuffles her plans for housing.

We accomplished a lot this summer, and by we, I mean the kids. There was Paige’s internship in New York and Daniel’s mission, but here’s a shout-out for Timothy who finished drivers ed and Mark who learned to swim properly. Here’s a shout-out for the books we read, the conservative documentaries Timothy and Richard viewed, and all the water in which we have dipped our toes. Our necks craned to see the tops of Redwood trees and skyscrapers. We stopped on the sides of streams to throw rocks and sketch. We boated, biked, hiked, climbed, drove, and swam through this summer. We entered holy temples more often than usual. Summer of 2018 has been one of our best. It’s like we lived the lyrics of This Land is Your Land.

 

 

Payson temple

We decided to attend the temple as a family, all six of us at the same time. My parents came with us and we did ordinances for some particularly dear family members who are deceased. Some spent time in the baptistry. Mark had names he had discovered himself at the family history library plus one other special name we have been waiting for permission to do. Others spent time in a session. Daniel and Richard carried names Daniel found when he was twelve years old. It was an especially sweet day at the Payson temple. The name cards had been well-traveled, with some ordinances in Arizona, others in Draper, and now Payson. I was really affected by the experience and I was glad that I still had tissues in my pocket from a different day in the temple. I wish we had taken a picture, but we got separated and things were a little hectic getting there. My mom figured we had some challenges getting to the temple because it was the right thing to do. Amen.