A Good Day

The kids and dad and I went to Vala's yesterday, following after one of our fall traditions.  The only way I can possibly describe Vala's is there's an episode of "Little People, Big World" that I saw years ago (when we had cable) that showed off the Roloff family's pumpkin farm.  It's basically Disneyland on a small scale.  We spent the morning enjoying the beautiful fall weather, taking a hayrack ride to wander around the pumpkins, watch the pumkin chucking cannon, ride on the peddle cars (I sure love those, my dad thought they were great fun too), ride the 2 story tube-slide, and play in the corn box.  CORN BOX?  Yes, that's what I said.  Some little kids play in a sandbox, but in Nebraska it's a corn box!:)  I hadn't seen this thing in previous year's trips to Vala's, but they had this giant box of corn, similar to a sandbox or even one of those playbox things that have the big plastic balls that you play in?  Well this whole thing was full of giant corn kernels.  I'm not exactly sure if that's what "feed corn" is (and maybe I should know that after all these years in NE!) but I think that's what they were playing in.  All I know is that Justin and Spencer had fun while Carson napped.  I was worried about Spencer getting stepped on, ewww, what a thought, but we kept the boys away from the other kids and they were able to enjoy nonetheless.  We picked out a couple of pumpkins and took them home, it was great.

The weather has been beautiful, so perfect.  And all the leaves are so pretty.  I love having seasons out here.  It's been a long time now, but I don't remember having quite as vivid of seasons in Fresno.  I think 'Fall' kind of happens over a week period of time.  I love my neighbor's beautiful maple tree--the red and orange leaves are always a treat to watch out my living room window every year.

While we were on the hayrack ride I asked Justin why he thinks Heavenly Father made pumpkins.  I loved his smirky laugh as he covered his mouth and laughed about such a thought.  I asked if Heavenly Father made them just so we can carve pumkins at Halloween, or if he thinks that they're especially for pumpkin bread and pumpkin pie eating?  He seemed stumped by my question and then said (to my utter shock), "pumpkin bread, what's THAT?"  I don't know how he could forget the fact that I always make Linda Garduno's famous pumpkin bread recipe in the fall...but more so that he had forgotten that we just made pumpkin bread a couple weeks ago with Grandma Malan here.  I think he probably doesn't associate a big orange pumpkin as the same as pumkin from a can.  But I was amused that he was amused.

Spencer is getting faster all the time.  He walks with a very visible limp and it still breaks my heart.  I always wonder if he's going to wake up some morning and walk "normal."  But it doesn't seem to be.  His worse leg is now so much shorter due to the nature of the terribly fracture and the way they had to surgically correct it. They don't know how he's going to progress, but I imagine that he'll likely have to have additional surgery to correct it, in addition to the surgery to take out the metal rods.  Spencer asks me some days, "Does the metal in my legs make me walk?" to which I have to reply yes.

We went on a train ride at Vala's yesterday (a 3/4 mile ride around the Vala's property).  While we were waiting in line, Spencer started...talking to the cute little old men train workers.  And as only Spencer can babble, he started saying, "I got my cast off my legs so I can walk now."  And then the little old guy looked at me quizzically....I was SO hoping that he would just smile at the little boy giving him crazy talk, but no.  He asked Spencer if he had broken his leg, and then looks at me and says "legs?"  And then it started again.  I had to say the only phrase that makes the most sense to people anymore, I've learned that if I don't just blurt it all out that people don't process it--"His dad was killed by a drunk driver two months ago and he was in the car and was injured too."  The one older gentleman looked at me with knowing eyes instantly recognizing who we are, and the other man clearly hadn't heard of us in the news and made mention of the 4 motorcyclists coming back from Sturgis killed by a drunk driver days before before Adam.  I hate telling it over and over.  It really is an odd thing for people to hear.  It's even more odd that I have to say it.

I was reading in my giant stack of books from MADD last night from a book that I had overlooked, or maybe just set aside initially.  It talks about "how" I should go about telling my story.  Most of it seems pretty right on in how to make the most impact with people when I will go about doing public speaking.  One thing I found most interesting in the book was not to call the crash an "accident" but to refer to it as a "crash" or a "collision."  I found this to be an interesting perspective.  An "accident" makes it sound like this was simply that--an accident.  But with someone choosing to drink, choosing to get in the car, choosing to put the keys in it and choosing to drive it head on into my husband, IT IS NOT an accident.  This is something I'll think about in how I refer to this new life--"life before the crash, and life since the crash."

But yesterday was a good day, a tiring day, but good one.  I went to a Relief Society meeting and made a cute pumpkin craft, visited with friends, ate some pumpkin pie and learned some more about pie crust making.  I went to the dreaded 'mart and shopped after that while my dad watched the kiddos.  It was SO nice to go without the kids; it's going to be tough doing grocery shopping with two kids in the cart and one kid wandering around.  I'm definitely going to miss Adam each week that I go shopping in the future.  I'll especially miss him emptying out the groceries from my car when I come home.  There's a reason I married a man with nice big muscles.  Dangit.  I miss my Adam.