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The recent past was a relatively busy period, and much of what happened escaped documentation in these pages. So, this letter revisits some old, but unpublished, news. Mylinda, et. al. came to visit and stayed a week or so.

I enjoyed her visit and, while I hesitate to put words in her mouth, Barbara gave indications of also enjoying it. Carson and Lauren (Ok Mylinda, I attempted to correct the spelling), like most kids, are really cute in those rare moments when they are asleep. When they are not asleep they, like most kids, have more energy than a bevy of nuclear reactors and cheerfully function as agents of entropy.

Mylinda has been working on civilizing her oldest child, and teaching her proper etiquette for the use of a fork.

When Lauren arrived, she almost had it mastered.

But Grandpa is all about efficiency, so he taught Lauren a faster and easier way. Surprisingly, Mylinda wasn't all that impressed...

We really didn't do much while Mylinda was here, with the exception of one day when she and I (and Carson) drove down to Patagonia. The town is exactly the same, and at the same time totally different. Our old house is still then, and looks about the same, but it is no longer "home." In fact, Patagonia is no longer "home."

Mylinda was reminiscing about Grandma LeFevre taking them to the park where there was a train with plastic cars where children could play. I didn't remember any such thing, and it wasn't until we were leaving town that we ran across it. It was just like Mylinda described. So much for my memory.

Lauren likes water. Grandma enjoys giving her grandchildren what-so-ever they desire, so baths happened with some frequency. I suppose that is not necessarily a bad thing.

As far as I can tell, Carson has yet to express a definite opinion about anything, but he did seemed to enjoy bathing.

Grandmas beads were also a favorite. I don't know if they are responding to subtile adult pressures, if I am imagining things, or if it is a real phenomena, but granddaughters seem to have more proclivity to decorate themselves than do grandsons. Am I wrong?

In addition to his red hair, Carson also has red eyebrows. Either that, or Mylinda has introduced him to hair dye at a fairly early age...

If it seems like my communications are less offensive lately, it is because I have acquire an editor. It may also seem like they take longer to appear, but that is only a figment of your imagination.

In an unrelated event, I was maneuvered into giving a talk about dutch oven cooking at a ward social gathering. Present were members who are much more experienced in this particular art, but I guess they have also learned to say, "no" in a more unequivocal manner. At any rate, I babbled on about heat transfer (conduction vs. convection vs. radiation) and then applied it to cast iron cookware. This was just a talk, and I suspect an actual demonstration would have been more instructive. I know it would have been more fun.

One of Barbara's cats is especially long haired, and sheds with reckless abandon. Further, every spring, matted fur clumps (for want of a proper scientific term) adorn her pelt. The other day, Barbara held her down, and hacked off most of her long hair. It took a week, but the cat finally forgave Barbara. At this point, we have one funny looking beast roaming our domicile. Unfortunately, that long fur will all grow back. I wonder what electrolysis would cost...

And speaking of funny looking adornments, Andrea sent this image of her in chemical warfare gear. Some Muslim sects require women to wear burkas, but that is nothing compared to the USAF.

We also attended the Allen Family Reunion, the weekend of June 5th. Barbara went primarily to get score some grandchildren time.

As is evidenced by these images, she was moderately successful in her quest.

Grandchildren like attention and grandmothers like grandchildren. It is definitely a win/win situation.

I actually had a hard time tearing her loose when it was time to go.

I am always impressed at how proficient children become in manipulating those around them. It is obvious that parents try to "influence" (with varying degrees of success) their children, but what is not so evident to parents, is how much influence children wield.

Here, Kylie is pretending to sleep, next to her father (who wasn't pretending at all).

And who could turn down a request to be held presented with this distressed continence?

And see, Mom, I am taking good care of my brother (never mind the fact that he is still bleed from where I bit him...).

Sabrina made fun of my hat. Actually, it didn't work as well as I had wanted. I much preferred the blue thing that I used to have, but it blew away. If I had not been there, I wouldn't have believed it, but a gust of wind took it off my head, and by the time I stopped (which wasn't long as I was riding against the wind) the hat was simply no where to be seen. This happened just west of the court house in San Manuel. I walked up and down both sides of the road, but to no avail. Some bird somewhere must be wearing very stylish head gear.

I wanted a hat with a brim that would keep the sun off my head while I ride. To accomplish that, the brim needs to circumvent the hat. This one does, but was floppy enough that at any speed greater than 10 mph, the front of the brim came up against my forehead, leaving my nose to shine in the sunlight. The brim has a wire stiffener around its edge and hopefully, storing it with the sides snapped up will force the front to bend down, and convince it to stay there.

Abby has apparently inherited her great grandmothers love of rocks (who would have thought that was a genetic trait). She collected quite a few at the reunion. The area around Woodruff is a good place to find petrified wood. Maybe she will eventually grow into someone who want to take my rock tumbling stuff. You go girl.

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