making sense of shattered dreams

We went to the Orlando temple for the last time. The sky was beautiful and strange. It matched my mood, like it frequently does. It was just a little bit overcast, so that you knew the sun was shining brightly, there was just a little bit of gloominess to it.

But the sky cleared up before we left, just like it always does.

And then I was sitting outside barefoot and some ladies walked by, looked at my feet and said "I'm surprised you didn't just put them in the fountain!". I refrained from standing up and punching them in the face. But they had a point. The fountains did look nice and refreshing.

When we got back from the temple the ladies went to American Eagle and the boys went to Taco Bell and Jada and I took webcam pictures and called each other from opposite ends of the house.

I had an opportunity to play the piano, oh how I love those black and white keys. I love the expression that goes into music and how I can make the same song sound either happy or sad. Because songs should be able to represent either emotion.

That night Jace and I went for a long run (in which we got separated and terribly lost) followed by a delectable dinner. It was colorful and delicious, a good standard for anything, in my opinion.

We had the first of many mini celebrations for Jace's birthday. More on that later when I acquire copies of the pictures of the event.

Domino and I hung out outside some more, to avoid cat bullying and cat allergies, respectively. Except I didn't do a very good job. My eyes looked like this a lot:

See how I look like I'm tired/I just woke up? Well I didn't just wake up. This is severe cat allergies meets really clean family with a side of drugs. It is not fun.

Everyone had an awful night that night, due to domino needing to vocalize the apprehension we all felt. I took him out around 5:30 just to shut him up. [I really need to start sleeping more…] my iPod was stuck, so I had to listen to the same nine songs the whole time. I started to have a little bit of sympathy for the boys who were already sick of hearing our theme song.
We ran around the community for a while until we’d explored it all and wanted to go further. But the gate was locked, and there was no pedestrian entrance. I decided to go underneath it, through the two foot gap at the bottom. Domino had no trouble getting through; he just ducked his head and trotted under. I, on the other hand, discovered that it wasn’t as much space as I thought it was. I was on my hands and knees trying to crawl under, holding the leash on one hand and my iPod in the other. I was trying to get through, worrying that a car would try to come through the gate and kill me, when domino ran out of patience. He started running, yanking on the leash and pulling my hands out from under me, causing me to land on my face and scrape my face. I’m sure if a car had been there, the driver would have had a good laugh.
It was a beautiful morning. It was a little foggy and overcast and the sky was slow to light up. Domino and I explored, running through every community and down every sidewalk, stopping at every tree. We came back and sat on the porch while I read and watched the sunrise and he barked at every living thing that passed and then fell asleep.

When he’s content he likes to put out his paw like he’s shaking hands. Except that he doesn’t shake hands. He just wants his paw to rest on you. He also likes to dig holes at the speed of lightning and then bury things in them...with his nose.
Just some things I want to remember if he dies or runs away or something.
Okay so now that I feel like my entire blog is about my dog, I’m going to move on.
The boys woke the kids up with whipped cream…on their faces.

They did not enjoy it.

Kenyan and Aria got ready for the day.

Then we were loading up the car and checking around the house to make sure we hadn’t left iPods or shoes or phone chargers (mine is still in Florida…)
Everyone had a short bust of energy causing aria to steal my shoes and everyone else to chase her down the stairs and out the door, sprinting down the street (much to the delight of the garbage men, who contributed by honking). And then there were some brown paper bags that represented our thousandth miracle, and our car was packed to the brim with pillows, children, and food and we left.
The hyperness wore off.

I love the flat landscape of Florida, how everything is broad and open—no need to question or trust, you can just see. There aren’t any secrets, nothing hidden. There are simple wide grey roads with spiraling off ramps, fields of green (hi, I’m secretly Ray Charles), endless stretches of blue sky, palm trees growing close enough for shade but sparse enough for clear vision.
So I sat there in the passenger seat feeling the heat of the sun coming through the window fighting the freezing air conditioning and getting sentimental about all the
We drove further in the wrong direction, looking at the mobile homes of central Florida intermittently stuck between lakes and farms, a scene that’s quaint and charming in its own kind of way. Things that are the essence of Florida, things that won’t be the same anywhere else. Things that we should have noticed sooner, things that we’re going to miss.

[Title from We Are Pilots by Shiny Toy Guns]

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