The knitting entirely eluded me so far today. It just… I mean…
My mother-in-law grew up on a dairy farm in the mountains beyond Salt Lake City; her dad, who was also the high school principal, retired by changing it to a cattle ranch.
My husband’s folks drove cross country several summers of his growing up for the kids to help out on the farm and have some of the experiences and chores their mother thought an essential part of their growing up–and she wanted them to know their Utah cousins well.
I got to know them a little, too, the first few years we were married, though in the last few decades it’s all been at weddings or funerals.
One of them married and raised a son with Tim Birt.
I found myself nodding my head at the descriptions of what a nice person their son was; he sounds just like his mom.
Richard showed me the message she’d sent to his phone this morning.
A “well regulated militia” is not crazy people in the middle of the night waving guns at strangers who want to help.
The Zoom funeral is Saturday.