I cashed in my birthday gift certificate at the Northland Nursery, and planted some new perennials in the bed around the pines.

For future reference:
Euonymus fortunei 'Emerald 'n Gold'
Echniacea purpurea 'Magnus'
Phlox paniculata 'Bartwelve'
Vinca minor
Leucanthemum maximum 'Broadway Lights'

It's so hard to run with this sombrero on my head type with all these blisters on my hands.

I pulled the remaining brush from the pine bed this afternoon.  Because I had nothing better to do?  No.  But if I didn't do it now, when would it get done?  Such a nice, accomplish-y feeling, but my hands don't share my soul's sense of satisfaction.

If this was a red letter day on the calendar, it would be Waiting in Line Day.  We waited in line for Costco to open, then waited in line to buy Bri's ticket.  We waited in line to park, and I got my ticket (hooray for Toyota Tuesdays!).  We waited in line to enter the courtyard, then waited in line for the park to open.

There was no line for Panic Plunge, so Bri walked on to the first ride of the day:

We got to ride each major coaster once without waiting before the big crowds showed up:

The highest intensity ride at Silverwood is Aftershock:

Bri was buckled in, the ride attendants were making their final safety checks, and... she asked to get off.  Later, she was in line five minutes before walking away.  Third time's a charm, though.  She did it, and loved it:

All that waiting in line was worth it.  We had a great day, and met many delightful people -- a surprising lot of them from Canada.

We rode the front car of Timber Terror, we rode the front two seats of Aftershock, we were drenched more than once on Thunder Canyon.  Best ride?  Tremors, last run of the day.  In the dark.  Yow!

Molley came over.  Drawing, talking gardening, etc.  Finished trimming and painting the playhouse.

Hayden Bible Church organizes their communion in a baptist-y way, with the wafers and the itty bitty disposable cups, which is a change from our familiar Community Fellowship way of breaking one bread and dipping it into one cup.  As we sat holding the bread, Kendric whispered to me, "You don't have to tell me when it's time to eat it.  I already know."  Then, holding the little cup of grape juice, he told me, "Even if this was really wine, I'd still be allowed to drink it."

It has become almost customary to trade children with the Goodmans after church.  This time Myra went home with Natalie, Brett came home with Kendric.  A miserably hot afternoon; we mostly did our best to Not Move.  Kirby took a nap, the boys watched a movie, I brought Mari to town for a haircut.

Mari has been asking for an easy care hair cut.  I've put it off, probably subconsciously hoping she'd change her mind -- her long, sleek, shiny hair is so pretty!  It is thick, though, hard to rinse and comb.  I finally agreed, but I let a professional do it:

The pastor and his wife host an annual Ice Cream Social at their home in Athol.  Volleyball, horseshoes, bounce house, campfire:

The kids sang "quiet" songs in the car on the way home.  Feeling sneaky, I managed to record video with Bri's camera.  What a disappointment to get home and find that all it really picked up is the sound of the car engine.  Ha.

Mari, Bri and I tacked lath to the sides of the playhouse to make it look like board and batten siding.  We finished the west side just as the sun began to peek around the corner.  The north side, with its roof angles, was time consuming, but we had it finished in time to avoid the sun.  With no angles, no windows, the east side went quickly -- and I got smart; I cut seven inch spacers instead of holding up the measuring tape every time we nailed.  Kirby returned from work when we were halfway done with the south side.  By then, the sun was low enough that the porch roof wasn't offering much shade, so we gladly accepted his offer to go swimming.

Bri jumps from The Middle Cliff almost casually.  She decided to walk to the top of The Big Cliff, just to see it.  People on our side of the river were yelling, "Do it!  Jump!"  Kirby jumped so she could see where he landed, etc.  She hollered, "Should I do it, Mom?"
"You don't have to.  If you feel confident about it, I think you can."
After several countdowns, she jumped:

Quite the holler went up from the opposite shore, and from several rafters who had paused to see if she'd do it.  She landed at a slight angle, though, which knocked the wind out of her.  She has no desire to jump it again.  Whew.

Cyndi and I went to Silverwood.  Alone.  No kids, no husbands.  Yes, bizarre.

Perhaps even more bizarre is the fact that after years of standing on the sidelines with small children, we'd both forgotten how to ride roller coasters.  I remember Tremors being a fairly easy ride.  Not today.  I guess I've been off of adrenaline so long, even low doses are super powerful.  Whoo!

Logan's birthday party: