The Day the Javelina's Ate My Pumpkins

As you know, I love autumn.

I love the changing colors, the cooling temperature, the early sunsets and darker mornings. I love seeing my breath in the dark air while roasting marshmallows around a fire. I love snuggling close with my man over an episode of Parenthood. I love eating candy corn (until I feel sick) and making many warm, delicious meals (tonight was tortilla soup...not the best. We'll forget that one happened. Sorry, babe.)

 

This morning when I opened our front door to let in a cool breeze and a little sunlight I discovered my two pumpkins I JUST bought on Sunday were GONE! It was as if they were never there. Looking closer I found tiny remnants. I quickly ruled out teenagers (they would have left behind something) and that meant it could only be an animal. Javelina's. Arizona's squirrel, if you will. They come to destroy and be a pest. Annnd eat pumpkins. My 3.98 pumpkins, too. In Scottsdale it was too hot to leave pumpkins outside and here it's too dangerous to leave them outside. I think I will put them outside 8am-7pm and then bring them to the garage, kiss them goodnight and keep them safe. Just kidding, of course.

this is all that remained of my pumpkins

I got my Canon Rebel back. It had been 2 weeks. It's like reuniting with an old friend. It's fun, but different. It takes a few days to find the groove and be yourself. 

Jack had Cougan over for a little while today. It was delightful. The whole way to our house they sat in the back seat giggling at each other. So, so precious. 


By the way, my screen is seriously broken on our door there. How does one fix that?


I have so many pictures to share, so much I want to capture and create to be set as memories for Jack to sift through when we're old and aging. That reminds me...

Last night on the drive home John and I were talking about the strange reality that we will most likely be alive when our parents pass away. My mom is already concerned about "what will happened when..." and trying to plan ahead. But, how do you plan ahead for something that is so beautiful and natural, yet so painful? How do you plan ahead in the reality that you might not being able to care for yourself anymore? When you can't remember where you put your shoes, car keys, or if you ate your breakfast or took your medicine? How can you plan for that? While we were driving I let it really sink in to my brain for a brief moment. I let the thought take off it's shoes and settle deep into the lazyboy of my brain (maybe I'm the only one who doesn't think about this sort of thing on a daily basis.) and it was a startling reality. Honestly, if I think about it too long the whole thing freaks me out.

I haven't lost a lot of loved ones in my life. John has experienced losing both of his grandparents and his great aunt. Both sets of my grandparents are still alive and I'm not sure how it will be when they pass away. My heart rejoices with them because they will get to meet face to face with their Savior, but the pain that will reach my parent's hearts goes deeper than my pain. I'm sure it's a different kind of pain. The truth that it will one day be my parents who I'll have to say goodbye to is a very scary and shaking fact.


As the moment passed on our drive home I decided to settle into the present and the time I do have with them. We're not meant to live forever, and this moment isn't forever (however blissful it may be.) It's meant to end and we're meant to grow older and one day pass away. I'll focus on today. On enjoying and loving them for as long as God wills it.