Dang the Torpedos

I am hoping that the month of weirdness is finally over. Not that it happened in just a month. And not that it was ALL weird. I want to share the pictures of these events, and I intend to do so over the next few days—with pithy commentary. But all of that takes time, which I now have – except that I have to catch up everything that got filed in the “maybe later” drawer until the chaos ebbed.

So here I am to tell you that I thought of a million starts to new essays, only to have them swallowed up in the impact of the moment, and now I am left cleverless.

Murphy is gone. He was placed in the advanced level of training once he hit the MTC (missionary training center). This is actually a brag; when people around here ask if you speak Spanish, and you say to them, “I took three years in high school,” they will reply, “Oh. So you don’t speak any.” But Murphy has a gift for language – mostly, I think, because he wants it. He loves people, and won’t stand on his side of any fence – and if that means learning ancient Turkish, so be it.

I will post one picture with this. Then I will try to get through the trenches of the last many weeks. I have to smile (wry smile) here, though – I’m just assuming my dear fam and friends are aching to see all this stuff. I never made this bl—g for public consumption, only for the folks who care about us and find me at least mildly amusing. Here’s hoping for at least the latter –

Uncle M thinks he can smuggle the Scooter along—but Argentina is too far away from Mama…