Four for Four

On Thursday, August 21, the fourth of my four nieces was born! Macy Claire weighed in at 6 lbs. 14 oz. and she's (of course) just beautiful. Enormous congrats to my sister, Amy, and her husband Dave. And I'm sure Jack is going to make an excellent big brother. I can't wait to meet her in person.

A Plethora of Cords

And I don't mean corduroys. I mean cords for connecting electronica. They are EVERYWHERE anymore, no? Charger cords, computer cords, plain old plugs--all with their own special purposes and special connectors. And at some time over the last few weeks I'd lost a very very important cord--the one that connects my camera to my computer. Thus the dearth of Hallstrom family photos on this here blog.

But joy! Today Forrest found my cord! It was entangled with the Singstar microphone cords (of course!!!) and stuffed in among all the PlayStation cordage. So hallelujah, we have pictures.

The first picture is one of Wyatt, which I've fondly titled "Guck!" (Meaning "stuck." It's one of his favorite new words, since he finds himself--or his beloved toys--"guck" multiple times a day.



I felt kinda bad about this one because I'd been in on my computer and I heard him wailing "Guck! Guck!" in the kitchen, and I assumed it was something inanimate that was stuck. Like a spatula he wanted to play with. (He loves spatulas). But no, it was Wyatt himself . . . and then I went and grabbed my camera and compounded the indignity of it all by taking his picture. He's a good sport.

The next photos are the obligatory kids-standing-by-a-tree-in-the-front-yard first day of school pictures. Ethan was not enthusiastic this year. We had to do it early, before anyone started gathering for the school bus. Do you think I can keep it up until he's a senior in high school??? Maybe not. But they're cute pictures nevertheless.





Ethan's first official day of school is tomorrow. Aaacckk! He had a 7th grade orientation "dry run" day on Thursday, where the 7th graders came from 7:30-11:30 and did a quick tour of the school and visited all their classes without those menacing upperclassmen present. Great idea, I think. Ethan enjoyed it and is looking forward to tomorrow. I hope all goes well!

Elise and Jonas are both enjoying their new classes and teachers. They come home smiley and tired. And Jonas was the student of the week in his class for the first week of school! Way to go, Joe.

And finally, here are pictures from the biggest event of the weekend, Forrest's first triathlon. He did it with my brother Tony and they both did a great job.


Good lookin men, ready to show the world how tough they are. And Forrest in a BYU shirt? I know, I know. He says it's comfortable.


The kids, scrambling on the rocks beside Jordanelle resevoir. You should have seen me scrambling down them. Graceful as a mountain goat.


Ready to swim. Kicky white cap. Sweet.


Tony, rising like a leviathan from the waters. (But not an evil, monster-like leviathan. A nice, seminary-teaching leviathan.)


Tony very helpfully wore a wetsuit with green on the arms, so it was easier to see him coming. Here he is on his way up the ramp to get his bike.


And here's Forrest looking wet and proud after kicking it in the swim portion. And he really did kick it.


Cindy and the Vivster on the road, waiting to catch sight of the menfolk racing by. I missed Forrest on his bike! Don't know how, but he must have zoomed by in a flash of black and red.


We caught him on the run, though. He was feeling good enough to flash us a peace sign, even though it was near the end of the race.


And here he is, crossing the finish line.


Two sweaty guys, carbo loading after a long, hot race.

It was a lot of fun to be there and cheer them on. And even though we had to walk about three miles in the heat, lugging blankets and coolers and lawn chairs, it was worth it.

So, photo update complete. Hopefully I'll keep better track of my cords from here on out.

Connected Through the Internet

Through the internet--blogging in particular--I have found myself part of a community that has strengthened and enriched my life. Segullah, in particular, has been a place where women of uncommon strength and wisdom and humor and insight can gather to lift each other up and share a portion of themselves.

Through Segullah, I became acquainted with a wonderful person (and fantastic blogger) named Courtney. I've linked to her blog on my sidebar because it's so good. I don't know her well, but I *feel* like I know her because I read her blog. (And yes, it was Courtney's review of my novel on her blog that was responsible for a the single largest number of my book's sales--more than reviews in Meridian Magazine or In Utah This Week or an article in the Salt Lake Tribune or a book signing at Women's Conference.)

This weekend, I read the news on Courtney's blog that her sister, Stephanie, and her husband Christian had been in a devastating plane crash. I'd checked out Stephanie's blog, The Nie Nie Chronicles, only a handful of times, but in even those few short visits I was so impressed with her sister's beauty and goodness and love of life. She's a young mother (only 27) of 4 children, ages 6,5,3 and 1. She and her husband were both severely burned in the accident--Stephanie was burned over 80% of her body--and are facing months and months of painful healing. The flight instructor piloting the plane died of his injuries.

So I post this here not because I know Stephanie. I hardly know Courtney, really. But I have been so touched by both of them through their blogs. There are literally thousands of people praying for this couple and their family, many of them because they got to know them through the internet. I'm sure a few prayers from some of us couldn't hurt. The internet can be a wonderful blessing for good.

7th Grade

So Ethan's headed there, in just a couple of weeks. He got his schedule yesterday. Band (beginning brass), honors English, pre-algebra, Utah Studies (remember Utah Studies? It seemed so important to me at the time, like my patriotic Utahn duty, and my spell checker just underlined Utahn which, as one, I KNOW is spelled correctly), gym, science, the whole shebang. He's excited. Called all his friends to see if they had any classes together (and some of them do, sigh of relief) and already has his locker combination memorized.

Here's what I remember about junior high. First, my dad took me to my junior high orientation for some reason. I wasn't alone with my dad very often, so roaming around the echoing halls of West Lake Junior High with my DAD made me feel incredibly grown-up and poised on the precipice of something monumental and scary and exciting. I also remember my friend Karen, one year older than me, telling me how important it was to 1. never, under ANY circumstances, pick up anything you drop on the ground, lest someone call you a scrounge and, 2. ALWAYS give upperclassmen the right of way in the halls. Not a good idea to mess with eighth graders.

In seventh grade I had a really cool English teacher named Ms. Shea who had long black hair past her butt and was a belly dancer on the weekends. We read Ishi, the Last of His Tribe and played word games like Boggle on Fridays. I had another really cool choir teacher, Miss Straussberg, who asked a terrified me to accompany the 7th Grade choir when we sang "Saturday's Warrior" for our concert. (Only in Utah. In the mid-80s. Never in a million years could a public school get away with singing that song now.) I remember practicing and practicing that song, pounding away--those opening chords are etched into my reptilian brain.

I ran for (and won, somehow--I wasn't particularly popular that year) the position of 7th Grade Class Secretary. Don't remember what that office entailed, just that I got my picture in the front of the yearbook. I was just on the cusp of puberty and hadn't quite figured out yet how to do my hair right, or wear mascara, and in my individual yearbook picture I have a smudge of Covergirl Greatlash under my right eye and my eighties bangs are curled but not sufficiently ratted or sprayed. I wore a purple sweater vest, I think.

I was afraid I smelled after gym. I was afraid I would forget my homework. I was afraid I'd make my elementary school friends mad if I didn't hang out with them, even if I was SO intrigued by the seemingly-coooler, more mature and worldy-wise friends from the more easterly region of West Valley City that I met in my classes. I still remember one girl named Jennifer who was so cool and smart and I wanted to be JUST LIKE HER. I even went so far as to buy a pair of Jordache jeans almost exactly like hers (but not quite exactly--didn't want her to think I was creepy or anything.) My first girl-emulation crush.

I tried out for the Junior High production of Annie and was crushed--CRUSHED, I tell you--to be relegated to the chorus. No speaking lines to, well, speak of. In the sixth grade, I'd played Nellie, Annie's little sister in Annie Get Your Gun at Cyprus HIGH SCHOOL, no less, and I figured with my wealth of experience, and obvious facility with the plaintive tune "Maybe" (" . . . their one mistake, was giving up meeeeeee . . ." oh, the pathos) that I'd be assured at least one of the sidekick orphan roles. But nope. No dice. Heartbreaking. I sighed and calumphed my way through the Annie experience as a member of the chorus, though, and in the end it was fun.

Seventh grade is a big dang deal. I think Ethan is ready, and I think he'll do great, but it's such a transition in a person's life. I'm looking forward to it for him (and keeping my fingers crossed!). What do YOU remember about 7th grade??

My Husband Looks Really Cool on a Wakeboard

We've been boating twice in the last 5 days. On Saturday, we went with some good friends, the Youngs, and their four boys to Rockport. Great company, lots of fun, choppy water. Then yesterday we went to East Canyon with Mindy and Peter. Great company, lots of fun, and smooth water.

Both times, it was fun to watch my better half out their jumping the wake, tooling around looking studly with his newly chiseled biceps and beefed-up quads. He's always been an impressive wakeboarder, but he's taking things to another level this year with his increased overall fitness. It will be fun to cheer him on as he crosses the finish line for his triathlons (shouldn't there be an "a" in that word, somewhere??).

One of the things I've always loved about Forrest (and admired, because I don't necessarily have this quality) is when he's interested in something, he goes after it wholeheartedly. He jumps in and does all he can to figure it out, learn the ropes, and eventually, usually, excel. I'm more of a dabbler, myself. I dip my toe, and sometimes my whole entire foot, into lots of different pools. So I end up doing lots of stuff kinda well. Whereas Forrest is usually pretty focused and does the one or two things he's focused on *really* well. As spontaneous as Forrest seems, he's actually pretty methodical, circling around a problem or a challenge for a while and sizing it up before he tackles it. I, on the other hand, tend to jump in and hope I figure things out as I go along. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't.

We're good for each other, though. Complimentary. Which is a nice thing to be able to say about one's spouse. The other night we were driving to West Jordan to pick up some crafts for my upcoming Fabulous Friday (yes, it's the newest permutation of Super Saturday. And how do you like that word? Permutation? It's a good one, no?). Anyhow, Wyatt was asleep and we left him with the kids, drove to West Jordan with the windows down on a pretty summer night, went and got a shake at Ab's, and I thought how lucky I am to be married to the person that I most want to drive around with and share a shake with and tell a joke to (even though his jokes are usually better). We've been driving around together for the better part of 20 years (minus that whole mission thing)--in a beat-up Honda Civic, a 1976 Plymouth Volare, a little red Civic (yet another) with no air conditioning, a turquoise Ford, a really cool little Mitsubishi Eclipse (thanks, Dad, for helping us not get taken by the car salesman on that one), two Jeeps (a Wrangler, then a Cherokee), a Dodge Grand Caravan (once new, now stinky), and a Tahoe with seat warmers. The Tahoe's nice, but that Wrangler was really fun. Lots of driving we've shared, and we're still not bored.

Anyway, enough stream of consciousness rambling. Just thankful for my husband, that's all. Love ya, babe.