Minutiae Time! (Like Hammer Time, but Less Funky)

All my posts lately have been detailed accountings of family events, which, in addition to being scintillating reading, offer up all sorts of photographic possibilities. But then I realized it's been a while since my dear readers (all four of you) have enjoyed some disjointed mental meanderings. So come! Let's take a walk.

First, hey, politics. Let's go there. I've watched a few Republican debates, and I think Mitt has figured some things out during this second presidential run. He's a lot less wooden this time, imo, and seems more consistent in his message, which is (often), "Hey, I don't like Obama, but I'm not a crazy person (slight jerk of the head toward Perry or Bachman or my favorite of all, because he's so committed to his particular brand of craziness, Ron Paul)." He's certainly experienced enough. To me, he comes off as an ultra-responsible Dad -- the kind of guy that one could envision actually getting things done. And given the current roster of Presidential candidates, the Republicans would be crazy not to nominate him. Rick Perry? Rick Perry is so right wing and, I believe, walks and talks and even looks a little too much like Bush. Moderate voters who didn't like Bush aren't going to forget the things they didn't like so easily.

The funny thing is that of all the Republican candidates, Newt is my favorite to listen to. Not that I would ever vote for Newt.  But he's a smart guy and has been doing this for a long time, so whenever he gets the opportunity to answer a question during a debate (which is rare) I find myself looking forward to what he has to say, even if I don't agree with it, because I know that it will come from a place of experience and intelligent consideration. And since he really has no hope of winning the nomination, he has the luxury of saying things in a spin-free way. Newt -- thanks for making the debates a little more entertaining, especially when your wife comes on stage and I get to thoughtfully consider what, exactly, it is about her that reminds me of Cruella DeVille:

 (I just googled Calista Gingrich to find this picture and discovered from her Wikipedia page that she was born in 1966, which means she is SIX YEARS older than me. Six. SIX!)

(And I hereby apologize for being snarky about Calista. I am sure she's a very nice person.)

But Obama? Ah, I'm still pulling for him. I'm disappointed in certain aspects of his presidency, I've got to admit. The funny thing is, what I liked about him from the very beginning -- my impression that he doesn't jump to conclusions, that he likes to listen to lots of opinions before making a decision, that he's willing to acknowledge ambiguity, that he doesn't need to seem like a tough guy -- these things have worked against him during this first term to a certain extent.

Anyway, the general election will be really interesting, especially if the Republicans are smart and nominate Romney. (I think Huntsman's bid is a lost cause by now, so I'm not even considering that, even though I do like Huntsman better than Romney.) If I vote for Obama again, whoo doggies! It was hard enough being a Mormon who voted for Obama in 2008, but being a Mormon who votes for Obama if he's running against another Mormon? Goodness. I'll have to practice keeping my mouth shut. I think I've still effectively shielded almost all members of my current ward from my moderately left-leaning political positions thus far, so I'll have to keep it up, or else nobody will invite us to come over to their house to play sedarahc (you know! backwards charades!).

Okay, enough with the politics. (Big sigh of relief.) Now we can talk about popular entertainment. Forrest and I just went to go see Moneyball with Brad Pitt and it was really, really good. Great script, great acting. I've never been a huge Brad fan, but he delivered a really nuanced, taut performance in this film. The movie isn't so much a sports movie as a character study, so I loved it. And I want that house that Brad Pitt's character's ex-wife, played by Robin Wright Penn, lives in.

As far as television goes, last night I attempted to watch the premiere of Terra Nova, since something I read somewhere claimed it was really good and would appeal to Lost fans. HA! I say to that. Turned it off after 45 minutes, so I didn't get to see any real dinosaur action. Silly script, silly acting, silly plot. Silly silly. Too bad.

And finally, on a not-silly note, on top of all my seminary teaching of late, I was asked to speak in a special sacrament meeting on Sunday to which we were all encouraged to invite our non-member friends. (I think I've gotten the message that I should be keeping my day more focused on things that are eternally important, like the gospel and the scriptures and serving other people. And guess what? It has an effect. A good one.) Anyway--my talk was on the family, a broad, tricky topic, especially with lots of non-Mormons in the audience. I think the talk went pretty well. But what I wanted to share with you was a great quote I found by CS Lewis:

 “There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket - safe, dark, motionless, airless - it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. We shall draw nearer to God, not by trying to avoid the sufferings inherent in all loves, but by accepting them and offering them to Him; throwing away all defensive armor. If our hearts need to be broken, and if He chooses this as the way in which they should break, so be it." - from The Four Loves

 I'm so glad that we've semi-adopted CS Lewis into the Mormon faith so I can use excellent quotes like that one in sacrament meeting talks.

One last thing: Elise got a big part in her school one act play, The Seven Nasty Princesses. She's a witch. She kind of wanted to be one of the princesses, but once she found out that she had lots and lots of lines, she came around. Hooray for Lou!

And one last, last thing: Last night, Forrest got to eat at an expensive steak house at the Paris hotel in Las Vegas. Last night, after driving my children all over creation and helping with homework, I made bacon and pancakes, then burned the bacon, then by the time I got everyone else their pancakes, my pancakes were cold.

I got over it. Mostly.

Half Iron, Half Donut

Rising from the waters of Square Lake

Last weekend Forrest competed in his first half Iron Man triathlon. (I figure if he's half iron, then his other half must be donut -- lately, chocolate cake donuts with white frosting and sprinkles from SuperTarget.)

The half Iron Man is the longest distance Forrest has attempted so far: 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, 13 mile run. Forrest got it done in 5 hours and 40 minutes, which was in the solid top 1/3 of all the competitors. I always love watching the time pass, and pass, and pass while Forrest does these things, realizing that he's out there going while I'm driving around and eating breakfast and reading a book and dropping off kids. Luckily for this one I was able to cheer for him during the swim and yell a "wahoo!" or two during the run. I even got the chance to slap him on the backside as he ran past me, which prompted the guy coming up behind him to ask if all the runners would be likewise encouraged. I don't know if he was disappointed or relieved when I told him no.

Anyway, Forrest did great. Amazing. Truly, it's amazing to me that he can do this stuff. And he's hardly even sore afterward, which is sobering, considering that I can be sore a day after pulling weeds.

Forrest and his friend from work, Brendan, before the race began.

As long as he continues racing, I will continue posting shirtless photos.

Forrest made a friend on the run. He always likes having somebody to talk to during the longer distance runs, and these guys kept each other company until nearly the end. We can also thank the new friend for Forrest's grin in this picture, since he saw me with the camera and told him to smile. Also, I think Forrest's wet shirt is half water, half sweat. It was a really hot day for September, 85 degrees or so.

Coming across the finish line, cheered on by random strangers!

My favorite story from the triathlon happened on the way home. Whenever Forrest does a long race, he really really wants a giant half Coke/ half Diet Coke from a convenience store with lots of ice. It's his recovery drink, and he claims it's like magic. (Hey, you know me and Diet Coke. I believe him.)  The race took place in a more remote area just north of Stillwater, so it took us a good 10-15 minutes to get to a gas station in historic downtown Stillwater, which is a Park City-like town on the banks of the St. Croix river with lots of bars and restaurants. Anyway, I walk up with Forrest's drink and the guy at the register asks me, "So how are you today?" and I say, "Good. My husband just finished a half Iron Man, and (gesturing to the giant drink in my hand) he needs this to recover." The cashier looks confused for a second and says, "A drink like that helps you recover?" And I think I know what he's thinking: most athletes drink gatorade or water, so I say, "Well, you know, it must be the caffeine or the carbonation that works for him. But he likes it." The cashier continues looking at me with his eyebrows knit together. "So . . . is a half Iron Man a mixed drink?"

Suddenly it dawns on me. This whole time, he thinks my husband is fall down drunk and I'm hoping a nice Coke with ice will snap him out of it. At two o'clock in the afternoon. Ha! After I explained to him that a half Iron Man was in fact a race, we both had a good laugh, and I had a good story.

Anyway, congrats to my dear, sober Iron Man. We're all proud of you. And in other great news, we're proud of Ethan and Elise, too. Ethan just made it into the chorus of his high school's production of The Mystery of Edwin Drood (yes, it's a musical, just an obscure one) and Elise just made it into her middle school's Vocal Jazz group. The competition was tough for Ethan's musical and I'm SO proud of him that he did it and made it into the chorus, especially since he's not a big fan of actual singing. (See what the desire to hang out with your friends and possibly one day get an acting role in a non-musical play will do?)  And I'm really proud of Elise, too. This year there's only one extra curricular singing group at her middle school, and she made it! They should both have a great time.

And me? I'm a little wrung out by the first full week of seminary. Man, it's a lot of work. But it's been good too. I'll get the swing of it. Won't I???

Ethan's Birthday, Goodbye to Summer, Hello to School

First day of school pics, at the nature preserve by our house. Light isn't the best: too many shadows. Still learning!

The rush and hustle of school began this week. Okay, edit that: the rush and hustle of 6 a.m. to 9 a.m. and then again from 3 p.m. til bed began. The hours of 9 to 3 (and especially from 9 to noon on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday) are once again blessedly still. Although a part of me will miss the empty laziness of a summer day, an even bigger part of me is really, really glad that the kids have new structure and purpose to their lives NOT orchestrated by me, and that I once again have some blissful alone time. I will never ever forget, I have solemnly vowed, what it was like to be a mother of little kids with very little peace and almost no silence from dawn to dusk, and I always remind myself to truly relish the moments of quiet I get in my day now. They are, in a word, heavenly.

And speaking of heaven (actual, not metaphorical): early morning seminary teaching has begun, kicked off by a whirlwind discussion of the various and sundry types of heaven in our fantastically complex Mormon theology. (Okay, so that discussion was day two. Day one was mainly introductions & whatnot.) Day two was an overview of the Plan of Salvation, and even though I tried to keep it simple, I still felt like I was playing the Theology of Mormonism Speed Round, made all the more interesting by the fact that one girl's very nice nonmember boyfriend has been attending class.  During one point of the lesson, I pointed out that we can't really see the plan as a line, with a beginning and an end -- that it's more like a circle continually spiraling (ideally) upward, and that if we become exalted our own spirit children will have the opportunity to experience all that we have. At that point, a cute freshman boy said, "Wait. What? Spirit children? What?" I can only imagine what the nonmember boyfriend was thinking. I actually talked to him on Friday morning and told him that we wouldn't always be going that fast -- that Thursday's class was like walking into the middle of a third year Spanish class and trying to follow along. He seemed affable enough about the whole thing. Whew.

Anyway, seminary is going pretty well. I was so tired on Friday night, though, that I fell asleep at 9:45, a real rarity for me, and remained completely knocked out until after 8:00 on Saturday morning. The kids are doing well after their first week of school, too.  Ethan has a lot of homework -- AP World History is a bear, and chemistry isn't too easy either --and Elise has had a little bit too. Jonas, like always, is quite content with everything, thank-you-very-much-no-details-please. And Wyatt skips right into class with a smile on his face, and skips right out the door with me when preschool is over. It's good.

So, anyway, pictures! I have neglected to acknolwedge Ethan's birthday on the blog, so I will repent and do so now, as well as share some first day of school pictures of the kids. Ready, set, go:

For Ethan's birthday, we went to Buffalo Wild Wings, just like last year:

and had our neighbors over to help us eat cake:

A few days after Ethan's birthday, he had a bunch of friends join him on the boat for some tubing. There are no pictures of this event since there was only room for Forrest on the boat with all those hoodlum teenagers and Forrest was 1. driving and 2. not inclined to take pictures. But: hey, Ethan! Happy birthday! You're 15 and we love you.

A few days after the birthday boating, the rest of the family plus our good friends' two kids got to go and try out the new tube (kinda Ethan's birthday present . . . but I say kinda because it IS a family tube, but Ethan is a good sport about such things). This time I came and DID take pictures. Boating photography with the new zoom lens? Most excellent!

(Obligatory Goofy Jonas / Ethan Hiding shot)

Then, bam! School started. The week has been absolutely gorgeous: temps in the high 70s almost every day, blue skies, lilting breezes. It feels exactly like the first week of school should feel.

Here are the kids all herded together for the annual back-to-school photo shoot. Only Wyatt isn't wearing his first day outfit, since he started on Wednesday.

First, the head shots. I no longer order 8 x 10s of school pictures, and instead blow up pictures I take myself. I do a better job. This is not bragging, as anyone who has experience with Lifetouch Photography can attest:

The full-length, outfit shot:

And just for good measure:

This pose was completely spontaneous. I don't know whether to be delighted or concerned.

On the first day of preschool, Wyatt refrained from making devil's horns and sticking out his tongue and instead looked very excited and sweet as he sat at his desk and got down to the business of filling out his worksheets:

My baby boy! They measured all the kids on the first day, and he's one of the tallest in the whole preschool. Who knows: my dad might get some basketball-playing progeny out of me yet.

Anyway, glad the first week is behind us. Glad this last YEAR is behind us. I know it takes at least this long to start to feel settled, especially where kids are concerned, and I think they're all doing great. When we had FHE the Monday before school started, it was so fun to look the kids in the eye and say, "You did it. WE did it. And aren't you glad it's September 2011 instead of September 2010?" They all solemnly nodded their assent.

Utah Trip Part Two

See, the plan was to come home from our trip and to have some extra time in the day. Ha! I don't know where are all the hours are going -- hours I'd intended to devote to continuing my detailed accounting of our summer vacation -- but at least 3 and 1/2 of them were spent with me in a chair at a salon recommended to me by a friend called Sassy Di's. (Gotta love that name! I don't know Di but I'm sure she's totally audacious). After looking at pictures of myself from our trip I decided I needed to get my hair cut shorter, and that if I was going to do THAT, I probably shouldn't roll the dice and go to Fantastic Sam's. Anyway, 3 1/2 hours later I had both highlights and lowlights and, although I'd told my new hair lady I wanted a style that was shoulder length, she interpreted shoulder as "mid neck." Voila:

My hair hasn't been this short since 1993 and my ill-fated Princess Diana cut. I think it needs to be a little bit longer (ahem, shoulder length) but I think I need to say goodbye to the masses of hair of my youth. Anyway, enough about my hair. Who cares about my hair? Let's get on with the trip recounting. I have a lot of recounting to do, since I realize I need to pound through the final week and a half of our trip in one sitting or else I'll fall hopelessly behind. Here goes:

Sunday/Monday Aug. 15 & 16
Darrin and Katie and family invited us to stay up at the Wilkey family cabin for a night. I haven't stayed at the cabin since, oh, 1995? So as we drove up I had a few lyrics from the song "Memories" flitting through my brain. Or, you know, lighting the corner of my mind. (Although not the Barbara Streisand version -- more like the Tom Hanks from Big version. Is it just me, or has the Big version completely elbowed out the Streisand version in your subconscious as well?)

Since I need to kick up the pace on this blog, I shall summarize, and then illustrate with pictures. Although I slept terribly -- tiny bed, giant man next to me who sleeps with elbows all akimbo (don't you love the word "akimbo"?), thunderstorm rolling through at 4 a.m. -- I found the rest of our cabin time to be lots and lots of fun. We played some cards, fished at the river, ate some yummy tacos and salsa, and then on Monday headed down to Smith & Morehouse reservoir for canoeing and rafting. It was a splendid day: a bit of a breeze, blue skies. And nobody tipped over in the canoe!

Plus, it's always fun for me to see our kids and the Wilkey kids hanging together. It doesn't seem that long ago that Darrin and Katie lived in the apartment right next to ours and we were young and relatively fancy free. (Now? We're totally beset upon with fancies of all sorts.) I still can't quite believe that all these kids are OURS, especially since a few of them wear gigantic shoes that were cluttering up the cabin's entryway.

Elise (13), Jane (12), Cole (8), Ian (15), Isaac (4), Wyatt (4), Jonas (10), Ethan (14), Max (13)

More cabin pictures:

One of the two bucks that sauntered out from under the deck when we pulled up.

The cabin porch swing. Lots and lots of people have swung on that swing over the years.

Wyatt's first fish!

The only time during the entire trip when Ethan said, "Hey Mom! Take my picture!"

Then, of course, Jonas had to get in on the action.

Isn't that a pretty sky?

Wyatt and I went on an early morning walk on Monday while everybody else slept. Gotta love that morning light.

Boys in the canoe at Smith & Morehouse

Other boys picking berries at Smith & Morehouse

Girls in the canoe at Smith & Morehouse

Nature, being peaceful and altogether lovely

Tuesday, Aug. 16

We continued our Wilkey-time on Tuesday by dragging them to Lagoon with us. Since the Wilkeys are a Bountiful family (meaning, that's where they live) they get lots of Lagoon time. Ian even worked there. But we love going to Lagoon with the Wilkeys because 1. we love the Wilkeys and 2. their kids match up so well with our kids that we can let the majority of them run off together and leave us to go on the Music Express with 4 year olds. (Love that ride! Really, I do.)

This time, though, our day at Lagoon had a hitch: poor Elise had a major tailbone incident. I say "incident" because it wasn't really a broken tailbone, more like a super-duper-bruised tailbone. Anyway, she'd hurt it on Saturday at Cowabunga Bay and had been taking ibuprofin to help with the pain. She seemed okay, though, and when we sent her off with Jonas and Jane she was a tiny bit sore and promised to take it easy. About thirty minutes after they left my cell phone rang and Elise was on the other end in tears. She'd gone on the big white roller coaster and was now in so much pain she could hardly walk. I went and got her and we hobbled together to the car, then spent a good portion of the afternoon at the Bountiful Instacare. After a few x-rays it was established that, yep, Elise's tailbone hurt, and the good doctor gave her some Lortab. She was still in so much pain and could hardly walk and I thought we might have to go home, or at least get her a wheelchair -- and of course, at Lagoon that day, they were out. But lo and behold! The magic of pain pills. By the time we got back to the park the meds had kicked in and she could walk. She proceeded to get happier and happier and chattier and chattier (seriously, I wondered if that was a side effect or something?), and even though she only went on the nice-and-easy rides the rest of the day, we all had fun.  I'm pretty sure the boys had fun, too, but since they were off running around without us, I have no stories to tell.

A few Lagoon pics:

I am the designated parental chaperone on all spinny rides. I may be extraordinarily afraid of heights, but you can spin me around all you want. Heck, I might even enjoy it.

Dad is a big fan of the bumper car, though. Especially if he can ram into Darrin.

Katie & kids, searching Lagoon's murky waters.

Wyatt and Isacc. Ding ding!

The guy right in front of me had an Insane Clown Posse tatoo and got into a yelling match with a guy in the line. Even more exciting than the Tidal Wave ride itself. Also: is it just me, or are the mermaid ladies painted on the boat a lot more modestly dressed than they used to be? (Sorry, no mermaid ladies actually pictured.)

Three cheers for Lortab!

Wed., August 17

Elise got invited to spend the day with the Young Women from our old ward who were at girl's camp. She was so excited, and was even more devastated after the tailbone debacle that she might miss seeing her friends than missing a ride on the Colossus at Lagoon. So we decided on a compromise: we'd take Elise up to girl's camp, drop her off for a couple of hours, and in the meantime go see Grandma Wilkey, who, since her stroke, is living with Jennie and Rick in Cedar Hills, just twenty minutes or so away from the camp. Ta da! See how things work out?

Elise had a great time visiting with her friends, even if it was just for the afternoon, and I'm so glad the rest of us got to see Grandma Wilkey:

So, yes, I cropped Ethan out of this picture because he was making a really strange face. Is that wrong?

Wednesday evening I got to head over to Darlene's house for the Irreantum contest committee meeting. I find the Irreantum contest committee meeting inordinately satisfying. Really, what's not to like? Smart, funny, interesting people getting together to talk about literature, eat, gossip a bit, etc. Ultimately, it remains an honor for me to be part of the process that gives deserving writers a sliver of recognition and money (not mine) for all their hard work. I'm so glad we were able to work it out that the meeting coincided with our trip back to Utah.

Thursday, August 18

I have no pictures from Thursday. (No gasping yet. I don't have any for Friday either. NOW you can gasp.) But Thursday was a lot of fun too. We headed down to Provo to see Tony present at BYU's education week. I love listening to my little brother teach -- so confident, so funny, so smart. Hundreds and hundreds of people circle his name on the schedule, scamper across campus just to listen to him talk and then sit there, so raptly attentive, scribbling down everything he says. My little brother, the one with the Spiderman underoos. (Okay, clarification: he USED to wear Spiderman underoos. Not sure exactly if he's still into that.) Seeing him inspire so many people is still kind of mind boggling, even if it's totally deserved.

That afternoon we headed over to Grandma and Grandpa Hiatt's house and hung out with Aunt Denny and Emma as well. The highlight of the afternoon was watching Grandpa Hiatt touch his toes. I really should have brought my camera!

Then, that night, we hung out with the Hallstrom side of the family and enjoyed a nice barbecue at Mindy and Peter's place. Steve's health isn't the best, so I'm glad he was able to make it to Mindy's house and spend some time with us and the kids.

Friday, August 19

Friday morning and afternoon were all mine: breakfast with Kathy (yes, we solved the problems of the universe); lunch with Darlene (yes, we solved the problems that Kathy and I failed to consider). Then later that afternoon my mom and I went and saw The Help at the Larry Miller theater. I do love the Larry Miller theater, and The Help was a really good movie. The acting was particularly strong. Forrest was able to get some golfing time in with my Dad, and then Ethan, Elise and Jonas scattered to the three winds, each of them sleeping over with a friend. Friday night Forrest and I went to dinner with some friends from our old ward, and we were having such a good time that we decided to stop over at Red Mango for some dessert to top it all off.  So, yes, if you're keeping track, on Friday, August 19th I went out for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert, and yes, I felt a little queasy come bedtime. But hey: I didn't order any popcorn at the movie!

Saturday, August 19

Triathlon time! Saturday morning dawned bright and early as we headed up to Jordanelle reservoir for the now 4th annual Forrest/Tony/Peter triathlon event of the summer. Only Wyatt came along this time -- the rest of the kids were at sleepovers and not all that interested, to be honest -- but it was really fun to have only one kid to worry about. Especially since that one kid spent most of his time with my mom and dad! Instead, I got to focus on photography and cheering, two of my special talents. (Okay, so the photography thing isn't really a talent, I just have a good camera. And yes, you're right, I was only a JV cheerleader, and a kinda pathetic one at that. But still.)

Forrest, getting ready to join the churning mass of arms and legs. And look how close up I can get? Zoom lens. Love it.

The aforementioned churning mass. This time Forrest did the Olympic length, longer than the sprint, so his group wasn't quite as big.

Grandpa, Grandma, Wyatt and Reagan. Also excellent cheerleaders!

Yessirree. That's all I have to say about that.

Peter, after the swim

Tony, after the swim

Calvin J! Oh, I just want to eat that baby up.

Fierce biker dude. (Also Forrest.)

Tony, at the finish

Finishing strong

That evening, Forrest and I went to a game night with a bunch of friends from our old ward (super fun, much hilarity and good food), but before we left, Grandma made sure that Tony and Cindy's kids were at the house and ready for the (also fourth annual?) Sock Olympics. Whenever my friends talk about their own parents and their skill (or lack thereof) in actual grandparenting, I tell them about the Sock Olympics and realize just how good I've got it. Grandmas who organize Sock Olympics are a rare and precious breed, and we're so lucky to have one of them:

Wyatt and Eli, marching in for the opening ceremonies

Vivi, also marching, and being cute

All the kids with their homemade flags. Ethan will be required to participate in the Sock Olympics maybe until he's married, I'm thinking. :-)

Intense sock competition

Ethan, just before he accidentally zigged when he should have zagged and put his knee through the wall. Sorry Grandma and Grandpa! The hazards of Sock Olympics, I tell you.

 Sunday, August 21


Baby Enzo's blessing! Peter offered such a beautiful blessing, and it was great to see his mom and sister again. Unfortunately Steve wasn't feeling well enough to come, but we know he was there in spirit.

I had a great time snapping pics of Enzo and the rest of the family at Mindy and Peter's house afterward. How I wish digital photography had been invented when Ethan and Elise were babies! I think I have, oh, nine blurry pictures of Elise from her baby blessing. Enzo was a great subject, though. So handsome and accommodating:

These two: possibly related?

After all the blessing festivities wrapped up, we headed back to my mom and dad's to celebrate their 40th wedding anniversary. It wasn't too fancy -- we just whipped up some shish kebobs and strawberry shortcake -- but it was fun to hang out one last time with mom and dad and Tony and Cindy and the kids before we headed home.

The grandkids

The grandkids + Grandma and Grandpa and their giant anniversary card

Me & Tone. We also look related, although not quite as startlingly as Mindy and Forrest. This is also one of the pictures that convinced me to get a hair cut. The double chin cut, sadly, was not an option. ("Sloping esophagus!" Tony reminds me.)

Monday, August 22

 
Headed out relatively bright and early, sad to leave our family and friends and a little exhausted by the whirlwind. I, for one, was looking forward to finishing my novel (Bel Canto -- a good one). Ah, the pleasures of driving with big kids.

We made one stop the first day at Martin's Cove. We have ancestors that belonged to the Martin handcart company (the Clegg family -- Alice Clegg, who was 9 at the time she crossed the plains, is my greatgrandfather Orville Sweat's grandmother). It was a treat to pull off onto a dusty road in Wyoming and learn a little more about our family history. I also got a kick out of the retired missionaries that serve in the little Martin's Cove visitor's center: good, solid Mormon stock, those folks.

The kids, pointing to the Clegg family on the list of Martin handcart company pioneers. All six of the Cleggs survived (if you enlarge the picture you can read their names) which is why their names are in white.

The nice missionary in the blacksmith shop made us all rings out of horseshoe nails. Wyatt in particular loved his.

Somehow I wonder if these kids would sing as they walked, especially if they didn't have an iPod.

Tuesday, August 23

We had a long day of driving ahead of us, but before setting out I made sure we made a quick stop at Mount Rushmore.

Wonder who they'd carve on the mountain today? Wonder if it would even be possible to put a relatively modern president on any mountain using public funds without partisan yahoos on either side pitching a fit?

A fitting final photo of our trip. Notice how thrilled everyone seems over being asked, yet again, to face into the sun and smile.

I'm glad we stopped over at Mount Rushmore. It's smaller than I expected it to be, but the visitor's center was really cool and the crowds were huge, considering we were there rather early on a random Tuesday.

Then we got back on the road and drove, and drove, and drove. It wasn't until this last day of the trip that the driving really got to me. Isn't that always the way it goes? The last leg of the trip seems to stretch on forever? But we were so glad to pull into our driveway. Buttercup was thrilled to see us and we were all excited to sleep in our own beds. It was a fabulous trip -- thank you so much to everybody who helped make every minute so much fun. We're so lucky. We love you.