If You Have the Disembodied Heads All Ready, Why Not?

For all of you, on Halloween, my least favorite holiday:

Personalize funny videos and birthday eCards at JibJab!

And just in case you were wondering, Halloweenish tasks still to complete at the Hallstrom house: carve Jack o Lanterns; find Wyatt a pirate pistol; buy more Halloween candy; figure out a way to make the prison uniform I got for Elise at Goodwill for $1.99, which is two sizes too small, look like this, but Mormonized with a t-shirt instead of a tank top:

We're also planning to somehow make tube socks look like those boots. Somehow. Oh, and Ethan still has no costume. He wants a gorilla suit but gorilla suits are $80 and if he can't be a gorilla? There's nothing else for a 15 year old boy to be, apparently.

I think I will find him a crazy hat. Ah, Halloween!

Mankato Marathon

This weekend, Forrest ran his 3rd marathon in Mankato. Since we're extended-familyless here in MN, it's tough for us to leave overnight, so instead Forrest and I woke up at 4:30 a.m. in order to get to Mankato by 7:00. We met up with our friends the Amezcuas; Hector was running his very first marathon, which is all the more impressive since he only started running a year ago and has lost 70 pounds in the last twelve months.  Forrest was glad to have a buddy to run with, and I was glad to have a buddy (his lovely wife Allison) to drive around town with to cheer the guys on.

Game Face.

On your mark, get set . . .

Forrest and Hector, smiling wide at mile 9.

My friend Allison, victim of a senseless act of enthusiastic cowbelling violence. (Michelle was really sorry.)

In all our many races, I have never made Forrest a poster. Thank goodness there are people like the Amezcuas in the word! (That's their cute daughter Sara holding the sign.)

Grinding it out with the pacing group at mile 20.

Coming in for the finish. Forrest ran with the 4:00 pacing group the whole time in the hopes of getting a time with a 3 in front of it (like, say, 3:59). According to my clock he made it, but when we checked the official chip time? 4:00:24. Forrest took it, yes, in stride.

Forrest and Hector exchanging a heartfelt bro-hug at the end of the race. Both guys did a great job.

All this talk of running marathons makes me tired. Doesn't it make you tired? In that spirit, a shot of Wyatt, a boy who knows the value of a nice, long rest:

Anyway: great job hon! Now all he has to do is finish building our deck and his life will settle down a little. Right? Fingers crossed? At least until cross country ski season starts.

Fall

Wyatt has been keeping an eagle eye out for piles of leaves to jump in.

Fall has arrived here in Minnesota. A beautiful fall, in fact: sunny, clear, lots of beautiful color. Today it's finally cool enough to get that sharpness in the air I love. Jonas and Wyatt are in the back yard with friends and I can hear the sound of the swing set creaking and basketballs bouncing. It's getting dark by 7 p.m. All these things make me feel cozy and content. It would be so hard to live somewhere that doesn't have a proper fall.

Now that we're back in MN, another harbinger of fall is the bow hunt. Forrest looks forward every year to hauling out his deer stand and climbing up a tree. Because we've been so busy he had to put off his first foray for a couple of weeks after the opener. He wasn't sure if he'd even see any deer since the rut hadn't quite started yet, but he figured he'd at least get a lay of the land. But then -- surprise surprise! -- I get a text. "Got a big buck. Heart beating out of my chest!" I was happy for him, but I was also a little apprehensive. We know from past experience that it's one thing to shoot a deer with a bow and arrow. It's another thing entirely to track it and find it. But Forrest was pretty sure he'd gotten off a good shot and that the deer wouldn't go far.

He asked me if I could drive up to the nature preserve and bring some supplies he didn't have with him, which I was happy to do, but by the time I got there it had become clear that he couldn't find any of his deer hunting buddies to help him track the deer and drag it out of the woods. Now, it's taken me years (YEARS) to be okay with even the idea of hunting. When Forrest took it up after we'd moved to Minnesota I hoped for a while that it would be a phase (deer are so pretty, first of all, and while I know that I eat meat that come from animals that were once alive and are now dead, I wasn't sure I wanted my husband to participate in the killing part). But over the years I've come to understand the reasons why Forrest finds bow hunting so meaningful. And there really is a need here in MN to keep the population under control. ANYWAY -- I got to the nature preserve and Forrest needed me to help him, and, truly surprisingly, I knew I could do it.

The tracking part was actually kind of exciting. Following the blood trail in the woods in the dark, shining our headlamps in the trees trying to find little droplets of red on a leaf. Yeah, yeah, I know: I should have been horrified that I was tracking the blood of an animal my husband had shot, but I wasn't. It actually made me feel better when we found blood because it indicated that the deer died quickly, without a lot of suffering.  At one point we lost the trail for a little while, and it was exciting to spot the one telltale fleck that led us back in the right direction.

Then, finally, we came upon a little clearing in a grove of trees and Forrest found him. And oh, what a deer! So beautiful. He's the second biggest buck to ever be taken out of his work's nature preserve, and he looked pristine. So many deer look kind of flea bitten up close (especially in Utah, Forrest tells me, which isn't a slight against Utah but against mule deer), but this guy was perfect. I'm sure there will be a few disappointed female deer in the preserve this fall -- I bet he was the deer-style Brad Pitt of Willow Lake.

So, yeah, I was a little sad for the deer. Poor beautiful deer. But I was really happy for Forrest, too -- he was thrilled. Getting a deer this nice in the bow hunt is a rare occurrence. Here he is, right after we found him:

And yes, I helped him drag it through the woods. And held the deer's leg (and looked away) while Forrest gutted it. And yes, I went above and beyond, scoring a number of wife-points I will enjoy cashing in at some point here soon.

Here's Forrest and the boys with the deer back home:

If there's anything more to add to the deer hunting story, Forrest will have to do so in the comments. I'm sure I left out some important details. But, with the help of his friend, he went on to skin the deer, then butcher it, and by Sunday had made us a nice big pot of venison chili. Yes, he does more than bring home the bacon: he can stalk, shoot, track, gut, skin and butcher the venison, and then fry it up in a pan.

Interestingly, although Forrest spent that Friday feeling lucky and triumphant, when we got home I found a frozen MacBook waiting for me. Didn't think it was a big deal -- my MacBook is 5 years old and likes to freeze up -- but this time? It wouldn't come unfrozen. That very day I had finished what I'd hoped to be the final draft of a short story I've been working on -- I figured all that was left was language-level tweaking and I was pretty happy with it. Unfortunately, though, I hadn't saved a version on my external hard drive or emailed myself a copy for the past three weeks while I'd been working on that final version. Long story about a short story short? My hard drive was fried, and my final version of the story is gone. I still haven't been able to muster up the energy to start over again, but I will. I will. It's only three weeks, right? RIGHT? Sigh. I did get a new laptop out of the whole ordeal, though. Awesome new MacBook Pro. Thank you Best Buy 18 Months No Interest!

So that's been a small part of our fall so far. There's also been seminary and play practicing and deck building (almost done! photos soon) and traveling to Utah. Speaking of Utah, here's a couple of Utah pics to round this post out:

My mom and I posing for a twinner picture in our white shirts and jeans. It seemed necessary, what with my new hair cut. I am becoming my mother! Luckily, with my mom, I don't really mind. :-)

And this is just cute.

And now I must return to the laundry that's been piling up every since we got back from our trip. Laundry: it knows no season.

Goodbye Grandpa Hallstrom

A classic Hallstrom family photo

Steve with Ethan as a baby

Last week, Forrest's father, Steve, passed away at the age of 68. He'd struggled for many years with a number of ailments, most recently a Parkinson's-like disorder called PSP. When we visited in August we knew that Steve's health was failing rapidly, but it was still a shock to hear that he was deteriorating so quickly. While we were all sad to lose him, his quality of life had become so compromised that we knew it was a relief for him to be free from all his physical restrictions and enjoy some peace and rest.

We flew out for the funeral and were so glad for the opportunity to spend time with family and celebrate Steve's life. The funeral was lovely: Barbara and Chelle and Mindy and the rest did a great job putting things together, the grandkids performed a beautiful song, and Forrest delivered an excellent eulogy for his Dad. We know that Steve was with us. We love you, Grandpa Hallstrom, and we'll miss you.

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.