Little Leaper

All Anika wanted to do on our hike today was jump off all the rocks. She can't get enough of it. I wish I had some of her energy, as it took Brandon's convincing and some serious caffeine to get me off my fat butt today- old gray mare, she ain't what she used to be.

highway country

It will be Spring soon and the desert will be blooming with indian paintbrush and desert marigolds. I'm in the mood. I'm in the mood to head East across the Navajo Nation in a pick-up, chewing sunflower seeds with the shells on and listening to highway country. (or maybe even the soundtrack to Dances With Wolves.)

I know I would stop at Glen Canyon Dam, walk to the middle as my ritual demands, and stare down into the deep green water of my canyon, shut my eyes and feel the big trucks blowing up wind behind my back. From there, I would follow the electric train line along SR-98 all the way to where it picks up its coal and... keep going... stopping briefly behind the Navajo school bus to count kids hopping out into the dust... one little, two little, three little indians. Dad would think that was funny.

Nearing Monument Valley, I think I'd stop at the Burger King Dad swore was the world's best. And later, past four corners, for an original breast and coleslaw at Cortez's KFC.

I'm in the mood. I'd like to see the desert blooming. I'd like to see Dad's desert- the way it was that one special spring- after the winter of the freakish rainfall- like on that postcard he sent.

After crossing the Dolores river, banks overflowing, I would start to climb. I'd wind up the San Juan mountain range at sunset, brush the timberline at dusk, and descend in darkness to that pretty little horror town... the way I've done it a million times over.

I'd like some time to think about it.
And watch the sun sink like a stone.
On a long drive alone.

a heart to heart with my daughter...

I had a little chat with Anika last night in the rocking chair. The fact that I was rocking her in the rocking chair, you shall soon see, is simply funny. I asked her why she was so out of her mind. My only crime, I pleaded my case, has perhaps been trying too hard.

I was, this very moment, sitting here reading (insomnia) and started cracking up. Leave it to Mary Baker Eddy to set me straight about parenting. No, I have not converted to Christian Science and I still believe in the reality of evil but I do, in fact, own and read a copy of Science and Health With Key to the Scriptures.

page#62:
If parents create in their babes a desire for incessant amusement, to be always fed, rocked, tossed, or talked to, those parents should not, in after years, complain of their children's fretfulness or frivolity, which the parents themselves have occasioned. Taking less "thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink"; less thought "for your body what ye shall put on," will do much more for the health of the rising generation than you dream. Children should be allowed to remain children in knowledge, and should become men and women only through growth in the understanding of man's higher nature.

Yet another gem to pocket from transcendentalism:
incessant rocking + incessant talking to = fretful child.

TROUT

i do my best
to keep pointlessness
at bay. but here,
wet above my
knees, i let it fly.
here, hot and cold,
fingers thick with
thinking, i try to
tie the fly and look
for the net, loosening
the philosophical
knot of why i came
here today, not yet
knowing whether
i'll free or fry
the rainbows
and browns once
they're mine.

By Kathryn Starbuck

Awesomeness also means a lot to me.

Check out this YouTube video.

Yes, that is Travis Poulson sitting behind the computer halfway through the clip and yes, he gets to do this and call it work. This was on Nat Geo in December.

This is what he said about it:

"Here's the project I've been working on at work for the past two years. The worst part is when everything (millions of dollars worth of equipment) blows up and it's my fault. As for the video, my agent is angry because they cut my speaking part. Enjoy!"

I am thoroughly impressed.

Meaninglessness means a lot to me.

Brandon and I just realized we might be incapable of having fun.
I had such high hopes for today.
Somehow all my fun ideas got swallowed by car registration, tax itemization,
and a toddler who didn't take her nap.
At least The Bachelor, Women Tell All was on tonight.
Small, meaningless trash means a lot to me.
What is your Monday's silver lining?
Family Home Evening, you say?
I've heard of that.
The only thing that could somewhat be considered a religious tradition for this family
is cooking quesadillas on the sabbath.
Oh Alana-
you have so far to go,
so much obedience to learn,
so many promises to keep,
and miles to go before you sleep.
and miles to go before you sleep.

Kai Perfume Oil

My favorite thing in the world is this perfume Cara gave me for my Birthday four years ago. I had previously never been a perfume fan but because it is all essential oils it doesn't smell perfumy. It smells like jasmine, lilies, gardenia, and honeysuckle and reminds me of summers at my Grandma's beach house. I think it will be the only perfume I wear my entire life. Kai and I have been together for four years and I am still not sick of its waft.

I looked at the list of devotees on Kai's website and am a little worried about David Duchovney, Usher, and Tommy Lee. They must enjoy the scent on their lovers. ??? Oh yeah- Kai candles- that must be it. phew.

facebook

I know I have tried to persuade everyone to join facebook many moons ago. Only Quinn and Paul jumped on the bandwagon. Oh yeah, Jenny too but she never uses it. I think she is a myspace gal. facebook is so easy. Let me try to sell y'all on it one more time.

I can't count the long-lost friends I have found. I have reconnected with cousins, friends from everywhere I've lived and almost all 4 high schools I attended. I have found friends I grew up with in Lake Arrowhead... people you always wonder "what ever happened to so and so." It's strange that they are all still out there.

I have reconnected with the classics Joe, Josh, Jer and Brad. I never thought I'd lose touch with them in the first place. I recently started finding all my Salt Lake boys- the "Rim Rockers"- Travis, Jared, Bryce, Mark, Dave, Robert, Robbie... and today I found THE Darrin Moon! Can you even believe it? THE Darrin Nephi Moon!

More familiar faces:

Join me on facebook! It will change your life. You will connect with friends you thought were gone forever.

I've Just Decided...

... the sound of the rain is the most beautiful thing in the world. I want to sleep with my windows open tonight.

Dreaming

Isn't this bedroom GORGEOUS? It's raining tonight and I can't help but imagine myself waking up in this fluffy white bed in the rain... Shall we say... around 10ish? Ahh yes, how nice that sounds-- especially after enduring last night with sick Anika which consisted of nearly no sleep at all! I'd like to sleep in with the window cracked so I can hear the rain. When I do muster the strength to finally step out of bed I'd like it to be AFTER croissants and fresh-squeezed OJ and INTO a hot bubble bath. After this hypothetical bath I think I'd go straight back to bed. Now that is a way to start a morning slowly- the way they were intended to be. A girl can dream, right? I've got a funny feeling I'm waking up in the dark and to Elmo's world.

Sometimes a girl just needs to eat banana creme pie and marshmallows for breakfast and then go buy some four-inch patent leather peep toes. I'm feeling much better.

For Nic

More Newsweek!
As a high-school teacher, I'm sure you can appreciate this.
I would really like to see this film.

Haute Americana

Affected? Absolutely.

I hear the term "affected" out of my Mother's mouth often but can't remember the last time I have seen it in current print. I wrote it off as a "good grief", or "smoke the same brand"- things only my Mother still says. This article made me laugh my head off. Sorry metrosexuals, fashionistos, and hipster-professors, buying a $500 Woolrich copy just makes you more effeminate than ever! Laughable! I need a man whose hand doesn't shake when he puts it up my shirt. By general standards, this would exclude phony lumberjacks!

The good news: Brandon's real Red Wing work boots and flannel shirt are
up-and-coming.

Little bit o' THIS to help me sleep tonight.
My pre-ordered album has arrived.
Only wish it came on tape so I could fall asleep to it on my walk-man, middleschoolesque.
(after doodling Alana Bentley on my homework, of course.)
Dierks, you are one sexy thaaang.

In response...

In response to your post about paranoia and being prepared.

I seem to remember a conversation we had once upon a time on the eve of a havasu hike:

Nicole: (packing everything imaginably necessary to survival into her hiking pack)

"Better safe than sorry."

Alana: (laughing even after she saw the toilet paper)

"Better light than safe."

"...life was more terrible, and I was more wicked, than I had imagined."

I tore this article out of my Newsweek just for you, Nicole darling. It has been sitting in my pile of desk junk for months and I fear it will never make its way into your hands. I figured I'd scan it so I can finally throw it away. I know you will enjoy! Also- you might enjoy THIS.













I'll take that Orwell quote as my epitaph, please.
(underneath my pseudonym, of course.)

R.I.P.

I.B. Crayzee
1980-2100
Life was more terrible,
and I was more wicked,
than I had imagined.

"The nuclear bomb took all the fun out of war." --Edward Abbey

For the first time, I'm questioning: Could I truly be crazy?
Things I have done in the last week:

#1. on the crazy list is perhaps this- enjoy:
In our church they have all the windows locked with bolts. You can't open them for fresh air. I teach CTR 5 and keep thinking there is no way this complies with fire codes. It maddens me. On Saturday night I had a dream there was a fire and, luckily, I had some allen wrenches in my purse to make an escape and save the children. Sunday morning I actually threw an allen wrench set in my bag. (I'm laughing, too!)

#2. Anika still sleeps with a movement sensor pad underneath her mattress. It's the only way I can sleep... if I know for a fact she is alive. I also have her crib on video monitor.

#3. Killer bees are now in Southern Utah and I am actually pondering asking her pede for an epinephrine pen to tote around in my purse.

#5. I have two fire extinguishers, one on each level of my house and can't understand why mounted extinguishers in every house aren't building code.

#6. I never go hiking without my venom-extractor kit.

#7. After mine and the Big B's Thunder River experience I will always rent a satellite phone to backpack with us. It's what the commercial rafters carry and $40/week is a small trade for a dehydrated death in Surprise Valley.

So, am I crazy?

I think I'm more of a boy scout. Be prepared is the motto. It just so happens that every boy scout I have ever known is a total idiot and completely unprepared. Is it not true that several boys/leaders die at every national scout jamboree via lightning, dehydration, falling off cliffs? I, myself, have nearly been killed by several boy scouts. No boy scout on the Thunder River trip was saving my butt. It was rather me, with the ziploc bags, electrolyte powder, and signal mirror that left a red, sweat-less Brandon under a rock, with hallucinations and muscle spasms, to go save his butt. (and yes, I know about the haughty-pride tone I invoke when I talk about it.) My pack is always heavier but Brandon never believed me so last time I made him weigh the packs to prove I was sacrificing my back for both of our safety. (good for me. hmmmph. pout, pout.)

I listened to the dream because I have learned to. With increasing frequency, I have been dreaming things the night before it happens, and even some during. From the deeply personal I have never shared, to the personal I have, to the road accidents, to significant numbers, to Benazir Bhutto's assassination. OK, that last one makes me sound really crazy. But you understand why I can't ignore them.

Despite the evidence, I feel completely sane. I still live life feeling very safe and secure. I go about it normally like everyone else... you know... with wooden dowels in second story windows.

I theorize: Why not? It's so simple to be prepared and know the facts. I feel so much better knowing I've done the SIMPLE things that could come in handy someday. It takes minimal effort to be prepared.

“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!”
-Jack Kerouac

What the Wind Said

Did any of my fellow St. Georgians awake to the howling wind last night?

First on my wear-the-pants agenda was to secure the homestead. Next was to find out where Brandon was. I found him upstairs on the couch oblivious to everything except his heartburn. I said, "Take some Pepto Bismol, fool!" and then went outside, bathrobed, to catch the stroller before it disappeared.

This front-porch outing primed me with those freaky feelings you get when you have to take the garbage can to the end of the driveway at night and end up running back, heart pounding, sure monsters or The Nothing are coming.

After I sent Brandon to bed I had to find out what was rattling on the back porch so I would be able to sleep. I had just stepped out when I met The Nothing eye to eye. The city lights illuminated the dust blown up into the black sky in a fashion I had never before seen.

"It was just the light bulb rattling in the socket? You are one hypersensitive woman- no wonder you don't sleep," I said to myself. With a deep breath, I turned my back on IT.

No sooner, the very fabric of spacetime gusted up behind me and slapped me on the ass very harassment-like. I was shocked first by its firm hand and then totally offended by what it said to me. I'm sure it hissed, "This is the beginning of the end."

I was horrified.
But I thought it could be right.
Can you feel it in your bones?
Can you feel the very earth and the whole of humanity, unrested, vibrating at a dangerous frequency like crystal ready to explode?


Spacetime.
I imagine the satellite to be the one Iran just launched.
What poetic imagery!

Williams - Time for some FUN!

Sledding on Mt. Hood with the Fam

Checkin' In or Checkin' Out

Hello Friends, Sorry I have been absent from your world lately. And now I am hear to fill you in. I should be in bed right now because any minute now, my mom is going to wake up and need to go to the bathroom (and then probably 4 more times before morning.) I have a baby monitor in my mom's room because she had back surgery on Tuesday morning and she came home from the hospital Wednesday night. She was doing fine besides the pain, a little off balance but able to walk with my help (hence the middle of the night bathroom breaks with me by her side). This afternoon though she was back in the hospital. She passed out in the hallway and so we called 911 and they took her to the ER. Luckily Herb was home to help me out. It was a scary experience and then I spent 2 hours at the ER near her bed while they did tests to see what was wrong. NOTHING! They released her and sent her back home. She is really weak and can't even walk now. Because of the back surgery she is not aloud to bend, twist, or lift. So for the next 8 weeks, you will know what my life will consist of. Does life ever slow down? Between my RS calling, teaching pre-school, doing homework, working, taking care of my mom, entertaining my children, and spending time with Herb; I am surprised I actually function. With all that, I did manage to squeeze two episodes of Twenty-Four in last night (I am only on Season 2 and I think there are 7 seasons). I definitely paid for it the smorning though when Herbie and Sage wanted breakfast bright and early. So, now you know why you haven't seen me around this blog. Maybe again tomorrow night, but don't get your hopes up.

Ideal

Catholic Charities in Boston, Mass. is ending its adoption services because it doesn't want to place children with homosexual couples as required by law.

Sure, being raised in a home with same-sex parents may not be ideal, but neither is anyone's upbringing. Mine sure wasn't ideal. But guess what? I was LOVED and I knew it! That's all that matters.

If I was an infant or child whose birth Mother couldn't take care of me or didn't want me, you had better believe I would want someone to adopt me. I'm sure these gay couples are just as loving or more than most parents. Gay couples face so many adoption obstacles.

Has no one besides me seen Annie? Orphans want homes. Orphans want to be loved. Basically, everyone is going to be "damaged" or ill-affected in some way by their upbringing because perfection is no where to be found. It just depends in what way. Gay parents may not be perfect but neither is alcoholism, abandonment, destitution, or ONE-parent homes. Hello! One-parent families are all over the place. Let somebody love these babies. Nothing goes above or beyond a child knowing they are loved.

My child and I are totally insane.

I hate cheese on sandwiches.
Unless it is strictly a cheese sandwich.
For instance: mayo, pickles and cheese.
Realizing this has changed my life.

LITTLE SISTER IS THE NEW BIG BROTHER

Andrea is a ski instructor at Snow Valley. She told me what time the instructor line-up was so I went to the base web cam. It is by far the coolest web cam as you can get control of it and zoom in and out, move left and right, up and down. She was easy to pick out, even though ALL the instructors were wearing their yellow instructor coats. I zoomed right up to her face. It was really freaky. I felt like I was right there with her. Don't you just love modern technology? I will be spying on her every morning at 9:45 Utah time, and watching her snuggle up to her new boyfriend- a fellow instructor. She says her 40's are awesome and I should look forward to my own mid-life crisis.