Prep Work

With flip-flop and sandal season rapidly approaching, pedicures have been on my mind.

I enjoy pedicures as much as the next girl, but I really only get them for the paint job. I do not have skills when it comes to controlling the tiny brush and if I try to save a few bucks with a do-it-yourself project, without fail, I will have the color red, or whichever color I fancy that day, somewhere it shouldn't be...on the floor, on the towel but most likely on the skin surrounding my toenail.

In addition to the stay-in-the-lines color on my toes, I also enjoy the leg rub (as long as I have remembered to shave my legs), the foot soak and, of course, the vibrating/massage chair. That's just fun.

What I don't enjoy, and wish I could skip, is the heel exfoliation.

Genetics and apathy have combined forces to create a mess on the back of my foot. I fully acknowledge that my heel and it's crevices and fissures are not pleasing to the eye nor touch. Jay treats my feet as hostiles to be shunned and my sister, Sarah, recently remarked that my heels were in as bad of shape as she'd ever seen. She followed her reproach by asking if they bothered me. "No. I hardly even notice that they are cracked." I replied. "They don't get caught on your socks?" "No. They're fine."

Minutes later, my offending heel snagged on her shirt (we were talking head to foot on the guest bed) and we laughed as hard as I have in a long while.

That was six weeks ago, and I still haven't done anything to my feet. I have worn sandals a few times, however, and last week noticed a...pain...as I walked. Turns out, one of those cracks has now become wide enough to hold a dime on its side.

I know a good heel sluff would help, but the truth is, my heels are too nasty for a pedicure right now. I need to whip them into some kind of shape before I face the scorn of the nail salon technician. Sort of how I vamp up my flossing right before I see the dentist or, during the happy time I had a cleaning lady coming, cleaned before she came.

The pressure to get a pedicure continued to mount after watching The Amazing Race last Sunday. If you aren't watching this season, the show is currently in China and one of the roadblocks was for one member of each team to get a foot massage. Before they knew what the details were, one of the contestants hoped she wouldn't have to touch anyone's feet. She continued to describe, with disgust, those people who don't take care of their feet and have cracked heels and such. I actually blushed and Jay gave the TV a knowing nod.

I figured a few days of pumice stoning in the shower would prepare me for my pedicure but when I went to the drug store to purchase one, I saw these...


If Madonna can start a craze for fingerless gloves...perhaps my toeless socks will become the must have look of the Summer 2009 season.

A few nights wearing these and I'm all but in that massage chair with the back roller going up and down my back. My heels may still be cracked, and they'll probably make comments about them to each other in a language I can't understand like they usually do (I know they do), but I'll feel better knowing I sheltered them from seeing my heels at their worst.



I know I have ugly toes, but that's not the point of the picture. Check out me rocking the heel-so-softs!

Now, I just need to start thinking of a fun color....

Book Review #55 - Gilead

Perhaps because I already had the phrase, "Balm of Gilead" in my head when I started this fine novel, I was so happy that it had religious overtones. Reverend John Ames is a preacher for the Congrationalists in Gilead, Iowa and dying from a heart condition. Re-married much later in life, after his young wife dies in childbirth along with their infant, he writes his history and thoughts to leave with his young son, who, at seven to his seventy-six, will have few memories of him and none of him as a younger man.

After finishing Gilead, I think it should be everyone's charge in life to leave a written history including sentiments, stories and wandering thoughts for posterity. Of course, most of us won't put words on a page like Marilynne Robison has John Ames put words on a page (so pleasantly meaningful), but the value will come from the experience. I couldn't help but feel the pleasure Ames had in his memories.

Of course, because death loomed in his future, it was tinged with sadness too. After a lifetime of baptizing babies, counseling individuals and feeding his flock, Ames appreciates the treasure that is his family. The pride and joy he feels as a father is palpable and that father/son bond, as distant their ages may be, brings to mind other father/son relationships: his and his athiest brother's with their own father, his best friend, Old Boughton, with his son and namesake, John Ames Boughton, his abolitionist grandfather and his pacifict father, and several well-known examples from the bible. In reality, this story is a re-telling, in many ways, of the prodigal son parable only with a lot more digression. But, it's more than that too.

Filled with symbolism, quotes you'll want to remember and a message of love and forgiveness, Gilead is exactly the kind of book I love to read.

Book Review #54 - A Flaw In The Blood

I haven't read much of Stephanie Barron's work, but can say that of the few Jane Austen mysteries I've read, I've enjoyed her mixture of mystery, suspense and historical detail. A Flaw In The Blood has all three of the above ingredients without Jane Austen being the sleuth.

I always feel like such a snob when a book I enjoyed reading, and finished quickly, gets a poor review. It's as if I'm denying my own entertaining experience. While this was a definite page turner, mostly due to the romantic tension beween Georgiana Armistead, a controversial female physican, and Patrick Fitzgerald, an Irish attorney who is being hunted by Queen Victoria's henchman, Wolfgang von Stuhlen, for reasons unknown.

Georgie, as she is called by Patrick, is past the age of needing a guardian, but Fitzgerald considers her safety his responsibility. When Queen Victoria's husband, Prince Albert, dies, a trail of destruction and murder that points to von Stuhlen indicates that both Georgiana and Patrick have become his targets. They flee to Europe and there, begin to unravel the reason why von Stuhlen and Queen Victoria might want them both eliminated.

The chase and suspense might make the book exciting to read, but, unfortunately, the plot and motive explaining it all is quite disappointing - silly even. von Stuhlen is practically a characture of the classic bad guy (he even has an eye patch!)and Victoria is portrayed as a narcisstic queen prone to hysterics, which may or may not be true. Barron's attempt at including actual history, and unfortunately a documented genetic mystery, doesn't work. She tried to do too much with what should have been a light-weight victorian mystery - a formula she has already proven can be successful. While I can't fault her for attempting to break away from a series, I hope she returns to the Jane Austen mysteries she writes so well.

Book Review #53 - Run

With a title like Run, I was expecting an action packed plot. Unless you consider multi-race family drama, parental expectation, adoption and inheritance conflict action packed, the title is a tad misleading.

Tip and Teddy Doyle, African-American biological brothers, are adopted into a upper class Irish-catholic political family in Boston (their father, Bernard Doyle, was the current mayor of Boston when the adoption took place) when Teddy was an infant and Tip was only eighteen months old. Their adoptive mother, Bernadette, who bears a striking resemblance to a family heirloom Madonna statue, longs for a large family and adopts the two boys to add to their family which includes one biological son, Sullivan.

Bernadette dies when Tip and Teddy are both young, and the results are tragic for Sullivan, who is old enough to feel replaced in both his father's attention and affection by his younger brothers. The story fast forwards quickly to a time when Tip and Teddy are college students struggling to break free from the influence of their doting father. Both are uninterested in pursuing a career in politics, a life-long wish of Bernard Doyle. Tip, whose passion is the study of fish, decides the Jesse Jackson lecture he attends on a cold, winter night, is the last of its kind he will attend with his father and following the lecture, tells him so. Following their argument, he steps into the path of an oncoming car, only to be pushed out of the way by a woman he does not know, but who is curiously familiar with his own life. The woman, Tennessee Moser, is seriously injured when struck by the car, but manages to limit Tip's injuries to a broken foot. While the ambulances rush the woman to the hospital, the woman's 12 year-old daughter, Kenya, is left behind with the Doyles where discoveries and new relationships begin.

While Patchett's writing does stand out as beautiful, her ability to create characters with more than two dimensions seems limited. Bernard Doyle is every father with good intentions but with a little too much zeal. Tip is serious and rigid, Teddy is unreliable but sensitive, Sullivan is a lost cause, Kenya is the always-good girl and Tennessee is the poor, torn, struggling to survive black mother. Always. None of the characters are really allowed to break free from their pigeon hole, and the story, while interesting, suffers from the character's predictable behavior.

Ultimately, I found this entire book to be much ado about nothing. Some of the interesting themes I mentioned above were exposed, but none were developed enough to warrant serious thought. I'm left wondering what the point was. That we're all running away from our destiny? That we run to cope? That we should run faster away from moving cars? I'll never know, but I do know, thanks to another epilogue, that everything turned out nice and tidy in the end.

Book Review #52 - The Boy In The Striped Pajamas

Written in the voice of Bruno, a nine year-old boy whose father is promoted up the Nazi chain of command and given the position as director of Auschwitz, a Polish concentration camp, The Boy In The Striped Pajamas exposes the well-documented horrors of gas chambers, crematoriums, savage beatings and starvation through eyes that have no comprehension of this kind of evil. Instead, when he meets Schmel, a Jewish boy his own age sitting on the other side of a fence, he sees a potential playmate who, for a reason he's never quite curious enough to find the answer why, wears striped pajamas and lives behind a fence.

I wanted to like this. I tried to like this. But, every time this spoiled, ignorant and unable to remember that they lived at Auschwitz and not "Out-With" narrated in his simple-minded style, it was like fingernails on a chalkboard. Didn't the author, John Boyne, think that readers might be able to understand that Auschwitz, when spoken in the German language Boyne told us several times was being spoken, doesn't even come close to sounding like like "Out-With?" Same with Furher and "Fury." I think he may have beeing trying too hard to be clever and the result is more distracting than anything, not to mention confusing to the young audience he's supposedly writing for, as the correct titles are rarely used.

I think it has a place in young adult literature. It narrates the disconnect between the world of a privileged Nazi family and the horrors of the concentration camp with the sensitivity required for young, innocent readers. It's not really Holocast light, but it is definitely Holocaust junior. Because of this, I was less jolted by the predicatably tragic ending than I probably should have been.

A good introduction for young readers getting their first exposure to Holocaust historical fiction, but, in my opinion, there are better books available to tell this important chapter in world history.

Book Review #51 - Eat This Not That: Thousands of Simple Food Swaps That Can Save You 10, 20, 30 Pounds-or More!

During my junior year of college, the new Cougareat opened and I found myself buying a plate of Chicken Alfredo several times a week. I have never liked marinara sauce with its chunky tomatoes and enjoyed the option of a creamy, white sauce that tasted so much better. I honestly never thought about what ingredients might make it taste so good.

Then, somebody (I can't remember who) told me that a serving of alfredo sauce was equal to eating thirteen pieces of bacon. While I have never verified that piece of life-changing information, I have never again been able to eat Alfredo sauce with the same abandon. Then carb awareness came along followed by Jay's Celiac diagnosis and pasta dishes, in general, has been in my "not worth it" column ever since.

I was hoping reading this book would turn a bunch of my favorite guilty pleasures into mental alfredo sauce. Gross me out-of-love, you know? Sadly, it didn't. The foods I knew were bad were still bad and the foods they suggested replacing the bad foods with were the menu items I skip over. Forget the picture on the title that has a Big Mac and the words "Foods that can save you 10,20,30 pounds or more!" Totally misleading. Most of the foods swaps are for items that don't hang out in the same neighbor hood as its fatty evil cousin. If you really want to lose weight, you should probably try to nix that eating out all the time habit. Besides, I don't go to Chili's for their wilty vegetables and canned black beans. If that's all I can have, then I'll go with guilt or not go at all.

Moreover, other than the fast food chains, we don't have any of the restaurants showcased in the book where I live. I think it would make a handy reference guide for someone in a city or suburb of a city whose lifestyle includes a lot of eating out. Otherwise, this book can easily be replaced by using common sense and moderation.

Book Review #50 - The Likeness

Tana French follows her debut novel, In The Woods, with a similar, but better, thriller involving former homicide-now-working-domestic-violence-because-her-last-case-ended-so-badly detective, Cassie Maddox.

Maddox is contacted when the body of a woman is found murdered whose identity is none other than Lexie Madison, a former alias Maddox herself created when working as an undercover agent. That the woman also seems to be Maddox's unknown twin only intensifies Maddox's interest. Who was this girl? Why was she murdered? How did she find out about Lexie Madison?

To solve the murder, Maddox once again assumes the identity of Lexie Madison, who lives with four other Trinity graduate students who have been told by police that Lexie was only seriously injured when stabbed and now suffers from short-term memory loss.

While almost science-fiction in its unlikelihood, the story works because French convinces us it could. Just as she did with her first novel, French's focus isn't really who killed Lexie Madison, but more about Cassie and the results that come from her play acting.

While French does hint and dance around the plot of her first novel, to the point of being annoying vague, The Likeness really can stand on it own as an independent psychological thriller. I happen to think it helps having read its predecessor, if only to better understand Cassie Maddox, but as far as plot goes, reading In The Woods beforehand is not necessary.

Bad language aside, I enjoyed this fast-paced, complicated and interesting book.

Book Review #49 - In The Woods

Billed as a mystery/suspense novel, I think it much more appropriate to shelf it with the psychological thrillers as the whodunit isn't nearly as interesting as the emotional fragility of the two homicide detectives investigating the murder.

Irish detectives Rob Ryan and Cassie Maddox are assigned the case of twelve year-old murder victim Katy Devlin. Strangely enough, Katy was murdered in the exact same woods where Ryan and his two best friends were victims of an attack during their own childhood, an event Ryan has no memory of even though his friends were never found and he was found clinging to a tree with blood in his shoes. Of course, Ryan goes ahead and declares himself emotionally capable of handling this case, while simultaneously keeping his connection to the area hidden to the rest of those involved. Eventually, he does tell his partner, Maddox, and French uses the remainder of the book to erode Ryan's sanity and eventually Maddox's confidence.

My two main problems with Tana French's novel is that 1) the big reveal is tainted with smugness (the author actually uses the words, "I fooled you, didn't I?" when the revelation wasn't all that hard to guess) and 2) there are too many distracting loose strings left untied at the end. Still, the plot was interesting enough to keep me turning pages and her writing and characterization so well developed to make me want to check out her follow-up, The Likeness, soon afterward.

A Day of Firsts

• First time Henry has worn underwear instead of diapers.

• First time Henry peed in his new potty!

It was such a big deal and I forgot to take a picture of how excited he was and how cute he looks in his new underwear. So...for cuteness sake, here's an old picture of when we tried four months ago.

• First time Henry peed in his new underwear....


• First time Henry peed on his carpet....
  

• First time Seth had a friend invite him over for a play date since living here!
  



• First time Sam played in a soccer game.

Sam was great on defense

• First time Sam scored a goal in a soccer game!

Right before his first goal.

• First time I have ever seen this at a soccer game...although everyone else seemed to know what was going on so I don't think it was a spontaneous first-time thing.
  

I would have joined them, but that would have prevented me from taking this fun picture.

• First time Henry was invited to a birthday party.

Of course, I left and came back to discover that I was the ONLY mom who didn't stay for the party. Oops.

• First time Sam and I have had an official Mom-Sam date (yummy brunch with lots of Tic-Tac-Toe while waiting)




• First time I took Sam to a birthday party the Saturday before the invitation says the party is to be held on.
  
  
  
  
• First time Seth played on a full-size soccer field.

I was really impressed by Seth's hustle considering he didn't play at all last year or this fall.

• First time Seth played against girls.

3rd, 4th and 5th grade soccer is combined (I guess all the good kids who have been taking it seriously have moved on to club teams) and one school must not have enough of either to have a separate boys and girls team. So, Seth played against a co-ed team which included some rather mature looking 5th grade girls!

• First time my boys have participated in National No-TV week (which includes computers, wiis and all forms of electronics). It's been surprisingly easy. Although, I really would have enjoyed some whine-free cooking dinner time tonight, usually provided by Wii distraction.


• First time I went to a library book sale and bought books.

All these and four more for the boys for only $5!


It was a full, busy, lovely day.

All I Really Need to Know - Sam Has Learned In Kindergarten

photo by Pandiyan on Flickr

As we drove away from the Grand Canyon, I made a comment to Jay about how I hope to someday return and hike across to the north side of the ravine with our boys.

"I wonder how far a hike it is?" Jay asked.

The pamphlet they hand you after paying the entrance fee had the answer so I responded, "Ten miles as the raven flies."

"The raven?" Jay asks smiling, thinking I somehow got the dark bird in the idiom confused with another. "Don't you mean crow?"

"The pamphlet says 'Raven'". I triumphantly proved. Because getting the words of an idiom wrong is exactly something I would do.

Defensiveness forgotten, as my intelligence was no longer the butt of the joke, we started thinking of other possible sayings.

"Ten miles as any non-discriminant black bird flies."

"Ten miles as any bird of any color flies."

"Ten miles as a mammal flies."

"I don't think birds are mammals" Jay countered.

Uh-oh.

My intelligence didn't escape scrutiny for very long.

"Really? But, they are warm blooded, require oxygen, have lungs etc. etc." I responded, doubt growing every second.

"Mmmmmm." Jay thought.

"Well, they aren't reptiles. Or fish. Or insects. Are they insects? No, they don't have a hard shell. I guess I don't know."

That zoology minor I got in college is not coming in handy.

"They are oviparous." Sam chimes in from the way back seat.

"What?" Jay and I both ask with wonder.

"They are egg layers. We're learning all about it in school. Oviparous."

They have really kicked kindergarten learning up a notch, don't you think?

And it's true. Because they are oviparous, they are not mammals. They belong to the Aves Kingdom. I'm sure I knew that.

In college.

Because I Feel Like Blogging....but don't have much to say

1. First thing you wash in the shower? My Hair. After about 5 minutes of just standing there.

2. What color is your favorite hoodie? This assumes I have a bunch of them. I have one, it's not my favorite anything, and it is white.

3. Do you plan outfits? Only when packing for trips.

4. How are you feeling RIGHT now? Like I should probably get off the computer and clean my house.

5. Whats the closest thing to you that's red? A quilt my mother-in-law made me.

6. Tell me about the last dream you remember having? As soon as I try to nail down a dream, it vanishes. I honestly can't remember anything.

7. Did you meet anybody new today? No. Yesterday I did, though.

8. What are you craving right now? A fountain soda. Or chocolate. Or something spicy.

9. What comes to mind when I say cabbage? Cole slaw.

10. Are you emotional? Embarrassingly so.

11. Have you ever counted to 1,000? Yes. I count backwards from 100 in my head all them time when I'm trying to fall asleep. I'm pretty sure I've done it 10 times in a row on those nights I have insomnia.

12. Do you bite into your ice cream or just lick it? Definitely a biter. I hate the tingly numb tongue.

13. Do you like your hair? It needs to be cut pretty badly. I'm thinking of going a bit shorter.

14. Do you like yourself? I do. I bring things to the table. But, I am fully aware of my lameness too.

15. Would you go out to eat with George W. Bush? Totally. The guy is a hoot.

16. What are you listening to right now? Henry getting into something he shouldn't. (turned around and saw him spooning out some peanut butter).

17. Are your parents strict? No. Not at all. It was a shock being at BYU my freshman year because I literally had more rules to follow...AT COLLEGE...than I did at home in high school. I loved my childhood.

18. Would you go sky diving? I've always said "yes" but after my little..errr...panic attack on the mountain, I wonder if I mean it.

19. Do you like cottage cheese? I don't hate it but don't think I've ever once truly felt like eating it.

20. Have you ever met a celebrity? I sang on stage with Marie Osmond in high school. And I waved to President Monson once in Rexburg Idaho at Frontier Pies (or Perkins. Or Marie Callisters).

21. Do you rent movies often? We do the Netflix thing so definitely yes.

22. Is there anything sparkly in the room you're in? I have looked and looked and can't find anything.

23. How many countries have you visited? Canada, Mexico, China, Germany, Czech Republic, Austria, Switzerland, Belgium, Guatemala, Dominican Republic, Thailand and Myanmar. 12 with more to come!

24. Have you made a prank phone call? I think this question will be obsolete soon with caller ID etc. Back in the day, when anonymity was still possible, I used to call and hang up on people (boys) quite frequently. I mentioned before that I am aware of my lameness.

25. Ever been on a train? Yes. I love the clickity clack.

26. Brown or white eggs? I have never, ever bought brown eggs. I don't even like to think about eggs after someone told me you could see the "umblical cord" coming out of the yolk when you crack them. I don't like to think of eggs as undeveloped birds, and for some reason the brown ones seem more...fowly. So, white.

27. Do you have a cell-phone? I do. I used to lose them a lot but then I got a Blackberry and am much more aware of where it is at all times. I've still lost it once, though.

28. Do you use chap stick? Not regularly. But I'm not against it or anything.

29. Do you own a gun? No. I wonder if I ever will. Kind of doubt it, but you never know.

30. Can you use chop sticks? I can fake it but I don't think I hold them right.

31. Who are you going to be with tonight? I'm going to book club so with a bunch of women I'm still not all that comfortable around, and my friend, Sue.

32. Are you too forgiving? Can you be too forgiving? I don't think so. However, if the intent of the question is, "Are you spineless?" then probably.

33. Ever been in love? I have and am.

34. What is your best friend(s) doing tomorrow? Reading radiological films in a small town an hour away.

35. Ever have cream puffs? Yes and I like them cold.

36. Last time you cried? Tuesday (i.e. the hike).

37. What was the last question you asked? Do you want to watch a cartoon (to Henry so that he had something to do while I blogged).

38. Favorite time of the year? Early fall.

39. Do you have any tattoos? No. I find them...unbecoming.

40. Are you sarcastic? Yes. With certain people.

41. Have you ever seen The Butterfly Effect? I usually don't watch Ashton Kutcher movies, although I did enjoy That 70s show. I think the theory is pretty cool, though.

42. Have you ever walked into a wall? Totally.

43. Favorite color? Definitely dark brown.

44. Have you ever slapped someone? I backhanded my sister, Jen, when we were in high school. She even had a black eye.

45. Is your hair curly? Yes. But thin so easy to straighten.

46. What was the last CD you bought? U2's No Line On The Horizon. And I'm going to the concert in Vegas in October!

47. Do looks matter? They shouldn't but in my shallower moments, they can.

48. Could you ever forgive a cheater? I don't know. I'd like to think so, but....yeah....I don't know.

49. Is your phone bill sky high? Cell phone bill is quite a lot because we both have these blackberrys to pay for. But, not because we are chatty. We don't even come close to going over our combined 700 minutes.

50. Do you like your life right now? There are many areas that could improve, but I am also very aware of my blessings.

51. Do you sleep with the TV on? Never. I can't even fall asleep with the light on, much less a strobe light with accompanying noise.

52. Can you handle the truth? I can. My weakness is in thinking others can't.

53. Do you have good vision? The one part of my body that has never had any problems.

54. Do you hate or dislike more than 3 people? Dislike, definitely. I'm not a hater, though.

55. How often do you talk on the phone? Several times a day. It's not my favorite thing, though, as my sisters can attest to. I'd rather stay connected with other means. #1 would be face to face. #2 would be via written word (email, blogs, old-fashioned letters). #3- the phone. A necessary evil.

56. What are you wearing? Dark brown capris and a red t-shirt.

57. What is your favorite animal? I like animals in general, but none specifically.

58. Where was your default picture taken? On my couch in my living room.

59. Can you hula hoop? I used to be able to, but I wonder if my hips still have it in them.

60. Do you have a job? Luckily not one I can get fired from or I probably would.

61. What was the most recent thing you bought? I bought $50 worth of books at the buy-one-get-one-free book fair at the school yesterday. I added up all my savings, though, and would have spent $172 on the books individually (the hardback books I bought were all on sale).

62. Have you ever crawled through a window? I remember crawling through my friend Lisa's window for some reason and landing really hard on my head on her bedroom floor. I can't remember why I was sneaking into her house, but I did. And I'm pretty sure I was quickly found out and possibly asked to leave. Luckily, I didn't have strict parents and never needed to find out if I could have fit through our tiny, basement, non-egress windows.

Conqueror or Conquered?

Yesterday, because Jay had a post-call day off, he gifted me a few child-free hours with which I could do whatever I wanted. Considering the pleasant 70 degree weather that was calling me outside, a hike seemed appropriate.

I recently purchased a trail guide book that lists and describes all the many hikes in my surrounding area. My not-so-secret goal is to hike them all (no deadline), and write a blurb of my own in the margins about my experiences. I started with Hogsback.

Located in the middle of our local mountain park, the author describes Hogsback as "the most challenging and rewarding hike in the park. It's possible to do it on a long lunch break." The author continues on to detail the two different possible routes up to Hogsback's peak, both including a warning about steepness. Quote: "Near the top is a very narrow spot where you must be careful not to slip, lest you take a steep, unscheduled glissade in the shale for 150 feet." Jay runs up this mountain during piano lessons. I figured I could manage the hike, steepness notwithstanding, in a couple of hours.

The beginning was glorious. I smiled as the sun warmed my arms and face and my ears contented themselves with the sounds of crunching gravel beneath my feet. Jay had lent me his GPS watch to prevent me from missing turnoff's and such so I turned when I needed to turn, making my way up this distinctive mountain's summit.

As I approached the final ascent, I finally witnessed what both the author and Jay defined as "steep." My heart started to beat faster as I looked ahead at what the watch told me was my last 214 ft. Of course, I knew what steep meant, but this was really, really...well....steep. Scary steep. Dangerous steep. I-don't-know-if-I-can-do-it steep.


My first view of the steep end. I'll have you know, the pictures really don't show proper perspective. At least, they don't match my memory.

I decided to concentrate on my feet as I rhythmically started stepping up the hill. I imagined one of those stair-stepping machines at the gym and tried to keep a slow and steady pace (I'm pretty sure the designers of the machine had envisioned the "imagining" to be the reverse - pretending to be outside hiking instead of in a stuffy gym, but who's to say? Maybe we hike so that we can perform well on the machine). The first time my feet slipped down from a step, I put my hand onto the ground to steady myself and that is when it happened:

Fear and panic set in.

It was windy and the mountain's trail was narrow up top. Not balance beam narrow, but narrow enough that if you tripped, or weren't paying attention, you could forseeably drop off either side.. I stopped for a moment to get a grip on my sudden certainty that what I was doing was dangerous and unwise and seriously considered turning around and heading back home. However, the watch told me I only had 150 ft left to go and I thought of all of the object lessons and Ensign articles about the symbolic nature of reaching the top. The "I turned around with 150 ft left to go because I was scared" stories don't usually make it into print. Still scared, but determined to finish, I started climbing again.

I can't adequately explain how each step truly terrified me. While I do consider myself to be a coordinated person, there are times when I feel extremely clumsy. I tried not to look down, but since I was staring at my feet, to ensure that each step was a good one, my eyes took in the view below as well. I said a prayer, pushed back the tears that were involuntarily welling in my eyes, and kept taking baby steps.

It was horrible. I felt completely unsafe - like I was rock climbing without the harness and rope. My hands were clinging onto rocks while my feet were testing each foothold before I dare moved forward. When I reached a grouping of large rocks, which provided a temporary refuge, I decided to call Jay.

"Did you get lost?" Jay joked?

"I am freaking out up here! Is this seriously what you run up? It's straight up and I don't think I can do it!"

Surprised by my panic, Jay made sure I was where I was supposed to be. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on your perspective (I was secretly hoping I had missed the "steep but you can do it on your lunch break" trail and instead found an uncharted and dangerous way up that legitimized my terror), he convinced me I was not only on the right trail but perfectly safe and pep talked me into finishing the last 72 vertical feet. With complete sincerity, I told him, "If I die, I hope you know that I love you." I've never claimed to be undramatic.


Where I really started to panic.


Those large bolders are where I called Jay. Again, it seems much less steep in the picture than it did to me while climbing. I felt like it was almost straight up.

I hung up the phone and stood there for about five minutes longer. Looking behind me, I considered sitting and sliding down on my bottom (which didn't guarantee my safety, but did take away the initial fall). I felt confused because there were some rather loud voices in my head warning me against continuing to the top and I wondered if it might be the spirit trying to protect me from an early and unnecessary death. I'm never really confident in deciding when it's the spirit or my own inner dialogue, though, and in spite of the mental alarms ringing, I knew I didn't want to be controlled by fear. I positioned myself for that final climb and steadied myself with shaking arms, hands, and legs. Frustration, embarrassment and worry pushed the blinked-back tears down my face.

"I don't want to do this!" I cried out loud.

"Heavenly Father, please help me! Help me! Help me! Help me!"

I took a step and shouted with a courage I did not feel, "I can do this!" I took another and shouted, "I can do this!"

I slipped again and cursed. Still needing divine help, I quickly repented.

Those final 72 ft took me around 20 minutes to overcome. I reached the top, looked around to see if anyone atop had heard my recent vocal theatrics and called Jay to assure him that he was not a widower.

He told me to enjoy the view but all I could do was wonder what had happened to me? What happened to the girl who loved a good thrill? The girl who volunteered to pull the cord to drop and swing from the Sky Coaster? The girl who can't stop giggling when jostling around on roller coasters? The girl who loves to hike and has climbed several trails with their own scramble-to-the-top climaxes? Now, I'm that mom that freaks out at Mesa Verde when the kids get too close to the overlook and again at the Grand Canyon. Do I have a brand new heights phobia? Where did this fear come from?



Worth it?

I may have finished and made it down safely (there is a different trail off the front of the mountain (trail seen in picture below) that isn't really any less steep, but mentally, I couldn't face the back side of the mountain again), but I don't feel like I came off conqueror. If anything, I wonder if I'll ever have the courage to hike Hogsback again.


My balancing act on the way down. Can you believe people bike down this???? My toes tingle just thinking about it.

Looks like I won't be submitting my story to the Ensign after all.




Hogsback - my new nemesis.

A Much Needed Jolt of Sun

I meant to blog through this latest trip of mine to avoid the whole lengthy vacation post with an overwhelming amount of pictures, but while there, never felt the gumption to post. So, long vacation post with an overwhelming amount of pictures it is....

I might have cried on Thursday morning after waking up to this scene if I didn't know we were immediately departing from it. I haven't been this glad it snowed since December (I didn't want to miss any of our nice spring weather since it's been so long in coming). We were in the car and on our way by 7:30 am. Arizona, here we come!

I took a few SP where I tried looking forlorn and disappointed, but I think my face works better with the traditional smile.

We wanted to enjoy the drive both to and from so we decided to go one way and back another. We stopped at the Petrified Forest National Park which also includes the spectacular Painted Desert Wilderness. It was beautiful but cold. We quickly took pictures and then jumped back in the van.

Within the park are some remains of historic route 66, including the old power posts that ran alongside it. The overgrowth and forgotten road had me feeling all kinds of wistful, even though I had never driven on it. History does that to me.

Seth and Sam exploring some petrified logs. I had no idea what to expect in the petrified forest and when we were about 10 miles away, I told Jay, "Man, how crazy is it that we are in the middle of the desert now and within minutes in a forest?!" Jay replied, "Oh. Uh-oh. You are going to be so disappointed. Um...it's not really a forest anymore." I laughed and felt dumb. And I wasn't disappointed. It was amazing to see these stone logs.

All sorts of minerals seeped into the logs over millions of years and replaced the tree's tissue with stone.

Henry appreciated the logs in his own way.

Our first night in Phoenix, we called our old friends, Cory and Libby and Doug and Jenny, along with their kids (minus Jenny's Taylor) and met at In-N-Out burger for dinner. It was great, and crazy (remember, there were 15 of us) to see them.

Jenny is so full of energy and light. I wish I could have spent more time with her but it didn't work out.

Friday was a great day. It was in the upper 70s, but plenty warm to take Seth and Sam swimming in the morning. All you really need for a successful family vacation with young children is access to a pool. They were so happy jumping in over and over and over again. And, since only crazy families from Colorado think to swim in 70 degree weather at 9:30 am, we had the pool to ourselves.

I was there, but toes is all I need to capture on film.

Friday afternoon was equally as fun. I emailed and arranged to meet Amy S. and Kelly for lunch at Kelly's house (which is gorgeous even with it's beautiful but poorly designed kitchen appliances). I had met Kelly briefly at a blog part last summer, but really got to experience the wit and charm that makes her blog so delightful firsthand at her home. She had made a delicious salad and banana cake and I even met three of her four gorgeous girls. It was my first time meeting Amy, who has long impressed me with her prose, cake decorating, photography, and cooking skills, not to mention her poetic way of describing life with boys. I was a little worried about feeling like a third wheel around these two, as they go WAY back, but it wasn't like that at all. Blogs are wonderful ways to make friends. The kinship I expected and anticipated to feel with these two women was there and even though my voice wasn't what Amy was expecting, there were few surprises. Strange as it may seem, a couple of hours with these two virtuous women didn't include even a hint of awkwardness.

I really wanted to go to the temple afterward, but decided Saturday would be a better day, and headed back to the hotel where Jay and Henry were both having a nap and Seth and Sam taking a breather before heading off to Amazing Jake's: an indoor amusement center.

It includes a buffet, so we ate to our heart's content and then went to play. Honestly, I don't know how to feel about it. It was a lot of fun, and the boys had an amazing time (they don't call it Amazing Jake's for nothing) but I don't seem to have the personality to find amusement in waiting in lines and chasing after toddlers, particularly Henry, who just wants to do whatever he wants, whenever he wants. That's not to say I didn't have fun. I did. But, I'm also ashamed to admit that the thought, "This would be so much fun without kids," crossed my mind. It made me wonder if I resent chasing after Henry here, somewhere 1/1000th the size of a real amusement park, if I'm even capable of enjoying a place like Disneyland.

Henry loved the rides. Libby's boys, Jackson and Jefferson sat on either side of him because I wasn't sure he couldn't be the first to find a way to squirm out of his seat.

Having way too much fun to think about trying to escape.

Next we hit the teacups (called chocolate cups here. No copyright infringement or anything). My days of enjoying constant spinning are over. Holy dizziness.

All the boys stood in a long line to drive the Go-Karts. Seth was tall enough to drive his own, and have his own passenger. Tall enough, but not quite brave enough to put the pedal to the metal. He definitely created a bit of a racing hazard with his cautious speed.


Jay gearing up for his NASCAR debut.

Poor Henry waiting. We didn't have enough paying drivers for him to go with the boys, and after one 30 minute line, no one was willing to stand in it again. So...he got to watch.

Cute Libby with her adorable sleeping daughter, Jordan.

A second ride on the Frog Hopper.

More teacups. I mean, chocolate cups.

Finally, finally, after trying the train and the carousel and all sorts of video games that he gave up on, we found the baby area which completely entertained him. I sat on a bench and watched him do his thing.

Saturday morning, Jay left the hotel really early, like a quarter to five, to run in the Pat Tillman Race at ASU stadium. Since I mentioned it before, I thought I'd congratulate Jay on his fantastic run. He ran 6:04 minute miles finishing the 4.2 miles in just over 25 minutes. He finished 66th place overall out of about 20,000. I'm telling you, there are sweet rewards for those with passion:) Mostly, I'm just really glad he had a great time. And I was right, he was back at the hotel just as we were finishing up breakfast.

Later, after more family swimming, he, Seth and Cory left for their first NASCAR race, the Subway 500.

They had pit passes, which allowed them down on the race track before the race. Here, Seth and Jay are standing in front of victory lane.

Jay found Tony Stewart"s (his favorite driver) pit area. No sightings of Tony, though. Except for in his race car, that is.

Seth, standing in the middle of the track with Jimmy Johnson's car in the background.

I think this was a warm-up lap, but it might have been right after Darrell Waltrip said, "Boogity, boogity, boogity! Let's go racing, boys!"

They had great seats to watch the action during pit stops.

Mark Martin took first with Tony getting second. Jay said the day was perfect and could only have been better if Tony had won. Seth agreed that it was one of his best days ever. Not my cup of tea, but I'm glad they all had such a great time.

We left Sunday morning with the Grand Canyon as an out-of-the-way stop on our drive home. Neither of us realized how much time it would add on, but we are both glad we went to see one of the great wonders of the world on such a beautiful day, and with so few tourists to compete against for views.

Standing at Mather Point on the south side of the canyon. Pictures do not even come close to capturing the majesty of the place.

A self-portrait at another pull-out. My battery was blinking and I wanted enough battery power for one last picture so didn't take as many as I should have at the Grand Canyon.

They say you can stand in four states at once, but that is a myth. The truth is that you can only stand in New Mexico, Arizona, Colorado and Utah at the same time between the hours of 8:00 am and 7:00 pm, and we were too late when we showed up at 8:15. So, that memory will have to wait for another day.

I love all my boys who make these fun trips possible. They are such good travelers and willing sports to go wherever we feel like taking them and I feel grateful to live in our free and beautiful country, where the spectacular and historical are so accessible.