Admiration

Cokeville had a real small town celebration yesterday for Independence Day. It included a breakfast, a patriotic program, an arts and crafts fair, games for the kids, barbecue and fireworks. It was a real fun day (and a lot of work for the organizing committee, I'm sure).

Sandwiched in between all the other activities was the "Little Miss Cokeville" pageant. This involved 15 participants (girls, ages 6-11) who courageously put themselves out there before a fairly large crowd, dressed in their finest and performing their carefully prepared talents. As you can imagine, there were a lot of jitters--emotions do tend to run high in these situations (especially in little girls and some of their mothers). But there, in charge and cheerfully holding things together, was my daughter Sarah. In spite of the inevitable technical difficulties, the pageant came off without a hitch. The hugs the girls gave each other (and Sarah) at the end showed genuine affection and happy satisfaction and little, if any, jealousy or resentment for the winners. Overall, it was a great success.

Yesterday, I saw in Sarah enthusiasm, willing service, organizational skills, real love and concern for each of those little girls, and more patience than Job. She did a terrific job in an assignment that most of us would decline! And she's MY little girl.

It is quite overwhelming to see my children as adults, capably handling their assignments (and lives) with maturity and empathy and wisdom. After helping them through infant and toddler years, elementary school and volatile teenage crises, it is gratifying to recognize that they have become some of my best teachers, good examples and closest friends. Over the years I have often wondered what I did to deserve such great kids. I love and admire them with all my heart....each one.

"To love is to admire with the heart; to admire is to love with the mind." (Theophile Gautier)

Here's to a Happy Marriage!

Last Tuesday Seth and I marked 32 years of marriage. It wasn't until we were both up, dressed, fed, and heading out the door that we realized it was our wedding anniversary. A quick hug and kiss and we were off in separate directions to accomplish the work of the day.

Later, Seth came home early and suggested that I accompany him on a drive up the canyon "for our anniversary". He arranged for Jason and Sarah to cover the motel and we took off in his big truck (as opposed to my little truck). He suggested that while we were up there "we might as well look for my lost back pack." (Look at the post of May 24, "Seth's Spring Adventure" for details on how it was lost.) So we both put on hiking shoes, threw in the chains so we could drive across the still swollen river, sprayed on the bug spray and headed out.

The hour's drive up the Smith's Fork road was beautiful. The recent rains made the area green and the rivers full. It was a delightful trip. We chained up, put the truck in 4-wheel drive and crossed the river, traversed a pretty muddy road, parked the truck and went for a "little walk" along the river. The water was still very muddy and high and rushing fast. We followed a trail to where Seth took his dive and lost the kayak. He showed me where he finally got out of the water and where the boat came to rest down stream in a natural dam of debris. We saw a rope still hanging from a branch where he and Jason had left it when they recovered the boat.

I went up high, looking down on the river for color in the water (the pack had been wrapped in a bright yellow tarp before it was strapped to the kayak). Seth walked along the river searching for any sign. After a bit, Seth saw what appeared to be a strap and managed to carefully maneuver himself closer to take a look. There, well below the surface, not far from where the kayak had lodged, was his pack. HE FOUND IT!! Of course, it had been in the river for a whole month and was filled with muddy water. But, otherwise, it was completely intact with his boots and fishing pole (well, part of the fishing pole) still attached to the outside. The yellow tarp and rope were long gone.

It took every possible effort to pull the pack to the surface of the water and roll it over the branches to the bank. Seth unstrapped the pole and boots, rinsed out the boots and emptied them of all the water and most of the mud. I carried them up the hill to the trail. Everything inside had to be wrung out before the pack could be lifted to his back. We hiked back to the truck, still marveling at our little miracle. We found it! The drive back home was jubilant after such a remarkable conclusion to our search.

(Just a note in case you're curious. Much of the content of the pack is still usable. The stove, knives, clothes and pack itself are good as new now that they are clean. We even have hope for the binoculars and video camera. The camera and cell phone are total losses. But Seth came home alive and what was lost is found.)

Two years ago Seth and I went to Hawaii to celebrate our anniversary--the trip of a lifetime. Last year we had dinner at the Flying J down the street. This year we "went for a drive" and ate cold cereal when we got home. It may sound to some people like things are headed down hill in the romance department. In actuality, it's quite the opposite. We honeymooned in the mountains and have happily celebrated several anniversaries backpacking in the same high Wind Rivers, enjoying the beautiful quiet and solitude. The giddy high that we enjoyed together this year, upon unexpectedly finding what was lost, was remarkably similar to those early days of our marriage. This anniversary will still be remembered and discussed thirty years from now when we celebrate 62 years!

So here's to happy marriage. We are so blessed to have each other.

Today is Father's Day.

Traditionally on Father's Day we tend to think of our own fathers and, of course, I do with fond appreciation. But this Father's Day I wanted to comment on the fathers that are also my sons.

My oldest son, Ben, has four children (3 daughters and one son). Recently I spent a few minutes with his family as they dropped him at Grandma Sally's before the rest of them headed to Nana's for the night. It was brief, only a few minutes really, but in those few minutes I saw the father he has become. He cheerfully greeted Mom and I, shuttled the girls to the bathroom, calmed the baby with a binky, settled on the schedule for the next day with Heidi, redirected two year old Creed from something off limits, reloaded everyone into the car and waved them off, still smiling when he came back inside. Not more than five minutes later, their van pulled back up to the house because someone did not get a chance to say goodbye. He lovingly complied with hugs and kisses all around. While we headed off to bed (and in spite of the fact that he had few hours ahead for sleep), he waited patiently for them to call and report their safe arrival before he slept.

"A good father is a little bit of a mother." (Lee Salk)

Jason has a daughter just turned one year old. Both he and Aubrey dote on Mikayla shamelessly. Like Ben, Jason takes his turn at diaper duty, feeding, clothing, etc. and he enjoys "daddy duty". Through it all, though, it is his obvious affection for his wife that stands out. Together they will live and love and parent their children.

"The most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother." (Theodore Hesburgh)

Jon and Brock, our sons-in-law, have their own styles of fathering. Jon spends lots of time with his boys, playing and working and riding bikes and going places. Brock wrestles and boxes with his boys, listens well to his teenage daughter, and welcomes a new foster daughter with open arms (even though he said he was "done with babies").
They've both taken fatherhood in stride and are helping their children learn life's lessons.

"One father is more than a hundred schoolmasters." (George Herbert)

I am thankful today for all the fathers in my life, for my father and my father in law, for Seth--the father of my children, and for these wonderful fathers who are also my sons. I am especially grateful for a loving Father in Heaven who gave us families and opportunity to learn together to be more like him.

One last thought:

"What a father says to his children is not heard by the world; but it will be heard by posterity." (Jean Paul Richter)

Food, Glorious Food

I woke up this morning to the smell of a roast cooking in the crock pot. It filled the house with a delicious invitation to get up the enjoy the day.

There is nothing quite like food--the smells and tastes and textures, the comfortable feeling of having enough, the renewed energy, the shared experience of eating together. Luciano Pavarotti said, "One of the nicest things about life is the way we must regularly stop whatever it is we are doing and devote our attention to eating." I agree.

"Whatever will satisfy hunger is good food," says a Chinese proverb. I agree with that, too. It can be something as simple as a few strawberries or carrots. It can be a bowl of oats with a bit of honey. It can be warm, fresh bread right from the oven. It can be a spoonful of peanut butter or a crispy apple or peas picked and eaten right in the garden. It doesn't take much.

Occasionally it is nice to create a meal of more diverse options. Family gatherings often call for a little more thought and preparation. Together we gather, mix and make favorites sure to please every palate. It can be sensory delight and tasty comfort. Days, even years, later we recall the feelings from such a meal when we taste or smell the food eaten then.

Many are "salty" or "sweet" or "spicy" fans. Some don't do fish or "green things" or red meat or squash or sushi or sugar. Some only do whole grains and fresh fruits and vegetables. Some only do things proportioned and packaged and easily available on the go...."some like it hot and some like it cold."

Now, personally, I'll eat almost anything. In a world where so many go without, it's almost a crime not to. Leftovers will store for another day. Several things can be combined to make something new. Remember "waste not, want not." While I enjoy a feast as much as the next person, I don't require much to be happy.

Mark Twain said, "The only way to keep your health is to eat what you don't want, drink what you don't like, and do what you'd druther not." Gene Brown commented, "As with liberty, the price of leanness is eternal vigilance." While these may both speak truth, I prefer to dwell on Thomas Jefferson's idea, "We never repent of having eaten too little." And I always hold to the wisdom of Miss Piggy, "Never eat more than you can lift!"

Mariah's Summer Ahead

Today I will drive across the great state of Wyoming to take Mariah to Univerity of Wyoming's High School Summer Institute in Laramie....five hours over and five hours back! While I have really enjoyed living in Wyoming and find MANY beautiful places here, I-80, across the sage brush of the south end of the state, is not one of them. At least I will have good company on the way over and some great tunes on the way back.

This is a summer of new experiences for Mariah. She turned 16 in May. Her first week as a licensed driver involved daily trips to Montpelier, Idaho (60 miles round trip) for EFY (Especially for Youth, a BYU regional program for teenagers). Because of a variety of other conflicts, Mariah was the only Cokeville teen to attend the conference, so there was no one to help car pool. She got along great, even figuring out an optional route one night when an accident blocked the road and taking care of some grocery shopping for me. Seth was a little concerned about all the driving, but I knew she would manage well (having done 99% of her learners driving with her).

The next three weeks she'll be in Laramie for HSI. This is an opportunity to get a feel for college life, meet students from all over the state, visit lots of Wyoming places, and try out some interesting humanities and science classes. Again, Mariah is the only Cokeville student attending. But it promises to be a grand adventure. She'll make new friends, expand her mind, see new things and, perhaps, miss home a bit. I know we'll be missing her.

Then comes girls camp in the Idaho mountains, cheer camp in Ogden, a trip to Tennessee, and back home again for Pioneer Day. Somewhere before school starts again we will fit in trips to the dentist and school shopping, some motel housekeeping, family reunions, and time to kick back at home.

I can't help but think of those days, not so long ago, when Mariah spent her summers lounging in the tree with a book or wading in the creek or arranging movie parties in the afternoons or walking to the store for a treat and the library for more books, sleeping late, singing silly songs, and somehow avoiding many chores. Her long blond hair is now dark, with carefully added highlights. Her voice and shape are now a woman's. She has matured into an interesting, capable, helpful, adventurous person.

I'm glad she can have this summer's experiences. But Seth and I will both miss her. We're not "empty nesters" yet, but this will be a small taste of things to come.

Go out there and have a blast, Mariah. We love you.

Note: I just got back and I owe Wyoming an apology. That drive across 1-80 was absolutely beautiful today! Everything is so green. There is so much open space with high plains, hills, valleys and mountains, grass and sage brush, rivers and wild game. There wasn't much in the way of traffic and very little road construction. It was a long drive, but perfectly delightful after all.

Sunday Morning

I woke up this morning at 6:08 am, just like every other morning. But today, unlike most mornings, I rolled over and closed my eyes again. I snuggled down into my quilt and drifted back into an unfinished dream. Then I slowly became aware of sounds: a train, the fridge motor, the cat dashing down the stairs, traffic on the highway, a bird, Seth rolling over. I slowly opened my eyes to sunlight filtering through the blinds and no evidence of wind blowing. No need to hurry. It is Sunday morning and the world can wait.

It's nearly seven before I get out of bed. Seth is showing no sign of getting up. Mariah is sleeping, and will be for quite a while. There are no engines running in the parking lot, no motel guests ringing the bell or phone. The house is quiet and still. No early meetings today and church isn't until ten. The yard work is done until tomorrow. The laundry will wait for another few days. Sunday is different, a needed change after six very busy days.

I wake up slowly in a long hot shower. I let the water run over me, enjoying the luxury. Extra time in the bathroom is one of the advantages of the kids growing up and leaving home. I lotion up my legs and dry hands and cracked heels. Then I head to the kitchen for something warm and delicious, my favorite breakfast of hot cereal and fruit.

I empty the dishwasher, put in my bowl and spoon, and clear away Saturday's clutter from the counters. Dinner today will be easy with corn on the cob, salad, and grilled salmon, already marinating in the fridge. Sarah is doing some kind of bread. Seth is up and has already taken out the garbage and watered my hanging baskets. I feel loved. I take a few minutes to catch up on my email and look over the schedule for the week ahead. Mariah emerges from her room, towel in hand and hair rumpled. A brief "hey" and she's in the shower.

On Sunday mornings I tend to look at my life, examine my faith, count my blessings and find ways to strengthen relationships. Today I love my life, am secure in my faith, overwhelmed by my many blessings, and grateful for my many friends and family. I look forward to my morning church meetings with their renewal of covenants and new insights, a loud family dinner with the Weskes, the afternoon to rest and re-energize, perhaps a game or a movie with Mariah and Seth, phone calls and emails to my loved ones, and time to organize my efforts for the week ahead.

Sunday is a gift, a blessing, a day for family and faith and rest. I'm so glad it is Sunday morning.

Seth's Spring Adventure

"Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like falling leaves." (John Muir)

Seth recently finished a big block job and decided it was time to get out of "this false life" into the "reality" of the mountains. So last Monday afternoon he packed up his gear and headed to the hills. His plan was to drive as far as he could toward Lake Alice, stopping when the snow and mud made passage impossible, and then hiking up and over whatever it took to reach the lake. He left a kayak by the lake last fall and thought he'd see if it was still tied to the tree there and, perhaps, bring it out. He purchased a bear tag "just in case" and a fishing license "if the ice is off the lake". He filled his water jugs and gathered some easy-prep food and a fry pan (and real butter, of course) "for the fish". He headed out the door, turned back long enough for a quick kiss and "don't worry unless I'm not back by Saturday afternoon", and he was off.

A little more than three days later, Seth came home. He had a bleeding gash on his ear and he was still wearing his fishing waders. He was not carrying his pack into the house, had no fish on a string, and was not showing off any photos. There was no coat or rifle in sight. But, because I was occupied carrying groceries into the house, it was quite a while later before I realized that these clues were telling me more than Seth was!

To get all the details of this adventure you'll have to hear the complete version from Seth himself. However, the short version, from what I've been able to figure, goes something like this:

He drove to a spot where the river crosses the road, left the truck there, waded the river and hiked over the mountain to the lake. He saw lots of deer, elk and even a cinnamon colored black bear. For a couple days he enjoyed the quiet and the solitude, even the strenuous exercise. This was just the change of pace he had hoped for. The lake was still covered with ice. The kayak was still where he left it in the fall.

He decided to bring the kayak out, dragging it over the snow. At one point he left his sleeping bag and gun by the trail, planning to retrieve it in a couple weeks when the road opened up, and decided to ride the kayak out on the river. He loaded his pack and self onto the kayak and headed out. Wild ride. Great adventure. However, it ended in a bit of disaster. The boat flipped on a waterfall, throwing and sinking Seth in the cold, fast moving spring runoff water. He was in a "washing machine" for a time, lost his paddle but grabbed a branch as the boat drifted by. The powerful river pinned him against the tree, but his head was above water and he watched helplessly as the boat drifted down the river. His waders became filled with water, making it difficult to pull himself out. But, luckily, his squirrel-chewed life jacket held his head above water. The kayak became trapped upside down by a natural damn of collected debris, the pack still strapped to it. Thankfully, he was eventually able to get himself out of the water, but could not retrieve the kayak without some help. He hiked to the truck and came home.

Jason went up with Seth the next morning. They hiked until they found the kayak (it had moved several hundred feet down river) and together were able to hook it and pull it to shore. The pack, though, was nowhere to be seen, the straps holding it had ripped away. A thorough search of the area produced nothing. They gave it up.

I won't even tell you what was in the the backpack. It could give you a stomach ache. Suffice it to say, that little blue kayak is now worth a lot more than it used to be! Truth be told, it doesn't really matter. It was just stuff. But if any of you along the Smith's Fork come across a light gray backpack, full of very wet equipment and a once great pair of hiking boots, you'll know it belongs to Seth.

The important thing is that Seth came home, scraped and scratched and cold, but in one piece--alive. He is none the worse for the wear and tear. He is already planning his next adventure......what a guy!

"A little madness in the spring is wholesome even for a king." (Emily Dickenson)