How could you not love this happy little face?
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Adventures in BFE
Last weekend we had a plan to go camping. Head south. Warm up. Dry out. I was dying for a weekend surrounded by saturating heat waves, red rocks, and singing cottonwoods. But alas, the call of sleep and parenthood won over and we stayed home. We had been sleeping for a week on the couch downstairs while trying to get Stella to sleep through the night. Our tiny home that easily housed Calder and me for the last few years now feels like it has been stretched to its limits with the addition of a third person to our family. With Stella just around the corner from our bed, its hard to not wake with her every move or noise. So for several days we moved our bedding, toothbrushes, and pajamas downstairs and didn't venture upstairs after putting her to bed. By Friday (when we were hoping to depart for the trip) she was just starting to get the hang of it and I didn't want to chance relegating those uncomfortable nights downstairs to the "in vain" category by getting her out of her newly developing groove. So, we opted to continue with the "sleep training" a euphemism only parents can understand, and hang around for the weekend. Calder promised to spend a project-free Saturday with me and Stella on a family adventure. The late late arrival of Spring made venturing around our mountain home a snow-ridden prospect so we searched out something downhill and ended up at the Great Salt Lake admiring the work of Robert Smithson in the Spiral Jetty. 
The lake was picturesque, with wispy cirrus sky slipping to flat salty pools and barely a hiccup at the horizon between the two. 
The gnats nipped at our necks and ears and the four-wheelers added some undesired character, but it was lovely to see a little more of lake that is the biggest natural landmark around.
Bless the bureaucratic souls who set aside public lands in our great nation. Even if our state tax revenues suffer, I find it a privileged to reside among so much open space and wouldn't trade it for cash of any kind.
While in BFE we figured we had to stop at the Golden Spike National Historic Site to see where the railroad finally connected East to West. They have real live replicas of train engines from back in the day that are even coal powered...pretty cool. We missed the May 10th anniversary and a ride in the train by just a couple, but we did get to hear the whistles blow while we were hiking on an old track. Funny how I feel like I know our State so well, yet still have so much land and sites to cover. And with Calder in tow we couldn't drive past Thiokol without stopped to see the rocket display.
Calder found a way to get a little projecting in because what would a trip to the valley be without a stop at Smith and Edwards and NPS? (though his favorite stores didn't have the hydrolic rams he was looking for) Stella was a rockstar of a traveler, and luckily hasn't developed the propensity for carsickness as she can face backwards and read at the same time while we bumped along the freeway and over gravel roads. 
Topped off with a burger and fries at 5 guys, it really turned out to be a really great day.
The lake was picturesque, with wispy cirrus sky slipping to flat salty pools and barely a hiccup at the horizon between the two. 
The gnats nipped at our necks and ears and the four-wheelers added some undesired character, but it was lovely to see a little more of lake that is the biggest natural landmark around.
Bless the bureaucratic souls who set aside public lands in our great nation. Even if our state tax revenues suffer, I find it a privileged to reside among so much open space and wouldn't trade it for cash of any kind.While in BFE we figured we had to stop at the Golden Spike National Historic Site to see where the railroad finally connected East to West. They have real live replicas of train engines from back in the day that are even coal powered...pretty cool. We missed the May 10th anniversary and a ride in the train by just a couple, but we did get to hear the whistles blow while we were hiking on an old track. Funny how I feel like I know our State so well, yet still have so much land and sites to cover. And with Calder in tow we couldn't drive past Thiokol without stopped to see the rocket display.
Calder found a way to get a little projecting in because what would a trip to the valley be without a stop at Smith and Edwards and NPS? (though his favorite stores didn't have the hydrolic rams he was looking for) Stella was a rockstar of a traveler, and luckily hasn't developed the propensity for carsickness as she can face backwards and read at the same time while we bumped along the freeway and over gravel roads. 
Topped off with a burger and fries at 5 guys, it really turned out to be a really great day.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Late
You know when you think you will go to bed early, but before you know it hours have slipped by and you are still on the computer playing around with emails and facebook and checking your friends blogs? And then you have passed the point of going to bed early, so you decide you might as well keep doing what you're doing and at least get something done because you certainly have missed the going to bed early window. So you keep doing more of nothing like looking through old photos, looking up facts on wikipedia, rechecking your facebook homepage, and finally even succumbing to updating your own blog (which is normally procrastinated longer than dusting the top of the bookshelf) until its gets so late and your shoulders hurt and your eyes get blurry and even Calder heads to bed before you finally give in to the night and shut 'er down. Well, that is now.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Football
So is it just me, or is there anyone else out there that thinks watching football on TV is boring? It seems that all too frequently holiday hangouts turn into game after game of head-bashing, body-smashing, bone-crunching testosterone fueled, ball-flinging, brain-boring physical combat-TV-daze watching. Where I could find hundreds of preferable alternatives courtesy of the satellite, football is the only thing that seems to be playing on the screen. And it seems that I am outnumbered. At least tonight. Maybe for the new year I should resolve to embrace the game...or maybe not.
BORING
things that are more exciting than football...
getting my teeth drilled by the dentist
memorizing the dictionary
high council talks
history by coach blackham
counting sheep
etc...
BORING
things that are more exciting than football...
getting my teeth drilled by the dentist
memorizing the dictionary
high council talks
history by coach blackham
counting sheep
etc...
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Raccoons
Calder is one of the craziest and most adventurous people I know. He can
scale mile high cliffs without a drop of sweat going to anxiety. He has sailed alone on the open ocean, miles from shore and other land-born creatures for days at a time. He uses power saws, waving digits and limbs precariously close to rotating blades without flinching. I thought his fearlessness was relentless. Then we moved into our Midway country house complete with country mice and other critters and found the weakness in his manly persona...raccoons.
Before we restored the log cabin, it was home to many furry creatures. The neighbors said they used to hear raccoon fights at night, the ceiling was home to families of black-eyed bandits, and
they had chewed several holes in the stairs. The first day Calder walked into the house he wore a hazmat suit and carried a stick. He would throw open closet and bedroom doors like cops on Law and Order expecting a raccoon to jump out and attack him from every new space investigated. It wasn't hard to startle him with a sudden movement his direction, and I took advantage of the opportunity to make him jump. The only sign of raccoons left were wheelbarrow loads full of feces we shoveled out of the house (which had been abandoned of two-legged humans for 40 years) and a couple of carcasses we found in the crawl space. The first one we pulled out hadn't been dead long, and our neighbor Mike helped us pull the smelly bugger out.
Since those initial days, we have had a few more encounters with the ringed rodents. They have loved hiding under our deck and the neighbors have seen them scurry under the deck hatch many times. Before we sealed the crawl space we once heard them scratching under the floor, which I will admit was a bit creepy. They are considered pests in the valley and the non-native species really proliferates in the rural town. Most locals shoot or run-down raccoons on sight. But their numbers never seem to dwindle. One of our neighbors shot almost a dozen of the rodents during the late summer, all from the comfort of his porch.
Last week Calder opened the deck hatch to close the crawl space and seal out the wintery cold air. I was at work, on the phone with him while he was opening up the hatch. Mid-conversation I heard a frightened "Oh my..."and then nothing. Just open air. My heart jumped
as I pictured him falling off the roof, or being attacked by masked men and I quickly wondered who I could call to rescue him from whatever calamity had befallen him. "Calder?...Calder?" I queried with no response. Finally, "oh my gosh, there is a raccoon RIGHT there!" I should have known--he was scared speechless by the critter. After he regained composure he was able to explain that the culprit was not just any raccoon, but a DEAD raccoon, lying in the opening of the crawlspace. When he opened the hatch he saw it there in front of him and afraid it was alive, cried out in fear. One of these days a raccoon might kill Calder--by giving him a heart attack.
Even a dead raccoon was not something Calder wanted any part of. He called our neighbor Josh and Dottie the dog over to help handle the problem. Dottie couldn't find any other raccoons under the deck, so hopefully we won't wake some night to scratching under the floorboards in case on is trapped, and then Calder can avoid the underside of the deck until Spring.
scale mile high cliffs without a drop of sweat going to anxiety. He has sailed alone on the open ocean, miles from shore and other land-born creatures for days at a time. He uses power saws, waving digits and limbs precariously close to rotating blades without flinching. I thought his fearlessness was relentless. Then we moved into our Midway country house complete with country mice and other critters and found the weakness in his manly persona...raccoons.Before we restored the log cabin, it was home to many furry creatures. The neighbors said they used to hear raccoon fights at night, the ceiling was home to families of black-eyed bandits, and
they had chewed several holes in the stairs. The first day Calder walked into the house he wore a hazmat suit and carried a stick. He would throw open closet and bedroom doors like cops on Law and Order expecting a raccoon to jump out and attack him from every new space investigated. It wasn't hard to startle him with a sudden movement his direction, and I took advantage of the opportunity to make him jump. The only sign of raccoons left were wheelbarrow loads full of feces we shoveled out of the house (which had been abandoned of two-legged humans for 40 years) and a couple of carcasses we found in the crawl space. The first one we pulled out hadn't been dead long, and our neighbor Mike helped us pull the smelly bugger out.Since those initial days, we have had a few more encounters with the ringed rodents. They have loved hiding under our deck and the neighbors have seen them scurry under the deck hatch many times. Before we sealed the crawl space we once heard them scratching under the floor, which I will admit was a bit creepy. They are considered pests in the valley and the non-native species really proliferates in the rural town. Most locals shoot or run-down raccoons on sight. But their numbers never seem to dwindle. One of our neighbors shot almost a dozen of the rodents during the late summer, all from the comfort of his porch.
Last week Calder opened the deck hatch to close the crawl space and seal out the wintery cold air. I was at work, on the phone with him while he was opening up the hatch. Mid-conversation I heard a frightened "Oh my..."and then nothing. Just open air. My heart jumped
as I pictured him falling off the roof, or being attacked by masked men and I quickly wondered who I could call to rescue him from whatever calamity had befallen him. "Calder?...Calder?" I queried with no response. Finally, "oh my gosh, there is a raccoon RIGHT there!" I should have known--he was scared speechless by the critter. After he regained composure he was able to explain that the culprit was not just any raccoon, but a DEAD raccoon, lying in the opening of the crawlspace. When he opened the hatch he saw it there in front of him and afraid it was alive, cried out in fear. One of these days a raccoon might kill Calder--by giving him a heart attack.Even a dead raccoon was not something Calder wanted any part of. He called our neighbor Josh and Dottie the dog over to help handle the problem. Dottie couldn't find any other raccoons under the deck, so hopefully we won't wake some night to scratching under the floorboards in case on is trapped, and then Calder can avoid the underside of the deck until Spring.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Growth
Here we are. Another year has passed, and before the calendar reads 2010 I thought I should try my hand at blogging once again. Don't worry, it is not for lack of activity. This year has been full of hills and valleys, and the changes in between. I could have filled pages and pages of exciting details. Its just that this whole blogging thing feels a bit like journal writing--if you don't do it regularly, when you finally do you aren't sure what to write, how to summarize the time you've skipped, to know if you should fill in since the last entry or just let the reader figure it out on his own. And if you skip playing catch-up, then what pithy topic does the errant writer choose to break the silence? I don't know.
Lately I have been growing things. I grew a baby, a garden and a thyroid tumor all during the last year. Stella was by far the cutest thing I grew, the garden was the tastiest, and the tumor the least work--so little work I didn't even notice it until my mom pointed it out one day. Now the garden is gone, but just for the season, to be planted again next spring. The tumor is gone, hopefully for good, and I am left with a fading necklace of a scar and some thyroid pills. But Stella, she is still here. Here and growing. I guess technically I am still helping her grow with all the breast milk, but she has really taken on a life of her own. And we are happy she is here to stay.
Lately I have been growing things. I grew a baby, a garden and a thyroid tumor all during the last year. Stella was by far the cutest thing I grew, the garden was the tastiest, and the tumor the least work--so little work I didn't even notice it until my mom pointed it out one day. Now the garden is gone, but just for the season, to be planted again next spring. The tumor is gone, hopefully for good, and I am left with a fading necklace of a scar and some thyroid pills. But Stella, she is still here. Here and growing. I guess technically I am still helping her grow with all the breast milk, but she has really taken on a life of her own. And we are happy she is here to stay.
Before
After
Later
Before
After (this was timely for Halloween)
Later
Late June in the garden (after)
Before
After (this was timely for Halloween)
Later
Late June in the garden (after)
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