tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51160890662863972552024-03-13T20:31:53.297-07:00From A to ZJillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17686894853035348341noreply@blogger.comBlogger515125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116089066286397255.post-85452072662511233232015-05-26T18:51:00.000-07:002015-05-26T18:51:11.649-07:00Noah's talkNoah gave a really great talk last Sunday in church about being prepared.<br />
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<span class="s1">If Ye Are Prepared Ye Shall Not Fear</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>Whenever I am leaving home for something, a vacation or some other overnight activity, I love to pack. When I was little, my mom used to give me an exact list of what to pack. Like “3 long pants, 2 jackets, 1 swimsuit, 5 shirts, etc.” I was usually very good about following the list. Except for that one time we were having a big family photo taken in Utah over Thanksgiving about 8 years ago. My mom had packed some dark jeans in the bottom of my bag to wear for the picture. I didn’t know about that, and when I saw those jeans, I thought, “Crazy Mom. You know I only wear camouflage pants.” And I took those pants out. I followed the rest of her list exactly. On picture day, my mom was a little surprised that I had taken out the pants I was supposed to wear for the big family photo with all of my aunts, uncles and cousins. Well, luckily I had packed plenty of camo for the trip, so I put on my favorite pair of camo pants, and joined the rest of the big Breinholt family for the photo shoot. I must have looked pretty good, because the photographer put me right up front and center. I think I made the photo look even better than it would have.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>Anyway, I was talking about how much I love to pack. My mom doesn’t make a list for me anymore, because she knows that I like to be prepared. Everyone else might pack one tiny bag for an overnight thing. I pack a giant duffle bag. You never know what you might need. Definitely a flashlight, and the usual boring things like clothes, food, sleeping bag and a pillow. But what I really need in order to have the essential stuff is a light saber, my game boy, a pound of gummy worms, and an extra pair of shoes just in case some scouts think it’s funny to put them in the rainstorm in the middle of the night. An extra tent just in case Shayden Nagle tries to light our fly on fire again. And another extra tent fly just in case someone decides to take your fly off in a torrential rainstorm and hide it. 10 pairs of underwear, 5 pairs of shorts. You just never know what is going to happen. I guess you could say I’m an over-packer. I inherited this quality from my mom.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>Anyway, I have learned that thinking about things that just might happen, and then preparing for those situations, has come in handy. I don’t want to ever be cold, or wet, or worst of all bored. So I </span></div>
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try to be ready.</div>
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<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>Our family has taught me the importance of being prepared for things as well. Whether it is a school project or a math test, my mom has always tried to help me look into the future and plan my time wisely. I don’t usually listen to her, but I do understand the concept. Starting a huge project the morning that it is due is a little more stressful than if I would actually think about it ahead of time. Maybe next year I’ll finally get it.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>My dad is Mr. Just In Case. Seriously, that guy thinks of every possible thing that could happen, and tries to prevent any injury or harmful situation. Like with running, he checks the weather at night, and then sets out all of his clothes he is going to need to run in the morning the night before. That way he doesn’t waste time scrambling around for something, because he got everything ready ahead of time. Again, maybe next year I’ll get that whole planning the night before thing figured out, too.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>Our family has taught me to be prepared for hard times. We have been going to the church cannery for a long time putting food in cans and boxes, and stacking it up in a room in our basement just for this purpose. We have a supply of all kinds of other things like rope, lighters, firewood, paper plates, shampoo, toilet paper, and all that kind of stuff. If the power goes out, the world ends, a quarantine is in place, or the zombie apocalypse happens, we can survive for quite a while barricaded in our house. My parents have spent a lot of time, energy and money to make sure that our family would be prepared for any situation. We will have food, heat, toilet paper, and thanks to my mom, 70,000 books to read until the end of time.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>But preparing for physical things is just part of the game. We need to be prepared for spiritual and emotional trials that will come as well. To do this, we need a solid foundation in gospel principles. We need to know the basics: God lives, Jesus Christ atoned for our sins and he carried our troubles and sorrows as well, families are forever, we have help from the angels of heaven to get through our dark times, and that we were each sent to earth to accomplish certain things that our heavenly father needs us to do. Besides my parents preparing us for the end of the world, they have also tried to prepare us kids for the rough parts of life as well. They have done this by having family home evening (even though I’m not sure I’ve ever actually listened), scripture study (even though a lot of times we just end up laughing because somebody uses a funny accent), and family prayer (even though somebody usually makes a funny noise), and then we sing a hymn before we go to bed. These basic things have built up day by day, year by year, to help give us the spiritual strength to be prepared for whatever may happen.</span></div>
Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17686894853035348341noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116089066286397255.post-9822118428241413052014-11-06T09:37:00.001-08:002014-11-06T09:37:46.327-08:00Turtles<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Ae9z67pvO1ADG-PBBgTHQ0LGy3lpV1e9X7MTYTCRCaFrKQyBUdy6fikBA4PIRNjQkCVopzncE_NxcUyxGVUOtzaMbPEMTaSSdQ_uZjjOvCW3upQxPD7xwmckEhwIc5fnEqCPmFeAGT4/s640/blogger-image-1798000657.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Ae9z67pvO1ADG-PBBgTHQ0LGy3lpV1e9X7MTYTCRCaFrKQyBUdy6fikBA4PIRNjQkCVopzncE_NxcUyxGVUOtzaMbPEMTaSSdQ_uZjjOvCW3upQxPD7xwmckEhwIc5fnEqCPmFeAGT4/s640/blogger-image-1798000657.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I visited my grandma yesterday, and she told me two stories I had never heard before. They were both about turtles. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">My grandma is from the South. She is beautiful, spunky, adorable and awesome. And her eyes light up in a twinkle just like my dad's eyes did when a good story was being told. One thing I learned about the South yesterday is that when it rains hard, turtles come out of everywhere and cover the roads. If you are driving, you can't help but hear the turtles going "POP POP POP POP POP" as you drive over them.</font></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">On one visit back to visit her parents, grandma and grandpa were driving during a storm and suddenly the road was covered in turtles. Grandpa got out of the car and was able to catch two turtles. He brought them into the car and decided he should take one of them back home with him to surprise the kids. When they got on the airplane to return to Utah, Grandpa stuck on of the turtles inside his camera case. He put the camera case under his seat</font></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">A little later in the flight, the lady sitting in front of him kept getting out of her seat to complain to the stewardess about something. Grandpa and Grandma didn't really know what she was upset about, but they could tell something was wrong. After several talks with the stewardess, this woman was given a different seat. Grandpa decided soon after she left that he should check on his turtle. He got the camera bag out from under the empty seat in front of him and opened it up.</font></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">PEEEEEEEE-YEEEEEEEEWWWWWW. It was the worst smell ever. He closed the bag up and stuck it back under the seat, realizing that his turtle had been the source of the fellow passenger's discomfort. I can just see the smile on his face as this dawned on him.</font></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">On another trip to the south, this time with the kids in the station wagon, the Breinholt family stopped at the Mississippi River for some fun. The kids were amazed at how many turtles they found, and they loaded up two buckets of turtles and took them in the car. Each night after the family slept at a motel, it was quite a job to find all the turtles that had crawled around and hidden in the car. </font></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">Two of those turtles survived the trip back to Salt Lake City, one of which was missing most of one leg. Grandpa helped the kids make a sand box for the turtles to live in out by the garden shed. But that gimpy turtle </font><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">kept wandering away, which was upsetting to the kids. My grandpa was a problem solver, though. He got out his drill and put a hole in that 3-legged turtle's shell. The hole was just big enough to put a thin rope through, and the rope was tied up to the laundry line. This way the turtle was free to roam but not to escape.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">That worked for a while, but eventually both turtles did escape.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">About a year later, the boys were running around at the fish hatchery behind the Breinholt home, and they came across a three-legged turtle with a hole drilled in its shell! Of course they brought it home again. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17686894853035348341noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116089066286397255.post-68075582605717991792014-10-14T08:42:00.001-07:002014-10-14T08:42:05.366-07:00O, Canada!In August, we took our 4th trip to Alberta to Banff and Jasper National Parks. The kids beg to go back, and although there are surely many beautiful places within a day's drive of here, we always end up back in Alberta. And I sing "Alberta Bound" nearly the whole way there.<br />
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Some pictures from our trip:<br />
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Our first stop is always in Canmore. It's a cheaper and much less touristy place than Banff town, but only about 10 miles away. <br />
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Canmore is surrounded by mountains, and is just beautiful. There is an Olympic venue there for cross country and biathlon. It is a public park with miles of paved trails. We were the cool family and took our scooters with us (they fit much more easily in a car than bikes). We went twice a day up to the Olympic park and rode our scooters on the trials. It was a good workout, and so super fun to go down the hills fast.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgabV1kFQY5BgbWWZ114kfy8oIgrgwt9HGlrrdEIbA17JfFkv_dW6EtXwKMY-yslkPzaTaow138_frqURNvlrBXusNDB6vwyreSNl0fwcV-S4SjuyF5J-XhewKiTBo8l7qsr8jUaag5_Kg/s1600/scooters2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgabV1kFQY5BgbWWZ114kfy8oIgrgwt9HGlrrdEIbA17JfFkv_dW6EtXwKMY-yslkPzaTaow138_frqURNvlrBXusNDB6vwyreSNl0fwcV-S4SjuyF5J-XhewKiTBo8l7qsr8jUaag5_Kg/s1600/scooters2.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYKCUsp4Vfqp1RSXeXUkC-3poNirDDizz9o13me8V_MCPFSX3LdPEqeTpCNbeeXgNHQfPdzk6daYv41W3iQbxpHapV8XHLR7fmdNEHeHFI88mloDs7TVSo7LBeQFhoAH9rXUCLq0WlMlM/s1600/scooters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYKCUsp4Vfqp1RSXeXUkC-3poNirDDizz9o13me8V_MCPFSX3LdPEqeTpCNbeeXgNHQfPdzk6daYv41W3iQbxpHapV8XHLR7fmdNEHeHFI88mloDs7TVSo7LBeQFhoAH9rXUCLq0WlMlM/s1600/scooters.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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These photos were taken at Bow Falls. Cold glacier water from the Bow River and an excellent area for kids to splash and throw rocks.<br />
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Another stop we always make in Banff is to the tram that goes up Sulpher Mountain. You can see forever up there. Some people go up, walk to the top and then head back down. If you ever go, pack a lunch and take the trail that goes down the back of the mountain for a half mile or so. The best views are there, and the crowd is nowhere to be seen.<br />
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After staying in Canmore, we stay in Lake Louise for a night or two. My favorite place in the world is there--Moraine Lake and The Valley of the Ten Peaks. Some people stop at Lake Moraine, snap a picture of the blue water and then leave. The most beautiful spot is up the trail just to the right of the lake shore.</div>
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I had never seen this spot on a cloudy day. At first I was kind of bummed out about the clouds (even though I adore clouds). But then I realized it was actually quite beautiful to see the ten peaks jumping in and out of clouds all day long on our hike to Eiffel Lake.</div>
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Mark took this picture of me standing at the end of the Valley of the Ten Peaks.<br />
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Zack is a happy hiker.<br />
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We met a grizzly bear on our hike that day. It was huge, and stopped right in our trail for quite a while.</div>
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We stopped at Lake Louise on our last morning to try to see the view, but it was still pretty cloudy. That didn't stop the swarms of people going there. It is a crazy mess.<br />
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A new adventure we did this year was a hike at Parker Ridge. It is halfway between Lake Louise and Jasper, and we have always seen throngs of people hiking up the switchbacks whenever we have driven on the Icefields Parkway. But we could never figure out what was so spectacular to make the hike worthwhile. Well, we found out. Turns out the most spectacular view of Saskatchewan Glacier and river head is just over the hill, surrounded by green mountain meadows and wild phlox and far as you can see. Plus, a stunning view of Mt. Saskatchewan in the background!<br />
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And look how much fun your kids can have if you stop here! Sheep horns, and then a death-defying stop at the cliff's edge. As an added bonus, there are millions of fossils all along the trail and everywhere you look. Sea fossils on every rock!<br />
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Isn't this so beautiful?<br />
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It's also worth stopping at the base of Athabasca glacier. There are so many fossils here, and the view of the glacier and the mountain is awesome.<br />
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We stayed at the Fairmont Jasper Park Lodge for the last week of our trip. It is 50's glam in the most beautiful setting on the shores of Lac Beauvert. I loved our stay here. Although the hotel itself could use an update, the pool itself is worth staying for, and the service is spectacular. The town of Jasper is my favorite with so many great restaurants and shops. </div>
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We loved staying on the lake. Savvy (our bird nerd) loved the loons.<br />
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S'mores on the lake every night at 8:30 was a bonus! I think my favorite quote of the trip was Zachary who at one point said, "Why would anyone take their kids to Disneyland?"<br />
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On the way home, we stopped at Mt. Robson viewpoint. I had never seen the top of this beautiful peak. It's the highest point in the Canadian Rockies, and when we have driven through before, it was obscured by clouds. It really is a beautiful vista.</div>
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Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17686894853035348341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116089066286397255.post-39642739061412201162014-10-13T21:54:00.001-07:002014-10-13T21:54:35.649-07:00Why I fear EbolaI am heartbroken at the news of a nurse who has contracted the ebola virus. But I have to say I saw it coming.<br />
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I have spent a bit of time in hospitals, for the births of my seven babies, and a few trips to the ER for stitches as those babies grew through childhood, and a few random surgeries for the kids over the years. The things I observed in my time in hospitals have absolutely frightened me.<br />
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I am not a germ-a-phobe, but I do understand the basic principles of microbiology and infection control. Most of what I have seen in hospitals runs counter to these basic truths of science.<br />
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My son had a minor nose surgery last winter, and because of some lingering nausea, we ended up spending the night at the hospital. Over and over, my son would throw up, a gloved nurse would help him and clean him up, and then go over and type on a keyboard to document the event. Yep, with the same gloves she used to drop that emesis bag into the trash can.<br />
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When I was in the ER six years ago for some sudden and severe abdominal pain, I had a nurse come in, glove up, touch about 20 things in the room, pick up a stool that I am sure had never been wiped down, and then proceed like she was going to get my IV started. I asked her if she could please change her gloves. She gave me the crustiest look I have ever seen in my life. She took off her gloves, left the room, and I didn't see her again. Apparently, that was unreasonable for a patient to think that gloves that had just touched everything in the room, including the bottom of a stool, should not be the same gloves that open sterilized IV tubing and then puncture my skin with a needle.<br />
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Each time I have stayed overnight in a hospital after giving birth, I was stunned as I watched the housekeeping staff come into my room. They already had gloves on, which they used to open my door. Then they emptied the trash, opened the dirty linen basket and removed bloody sheets, picked up the mop and "cleaned" the floor with the same water in the bucket used for the room just before mine, then went over to wipe down the toilet and sink area with the same cloth. All with those original gloves on. And then the housekeeper was off, pushing the cleaning cart with those same dirty gloves to "clean" another room.<br />
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It seems in the healthcare world, gloves are seen only as a barrier to keep the wearer protected from infection. Yes, that is one major purpose to be sure. But the bigger part of the picture is that gloves should be used as a disposable barrier for infection control. <br />
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To healthcare workers, I ask: Go ahead and put those gloves on to take care of me but then immediately dispose of the gloves before touching ANYTHING else, including me, the bed, the keyboard, the doorknob, the curtain, or the new sheets you need to put on the bed. If you have to change your gloves 8 times in 2 minutes, then do that. Please, throw away your dirty gloves before you touch anything else. Because although you are protected from the germy stuff, that bedpan you just emptied has contaminated your gloves, and when you touch the bedrails with those gloves on, you have just spread the contamination to the patient's bed.<br />
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I guess I am super sensitive to this because of my husband's job. He is a dentist. He wears gloves. A lot of gloves. How would you like it if you went to the dentist and he left the same gloves on all day? My husband might start a filling on you, and then decide he needs to get a different bit or polishing disc on his handpiece. Does he leave his gloves on to open the drawers and look for what he needs? No way! He takes off his gloves, throws them away, and then finds what he needs, and re-gloves. Probably at least six times per patient. It's called basic infection control.<br />
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Anyway, I am sure when it comes down to it, we will discover that this poor nurse in Texas did absolutely everything right when caring for the Ebola patient (which is a whole other rant I could go on). My guess is that is was another co-worker who used dirty gloves to touch something in that room--from the light-switch to the bed to the stack of clean diapers--because it would have been too much of a bother to change gloves one more time. My gut tells me that this poor nurse touched something that should reasonably have been expected to be sterile, and it wasn't.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17686894853035348341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116089066286397255.post-26416270392290212412014-05-08T15:31:00.000-07:002014-05-08T15:31:33.361-07:00One long year<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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What a year. A really long, hard year. One year ago I had seven kids still at home, a dad, and a grandpa.<br />
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I haven't seen my kid in a year, Aubrey is staying at college for the summer, and it has been 11 months since I last talked to my dad.<br />
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The last time I saw all my kids together was on Joel's birthday last year. Abram was leaving at 4AM the next morning, so it was a very bittersweet birthday for Joel--he got to blow out the candles and open some presents, but my heart was definitely not in it.<br />
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When Abram left, lots of people would say, "Oh, it goes by so fast." But I had one good friend who said, "Don't listen to anybody. It doesn't go by fast. It just sucks." Yep.<br />
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I thought waking up the kids to say goodbye to Abram at 4AM on May 1st last year was the hardest thing I had ever done. It was so hard to send my kid away for two years, and to see all of his little siblings crying because he really is the best brother ever and we would all miss him. But I knew I had to let him go, and there was truly no other place I would rather have him be than on a mission.<br />
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Letting Abram walk away into the airport last year was so hard. But that was nothing. I discovered six weeks later that some things are much harder than that.<br />
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Like when you get a call telling you that your amazing, perfect, fun, healthy, fit dad unexpectedly passed away and nobody knows why. Suddenly having Abram gone was not a big deal. I would see him in two years. My dad was gone from this earth forever. Heartaches all hurt, but my dad dying hurt more than anything I have ever experienced, and more than anything I could have imagined. All of these trials absolutely brought me to my knees, and only through Christ's atonement, and the comforting of the Holy Spirit was I able to get through. Speaking at my Dad's funeral was the hardest thing I have ever done. It should have been impossible. But with God's help, I made it through actually sort of coherently at that. The night before the funeral I did not sleep at all. But whenever I would be on the point of tears and sadness, my heart would suddenly fill with the most powerful love and peace I have ever known. All night long I thought, I felt, but I did not cry. I truly was being comforted by heavenly power.<br />
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I heard a description of courage this year that really struck me. Courage is doing what you have to do when there is no other option. Absolutely. I learned to be courageous this year.<br />
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Anyway, Abram is awesome. It is not a big deal that he is gone now, and the real heart-wrenching of him first leaving is just a faint memory. The time has not gone fast for me, but each weekly email from him makes everything worth it. Tomorrow he will be 20 years old, and he is in very good hands with his Mexican family who are planning to make the day special for him. I am so grateful that he has people who love him all around him.<br />
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Aubrey has plentiful opportunities for work this summer in her college town. She is happy and enjoying her independence living off campus. She is appreciative and grateful for everything we have given her or taught her. What more could I want?<br />
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My mom always used to say, "Life is hard, and then you die." My grandpa used to say, "Kwicherbellyakin!" I always knew to never expect life to be a cakewalk, and that things would always be hard. There is no easy road, and everything we go through is part of making us who we are, and who we need to be to eventually return to our father in heaven. I have tried to remember that over this past year. I hope I am a little stronger, a little kinder, and a little more resilient than I was one year ago.<br />
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But I still miss Abram. And Aubrey. And my dad. And my grandpa. But they are all where they need to be. And I am here where I need to be, trying to make each day awesome and memorable for five awesome kids I still have at home.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17686894853035348341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116089066286397255.post-85312595408033796122014-05-08T09:50:00.000-07:002014-05-08T09:50:16.803-07:00Home again<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Our trip to Boston was so incredible. It was fun because it was a vacation, but it was so deeply moving and healing as well. From the time we touched down in Boston, we were greeted by total strangers and signs everywhere welcoming us back to Boston. Mark was wearing his Boston jacket from last year, which is a natural conversation starter. The whole city was alive with a spirit of strength and rebirth. Boston needed the runners to come back, and the runners needed the city of Boston to show its strength by making the marathon go on as planned. We cried more in the 10 days of our trip than I ever would have guessed. The Boston runners would find each other, hug and cry and tell their stories of what had happened to them last year, or what motivated them to get to Boston this year.<br />
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One of the most touching experiences was at The Old South Church. They have a knitting group there who started what they thought was a small project. They wanted to thank the runners who were coming back and to "wrap them up in courage and love" to go on with the race this year. They started out with a goal of gathering 300 scarves to give to runners. Word spread quickly and they ended up with 7300 handmade scarves from all 50 states and 10 countries. People just wanted to do something kind, and to help the runners heal from the wounds of last year. So any runner could go to the church, which is right at the finish line where the first bomb exploded last year, and the volunteers there wrapped the runner up in a scarf, gave them a hug and told them they were loved and appreciated. Seeing thousands of runners all around Boston in their bright jackets and blue and gold scarves around their necks was really, really touching.<br />
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Everywhere we went, Mark found new friends. People just wanted to talk. They wanted to share. Runners and spectators alike were all just so happy to be there. The police thanked us for coming back. The shop owners thanked us for coming back. The city was entirely united. The Boston Police were everywhere as a show of strength and unity. They were helpful and kind and so gracious.<br />
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I couldn't help but think that if this same thing had happened in Portland, that would have been the end of the marathon. While Boston has the city motto of "BOSTON STRONG," Portland has the motto of "Keep Portland Weird." If this had happened in Portland, we would have had groups out protesting the commercialism of the race, or protesting in support of the bombers, and the city would have spent millions of dollars in studying what Portland had done to offend these terrorists, millions more training Police to be more tolerant. The crazy but vocal minority runs things in this town. And the mayor is one of them. The Portland Police bureau is full of heroes who would have acted the same way the Boston police did in the aftermath of the bombing last year. They put their lives on the line every day to protect us. But they get no respect. In Portland if a cop has to use his gun to take out an armed or dangerous bad guy, the cop loses his job and the entire bureau undergoes sensitivity training.<br />
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I say this not to complain (luckily I live in my happy little suburb and out of the idiocy of inner Portland), but just to praise the citizens of Boston. They were the phoenix rising from the ashes. Better, more beautiful and stronger than ever.<br />
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Between the crying spells, we did have a lot of fun. Mark had been injured, and this run was not about a time goal for him, but about going and enjoying the run and healing along the journey. That's exactly what happened. He ran all 26.2 miles side by side with a friend, and he loved every minute.<br />
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After the race, we stayed in Boston for the rest of the week. It was so therapeutic to see Boston return to normal, and to then leave it as the beautiful city that it is, rather than the war zone we left last year.<br />
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Any trauma or bad images we had in our brains has been replaced by happy experiences and beautiful things. The bad stuff happened, and it is somewhere deep inside our brains filed under "experience", but our memories of Boston are all good now. The blood and the smoke have been replaced by happy runners and a resilient city.<br />
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And we are going back next year. Now for pictures.<br />
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Our good friend from BYU and Omaha days took us one day down to Providence, RI to see the mansions. I absolutely loved it.</div>
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Thank you Phillip and Summit for an amazing adventure!<br />
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I took this photo of Meb as he ran in front of me on his way to win the whole thing!<br />
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Mark ran the entire race with his friend Keith.<br />
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Stephen ran faster than Mark. He really had a goal and made it happen.<br />
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This Boston police officer was across from us last year, and was right in front of the 2nd bomb when it exploded after we left the street. My niece told him about how she had gone and stood in the same spot as last year to show she wasn't afraid. He took of his Boston Strong ribbon and gave it to her.<br />
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Stephen, Mark and our friend Eric after the traditional night-before bib pinning.<br />
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<br />Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17686894853035348341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116089066286397255.post-52767971367513685372014-04-16T14:41:00.001-07:002014-04-16T14:41:07.039-07:00One year later<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's been one year since the bombings at the Boston Marathon. It's been quite a year. We were so blessed that day to be kept out of harm's way when we were literally sitting across the street from bomb #2.<br />
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My life has never been the same. Mark has never quite been able to wrap his brain around what happened. I have never been able to understand how evil could exist to such a degree that a man could walk up, set a bomb down next to a small child, and walk away. My children who were with me that day were greatly affected. Joel has a hard time being in crowds now without panicking.<br />
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In the months after the bombs, Mark had "bomb dreams." He had (and still does have) survivor's guilt, and what I have coined as "Finisher's Guilt." I was more of the mindset, "Well, that happened and we are fine now, so let's move on." But Mark has struggled with that moment for a year now.<br />
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I thought I was OK. I was looking forward to this upcoming trip to Boston. And then when I started to pack my suitcase yesterday, the emotions just started flowing. It had never occurred to me that sometimes a vacation doesn't have a happy ending. I started to remember the sounds and smells of that day last year. I thought about waiting in our hotel room with everyone I loved safe and sound, while others were out on the streets searching for their family and friends who had not been able to finish the race.<br />
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I can still hear the bombs. I can still hear the sirens.<br />
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But one thing I can also hear is my cell phone. I have a new phone now, but I haven't been able to part with my old phone. Whenever I see its sparkly blue case, I think about that day in Boston. I think about my Dad being the first one to try to call and see if we were OK. I think of the hundreds of alert tones I heard as close friends and distant acquaintances all were eager to hear that we were OK. I think of typing as fast as I could on that little screen trying to reply to everyone, and having 5 more texts come through in the meantime. I love that old phone. It reminds me that I am loved.<br />
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A lot has happened in the last year. Right after Boston, my son left on a mission for 2 years. The next month, my Dad died very suddenly and unexpectedly. My daughter moved away to go to college. My neighbor died in a tragic motorcycle accident. I have cried more in the last year than all of my life together.<br />
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But I know I am loved. I know things will work out. Bad stuff happens and we keep going forward because we are strong. The struggle is the part of life that makes us strong.<br />
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I am excited to be there right at the finish line again this year to see Mark and his brother finish the race safely. I hope that they can put their demons behind them. I can't wait to see Boston stand strong and together once again.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17686894853035348341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116089066286397255.post-12418382274989384072014-01-14T16:23:00.000-08:002014-01-14T16:24:24.003-08:00Mean momWe had the funniest thing happen at our house last week. Mark installed a pull-up bar in our exercise room and the kids were taking turns on it using a band to assist them. Zachary had freaked out on his first turn because he felt like he was 100 feet in the air. He was actually only about 4 inches off of the stool. So savvy got my iPad to film Zack and show him that he was being a big chicken.<br />
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Well, his dismount went terribly wrong, and Savvy got it all on film.</div>
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I was laughing so hard that I honestly could not help Zack get out of his situation! Mean mom.</div>
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Aubrey wasn't here but she laughed so hard about the video that she made a page on her blog post about it. It is one of my favorite cartoons she has ever drawn.</div>
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Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17686894853035348341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116089066286397255.post-88893946338311926012014-01-14T11:19:00.001-08:002014-01-14T11:19:55.166-08:00My missionary<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb_YWCAkrxFAoQxhptsDjcYtbBrb3b6sT_1zAE8LzsA6gCDaSSPHfFWJs6aHjmj-ujaXiI8xe_aeL1QQ1C7NPxzHq2Nrd9-pR0sGtMRhMx-A14dYK1rcIoDd8kVQ9grbMsC4Oky0rDjHY/s640/blogger-image--1336253841.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb_YWCAkrxFAoQxhptsDjcYtbBrb3b6sT_1zAE8LzsA6gCDaSSPHfFWJs6aHjmj-ujaXiI8xe_aeL1QQ1C7NPxzHq2Nrd9-pR0sGtMRhMx-A14dYK1rcIoDd8kVQ9grbMsC4Oky0rDjHY/s640/blogger-image--1336253841.jpg"></a></div>When Abram left on his mission last May, I thought letting him go was the hardest thing I had ever done. I learned throughout last year that there are some things much more gut-wrenching.<div><br></div><div>His weekly emails make my life. I can't function on Mondays until I hear from him, and I love to catch him online and go back and forth with emails for a few minutes. Mexico is the best place I can image him spending 2 years, and I am so grateful that he had the desire to serve a mission, and that I had the courage to let him go.</div><div><br></div><div>He has been gone nearly 9 months, and I have a whole bunch of Mexican Facebook friends now. I know he is well loved and being taken care of. Missions are awesome.</div>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17686894853035348341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116089066286397255.post-26208699268164078952014-01-09T15:34:00.001-08:002014-01-09T15:34:37.988-08:00Je parle français<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5sU-nNiDLhauZb9vn4bvryo726g8OKY2RxNKDbehBavoDjBjw1Km9hXzXCni3nABaNgJUMNLi-Bx_HjXHGunUyE1mslOW3obhmR0QAuIyhZF_a29-zvPjo0RYt0CsriYrfjU_n6s1fkg/s640/blogger-image--1174388808.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5sU-nNiDLhauZb9vn4bvryo726g8OKY2RxNKDbehBavoDjBjw1Km9hXzXCni3nABaNgJUMNLi-Bx_HjXHGunUyE1mslOW3obhmR0QAuIyhZF_a29-zvPjo0RYt0CsriYrfjU_n6s1fkg/s640/blogger-image--1174388808.jpg"></a></div>One thing I am so grateful for is that my dad taught me to love languages. He always had cassette tapes of languages in the car and at our house. He learned German on his mission and for the rest of his life he would light up whenever found someone to speak German with. And then he tried to learn a little of every other language he could.<div><br></div><div>Although my German never progressed beyond singing Stille Nacht and O Tannenbaum, I did learn French. For 5 years in school I took French. It is still in my brain, and I love to use it, although I am afraid to speak it.</div><div><br></div><div>My senior year I switched to Spanish and I ate it up. I love Spanish. I don't know much, but I am working on it.</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>I really love to sub for French and Spanish classes at the high school. It's something that makes me happy.</div>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17686894853035348341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116089066286397255.post-65687157935290787572014-01-09T15:08:00.003-08:002014-01-09T15:08:25.131-08:00Paper projects<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I would like to think my kitchen is always clean. It's not. I really have this thing about being able to see the entire counter in order to be OK. But I have two crafters who live here who keep the counters very, very....crafty.<br />
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Zack and Savanna have two kitchen cupboards full of paper, scissors, buttons, glue, popsicle sticks, pompoms, etc. They are always making stuff. So I just sort of get used to seeing the counters with a pile of craft materials on them.<br />
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Someday that won't happen any more and I know I will miss it. So I am trying to appreciate the "craftiness" while it still lives in my house.<br />
<br />Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17686894853035348341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116089066286397255.post-27467775712505834792014-01-06T20:09:00.000-08:002014-01-06T20:09:19.476-08:00Mon beau sapinRoi des forêts, que j'aime ta verdure.<br />
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I have some pictures from our Christmas tree adventure this year. It was 19 feet tall, and yes, we brought it home on top of the minivan again.<br />
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Lots of fun, but a little more difficult missing our two oldest children to help lift it onto the car, drag it into the house and then get it upright. Good thing Mark is so handy on ladders, because he is very good at lighting up a tree.<br />
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Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17686894853035348341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116089066286397255.post-387328275091824042014-01-06T19:36:00.003-08:002014-01-06T19:36:59.783-08:00HAPPY New YearLet's just say that 2013 was difficult. Too many sad things and way too many goodbyes. I have been in a sort of funk recently. Things seem tough right now. And today I decided I need to start focusing on things that are awesome and fun, and hopefully the things that are worrying me right now will seem less ominous and impossible in the process.<br />
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Jacob has a new banjo and I love hearing him figure out a new instrument. It has a happy sound and Jacob is super talented. </div>
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Savanna dressed up like a granny on Saturday night and did a very entertaining impromptu skit. </div>
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Noah is my shooting buddy. I am so thankful to live on our property where we have a shooting range in the back. Noah is so cute. </div>
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It's pretty fun and therapeutic to shoot. We used the 22s this day and shot up the gingerbread house, and all the aging produce I could find in the fridge. It was a spectacular mess.</div>
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I got to talk to Abram on Christmas. It had been almost 8 months since I had seen his cute face and heard his nerdy laugh. I love my missionary!</div>
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Zachary is an angel. Everything he does is cute and very artistic. He loves to have me read him Spanish children's books. </div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Aubrey was home for 3 weeks, and we had so much fun with her. I loved hearing Jacob and Aubrey playing the piano and singing together.</span></div>
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Joel makes everything interesting. He was such a helper cutting down our big Christmas tree and getting it into the house.</div>
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Aubrey learned how to make meringue mushrooms for our Buche de Noel. She also became a wild and crazy knitter over her time at home with us. It was pretty much a 3 week long party.<br />
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Savanna helped me roll up and decorate the Buche de Noel.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixeLcU8qxwMbdnmGNyhSFOx6EyTDGJCB-Vy1x72tIXqdmorDbpeRSXuHSOGJ2_aHhHSXELq4L93XYvXYtSfni8fsqaoKaqWzXsPcMKWzonM58VawVRp8olZeTzVjStY4apHOos7TzqQtY/s1600/photo+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixeLcU8qxwMbdnmGNyhSFOx6EyTDGJCB-Vy1x72tIXqdmorDbpeRSXuHSOGJ2_aHhHSXELq4L93XYvXYtSfni8fsqaoKaqWzXsPcMKWzonM58VawVRp8olZeTzVjStY4apHOos7TzqQtY/s1600/photo+(2).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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Lots of happy things to think about and remember. My kids are pretty dang cool, and I love each of them forever.</div>
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Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17686894853035348341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116089066286397255.post-21802339173914111892013-11-19T08:19:00.001-08:002013-11-19T08:19:36.588-08:00Lunch making<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRf7iTppnaLsHs21LcljtDdQYHQCOlWET_HjzjFbsQiev80hauKQDQoBEwlOsOdoqB6tDelBtLj8oYfecBRB6hbpW1cXjkaoOko6v8Mi9JE985Szu4jV0T4ZURWyy5TEnuhYYOckXYYNw/s640/blogger-image-1333758775.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIEI2cZzj7Yr_XVu2wHpxk1xbwvn9iar4Pu_SlYRyG9gg73kJxfDIwIGEZ5_-yeus9VzagPb3j3NCCLQjzuLze-pOSf5N19CXYvZlk-_4E5Tn4RV9LwIGHvQtuU2qlQu8-54lMpDCj_KM/s640/blogger-image--132470528.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIEI2cZzj7Yr_XVu2wHpxk1xbwvn9iar4Pu_SlYRyG9gg73kJxfDIwIGEZ5_-yeus9VzagPb3j3NCCLQjzuLze-pOSf5N19CXYvZlk-_4E5Tn4RV9LwIGHvQtuU2qlQu8-54lMpDCj_KM/s640/blogger-image--132470528.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">It is no secret that I do not love making lunches. Of course, I am down to five kids at home now, so it is not as big of a chore as in the days of making seven lunches. I just know how gross the school lunches are, and the kids are very appreciative of the lunches I made for them. So despite my negative attitude I go through the repetitive motions every school day to make five lunches.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I was talking to a friend of mine recently about this. My friend is an interesting person--very mystical and eastern-thinking. She told me that every time I use my hands to make lunches for the kids, I am sharing my energy and love with them, and it is transferred to them through the food, and the kids will feel that love. Sometimes she says some weird things, but she is usually right. She went on to tell me that when mothers use their hands to do everyday things for our kids, such as laundry or helping with homework, we are literally transmitting love through our hands to them. Let's hear it for Chi!</div><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRf7iTppnaLsHs21LcljtDdQYHQCOlWET_HjzjFbsQiev80hauKQDQoBEwlOsOdoqB6tDelBtLj8oYfecBRB6hbpW1cXjkaoOko6v8Mi9JE985Szu4jV0T4ZURWyy5TEnuhYYOckXYYNw/s640/blogger-image-1333758775.jpg"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Anyway, it got me thinking. Does Noah realize that I have always squeeze mustard onto his sandwich in the shape of a heart? Do the kids know how much I love them because I make homemade chocolate frosting for their graham crackers? Sliced cucumbers and ranch, fruit snacks, pudding pack, applesauce, a sandwich, Capri Sun, and graham crackers with frosting. I don't do anything cute or fancy, but I came to realize that I was sending a lunchbox of love <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">with them out the door each morning. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">But did my kids care? Do they have a clue? Savanna answered that for me quite unexpectedly a few weeks ago. She came home one day and said, "There is this one girl at lunch, and every time she opens her lunchbox, I can just tell that her mom doesn't love her." </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I asked what she meant. I didn't expect her answer. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">"Well, her mom fills it with ORGANIC this and ALL NATURAL that. You just let us have good food. Her mom would never let her have graham crackers with frosting."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAoRk4aojG5imGdBJHmaiyf8AaOgswKVV3k739qIbx3fdmpKv-hHt1wRBwDipJsBjU8MvNuo4GZL8f66As8456zexqur52TF45JJMKSdcY8Eusr5ZZufYhEp4p1Pt7OgnobMuUQToW-90/s640/blogger-image--230044932.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAoRk4aojG5imGdBJHmaiyf8AaOgswKVV3k739qIbx3fdmpKv-hHt1wRBwDipJsBjU8MvNuo4GZL8f66As8456zexqur52TF45JJMKSdcY8Eusr5ZZufYhEp4p1Pt7OgnobMuUQToW-90/s640/blogger-image--230044932.jpg"></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17686894853035348341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116089066286397255.post-47289912214424786182013-11-18T09:55:00.001-08:002013-11-18T09:55:29.921-08:00Girls Party 2013<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2DuNqiaxM-O2BVImkKmbz69mg3huR8X4ZR2RfCS50pJkWN11fEnp-Ar-BCG6zE3SNwPbYqj7pzlIbNC-6sLoD2BdQaP3FzzqEurDARh750wGuWVdhv-jjjyTJcQ_KgHtcXx9kZSb5TEI/s1600/Jill.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2DuNqiaxM-O2BVImkKmbz69mg3huR8X4ZR2RfCS50pJkWN11fEnp-Ar-BCG6zE3SNwPbYqj7pzlIbNC-6sLoD2BdQaP3FzzqEurDARh750wGuWVdhv-jjjyTJcQ_KgHtcXx9kZSb5TEI/s320/Jill.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
Last weekend I escaped to sunny southern Utah for the annual Bradley girls party. It did not disappoint. I suppose I was too busy knitting and talking to take any of my own pictures, so I stole some from others.<br />
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The weekend is always filled with lots of good food, crafting, talking, knitting, and quilting. It's pretty much my kind of party.<br />
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Two of my favorite quotes from the party this year:<br />
"If it's cute and fun, I just buy it!"<br />
"I didn't know I was going to make a quilt today." <br />
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Lindsey made the most delicious chocolate bowls filled with chocolate mousse. Maybe the best dessert ever. I mean, you get to eat the bowl.... how cool is that? AND it's chocolate. Genius.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQNZgTlIdhfNO8Vk8Muumwp65KTef4T6wYnqx6tAWqteMhjyLVwt7fNPgRxOp8RMdlIIc3pX4tyJ94IrEY9iyj2HH-Xeh_c8GAQodTgD0Ne2tbtPTMsRZb4Uab0g3I7F2FCtoMfLDVAek/s1600/Best_Dessert.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQNZgTlIdhfNO8Vk8Muumwp65KTef4T6wYnqx6tAWqteMhjyLVwt7fNPgRxOp8RMdlIIc3pX4tyJ94IrEY9iyj2HH-Xeh_c8GAQodTgD0Ne2tbtPTMsRZb4Uab0g3I7F2FCtoMfLDVAek/s320/Best_Dessert.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Crafting and chatting.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJvimjcLwtZoqs88pEgXVPQLB25P8Ogc-AM8Lai5SeFAZ7u_-CqpTRUXpDo51fykBdsbLY9nfoBMrtzwi9pMpP4XeAsYL3avmCNEXkhTUJAwtoEnG6zCShAQjaow3RzJRQaIUQgEKrCrI/s1600/Crafting_and_chatting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJvimjcLwtZoqs88pEgXVPQLB25P8Ogc-AM8Lai5SeFAZ7u_-CqpTRUXpDo51fykBdsbLY9nfoBMrtzwi9pMpP4XeAsYL3avmCNEXkhTUJAwtoEnG6zCShAQjaow3RzJRQaIUQgEKrCrI/s320/Crafting_and_chatting.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Always a lot going on all over the house.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Fj9ZmWEnJun-BtVD4A3VkEyI3xPsKHPy_x8dU2kCtxofynXUjsI-eQyb9l3ebRbw2_ctYb1R0si2nbkWarOWje1GYHCy6y-VLTFpu8i8AxMSEDzJVJ7Trg9Yp3DLVg0YGCtis02jlBM/s1600/Lots_of_action.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Fj9ZmWEnJun-BtVD4A3VkEyI3xPsKHPy_x8dU2kCtxofynXUjsI-eQyb9l3ebRbw2_ctYb1R0si2nbkWarOWje1GYHCy6y-VLTFpu8i8AxMSEDzJVJ7Trg9Yp3DLVg0YGCtis02jlBM/s320/Lots_of_action.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
One thing is for sure about the craft projects, is that they exponentially explode in quantity and complexity. This family is very good as mass-producing a craft, that is for certain. And if you need something knit, look no further. We've got you covered.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoHe8imhEe-SlS6deXDXEj6xh8RZsq7B3USGD4wp__RZhnIQNV4ERaN-lNmWYVtUQowP8IQaQJDymyR-08QlZjuaa5_B5KBwhYsD4yRvNfLbdR9CInLZuuGHvxErIuiFSm4vBTb61ee5k/s1600/mass_production...jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoHe8imhEe-SlS6deXDXEj6xh8RZsq7B3USGD4wp__RZhnIQNV4ERaN-lNmWYVtUQowP8IQaQJDymyR-08QlZjuaa5_B5KBwhYsD4yRvNfLbdR9CInLZuuGHvxErIuiFSm4vBTb61ee5k/s320/mass_production...jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
I tried a new cookie recipe this year, Salted Caramel cookies<br />
<ul>
<li class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredients">2½ cups flour</li>
<li class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredients">1 teaspoon baking soda</li>
<li class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredients">2 teaspoons cream of tartar</li>
<li class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredients">½ teaspoon ground cinnamon</li>
<li class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredients">½ teaspoon sea salt</li>
<li class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredients">1 cup unsalted butter, sliced</li>
<li class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredients">1¼ cup dark brown sugar</li>
<li class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredients">½ cup granulated sugar</li>
<li class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredients">1 large egg</li>
<li class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredients">1 egg yolk</li>
<li class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredients">1 tablespoon vanilla extract</li>
<li class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredients">1 tablespoon plain Greek yogurt</li>
<li class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredients">1 cup caramel squares, cut into ¼’s (or a bag of caramel chips if you can find them)</li>
<li class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredients">¼ cup granulated sugar</li>
<li class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredients">2 teaspoons ground cinnamon</li>
<li class="ingredient" itemprop="ingredients">Coarse Sea salt</li>
</ul>
<div class="ERSInstructionsHeader ERSHeading">
Instructions</div>
<ol>
<li class="instruction" itemprop="recipeInstructions">In a medium sized bowl, mix the flour, baking soda, cream of tarter, cinnamon, and set aside.</li>
<li class="instruction" itemprop="recipeInstructions">To brown the
butter, heat a medium saucepan to medium high heat. Add the sliced
butter, whisking frequently. You will notice the butter starting to
become frothy on the top and brown specks will start to form along the
bottom. You have to watch it closely because the turn happens quickly
and you don’t want it to burn. You will start to smell a nutty aroma and
once it turns to a brown color, remove from heat and let it cool to
room temperature.</li>
<li class="instruction" itemprop="recipeInstructions">While the butter is cooling, cut the carmel squares into ¼’s.</li>
<li class="instruction" itemprop="recipeInstructions">In a stand mixer,
combine the brown butter and brown sugar, and ½ cup granulated sugar.
(The ¼ cup sugar will be used for rolling in the cookies). Mix until
blended and smooth.</li>
<li class="instruction" itemprop="recipeInstructions">Beat in egg, yolk, vanilla and yogurt and mix until combined. Slowly add the dry ingredients until combined.</li>
<li class="instruction" itemprop="recipeInstructions">Form the dough into a ball and cover with plastic. Chill in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes or overnight.</li>
<li class="instruction" itemprop="recipeInstructions">Once you are ready
to bake preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Measure about 2 tablespoons of
dough and roll into a ball. Flatten the ball and place 1-2 caramel
squares inside (I suggest 3-4), wrap the cookie dough over the caramel and roll back
into a ball. Make sure it is completely covered so that the caramel
won’t stick to the pan.</li>
<li class="instruction" itemprop="recipeInstructions">Mix ¼ cup sugar
and cinnamon in a small bowl and roll each cookie in the mixture. Place cookies on a parchment lined cookie sheet 2 inches apart. Sprinkle
lightly with sea salt. (I used course sea salt)</li>
<li class="instruction" itemprop="recipeInstructions">Bake for 8-10
minutes, or until the edges turn lightly brown. The centers will be
soft. Allow to cool for 2-3 minutes, and transfer to a wire cooling rack
to cool completely.</li>
</ol>
Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17686894853035348341noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116089066286397255.post-27336372423670576562013-11-04T08:26:00.002-08:002013-11-04T08:26:35.397-08:00Monumental Marathon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUFmr5MbltGnMvXX5PrH3YaJQWxes9EzMvrEgpZ7_IQ7yIOH8FWTk2EG1MS56pkFuFt0uhSAq1orC4RzYbNfIj-adYbrk_tdTCyjlTLO1r7QefdSPctW6ayZ0dQjyEUtxH5I3f6O-PSsg/s1600/1380251_10202278675430642_2145858875_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUFmr5MbltGnMvXX5PrH3YaJQWxes9EzMvrEgpZ7_IQ7yIOH8FWTk2EG1MS56pkFuFt0uhSAq1orC4RzYbNfIj-adYbrk_tdTCyjlTLO1r7QefdSPctW6ayZ0dQjyEUtxH5I3f6O-PSsg/s400/1380251_10202278675430642_2145858875_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
We have returned from the great state of Indiana. I was not necessarily excited to visit Indianapolis. When I would tell people we were going to Indianapolis, they would say, "Why would you want to go there?" I would answer, "That's a good question." I would then explain that when we look for a marathon, we have 4 criteria, each met by the Monumental Marathon:<br />
1) It must be flat<br />
2) It must be near sea level<br />
3) It must be on a Saturday<br />
4) It must be BIG race----thousands of runners.<br />
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We left our five kids at home in the charge of my 17-year-old son. He insisted they didn't need a babysitter, and I figured between tracking his iphone and monitoring our home alarm system from my phone, I could keep pretty good tabs on where everybody was. This picture shows me being a good stalker-mommy making sure the kids were where they were supposed to be.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggMrR8D9kW2R_nVye93SfdscMT09eytapq6wI7UHZhr_EhwRrmWURpnMSHzylld7b3FbBzTDgLPzP2Pd5JpTzp7_xhR_SG6nNstP_sjn8JFaWWSH4aSZVyZWLN3qMgAeIB9HtDnZHFES4/s1600/IMG_4812.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggMrR8D9kW2R_nVye93SfdscMT09eytapq6wI7UHZhr_EhwRrmWURpnMSHzylld7b3FbBzTDgLPzP2Pd5JpTzp7_xhR_SG6nNstP_sjn8JFaWWSH4aSZVyZWLN3qMgAeIB9HtDnZHFES4/s320/IMG_4812.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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We arrived on Wednesday afternoon, and Mark got busy putting germ-free barriers on everything in our hotel room. He also wore a mask on the plane. He had trained hard, and he didn't want any microorganisms wrecking his race for him. I think if you wear a mask on a plane, that is the best way to get EVERYONE to stare at you. I think if he had been naked, he wouldn't have attracted as much attention.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMymDGPlxVGV-OrFy4nrvjOHKWZX_toqaylktiitx-VFQsuuaM64TOAM_71keSxxG5zQ1PMLgvy2y9852tSyfEXicNpqT1A8Boea1EW6xnuGSUwXdbpoozaNGPtuxqHdRppg8IbVcYjyM/s1600/1384042_10202265498901237_1419175567_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMymDGPlxVGV-OrFy4nrvjOHKWZX_toqaylktiitx-VFQsuuaM64TOAM_71keSxxG5zQ1PMLgvy2y9852tSyfEXicNpqT1A8Boea1EW6xnuGSUwXdbpoozaNGPtuxqHdRppg8IbVcYjyM/s320/1384042_10202265498901237_1419175567_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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We flew into a pretty awesome storm in Indianapolis, but that didn't slow me down. I was out walking the streets, and I was absolutely shocked to discover a beautiful, clean, awesome city. There are historical monuments and statues EVERYWHERE. The capitol building is smack dab in the center of </div>
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downtown, too. I loved walking the streets and getting to know the city a little bit.</div>
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Mark's brother Stephen met up with us the next day and had the hotel room next door. It is always fun to travel with Stephen, and we were so glad that he had decided to come run the race as well. The three of us went out to see part of the city so that I could show them some of the cool monuments I had discovered. This one in the very center of town is huge! Fountains, statues, a very tall tower, and lots of steps to climb. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4bquqX43YpslD28K65vWOm50T_cV-KusHqbxj3ST_qpJ7v55d1Oe_tp9QG-qKXX7pUNWo2p0pdT7gO68k657dvH9X0Rak8Y7W3rJ_tEddXAK1UphO3Q8YgO7p8hHUQTMRZRYhNb01K6Q/s1600/Attachment-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4bquqX43YpslD28K65vWOm50T_cV-KusHqbxj3ST_qpJ7v55d1Oe_tp9QG-qKXX7pUNWo2p0pdT7gO68k657dvH9X0Rak8Y7W3rJ_tEddXAK1UphO3Q8YgO7p8hHUQTMRZRYhNb01K6Q/s320/Attachment-1.jpeg" width="240" /></a><br />
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Mark and Stephen mostly rested their legs in the hotel room while I explored the city and brought back lunch and dinner for them.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz_s6cBIMUPOc-rXvuLuS8BtB0CwyiWLctukamCkJF3v-eFNyGh8fE9QtvaUszXyRY0Riy6Ejd8uT5vKwn0EEBexUhwWBl7CjPg0wUxp0CSWEbWhbuGnfux8QEyjbeou8VUlpU7kK_9UY/s1600/IMG_4807.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz_s6cBIMUPOc-rXvuLuS8BtB0CwyiWLctukamCkJF3v-eFNyGh8fE9QtvaUszXyRY0Riy6Ejd8uT5vKwn0EEBexUhwWBl7CjPg0wUxp0CSWEbWhbuGnfux8QEyjbeou8VUlpU7kK_9UY/s320/IMG_4807.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
In my exploration, I found this statue of young Abe Lincoln, and I fell in love with it. It represents the age that Abe would have been when his family moved from the back-woods of Kentucky to the back-woods of Indiana. Bare feet and a book in his hand. I love Abraham Lincoln, and I wished so much that I could find a miniature statue of this to bring home with me.<br />
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Friday night was the traditional pinning-of-the-bibs photo op. We got all dressed up to race, and I pinned the bibs on (which is my official job every time). We decided to go to the canal on the backside of our hotel for the pictures.<br />
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Race morning came, and we were up at 5:45 to eat our breakfast and get moving. The race began at 8:00, and it was a very cold morning. Luckily, our hotel was just a block from the starting line, so we stayed in our nice warm hotel room until it was just time to head to the starting line.<br />
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I loved seeing 13.1 miles of the city. It was beautiful, and the time actually went by quickly. Miles 4-7 are usually hard for me, because I get bored, and there is still so much longer to go. But I ended up chatting with a guy for those miles until he split off for the full marathon, and it made the time go so quickly. The whole pack around us was amazed when I told them I had 7 kids and had gained and lost 350 pounds over all those pregnancies. After mile 8, time just whizzed by, and before I knew it, I was in front of my hotel with 1/2 mile to go. I kicked it up and sprinted to the finish line. I guess that means I saved a bit too much for the end, but I ran 2:08:36, and I was happy. I hurried back to our hotel and got the camera and some warm clothes on, and then headed back to the finish line to get pictures of Mark and Stephen.<br />
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Mark ran the best race of his life. I was so happy to see him come down the road with a big smile on his face and a kick in his run. He felt great, and was so happy with his 3:03:28. That's a 7-minute-mile pace! He didn't even see me there with the camera, but he posed for me anyway.<br />
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Stephen came down the road about 20 minutes later with a smile on his face. He had also met his goal of qualifying for Boston again in 2015. He was happy, but he was hurting. He was 3:23:37.<br />
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It took me a while to find these brothers at the end. This is a very big race, and all the finishers were wrapped in emergency blankets and had the same hats on. I found them, and they were both so happy. They will be running Boston together in 2015!<br />
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<br />Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17686894853035348341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116089066286397255.post-34546552012470285772013-10-22T08:21:00.002-07:002013-10-22T08:21:39.226-07:00Catching upThe kids are busy with school, and I have been subbing a bit too much. I blocked out this week so that I could just hang out at home and do some things that need to be worked on. I have been painting, moving kids bedrooms, sewing, baking, cleaning, and organizing. It is fun to be in the high school, but it is more fun to be home. I love jobs on days where I am actually busy teaching English, math or French for a teacher who knows me and leaves actual plans for me. However, I had a couple of jobs recently where it was just babysitting and showing a video, and all I could think about was how much I could be getting done at home. Those days are usually torture for me. Some days like that are good because I can take my laptop and catch up on my accounting and get $160 for it, but most days like that I go crazy.<br />
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Yesterday I made Halloween pillowcases for my kids. I also mailed off packages to Abram and Aubrey. It was a fun day. <br />
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<span style="text-align: start;">Plus, it was Monday, which means I get to read Abram's email. It's the day I live for all week long. I just love knowing that my kid is still alive and well way up in the mountains of Mexico, and I love it when we are both online at the same time and can go back and forth for a little bit.</span></div>
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We have also been busy running. Mark and I have a race coming up next weekend. Last week we ran a local 15k, and Savvy ran the 5k. It was a fun family event. We made the boys come be our cheerleaders.</div>
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I was so happy to finish. I wasn't super fast, but I kept my 9:30 pace steady the whole race.<br />
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Mark ran 11 miles before the race, and then the 15k to make a 20-mile long run. Crazy marathon man.<br />
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Savvy is the toughest girl I know. She doesn't ever give up.<br />
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She marched right up to the front of the starting line!<br />
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Zack ran a 1k kids run, and he was in heaven. He is always smiling, and everything is fun to him.</div>
Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17686894853035348341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116089066286397255.post-61263360463780409452013-09-30T15:13:00.000-07:002013-09-30T15:13:06.312-07:00Farenheit 451<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I somehow escaped all my years of school without every having to read Farenhheit 451 by Ray Bradbury. Joel came home from school the other day with the book, and as soon as he had finished reading it, I started reading it and I couldn't stop.<br />
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I was amazed at the description of our modern society, with everyone more concerned with what's buzzing in their earbuds than the sounds and conversations of real life. The characters knew and cared more about their "TV families" than they cared or knew about the people they actually lived with. The whole book was just awesome, and eerie in the way it described our society today.</div>
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And then I got to the end. It was still awesome, but my mind totally switched from analyzing the societal parallels to something much more personal. <br />
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The book perfectly described my feelings of grief about the loss of my dad this past summer. I really think I am doing OK with my dad being gone (if there is such a thing--it is still horrible), but every now and then some memory will pop up, or I'll see something that reminds me of him and I cry. This part of the book made me cry. Sometimes things that remind me of him make me laugh. Like today when I happened to have an extra stylus in my computer bag at a school, and a teacher next door desperately needed one, I laughed. And I think my dad was smiling from heaven. My dad kept everyone he knew well-stocked with styluses.</div>
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Anyway, here are the beautiful words I read last night that made me think of my dad, and how lost I feel sometimes without him here. He made his mark on the world through the things he did, and I am so glad to have many things I can look at to make me think of my dad.</div>
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<span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1380566852405_2858" style="font-family: garamond, new york, times, serif; font-size: medium;">"When I was a boy my grandfather died, and he was a </span><span style="font-size: medium;">sculptor. He was also a very kind man who had a lot of love to give the world, and he </span><span style="font-size: medium;">helped clean up the slum in our town; and he made toys for us and he did a million </span><span style="font-size: medium;">things in his lifetime; he was always busy with his hands. And when he died, I </span><span style="font-size: medium;">suddenly realized I wasn't crying for him at all, but for the things he did. I cried </span><span style="font-size: medium;">because he would never do them again, he would never carve another piece of wood </span><span style="font-size: medium;">or help us raise doves and pigeons in the back yard or play the violin the way he did, </span><span style="font-size: medium;">or tell us jokes the way he did. He was part of us and when he died, all the actions </span><span style="font-size: medium;">stopped dead and there was no one to do them just the way he did. He was </span><span style="font-size: medium;">individual. He was an important man. I've never gotten over his death. Often I think, </span><span style="font-size: medium;">what wonderful carvings never came to birth because he died. How many jokes are </span><span style="font-size: medium;">missing from the world, and how many homing pigeons untouched by his hands. He </span><span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1380566852405_2877" style="font-family: garamond, new york, times, serif; font-size: 14pt;">shaped the world. He did things to the world. The world was bankrupted of ten million </span><span style="font-size: medium;">fine actions the night he passed on."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: garamond, new york, times, serif; font-size: medium;">"Everyone must leave something behind </span><span style="font-size: medium;">when he dies, my grandfather said. A child or a book or a painting or a house or a </span><span style="font-size: medium;">wall built or a pair of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand </span><span style="font-size: medium;">touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when </span><span style="font-size: medium;">people look at that tree or that flower you planted, you're there. It doesn't matter what </span><span style="font-size: medium;">you do, he said, so long as you change something from the way it was before you </span><span style="font-size: medium;">touched it into something that's like you after you take your hands away. The </span><span style="font-size: medium;">difference between the man who just cuts lawns and a real gardener is in the </span><span style="font-size: medium;">touching, he said. The lawn-cutter might just as well not have been there at all; the </span><span style="font-size: medium;">gardener will be there a lifetime."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: garamond, new york, times, serif; font-size: medium;">"Grandfather's been dead for all these years, but if you lifted my skull, by</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1380566852405_2890" style="font-family: garamond, new york, times, serif; font-size: medium;">God, in the convolutions of my brain you'd find the big ridges of his thumbprint. He</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: garamond, new york, times, serif; font-size: medium;">touched me. As I said earlier, he was a sculptor.</span><br />
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Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17686894853035348341noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116089066286397255.post-18981781348700634582013-09-15T18:22:00.001-07:002013-09-15T18:22:12.957-07:00Geology field trip<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Savvy's class was heading to central Oregon for a 2-day field trip to see some awesome things I have always wanted to see. I normally shy away from field trips, because parents come out of the woodwork for them. But this one was too tempting, and I jumped at the chance to go.<br />
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The teacher who planned it didn't do the best job. She drove the route twice this summer, and used her time frame to plan the trip. However, she forgot that a bus goes 55 miles per hour rather than 70 or 75 on the freeway in a car. She also forgot that stopping somewhere for 150 kids to use the restroom takes a bit longer than it does with a single carload of people.<br />
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The first day was way too much driving, and too much time at boring museums, which left not enough time for the real reason I went on the trip--the Painted Hills.<br />
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The first day we stopped in Fossil, Oregon to dig for fossils, which was awesome. Sadly, we were so behind schedule that we only had 30 minutes to do this. I could have done it all day.<br />
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Bugs trapped in amber.<br />
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Fossils!<br />
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I was loving the hammer and chisel action splitting rocks in half to find treasures.<br />
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We got to the Painted Hills just before sunset. It really was the most beautiful place in Oregon. I wanted to spend hours there, but I wasn't in charge. I am seriously taking my family back there this fall to thoroughly explore.<br />
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Red, green, yellow, white, blue. Every color of soil and rock formations here.<br />
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We made it to the town of our overnight stop about an hour and a half late. It was pitch black, and we were all starving and dying of thirst. I inhaled two slices of pizza, and then went to check out the sleeping accommodations. I knew the plan had been to stay on the gym floor of an elementary school. I came fully prepared to do so. But when I saw that the boys and girls were sleeping right next to each other in the same gym, and that the gym was not air-conditioned, I was not doing that. And I wasn't making Savanna do that either. I called the Best Western down the road. Savanna and I had the best night's sleep ever in a huge, comfy, cool room. We were asleep by 9:30.</div>
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We walked the 1.5 miles back to the school the next morning to join the group, and after many delays getting kids up, packed, fed, and lunches made, we were off to Smith Rock State Park.</div>
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It was magical. I loved everything about it. One teacher and I took a group of adventurous kids on a trip up a steep trail to see Monkey Face. It was awesome. Smith Rock is a caldera, with steep walls and rock columns remaining from an ancient volcano. It was simply incredible. I can't wait to take my family back to spend more time in this beautiful place.</div>
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Just a 500 foot drop. Of course, Savanna had to lie down and spit.<br />
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Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17686894853035348341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116089066286397255.post-5791998161974464282013-09-07T19:27:00.003-07:002013-09-07T19:27:58.520-07:00We love Logan!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We loved staying in Logan for a week. It was especially fun to stay on campus at the hotel. We basically took over the student center ever night and played games there. We also loved eating in the cafeteria! Good food, and Aggie Ice Cream every night.</div>
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One day we decided to head up to Preson, Idaho to track down Napoleon. The kids thought it was the best adventure ever.<br />
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My very smart children decided that Kneaders was the best place in the world to eat lunch. We are so glad that Mark had his camera with us one day and took these very flattering shots of us eating...</div>
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Zack was so happy to lose two teeth on our trip. Both of them from corn on the cob!<br />
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The kids loved ice blocking on Old Main. We got 2 blocks of ice, and they spent the next hour sliding down the hill and them climbing back up. Over and over and over.<br />
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We visited the Logan temple grounds. It is such a beautiful building. It always amazes me to see what beautiful buildings the pioneers were able to construct using such primitive tools!</div>
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I love my Savvy.<br />
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Savvy splashed Zack with some water from the fountain, and I love Zack's expression in this picture.<br />
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It was so strange to have only 4 kids with us as we went around town. Jacob stayed home to work, and so once Aubrey moved into her dorm, it was just 6 of us!</div>
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As we were staying 9 nights in the hotel, Savanna unpacked and moved right in.<br />
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Noah is pretty dang cute.<br />
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Sav and Joel found a chess game at the local mall.<br />
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Hotel living is pretty fun.<br />
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The bookstore has enough ipad minis for everyone to enjoy.<br />
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We took a trip to Lagoon one day, and Zack was a trooper. He went on every ride and loved it. It was a completely empty day at Lagoon, and so the kids went on soooo many rides. Finally, around 6:00, one last trip on Colossus was one ride too many. I saw the look on his face (above) and rushed over to the shrub bed. He puked. And puked. And puked. And then he puked 4 more times before we got in the car. And once in the car. And twice while we were stopped at Kneaders in Layton for dinner. He slept the whole way to Logan after that, and when we got back to the hotel, he was as good as new.<br />
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Zack is always interested in the leaves and plants.<br />
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The kids liked playing in this fountain/waterfall on campus.<br />
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It was sad to leave Aubrey, but really not too sad. She is at an awesome university, and she loves it. We miss her terribly, but she is just a phone call or text away. I am thrilled that she is away at college and doing just what she should be doing with her life!Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17686894853035348341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116089066286397255.post-6053303358359832232013-08-31T20:17:00.000-07:002013-08-31T20:17:21.070-07:00A true heroLast April, just a few days after the Boston Marathon bombings, Mark took this picture of me on the boat out to see the Statue of Liberty.<br />
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Luckily, I was sitting a row behind Mark and the kids. I was sobbing. I always get emotional when I see the Statue of Liberty, but I was a mess this particular day as the emotions of the terror attack combined with my love for the Statue and all she stands for turned me into one big crying mess.<br />
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The reason I love the Statue so much is because of my grandpa. We have always loved to listen to his stories from WWII. He was a decorated war hero. And not the kind of hero who gets awards from calling the shots off far from combat. He was right in the mess of everything--the Normandy invasion, the Battle of the Bulge, and his Hellcats was involved in the liberation of Buchenwald. He told most of those stories without much emotion. But one of the stories that always brought him to tears was the story of coming into NY harbor.<br />
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Here is a one-minute clip from a documentary my grandpa was interviewed for. You can see where I learned to love the Statue of Liberty.<br />
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<br />Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17686894853035348341noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116089066286397255.post-67184080120477873182013-08-26T06:49:00.000-07:002013-08-27T18:57:58.838-07:00My Grandpa<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My grandpa passed away yesterday morning at age 95 after a long and full life. He was such an inspiration of faith and courage. He and my grandma were married just days after Pearl Harbor, knowing full well that he would be drafted and sent off to war. While my grandpa was in Europe for the war, my grandma stayed with her parents and raised the son they had together before Grandpa was sent overseas. My grandpa commanded a squadron of M-18s across Europe, starting at Omaha Beach and ending on the east side of Germany 18 months later. Eventually they were reunited after the war's end and had 9 more children! The oldest of those 9 was my dad--the original baby boomer.<br />
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My friend sent me a message this morning about my grandpa that said, "What a sweet man who raised an even sweeter son." That summed it up perfectly. And it brought to mind a story.<br />
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My kids have a long list of stories my dad used to tell them. These stories came to be known as "Bad Robert" stories about some of the mischief my dad got into as a kid. Nothing major, just shooting windows out of a fish hatchery, installing a secret second phone through the basement ceiling, inadvertently causing a multi-car accident on 7th East when he was about 8, setting firecrackers up in the folding chairs of his sunday school class, and so on. Just the kind of monkey business a child of the 50s could get into without getting caught.<br />
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My favorite story is about strawberries.<br />
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My dad was about 5, and by that time my grandma had a house full of four little boys. My dad and his younger brother shared a bedroom just off of the kitchen. Grandma sent the boys into their bedroom to take a nap one day, but she forgot about several cases of strawberries she had just purchased that she had left on the dresser in that room. She was planning to make jam later that afternoon. Well, a bunch of strawberries and 2 small boys in a closed room was a recipe for disaster. First my dad and his brother started to eat the strawberries. Soon my dad picked up a strawberry that was what he described as "Squooshy." The squooshy-ness surprised him, and he flung the strawberry against the newly-wallpapered wall. He was astounded by the awesome shape the strawberry made as it splattered against the wall. He and his brother looked at each other, and they both knew what they had to do. The rest of those strawberries were soon catapulted against the wall. My dad said that if the berries were too firm, they would "pre-squoosh" them in their hands and then throw them at the wall--otherwise the berries just bounced off. They loved watching all the shapes the berries made as they hit the wall and splattered all over. Soon, Grandma could hear the commotion and laughter coming from the bedroom. She opened the door and could not believe what she saw. She started crying and scolded those boys. She was so upset about the wasted berries, the jam that wouldn't be, and also the incredible mess that she now had to clean up. She didn't know what to do with the boys, so in exasperation she said, "You just wait until your father gets home and see what he does with you."<br />
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Grandpa was a bricklayer, and arrived home at the end of a long day of physical labor. He was dirty, sweaty and tired. Grandma told him what mischief the boys had gotten into that day. Grandpa marched the boys into the bedroom to see the damage. The boys were expecting the worst, but my grandpa surprised everyone. He started laughing. Hysterically laughing at what his sons had thought up to do with those berries. He laughed at the mess. He laughed at the patterns the berries had made on the wall. He laughed at the trouble the boys had caused their mother. Through his laughter, he said, "I wish I had done something like that when I was a boy." What an example of love. He knew that the mess was temporary, that there would be another day for strawberry jam, but that his reaction to the situation would leave an everlasting imprint in the minds and hearts of his boys. To him, life was about much more than strawberries smashed on a wall. It was about family, forever, true love, and fun.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17686894853035348341noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116089066286397255.post-44237820564471143072013-08-22T07:47:00.002-07:002013-08-22T07:47:31.023-07:00Aubrey's blog<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Aubrey made a blog ( <a href="http://dearsavvy.blogspot.com/">dearsavvy.blogspot.com</a> ) so we can see all the fun adventures she will have this year at college. She and Savvy are the best sisters ever, and it is going to be sad to not have them together anymore. Her first post is for Savanna, but it is so cute I had to share it <a href="http://dearsavvy.blogspot.com/2013/08/dear-savvy.html">here</a>.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17686894853035348341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116089066286397255.post-17356852170114397862013-08-19T20:26:00.001-07:002013-08-19T20:26:12.637-07:00College adventureWe are in Logan this week taking Aubrey to USU. It has been a fun adventure so far.<br />
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On our first morning at the hotel, Savanna lost her brand new retainer in the trash. She and Aubrey did a little dumpster diving and saved the day when they found it at the absolute bottom of the trash.</div>
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Later that day at lunch, Zachary was complaining about how he couldn't eat his corn on the cob because his loose tooth was causing him pain. Mark reached over and in about 1/10 of a second, twisted the tooth right out. No blood, no pain. Zack was one happy dude.</div>
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We all made it safe and sound, and a little squished. In order to not drive two cars to Utah, we shipped Aubrey's stuff via UPS, and then everybody got one small bag and we drove my car. It was very cozy, especially because Aubrey couldn't live without her guitar, which took up almost all the cargo room behind the back seat. But we survived.</div>
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We all survived the journey, but Aubrey's boxes didn't do as well. I bought moving boxes at Home Depot. That was not the best idea. Aubrey's boxes all did make it to our hotel, but they were absolutely destroyed. I don't blame UPS at all, because one of the 4 boxes was a Nordstrom box, which was just as packed full and just as heavy, but it arrived without a scratch. Miraculously, all of Aubrey's things made it.... at least she hasn't noticed anything missing yet. The lesson is that Home Depot boxes may be inexpensive, but they are garbage and nobody should ever use them for shipping anything.<br />
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Savanna helped Aubrey get all moved into her room and to get things organized. If anyone ever needs help organizing, just talk to Savvy. <br />
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We got Aubrey all moved in on Saturday just in time to attend Cache Valley's annual cultural event, The Cache Bash. I had not ever been to a demolition derby before. It was fun, but very, very loud. It was incredible how absolutely crammed the stands were. Everyone in town was there!</div>
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I admit that it was hard for me to watch the crashes. It just hurt my tummy to see people racing toward each other on purpose. Eventually I got more comfortable watching, and by the final round I was cheering for a black Impala. One thing we learned is that old station wagons are pretty tough, and so is an old Impala.</div>
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Coming from Nike Town, and the land of Pre, we decided to go check out the university track. It wasn't very easy. The track is crammed somewhere between the football training field, a giant parking lot for the football stadium, and a soccer field. There was one tiny set of bleachers. It was no Hayward Field. But it was a nice track! The kids took a lap and practiced their high jumps.<br />
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Mark is loving the trees on campus. So much variety. He taught the kids how to tell a juniper tree from a cypress tree by looking at their berries. They thought it was pretty cool.<br />
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Then the kids climbed the pine trees. Yes, they are pine trees, and not fir, hemlock or spruce trees. The kids can tell you all about why pine trees are the best for climbing.<br />
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Today we had some fun, played UNO, ate waaaaay too much food at the cafeteria. That Aggie Ice Cream is just so good you keep going back for me.<br />
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Noah got a haircut at the official campus barber shop.<br />
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Aubrey has met new friends, and is having lots of fun being a college student. She met us for lunch today, but is pretty much into her groove and doing her thing. Which is awesome, because that's what we came here for. It will be sad to say goodbye, but we are so happy that she is here and learning what college is all about.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17686894853035348341noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5116089066286397255.post-12036641856623485532013-08-14T22:32:00.005-07:002013-08-14T22:32:55.559-07:00YW FunWhen the strawberries were in season at the beginning of June, we had a YW night where we made freezer jam. A lot of freezer jam. Basically I made the girls make my jam, and I sent them each home with a container to share with their families. It was a great night.<br />
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Each year, my week at YW camp is one of my favorite weeks of the year. This week, my unexpected trip to Utah for my dad's funeral made it so I had to miss most of the week at camp, but I made it for the last day. My job at camp is to be the raft guide, and the last day we have a course set up in the river that the girls have to do in a raft without me in the back yelling at them to paddle left, paddle right, etc. They were awesome, and after the week I had had, it was so nice to be at the river and with my girls again. I had time after the groups had all gone through to just sit in a raft on the river and think about everything. It was beautiful and peaceful.<br />
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A couple of weeks after YW camp, we actually went camping for 2 nights. Not the kind of camp where you sleep on a mattress in a cabin and walk to the dining hall to eat your delicious meal that the kitchen staff made for you. I'm talking about sleeping in a tent, cooking everything outdoors and really roughing it. Well, if flushing toilets and warm showers count as roughing it, that's what we did. It was a blast.</div>
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Tinfoil dinners are my favorite. Beef, zucchini, onions, carrots, potatoes, all roasted to perfection.</div>
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I loved swimming in the lake. Savvy is not in YW yet, but she thinks she is. She pretty much tags along on every activity and we all love it.</div>
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I seriously love to cook outside.<br />
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The view of the lake from up above was just amazing. It was a really fun camping adventure!</div>
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For years Aubrey has been begging to have a cupcake fight for an activity. I kept shutting her down, but for her very last activity, I finally let her have her way. The girls brought unfrosted cupcakes, and I just swirled cool whip on the tops rather than wasting perfectly good buttercream frosting. It was very messy, and the girls loved it. We set up plates of cupcakes all over the grass, and the girls all started in a bunch and when we said go, they ran for the cupcakes. I think the most fun part was watching them hose each other off.<br />
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We will see what kind of excitement the fall brings. I'm not into fancy froo-froo stuff for YW. We have learned lots of useful skills and had a lot of fun this year, though. I love my girls. And I love the women who work with me to make the magic happen for the girls.</div>
Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17686894853035348341noreply@blogger.com0