It Doesn't Get Any Better Than This

I had to share this story, it is one of my favorite crazy ones of the year. It started like this. . . In September, I had tickets to the General Relief Society Conference, so I invited a couple of friends, and we took the new train downtown. It was a wonderful conference, and afterward we set out to meet some friends for Lebanese food at a restaurant we had heard about.

We began walking and talking, but the closer we got to the restaurant the more I began rubbing my eyes and squinting. Finally, we all stopped, stared, and turned around looking for a candid camera. Seriously, any downtown brings out all different kinds of people, bless them all. You see people dressed in crazy clothes, or not a lot of clothes, but this was definitely something I was not prepared to see. All around us masses of people only clothed in their underwear emerged. I'm not kidding about the masses, I'm not talking about one or two people, I'm talking about people everywhere. They started pointing and laughing at us. Seriously, "the underwear people" as I like to call them started pointing and laughing at us. They affectionately called us the "clothes people." The closer we got to the restaurant, the closer we got to Gallivan Center and the home of the "underwear people" and their event. You see, the had an undie run. Yep, people of all shapes and sizes (I mean all) came downtown and ran to the capitol. They donated their clothes to the homeless and were running for all different causes, and to tell the leaders of Salt Lake, not to get their undies in a bunch. At least that is what I heard echoing from across the street. Now I think it is great idea to run for a cause, give clothes to the homeless, and they sure got attention, however, I personally have a hard time taking people who are only wearing underwear seriously, umm . . . . . .that and I'm a pretty big fan of modesty. One guy stopped us and asked me if I didn't feel awkward for having so many clothes on. He was wearing undies and the head of a wolf draped on his head and shoulders, It's true, I know because that is all I felt comfortable looking at. Seriously, the head of a wolf.

Gratefully, we rushed into the restaurant happy to find our friends and other people fully clothed. We were momentarily distracted from all of the craziness by the delicious smell of food, only to be brought back to reality by the clanging of music and the jingling of a belly dancer. Seriously, what are the odds? The food was delightful, I'm not going to lie about that, but it took about 3 hours to eat, not an exaggeration. (I know I tend to exaggerate, but this really is the truth.) And perhaps it seemed even longer because of the jingling of the belly dancer, and the fact that one of my friends couldn't stop sneezing, coughing, and wiping her eyes, or that my other friend couldn't eat and just sat and watched us, or it might have been the "delightful view" of the street and people prancing around in their undies.

As soon as our bill was paid, we ran hoping to catch the last train home. This caused us to run straight through the plaza/home base of the "underwear people" who giggled at our clothes, and called us the "conference people." It was definitely a new experience to be made fun of for wearing clothes. Luckily, we squeezed our way onto the full train, only to have two of the "underwear people" squeeze in next to us. If I were making a list, this would be reason number 17 why you should wear clothes. So awkward, so uncomfortable. Then this guy spoke to his girlfriend, "Man, we had to hop on this train, that guy out there was crazy." His girlfriend adamantly agreed, and at this moment my roommate and I both looked at each other and burst out laughing at this comment from two people wearing only tiny, sparkly underwear. I guess crazy is in the eye of the beholder. However, I quickly turned away and thought of something sad because with only underwear on I could see his muscles and didn't want to get pounded. We then focused on the screen and realized the last train to our stop had already left and this would only drop us off halfway. I honestly, couldn't stop laughing at this point. Gratefully, we had our cellphones and called a friend to pick us up. As the train bounced along, my friend continued to sneeze and cough, and I just kept on giggling. Seriously, you can't make this stuff up, nope it doesn't get any better than this.

Revolution

It is time to play catch up. . . . . so here goes.
In August we set up a family blog dedicated to being more healthy. We focused on eating better, exercising, getting enough sleep, managing stress, all kinds of things to make us more healthy. We each wrote a year long goal, and then put down goals for each month. We report how we have done at the end of the month. We’ve included healthy recipies, inspiration, and our latest racing news. We held our first family 5k the first of October and raced around the lake at Daybreak. It was soooo much fun. The kids loved it, and all of the adults did too. We can’t wait till spring to have another one. While it is all a work in progress, we are following this quote that we included on the back of our t-shirts "The miracle isn't that I finished. The miracle is that I had the courage to start."

Here are all of the participants posed before the big race. We were missing two of our fiercest competitors and can't wait for them to run with us in the spring.







Everyone lined up ready for the race to begin.


Ready, set, go. . . ..


And they're off.










Some of our first place finishers.


Victory!!!!!!


There is nothing we can't conquer!!!!

Rock, Paper, Scissors

We made sure we stuck together during the Halloween parade at school, because apart was awkward. Awkward, as in "Cool costume, um. . .yeah are you paper? Oh, cool. . . . .um. . . . . . .yeah."

Vegas Ragnar

I sometimes wonder what in the world I get myself into, and that is exactly what I was thinking two weekends ago when it was 85 degrees in Vegas and I was running straight up hills. I also had this thought at 2 in the morning while I was running on a desolate road, and again on my third run in the middle of the day after getting 2 hours of sleep. I swore to myself that I would never again in my life run a Ragnar, and then somehow driving home I heard myself telling one of my teammates that yeah, I just might run the Northwest Ragnar with them? ? ? And, although running 188 miles day and night is crazy, I don't know it was kind of a fun crazy.


Ragnar-You take 12 crazy people and they decorate two vans and dress up like zombies or wear tutus and Elvis costumes. Then they ring cowbells, and cheer through bullhorns. They jump up and down alongside the road, and dance to their own beat day and night, and it is crazy, but it is seriously fun.






(Somehow in the middle of the night we found ourselves going into a gas station for water, and the next thing you know we are doing the can-can with the clerk. Only at Ragnar when I have not slept.)




Van teammates-Crazy, fun ladies. Oh the stories I could tell.


The Scenery-Vegas was billed as having a "beautiful red rock" landscape. Hmmm. . . . .it seemed more like barren desert, but I guess that is beautiful in its own way?


Roadkills-You get one roadkill for every person you pass. How could I not take on the challenge?


Becoming tough- This headband says, "I eat hills for breakfast." which is about as far away from the truth as you can get. I hate hills, but they couldn't be avoided, and so I ate them as best I could and toughened up.


Running in the middle of the night-seriously the middle of the night. Craziest thing ever running at 2 in the morning with your headlamp on, a little tail light on the back and a reflective vest. However, I'm not going to lie it was my best run for two reasons. One, it was cool and serene, and I actually liked it. I just looked for the flashing red tail lights of the runners and waved at the vans stopped alongside the road cheering us on. However, the second reason it was my best run was because it was desolate and dark and I didn't want to get kidnapped. Fastest run in weeks. :)




Three runs in 24 hours- There is nothing that feels so good, as checking off each box as you finish a run in this marathon of runs.


The finish line!!!! As your last runner finishes, the whole team waits for them and then you all cross the finish line together. It really is a team effort. Loved it!!!!

It will be fun!!!

This will be me this weekend. (The one having "fun" not the one running over people in a van and going to jail,that would not be fun.) Craziness, I know.

Ha, Ha, Love it!

There are Just Some Things People Should not do

The other week I found myself in charge of a pie eating competition, which not only requires you to buy pies, sweet talk free bibs, and rally participants, but it also requires you to judge people stuffing squishy pies into their face. Nobody should be asked to watch, let alone judge something like that. Especially, someone who has a very weak stomach. Seriously, it was pretty gross, but I must admit I was holding my own. That is I was holding my own until, a hot shot guy looked up at me and smiled with whip cream oozing down his face. I think he thought he had found a sympathetic face, and so he moaned "I don't feel so well." This was of course followed by pudding dribbling out of his mouth. It was exactly the worse thing that could happen to me. I of course did what any weak stomach person would do. I started to gag, threw my roommate in front of me, and dashed off yelling at her to finish judging. In the end, this tiny looking lady won, without a drop of pie on her face. After everyone was cleaned up, I made my way back over to the contest. The guy now had a shiny clean face, and he came over to me and smiled. "I've never had a girl look at me before and want to throw up." He exclaimed. I tried to apologize, but that image kept entering my head. My roommate tried to make amends and piped up, "Oh don't worry, it's not you, she just has a weak stomach. She almost throws up every night when I talk to her while I'm brushing my teeth."(Which again is something people really should not do, it is gross.) However, he didn't hear this explanation because he was to busy running off to the root beer chugging contest, which again is really something people . . .

A Must Read

Loved this so much I wanted to archive it on my blog.

What teachers really want to tell parents
By Ron Clark, Special to CNN
updated 9:12 AM EST, Tue September 6, 2011

Editor's note: Ron Clark, author of "The End of Molasses Classes: Getting Our Kids Unstuck -- 101 Extraordinary Solutions for Parents and Teachers," has been named "American Teacher of the Year" by Disney and was Oprah Winfrey's pick as her "Phenomenal Man." He founded The Ron Clark Academy, which educators from around the world have visited to learn.

(CNN) -- This summer, I met a principal who was recently named as the administrator of the year in her state. She was loved and adored by all, but she told me she was leaving the profession.
I screamed, "You can't leave us," and she quite bluntly replied, "Look, if I get an offer to lead a school system of orphans, I will be all over it, but I just can't deal with parents anymore; they are killing us."

Unfortunately, this sentiment seems to be becoming more and more prevalent. Today, new teachers remain in our profession an average of just 4.5 years, and many of them list "issues with parents" as one of their reasons for throwing in the towel. Word is spreading, and the more negativity teachers receive from parents, the harder it becomes to recruit the best and the brightest out of colleges.

So, what can we do to stem the tide? What do teachers really need parents to understand?

For starters, we are educators, not nannies. We are educated professionals who work with kids every day and often see your child in a different light than you do. If we give you advice, don't fight it. Take it, and digest it in the same way you would consider advice from a doctor or lawyer. I have become used to some parents who just don't want to hear anything negative about their child, but sometimes if you're willing to take early warning advice to heart, it can help you head off an issue that could become much greater in the future.

Trust us. At times when I tell parents that their child has been a behavior problem, I can almost see the hairs rise on their backs. They are ready to fight and defend their child, and it is exhausting. One of my biggest pet peeves is when I tell a mom something her son did and she turns, looks at him and asks, "Is that true?" Well, of course it's true. I just told you. And please don't ask whether a classmate can confirm what happened or whether another teacher might have been present. It only demeans teachers and weakens the partnership between teacher and parent.

Please quit with all the excuses

The truth is, a lot of times it's the bad teachers who give the easiest grades, because they know by giving good grades everyone will leave them alone.
And if you really want to help your children be successful, stop making excuses for them. I was talking with a parent and her son about his summer reading assignments. He told me he hadn't started, and I let him know I was extremely disappointed because school starts in two weeks.


His mother chimed in and told me that it had been a horrible summer for them because of family issues they'd been through in July. I said I was so sorry, but I couldn't help but point out that the assignments were given in May. She quickly added that she was allowing her child some "fun time" during the summer before getting back to work in July and that it wasn't his fault the work wasn't complete.

Can you feel my pain?

Some parents will make excuses regardless of the situation, and they are raising children who will grow into adults who turn toward excuses and do not create a strong work ethic. If you don't want your child to end up 25 and jobless, sitting on your couch eating potato chips, then stop making excuses for why they aren't succeeding. Instead, focus on finding solutions.

Parents, be a partner instead of a prosecutor

And parents, you know, it's OK for your child to get in trouble sometimes. It builds character and teaches life lessons. As teachers, we are vexed by those parents who stand in the way of those lessons; we call them helicopter parents because they want to swoop in and save their child every time something goes wrong. If we give a child a 79 on a project, then that is what the child deserves. Don't set up a time to meet with me to negotiate extra credit for an 80. It's a 79, regardless of whether you think it should be a B+.

This one may be hard to accept, but you shouldn't assume that because your child makes straight A's that he/she is getting a good education. The truth is, a lot of times it's the bad teachers who give the easiest grades, because they know by giving good grades everyone will leave them alone. Parents will say, "My child has a great teacher! He made all A's this year!"

Wow. Come on now. In all honesty, it's usually the best teachers who are giving the lowest grades, because they are raising expectations. Yet, when your children receive low scores you want to complain and head to the principal's office.

Please, take a step back and get a good look at the landscape. Before you challenge those low grades you feel the teacher has "given" your child, you might need to realize your child "earned" those grades and that the teacher you are complaining about is actually the one that is providing the best education.

And please, be a partner instead of a prosecutor. I had a child cheat on a test, and his parents threatened to call a lawyer because I was labeling him a criminal. I know that sounds crazy, but principals all across the country are telling me that more and more lawyers are accompanying parents for school meetings dealing with their children.

Teachers walking on eggshells

I feel so sorry for administrators and teachers these days whose hands are completely tied. In many ways, we live in fear of what will happen next. We walk on eggshells in a watered-down education system where teachers lack the courage to be honest and speak their minds. If they make a slight mistake, it can become a major disaster.

My mom just told me a child at a local school wrote on his face with a permanent marker. The teacher tried to get it off with a wash cloth, and it left a red mark on the side of his face. The parent called the media, and the teacher lost her job. My mom, my very own mother, said, "Can you believe that woman did that?"

I felt hit in the gut. I honestly would have probably tried to get the mark off as well. To think that we might lose our jobs over something so minor is scary. Why would anyone want to enter our profession? If our teachers continue to feel threatened and scared, you will rob our schools of our best and handcuff our efforts to recruit tomorrow's outstanding educators.

Finally, deal with negative situations in a professional manner.

If your child said something happened in the classroom that concerns you, ask to meet with the teacher and approach the situation by saying, "I wanted to let you know something my child said took place in your class, because I know that children can exaggerate and that there are always two sides to every story. I was hoping you could shed some light for me." If you aren't happy with the result, then take your concerns to the principal, but above all else, never talk negatively about a teacher in front of your child. If he knows you don't respect her, he won't either, and that will lead to a whole host of new problems.

We know you love your children. We love them, too. We just ask -- and beg of you -- to trust us, support us and work with the system, not against it. We need you to have our backs, and we need you to give us the respect we deserve. Lift us up and make us feel appreciated, and we will work even harder to give your child the best education possible.
That's a teacher's promise, from me to you.

C.S. Lewis

Love this:

"No man knows how bad he is till he has tried very hard to be good. A silly idea is current that good people do not know what temptation means. This is an obvious lie. Only those who try to resist temptation know how strong it is. After all, you find the strength of the German army by fighting against it, not by giving in. You find out the strength of a wind by trying to walk against it, not by lying down. A man who gives into temptation after five minutes simply does not know what it would have been like an hour later. That is why bad people, in one sense, know very little about badness. They have always lived a sheltered life by always giving in. We never find out the strength of the evil impulse inside us until we try to fight it; and Christ, because He was the only man who never yielded to temptation, is also the only man who knows to the full what temptation really means-the only complete realist."

Egg on my Face

I think I'm turning into a Danny Tanner cleaning clone. Lately, I've been spending hours deep cleaning and grinning in delight as my new steamer cuts through stubborn stains. Unfortunately, I sometimes get carried away. The other day as I was scrubbing, I quickly bent down to grab something and somehow slammed my forehead on the side of the dresser which led to blood spewing out of my head and an immense headache. The first thing I did was make sure I didn't get any blood on my newly cleaned floor, then I iced it, finished cleaning and thought I was good. However,that night at a party, several people commented on my Harry Potter like gash, and how I should have gotten stitches because the gash would soon be a permanent scar. I stared at them in horror until one of my favorite friends gave me hope with an old family secret to prevent scarring. He told me to take the skin off an egg put it on the gash, and then put the egg white on it. Some of you may be shaking your head in superstition, but I didn't have a lot of options, and I'm a believer in random remedies. And so, I soon began my egg skin, and egg white remedy. This is as good as it gets:

I'm not going to lie, I got a lot of funny stares and laughs at the egg on my face, but I remained strong and now that scar is looking good. Which leads me to believe that sometimes egg on your face isn't so bad.

Four Places at Once

TA DA!!!! The seemingly impossible is made possible at Four Corners. Arizona, Utah, New Mexico, and Colorado all meet together in one spot where you can twister it up and be in four places at once.

Cross off number 23!!!!

Prison Food

There are some things in life that are just too good to pass up, and that is why when my roommate and I were driving by the prison and saw a sign that said, “Serving Time Café-Open to the Public” we immediately decided to plan lunch there with our other roommate. Thoughtfully, we decided not to disclose the location to her and gleefully blindfolded her and drove to the front of the prison.

We pulled up facing the prison declared we were here and took off her blindfold.

She took one look at the prison and exclaimed, Um. . .Oh. . . we’re at the prison, ah. . . hmmm. . . “ Yes, all the secrecy was worth the look on her face. Then laughingly, we turned the car to the building next to the prison where the cafe was located. She seemed to have a few reservations, but we assured her that we had read only the best of prisoners can work there. A friend also told us they go through the culinary arts program at the prison as well. We walked through the door and were welcomed with a white board displaying delicious specials and a sign on the wall that said, “Please do not leave tips, we cannot take them.” I smiled loving the place already. The servers/prisoners greeted us with warm smiles and yummy food. Seriously, yummy. Guards, staff from correctional services, and people wanting yummy food littered the room, all happily munching. We liked it so much we went back for breakfast another day and loved it then. What can be better than fluffy pancakes for $2.00 and this sign on the white board?


I've always believed that the best food comes from random, little places, and I don't know a place more random than the prison.

Crash!!

Last Monday was my first day off track, I usually spend that day sleeping in. However, instead I found myself driving back on the freeway from a doctor's appointment in Provo. As I was coming around the mountain, I noticed the flashing lights of a patrol car off to the side of the road, and some tire debris in the road. I suppose this is what caused traffic to slow, because the huge truck in front of me slowed, and so like a good driver, I slowed, and the driver behind me, well . . . . I suppose he did not slow. Because bam like a rocket with a thundering boom, my whole car was propelled into the other lane? Which was miraculous considering that I should have been pummeled into the huge truck in front of me. I guess my head hit the back of the seat something fierce and my clippy shattered into a million (ten) different pieces. Once my head snapped back up, I prayed something fierce and swung my car off the side of the freeway. It all seemed like a fuzzy dream. I'm not sure how I wasn't hit by a million (ten) different cars. Off to the side of the road, I said a prayer of gratitude and then with all the natural instinct of an insurance agent's daughter, I grabbed my accident report guide, information, and shakily stepped out of the car. A new policeman pulled onto the scene and had me come sit in his car. It was there in his car with the paramedics and firetruck racing onto the scene that I had my next three thoughts. My first thought was "Oh no, how am I ever going to get my paper done for class tonight?' Which was followed by, "Hmmm . . . I wonder if my professor will give me another day, since I've been in an accident?" Which was followed by, "What in the world am I doing thinking about a paper, when I was almost killed?" Yep, I was honestly thinking about a paper, as the paramedics were knocking on the window. This was a small indicator to me that my priorities may be slightly off. And so while my car is pretty banged up, and I'm still waiting to hear its diagnosis, I'm okay, and I'm determined to take what I learned from this crash to get my life back in balance, so in moments of craziness I am thinking about what is most important.

Blackberry Kisses

"As she approached the corner of the barn where the sugar maple stands, she plucked a few blackberries from a stray bush and popped them into her mouth. She looked all around her-back at the house, across the fields, and up into the canopy of branches overhead. She took several quick steps up to the trunk of the maple, threw her arms around it, and kissed that tree soundly."
Walk Two Moons
"Oh I just loved that part." one of my girls gushed. "Me too!" another one giggled. And so when deciding on which kind of treat to bring in to share with them at the end of our book group, I knew I had to bring in blackberries. What I didn't know was how much they truly loved this book. As I laid out the blackberries, the girls began to gush,"Oh, Miss R, Oh, can we kiss a tree with the blackberries." I started to laugh. However, they continued to gush about how they would always remember this, and how every time they came back to visit they would look at the tree and try to find their blackberry stain. Of course, that got me right there, because I am a sucker for memories. And so while the rest of the class was down eating ice cream at a party, my small girl's group took big bites of blackberries, rubbed them on our lips and kissed a tree outside of our classroom soundly. We came back in giggling, and then the girls begged to finish our discussion. We went back to our favorite moments from the book, and of course, as I started to read mine, I began to cry. I do it every time I read this book,(it is one of my favorites) but as I looked around the group, I noticed their eyes were all glistening as well. The next little girl began, "Please excuse me if I cry," which immediately set me off into tears again, and then she began her part, her voice shaky, her eyes wet. We strained to hear her soft, shaky,beautiful words. When she finished, I looked around at these girls who begged to stay longer in our group each week to read together, who asked for their reading group to be moved up so we could discuss earlier, and who giggled, swooned, cried, questioned, and learned throughout this book. I started to tear up again, because it is moments like this that every teacher lives for. Moments when you see this light click on, where they have found a love of reading and learning. And just like that blackberry stain that lingers on the tree, I hope that they will always remember this moment, this book, this experience. Like they say in the book, Huzza, Huzza!

The Last to Know

I found out the other day, that I'm engaged, again. It happens every year, except as always, I'm the last to know. This year, just as class was getting ready to start a teacher came in my room all smiley. I looked up and smiled at her, she skipped over, "Hey, what's new with you?" I assumed she wanted to know about my leg, because that is the important topic, so I smiled, "Well, my leg is doing so good. Look at how well it can bend." She kept smiling, "Uh huh, anything else?" "Um. . . I just found out I graduate this summer." She just smiled, so I smiled, then her smile got larger. "Is there anything else going on?" She then began to giggle. I stopped smiling. "Um. . . .nope." I tried to smile again, but suddenly I felt very uncomfortable. "Well" she began, "I heard you've been kissing Math Boy ( a friend who comes in to help me with my crazy math antics) in the hall, and that you two are in engaged." Suddenly, the little rumor makers in my room are very busy. I roll my eyes and sigh dramatically. "Nope, not true at all." I look out on the sea of students who swear they've seen UFO's, killers, and bloody claws in their chicken nuggets, and I'm shocked someone actually believed them. I assume this is the end of the rumor when the next day, a former student who is now in college, comes in to visit. He walks in and smiles, I smile. His smile gets larger, and I immediately stop. He beams, "So, I hear you're engaged." Once again, I roll my eyes and sigh dramatically. "Nope, not true at all." I respond. He shakes his head, "But everyone is talking about it." I roll my eyes and sigh dramatically, "Just because everyone is talking about it, doesn't make it true."(Spoken like a true teacher) A few nights later, I am slipping into the middle school for a former student's big acting debut, when all of these 8th graders come rushing at me. "Oh, my goodness it's so good to see you" they shout. We rejoice in our reunion, until they are smiling even larger than usual. I back away, they cheer, "We hear you're engaged!" People start turning their heads, I roll my eyes twice, and sigh extra loud as I repeat," Nope, not at all." I've decided it's tough being engaged, especially when you are the last to know.

Physical Therapy

Once again, I find myself learning how to walk. I'm praying this is the last time in a long, long while. I spent the two weeks before surgery trying to shake a cold that wouldn't go away. I repented of dairy products and spent all my time drinking an insane amount of liquids, soups, and anything with Vitamin C. I even found myself with a Neti Pot in my nose. ( I was desperate.) The day before surgery I was just a tad stuffy, and so they gave me the green light. I don't know if I've ever worked so hard and been so excited to have surgery before. I even brought my own crutches to the hospital, I was ready for this surgery. I however, wasn't ready for the after part. I remembered my last ACL surgery and the crutches for a month, and struggling in therapy for weeks and weeks to be able to roll an exercise ball and bend my knee. It was the most nauseous, sleepless, and painful summer of my life. However, this surgery with a graft from a donor was amazing!!!! I was able to eat and sleep that night, and the pain hasn't been that bad. I went to physical therapy two days after surgery (seriously two days) we took off all the wrappings and my knee looked so good, (well that might be debatable, but I thought it looked good) my therapist started moving it, which I thought would be impossible but it moved, it moved. I think I said, "Oh my goodness ," and "Wow" a million times. My therapist was equally impressed and he even had me start putting weight on it. Wow!!! Oh my goodness! Surgery was two weeks ago and after therapy today, I found myself crutchless, and braceless. It is a miracle! Now I'm just working on my physical therapy, which if you have ever had physical therapy may look easy, but is really sooooo HARD!!!!! Last week, my therapist, who I actually like a lot, had me put an exercise ball behind my back and do squats, which might not sound hard, but oh my goodness! He smiled and said, "Can you feel that you are favoring your right leg?" I smiled, and said through gritted teeth, "Yeah, that is because my left kneecap feels like it is going to explode and my whole leg collapse." My therapist smiled back, "Well just as long as you're aware of it." Yesterday, he had me walk around the gym in a figure eight backwards with one eye closed. That is right, figure eight, backwards with one eye closed, it is as difficult as it sounds. Each rotation he also made me change which eye was closed, which made all of the other people in the gym think I was winking at them as I stumbled around. However, I'm all for anything crazy, because with ever lopsided figure eight, my knee is getting stronger and I'm on my way to walking normally.

Bear Lake

Presidents' Day Weekend I was sick. However, for some reason, I still decided to go up to Bear Lake with 20 other girls. I spent most of my time asleep, or blowing my nose. However, I still loved being with so many friends in a beautiful cabin in the snow. I should probably also mention there was also a chocolate festival. Chocolate covered raspberries, seriously, that alone was enough of a reason to go.
These are some of the other highlights:
On the way up we stopped at Gossner's Cheese Factory. How can you not like a place with flower boxes and squeaky cheese?



I also liked this place because it's very unpretentious with signs like this:



Ummm . . .Root Beer flavored milk, who makes Root Beer flavored milk? And who could resist buying some? Not me, although, I still haven't tried it, well, because it's Root Beer flavored milk, and ummm. . . .I'm saving it for a special occasion.



If you look closely you can see the beautiful lake, it is a gorgeous place.



Coming home, how could we not stop for Aggie Ice Cream, which may not be good for a cold, but sometimes you have to live on the edge.

Cupcake Wars and Basketball Dreams

A couple of weeks ago, happiness struck twice. First, I was asked to be a cupcake tester at a cupcake war. Umm. . . . . 19 different cupcakes, judged on appearance, theme, and taste. Count me in!!! It was heavenly until around number 11 or so. I mean even a little taste of 19 cupcakes is a lot. Seriously, a lot and those little ladies kept coming in and saying, "Oh did you get a taste of the middle, because the middle has my special filling." I'm not going to lie, I was ill by the end, and the monkey brain cupcake just did not get a fair shake. Sorry monkey cupcake, I did give you a great on your appearance though. After the cupcake tasting, I decided never to eat cupcakes again, well until my mom gave me this recipe, which is amazing. Try it.

After coming home and resting a little, we took off to the Suns game!!!! I love being a Suns rebel rouser. We ended up invading the Jazz stadium and found our Suns magnetism attracting other Suns fans who ended up sitting by us. Every time something good happened, our new friend would say, "That's what I'm talking about Home Skillet!" and then he would give us high fives that never connected. Let's just say our Home Skillets weren't super hip, luckily, our team was. Take a look at the score, and know happiness.

You Don't Know What You've Got Till It's Gone

I often hear people complaining about having to go running, or exercising, or to the gym. I know, because I just might be one of those people. However, my New Year's Resolution is to never, ever complain about running or exercising again. My reason began in September, when I was training for a half marathon. (By training, I mean I was a complete slacker and ran a few long runs.) However, when I did run, it felt like someone was taking a knife and slashing it into my knee. After running, my leg would give out on me, and I couldn't even turn over in bed without it hurting. I stopped all physical activity, and pleasantly my knee felt better. However, there comes a point when you have to move again, and so I set up an appointment with a nearby orthopedic.

They took an x-ray and that big screw from my ACL reconstruction was still nicely attached. I breathed a sigh of relief. They sent in a P.A., he moved my leg around, looked at the x-ray and said it all seemed fine. Which should have caused me to breathe out another sigh of relief, except for the memory of my leg giving out on me and nearly falling over as I tried to get up from sitting on a plane. Or the memory of a knife slashing into my knee. So, I shared these vivid memories with him. He didn't seem phased and started to tell me all about all of the people who are just fine and have little tears in their knee. He said that was probably my problem. I don't think I looked convinced, so he started telling me about jeans. Yep, jeans that you wear. He explained how when you have a pair of jeans for a very long time, they just naturally rip because they are so old, but you still wear them because they just have a little tear. I was very confused at the meaning of this story because I am not 80 years old. I think I even turned around just to make sure that there wasn't some old person in the room that he was really talking to. However, he really was talking to me, and I left with no questions answered, but a clean bill of health to do what ever physical activity I wanted.

So, I ran, and the knife slasher, leg giving away came back. So I did what I should have done in the first place, and I called the doctor who did my ACL surgery and scheduled an appointment. I may have had to drive a lot farther away, but it was worth it. When I told him the jean story , he said he was going to immediately call and tell them how ridiculous that story was. I nodded emphatically. I was feeling so vindicated, that I forgot that this must mean there was a much bigger problem. He quickly looked at the x-ray and then moved my knee and it jumped. He stared at me and asked me if I felt it. I did. He shook his head and said, "Well unfortunately the graft is gone." My head was swirling, "Graft, graft." Then I knew. My hamstring used in the reconstruction was now gone, torn, stretched, gone. I wasn't quite sure this was really happening when he continued, "Yeah, that is the bad news, but the good news is I had a cancelation for tomorrow, we could do surgery then." I was speechless and unable to come in the next day, or for that matter until March. He put me under strict orders to not run, twist, turn, yeah, pretty much move. (But I can bike, thank heavens for that.) During music, I tried showing the boys a choreography move and about tipped over, so I've decided this is serious business. Which leads me back to my New Year's Resolution, and I am serious I will never, ever complain about the amazing ability to run or exercise again.

I Was Born in a Small Town

It's true, I was born in a small town, and I love it. One of the best parts of Christmas is coming home. I love the slow pace. I love going into a store and always seeing someone you know. I love the values and the priorities of the people in town. Most of all I just love being at home with my family. Every other Christmas we are small in number, as you can see from the pictures. However, it was still wonderful. We played games, and watched movies and made yummy food. Pretty much we just enjoyed our small family in our small town, and it was perfect.