Easter in Palm Springs

Our Spring Break was phenomenal. I was completely exhausted when we got home, and needed a vacation to recover, but it was wonderful to be in such a beautiful place, with the people I love. We ate at great restaurants, enjoyed beautiful walks on the hotel property, and Owen could not get enough of the warm weather which allowed to him to go swimming daily. I wish I could go back. Here we are at Easter brunch. This hotel's food and ambiance were amazing. They even had a "kid bar" with gourmet chicken strips, macaroni and cheese and fries. Kid and adult heaven. It was one of the few times Owen actually sat down to eat. Not for very long . . . but he did eat. Also worthy of note: for all you Saved By the Bell fans, this hotel was featured in the episode where Jesse's dad gets married. Fun trivia, right?

You can just tell these two are up to something. At least they look cute.

Clearly, Owen is explaining something very detailed to Sydney. 10 to 1 odds it doesn't make a bit of sense.

Here is what we saw outside our hotel room's window.

The view from our patio.

Swimming. Owen couldn't get enough. It was the first thing he asked for when he woke up (which was usually around 4 am . . . but by 5 or 6, he was back in bed thankfully).

In the pool's lazy river.

The pool also had a "beach." Owen was dirty, safe and happy.

Sammie, my sister's little girl.

Love this picture. Owen is waiting for the singer to look away so he can climb on stage and grab some electrical equipment. We spent half the time trying to keep him off of the stage and the other time trying to keep him out of the water fountains just up the stairs. Also, Sammie (wearing the pink bow in the lower right-hand corner) is dancing with the little girl in the yellow. They don't know each other, but fell in love dancing to the music. Priceless.

Now, I just need to convince my dad to take us all back down there next week. I'll let you know if I'm successful.

One Love

My brother (the one on the left) just returned from his summer adventures in St. Thomas. He and his friends all grew goatees or beards while they were there. Jedidiah Smith or Grizzly Adams come to mind. But I digress . . .

They met and befriended this exciting character and his donkey. The man in the middle calls himself "One Love" and his donkey is "Oprah." For some reason, One Love reminds Dave of my mom (she would die if she read this). The coordinating outfits, he assures me, is the only reason. (As most of you know, my family wears matching outfits on all major holidays/celebrations - I have yet to post pictures of these moments.)

The Tetons in Pictures

Here's a look at our adventures last week, sans Owen.

Joey and I on our hike around Jenny Lake - after the bear incident.

Still smiling.

After hike swim in String Lake (Joey refusing to jump in . . . just yet.)

Our favorite Chuck Wagon eatery - Dornan's at Moose Junction. See the beautiful Tetons in the background?

Our last picture leaving the park, after a long rainy night and noisy French neighbors. Mt. Owen (yes, Owen is named after a mountain) is the peak directly above the space between Joey and my head. It is the second tallest mountain, behind the Grand, in the Teton range.

Mr. Bear: Please Don't Eat Me

Each summer, Joey and I make our annual trip to Grand Teton National Park. Every year there is a new experience and new story.

The first year the story could have been about Joey's ticket in Kemmerer that he agonized over for days. Or, it could have been our failed attempt to summit the Grand after climbing for 10 hours. Or, it could have been the car alarm going off for five minutes in the middle of the night.

Three years ago (before too many children had entered the picture), we went with some good friends and we hiked to Lake Solitude through Cascade Canyon. (This was the hike that is 19 miles round trip. Joey wanted to race the last two miles home - he and I on foot with our backpacks, Tony and Shyanne on the shuttle boat. I wonder who won? Not us.) Shyanne and I talked loudly as we hiked to warn any bears of our approach. Not too long after, Joey composed the song Mr. Bear, Please Don't Eat Me to make light of our bear phobia. Throughout the day (and night) we would hear the melodic phrase. Fortunately, not one of us saw a bear on that trip.

This year, as the two of us entered the park, I noticed new signs that read, "Be Bear Aware!" with a massive bear print next to them. I commented on the signs and Joey jokingly would reply, "Ooooohhh, a bear is going to get us." Ha ha. Funny.

At every check station or pay booth, another pamphlet would be handed to us with "Bear Safety" information or exciting bear facts printed on them. My favorite quote read: "A female grizzly bear and her yearling cubs are utilizing important habitat along roadsides and near developed areas in the park." The sheet also talked about mother bears being the most dangerous and "never place yourself between a mother and her cubs." I can feel the hairs rising now. The anxiety climaxed until Joey could take it no longer. I was told to either relax or we should go home. We stayed, but I am not sure how relaxed I was!

The first morning after a good night's sleep in our massive tent and a yummy egg breakfast, we sat making plans for our day. A white park van pulled up and the man inside just stared at us. I was just waiting for him to ask us if we were leaving or remind us to put food away or some other bit of information. Instead, he said quite calmly, "There's a bear coming through the campground. You might want to be careful." Joey and I assumed that meant approaching the campground, i.e. 1/2 a mile away. We stood and there it was, 20 feet away from us - a black bear trotting towards us. Every ounce of adrenaline that is within my body was activated and I headed for the car. (I know, I know, the last thing you are supposed to do is run, but I swear it was gut instinct - and I lived to tell, so it couldn't have been that bad of a decision.) Joey opened up the car door and I scrambled inside. He of course stayed outside the car and looked frantically for the camera. Oh, the differences between us.

The bear wanted nothing to do with us and was simply on his way to the other side of camp. He just trotted along as we heard echoing through camp, "Bear coming through . . . bear coming through . . . bear coming through."

Now I can say I have seen a bear, in person, in the wild and, most importantly, he did not eat me.

C'est la vie!

My parents left early Thursday morning for a vacation to Switzerland and France in honor of their 35th wedding anniversary. My dad served his mission in the western part of France and Eastern Switzerland, or the Geneva, Switzerland mission. He returned a year after his mission to work in France as a tour guide. They have always wanted to go back and see those places together. Hence, the whirlwind tour of France they are now embarking on.

Consequently, we have grown up with a high regard for France - the language, the land, the people. My sister and I traveled in Europe before I got married and I felt such a connection with Paris (maybe it was the Éclairs.) I need to go back! I did everything I could to convince my parents that it was necessary that I accompany them on their trip. My dad was only slightly amused at my suggestions. Needless to say, I am still here and they are staying at a posh hotel in Geneva.

My father did however offer the use of his car while they were away. While it is not quite as good as walking down the Champs Elysee or eating Brie at an outdoor cafe across from Notre Dame, I'll take what I can get. I'll try to take care of it dad.

May parents flight was canceled and so they have been plane- hopping to Geneva. They spent the first night in Newark, New Jersey - a far cry from Geneva. I was asked to call the hotel in Switzerland, The Beau Rivage, to notify them of their delay. A male voice answered the phone in what is quite possibly the most beautiful French accent I have ever heard. I wasn't even going to try to embarrass myself, so I very quickly said, "Parlez-vous anglais?" His English spoken with a French accent was equally as beautiful. I can just hear the words "of course madame," echoing through my head today.

If my parents have half as good of an experience as I did talking to the concierge on the phone, the trip will have been a success. Now, I just have to figure out a way to get myself over there . . . C'est la vie!

Caneel Bay

My brother just took a job in what he has labeled an "international management position." In reality he will be selling beach goods (shirts and nail polish that change in the sun, swimsuits, etc.) on St. Thomas, Virgin Island. He will be staying with three other 21-year-old boys, each given room and board, a scooter to drive around the island and spending money.

When we were in elementary school, our parents took us to Caneel Bay, on St. John's. After landing in St. Thomas, we took an open-air taxi through the city to a yacht that awaited us on the other side of the island. We boarded the yacht and were immediately given island drinks of mango, pineapple and guava. If there is a drink in heaven, this would be it. By the end of the trip I think we each drank our weight in the stuff. We docked on one of the resorts seven private beaches, with white sand and clear blue ocean. The resort really is every bit as beautiful as the pictures.

I think my brother thinks that this is where he will be staying. For his sake, I hope his room is just as magnificent as the one he remembers at Caneel Bay, but I don't want to see the look on his face when he is presented with staff quarters.

Where Time Stands Still

The Camelback: good food, fabulous location, and "Where Time Stands Still." This cheesy logo is on the buildings, postcards and other hotel paraphernalia. We had an incredible time, but unfortunately, time did not stand still and we are back in Utah. I always feel a little melancholy after a fabulous vacation. I miss the relaxation, enjoyment and of course the good company. We played tennis, ate at great restaurants (probably too much), went on walks, went swimming and shopping and Dave tried desperately to get himself a nice suntan. Evidence that he was there I am sure.

Rub-a-Dub-Dub, Three Men in a Tub

My family just got back from the Camelback Resort in Scottsdale, Arizona: arguably, one of our family's favorite vacation spots. While recounting our travels to his mother, Joey said the highlight of the trip was hot-tubbing with Dave and me. Late one night, during a particularly exciting rainstorm, we headed up to one of the hot tubs at the Jackrabbit pool.

Hot-tubbing is usually synonymous with refreshing, relaxing, meditative, but this experience was anything but. As I had mentioned, this was late at night during an Arizona rainstorm. This was no small drizzle. This was stand in the shower, sprayed with a hose type rainstorm. We were almost as wet getting into the hot tub as we were getting out.

Fun you say? You don't know my husband. This scenario provided him with the opportunity to create a way to enjoy the pleasures of a hot tub in spite of the rain. With a little engineering ingenuity, several pool toys and water lounges, Joey fashioned several huts (each more elaborate than the next) to provide shelter from the rain. He was enjoying himself so much, that even after Dave and I got out, he stayed and played by himself.

The Camelback was fabulous. Rain and all.