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.)

Creating Keepsakes

I have a subscription to Creating Keepsakes magazine. It is a great magazine, filled with scrapbooking, family history preservation, and card-making ideas. I recently received an offer for a second subscription for just $3. A normal 13-issue subscription is around $20. If anyone is interested in the $3 subscription, let me know.

Even if you don't want the mag, check out the website - it is filled with fun ideas.

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.

One of Those Days

Have you ever felt like this . . .
. . . because you haven't had enough this?


I am going to have one of those days. Hopefully, not too many of you will see me today and I will spare you the tears.

Wetsuit Wanted

I recently came across a post-it note I made in January that listed my resolutions for the year. Among other things, I committed in January to enter a race. The last time I made this resolution, I entered the Provo River 1/2 marathon. I loved it - stress fractures, heat cramps, and all.

I know many people are opposed to resolutions, but I am all for them. I am firmly committed to them - if I don't follow through, I lack integrity. For better or for worse, I am encouraged to complete or master all of my goals for the year. Resolutions force me to do things I might not otherwise do - case in point: The Yuba Triathlon

So, as the race season is drawing to a close, and my time to complete my goal is slipping from my grasp, I plan to swim, bike and run on September 8th. I am a little apprehensive (as my husband reminds me - it is just three weeks away), but mostly excited.

Now, onto my call for help: do any of you have a wetsuit without arms (as pictured above) that I could borrow? The water is actually pretty warm (for a lake swim), but just cold enough that a wetsuit would prevent me from shaking my way to the finish line. Just think, you could help me meet my resolution!

Bad Parenting 101

Joey and I spent Saturday afternoon at Target buying storage shelves and bins in hopes to better organize our 900 square foot apartment.

We arrived home and were eager to get started. Joey went to work installing a laundry-room shelf, constructing a piece of furniture for his closet and then we both went to work on the dreaded storage room.

I had the brilliant idea to distract Owen with a movie. Joey suggested something different - not the typical Baby Einstein video Owen usually watches. We browsed through our limited video library and found the original Shrek movie - the closest thing to a children's movie we had. I popped it into the VCR, fast forwarded to hear the famous Smashmouth theme and walked out of the room.

Joey and I went to work dragging the piles of "stuff" out of our storage room and stacking it floor-to-ceiling high in our hallway. Not two minutes had gone by when I heard Owen's "I am in trouble and I desperately need your help" cry. I worked my way through the labyrinth of junk and found him 10 inches from the TV screen, sobbing with one finger pointing at the screen. There was Shrek, being hunted in the night by a group of men with pitchforks. They didn't hesitate to cut to the chase in this movie (a scene that had obviously slipped from my memory). Poor Shrek. Poor Owen.

I quickly scooped Owen into my arms, reassured him that Shrek was okay and turned off the movie. Maybe I should write a book on appropriate movies for toddlers or a book called "Bad Parenting 101."