Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Summer 2015, Week 3

#1 - Field Trip - Governor's Mansion & Banbury Cross doughnuts (Super super cool!  I have always wanted to go inside this place.  And we did the tour with one of our favorite families.)

Got this shot right before the lady told me "no pictures, please"

#2 - Hike - Ensign Peak (with another one of our favorite families)

#3 - Science Project - Not this week

#4 - Art Project - Not this week

#5 - And then we did a little bit of this... (more water jumping on the trampoline, more mountain biking.  And HE'S HOME!! HE DID IT!!!  Sore shoulders, sore hips, dirt on his face and clothes.  But 50 MILES in 5 days in the Uinta Mountains!  He caught fish with his BARE hands.  Bare.  No pole.  Moment of silent awe please...)

Friday, June 26, 2015

The Dreaded 50 Miler

This is how we've been watching our oldest this past week...

He's packing a 25 lb backpack for the first 10 miles (a little less than half his weight).  And then he's spending the rest of the week hiking off the remaining 40 miles.  He's 100%, absolutely ready for this - training, preparing, planning, the works!  

Still...  Mom will feel much better when he's safely home. 

Tuesday, June 23, 2015

Summer 2015, Week 2

#1 - Field Trip - Annual Hill Celebration at Mom's work 

#2 - Hike - Horsetail Falls 

#3 - Science Project M&M Tube Rockets (testing the expansion properties of gas)  Let's be frank.  The best part was the fact that everyone got to eat M&Ms before we started.

Note the little hand that can barely wait to eat the candy.

#4 - Art Project Zipline Paper Towel Rolls

#5 - And then we did a little of this... (Alex and Chrissy were here!!, Our favorite sitter is back again to make banana bread and build forts in the living room!  We made our annual summer ice-cream sandwiches.  Held a BBQ with family, another BBQ with Bubba's family (plus kick ball!) and finally one last BBQ with my cycling buddies.  We all need more sleep next week...)

Sunday, June 21, 2015

To My Father...

To pull the metal splinter from my palm
my father recited a story in a low voice.
I watched his lovely face and not the blade.
Before the story ended, he’d removed
the iron sliver I thought I’d die from.

I can’t remember the tale,
but hear his voice still, a well
of dark water, a prayer.
And I recall his hands,
two measures of tenderness
he laid against my face...

Had you entered that afternoon
you would have thought you saw a man
planting something in a boy’s palm,
a silver tear, a tiny flame...

I was seven when my father
took my hand like this,
and I did not hold that shard
between my fingers and think,
Metal that will bury me,
christen it Little Assassin,
Ore Going Deep for My Heart.
And I did not lift up my wound and cry,
Death visited here!
I did what a child does
when he’s given something to keep.
I kissed my father.

-Li-Young Lee, The Gift