Category: Extended family

Fish Creek

Another benefit from living in Utah is we can tag along on family gatherings without having to buy a plane ticket or take time off from work. Richard goes to Fish Creek faithfully… probably once a year, but it has always meant that he leaves our family behind.

Well, not this year. The kids and I were able to go this weekend. I have been to Fish Creek a few times before, but Mark and Timothy had never been. It’s pretty much a land of enchantment. Let me tell you what I mean.

Fish Creek is the only place in the universe where we ride in the back of a pickup truck. I told Mark that it’s the only place he will ever be allowed to do this, even after he becomes an adult. Some rules just have to remain eternal or I won’t be able to sleep at night.

Fish Creek is the only place in which we use the pronunciation, “crick”.

Fish Creek (are you saying “crick” in your mind?) is the only place where I loosen up enough to ride a motorcycle.

Fish Creek is a place where you fit 16 people and two dogs in a pickup truck. You eat fried chicken, cheese curds from Beaver, eggs from the Russ and Nancy farm, and licorice in all its varieties.

It’s history, it’s cousins, it’s dirt roads and mining cabins, leaves changing color, big sky and peace. We had a great time.

And here is the outtake of the day:

Here’s a closeup of the best part. I call it “Sparky’s worldview.”

 

We celebrated our girl and our house

We enjoyed some family time to celebrate Paige’s Sweet 16. Everyone signed a book for Paige and she received many thoughtful gifts. We filled the house with people who love her. Aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers, parents, and grandparents were all there to cheer as she reached this milestone.

For entertainment, we gave house tours and the girl cousins tried on Paige’s ballet costumes. The boy cousins played in the moving boxes.

Paige’s license will be delayed a bit because of our move, but at least somebody can drive around in our yard. These are some of Paige’s cousins. Too cute.

Oceanside

Here we sit restfully right by the sea,

Some of us building, digging and finding,

and some of us reading and thinking.

There are a lot of smiles.

Onlookers abound,

Grandpa is beaming.

If we could hear these crabs talk, I’m sure they’d be screaming.

(This is not supposed to be a poem, but I couldn’t help myself.)

The bikers are out in great number,

While a wave dashes all their hard work back to sea.

A pirate was seen on the grounds of the temple!

We paused and enjoyed the peace we found there.

The tide pools were teeming with critters and squishies.

The ocean seems to gulp down the sun in just minutes.

Richard makes everything better. Amen.

Good night and thanks for reading our blog.

A House, the Frog Pond, and Sparklers

We had a great Independence Day.

The sellers accepted the offer we made on their house in Utah. Here is a sneak peak of what it looks like. I’ll post more pictures when it’s really ours.

We went to the annual Troop 54 breakfast and visited with old friends. We went to the parade, Spring Lake, looked at new lambs, ate fried cookie dough and cheesecake, participated in Tank Wars, and watched the fireworks from Fox field with a pile of little kids.

Here are some photos of the kids playing at the frog pond at Spring Lake.

Daniel has a mouse in that container. Mark’s smile is so charming.

Daniel is showing everyone the mouse they caught.

My sister’s kids are so cute.

Grandpa and his namesake enjoy some time in the shade. It was hot!

It was such a fun family day. It makes me happy that we will live so close to our people. My kids love their cousins.

Backyard helpers

The other night Timothy and I weeded my parents’ garden. It awakened all kinds of old memories for me and hopefully created sweet remembrances for him.

We filled two five-gallon buckets with weeds.

The boys helped Grandpa paint the fence. There was no Tom Sawyer trying to sell the idea. They just loved it. Those are my boys.

A little party at Spring Lake

Summer evening + kids + dogs = bliss

I drove the kids up to Utah this weekend. We arrived in Spring Lake just in time for a party for Sarah.
These are some of the cousins at the playhouse.

And here are some more in the trees.

Cuties at the girl table

A little cutie with a ball.

Mark is happy, but the zombie-werewolf-pirate game required a serious look.

My Timmy.

Happy birthday, Aunt Sarah!

Little helpers for the trick candles

Such sweet sentiments for Sarah from the nieces and nephews!

It’s good to be here for July 4th celebrations. I am house hunting. Paige is at BYU for a summer camp. Richard’s new job begins next week!

Mother

4 generations: Can you recognize me? I'm the bald one.

I’m thankful for the mothers in my life. My mother, who gave me just about everything and my grandmothers who carried faith, traditions, etiquette, and propriety through the generations. I’m glad to have elements of a Victorian woman in my own skill set because it’s kept me out of some trouble.

I’m thankful for the women who have mothered me, even though I was not their own. Some had children of their own to love; others did not. My experience has taught me that they, too are mothers.

I’m not a big fan of Mother’s Day for my own benefit. I don’t want a lot of fuss made about the “sacrifices” of motherhood. Frankly, I’m living the life I always wanted. I don’t need a cake to compensate for my time! I love to being a mother. I always have.

I will be accepting extra hugs and kisses from my children all day today. Happy Mother’s Day!

Thoughts on being sick

Last night I took a long walk around and around the baseball park during practice. I’m in training for a youth pioneer trek. Just call me “Ma Ross” and I’ll say, “Yes, dear? Do you need a band aid for that blister?”

On my long walk through the dust, I thought about my sister who is very ill. I wondered what I could say to help. My mind traveled back to those 3 summers in a row that I was in bed recovering from surgeries. I remembered the feelings of frustration, helplessness, and the temporary depression. I couldn’t mother; I couldn’t teach seminary anymore; I was miserable. I worried that I would never be happy again. I was lonely, but when someone would visit, we rarely talked on the deep level that I craved.

I remember each visitor and each bouquet of flowers and I was deeply touched these acts of kindness. I only felt angry about the “gratitude journal” I was given. I wasn’t ready to be grateful. I remember feeling heartbroken that I couldn’t take care of my kids. I remember the generosity of family and friends.

I learned to never tell someone, “I understand what you’re going through.” I learned to be forgiving when people said this because they meant well.

The biggest lesson I learned during these summers was that I could weather the bad stuff. Although the comfort from friends and family was cherished, the deep comfort came from within, through my choices to listen to the Spirit. I had to change the way I viewed my situation. No one else could do this for me. I had to be the one to make the choice to be thankful. No one could make me feel this. I had to accept physical limitations for a while. I admit that I did not do this very well.

During this time, I clung to Church magazines and had profound experiences reading the scriptures. The gospel was truly the only thing that could penetrate my troubled heart and mind. It was a revelatory time. I have journals to prove it. I wrote to pass the time. I wrote to record my testimony over and over. I wrote so I could remember.

For the next few weeks I’ll try to write something each day so my sister has something new to read or look at.

I love you, Susan.