Happy summer memories hover around me. Views of mountain peaks and rivers are the backgrounds; the kids and their cousins are the focus. Sleep, mealtimes, and ordinary caution are abandoned to build memories.
I’m drawing some strength and perspective from the hills and from time spent with family.
And yes, I sing songs from The Sound of Music in my head and sometimes out loud as I look out over this beautiful world.
Everyone helps out with the construction when you go to Spring Lake. 
Richard had to work on the 4th, so I took the kids to Provo to see the parade and the fair and to visit Spring Lake. Daniel skipped the parade and worked with my dad all day at Spring Lake. In the evening a few cousins joined us for Tank Wars. It was a fun day.
I was hoping these would last a few more years until the chunky plastic-rimmed glasses trend was over. Don’t get me wrong, everybody looks great in those glasses. But I made a promise to myself after looking at my mom’s high school yearbooks that I would never wear glasses with dark plastic rims. I also decided I would never be photographed in a down feather-trimmed blouse.
Also, I have been growing out my bangs. This week it dawned on me that people are now embracing bangs.
I’m feeling a bit grumpy about all of this.
Daniel and Richard went on a High Adventure trip last week. They visited Zion National Park and hiked Angel’s Landing and walked some of the Narrows. They spent a day outside of the park rappelling and went boating in the evenings. Saturday night I sat up late and watched the videos that Richard took of the trip so I could see the fun. The footage that Richard took at Angel’s Landing made my stomach flip and my feet go numb. I also saw some spectacular rappelling by the boys and leaders. I am thankful for a great group of boys and leaders in our ward. I am glad that Richard was there, too.
I just realized it is the 170th anniversary of Joseph and Hyrum Smith’s deaths.
I have visited the places they walked. I have visited the place where they died. However, it’s more important to remember and acknowledge that I am blessed and influenced by the Prophet Joseph Every Single Day.
This morning as we read the New Testament as a family I looked at the footnotes to find a clarification on the text from the Joseph Smith Translation. For personal study, I read a chapter in The Book of Mormon. Phrases from scripture he translated come to my mind when I have big decisions to make or when I have a problem. Where would I be without the scriptures? My temple covenants bring power and protection to me throughout the day. I can read my patriarchal blessing whenever I want; I can worship in the temple almost any day. I have a strong network of friends from church who lift me and love me. I know that our family relationships can continue forever because of temple covenants. I have been richly taught about the Savior all my life through The Book of Mormon. All of these things and many more have come to me because of the Prophet Joseph.
Praise to the man who communed with Jehovah. I am blessed every minute because of what he did. How have you been blessed because of his work?
Paige and Timothy are off to paint a mural at a local Christian church today. It’s supposed to be a big Narnia castle and ocean scene. Timothy’s coach is a youth pastor and the mastermind behind the project and he invited Paige to help. Mark and I will paint Daniel’s bathroom door since he’s away on a high adventure trip. In fact, he’s not too far from these hills in Southern Utah.
Paige painted this heritage painting showing how our ancestors got here and important monuments of their faith. She painted the Mayflower, the San Juan Bautista Mission in California, the St. George Temple, and a handcart.
There are many interpretations for Malachi’s words about the hearts of the children turning to the fathers. One way to interpret this phrase is to focus on how our hearts feel when we realize what our ancestors have given us. My heart almost feels like it’s shifting or turning inside when I feel the joy of knowing my ancestors.
Last week I found a journal that belonged to my great-grandmother that I had misplaced. It was Cerie’s journal of their trip to Sweden in 1957. She describes the personalities of people I only know by name and a snapshot or two. I wish I had found it in time to include some of her observations in the history I wrote last year. But that’s the nature of family history. You are never done. Our stories go on and on and there many heart-turning moments waiting to be discovered.
Our Girls’ Camp scripture was Helaman 5:12. It reminds us to build our foundation on the rock of Jesus Christ. I wanted to make a simple, inexpensive gift for the Young Women in the ward to remember camp. This was inexpensive, but not as simple as I thought. The rocks can’t be too porous or rough. I’ve had a 30-50% failure rate with this craft, which is pretty bad. When I get an image to work, it’s very satisfying and makes me want to keep trying. The rocks at camp wouldn’t work! These are Provo River rocks that I harvested with Mark and Timothy.
I printed a reverse image of the Savior on a laser printer and used a blender pen (toxic! smells like gasoline or paint thinner) to transfer the images. I love rocks. It has been so fun to make these, despite failure after failure.
I got to see Paige go canoeing and we prepared a dutch oven dinner together. Good times!
