Happy Holidays!

Folks, 

I'm off tomorrow.  Before I leave, I wanted to wish you happy holidays and share a pic with a holiday vibe.

Santa will be visiting me in St. George.  I'm then off to northern Utah to play in the snow and see my cousins.  (I think I'll be able to hold my own with them.)

See you in the new year,

Jack

Big Boy

Jack has recently realized that he is the only person in the family who needs help to eat. Well, he's had enough of that. He insists on feeding himself now. 

In fact, it is almost to the point that he refuses to eat yogurt unless he feeds it to himself. (As an aside, the kid is demonstrating a disturbingly high level of stubbornness. I'd like to say that he gets that from his mother, but...)

This is one of the first times that Jack fed himself. 

The moment of triumph! 

Messy to be sure, but I've seen him in worse shape after a meal (like when I feed him, for instance). 

Little Slugger

You can take the kid out of the City, but you can't take the City out of the kid. It looks as if we have another Yankees fan on our hands (gosh, it just makes a father proud). 

To be honest with you, it may not have been the time that Jack spent in the City that made him a Yankees fan, it might actually be in his genes. Jack is actually a 4th generation (maybe even 5th, we're not sure) Yankees fan. 

Jack's great grandpa was born in New York City and grew a big fan of the Yanks. He, in turn, took Jack's grandpa (my dad) to a bunch of games when Jack's grandpa was a boy, and the next generation's loyalties to the pinstripes were solidified. 

The cycle continued when I watched just about as many Yankees games on TV as a kid growing up in Utah could watch in the pre-satellite era. I have many fond memories of doing yard work on Saturday mornings in the summer, then coming inside to eat tuna sandwiches and potato chips for lunch while watching the Yankees on TV--all of it with my dad. Those were great times, and I became a fan myself. One of the things I enjoyed most about living in New York was going to Yankees games, especially when my dad or brother were in town. 

Jack hasn't actually been to a Yankees game (yet), but he was awfully excited to put his Yankees hat back on after it arrived with our other belongings from New York. I take that as a positive indicator of where his allegiances will lie. 

He also picked up the bat along with his hat, which I was absolutely thrilled about. Maybe we have a slugger on our hands! 

A fan is born. 

Here he is, gazing towards left field (probably to call his shot).

We Meet Again

Happy day....

(Remember this post.)

Winter Wonderland

Yes, it actually does snow in Las Vegas. Today it snowed for the first time in five years (at least according to some accounts). We think it snowed a couple of inches at our place. Karen said the look of surprise on Jack's face when they walked out the front door and saw snow was absolutely priceless. 

This is our car at about noon.  

Broad is the Way

There really isn't another way to put this other than to say that I fear I am leading my little boy to hell. 

Example #1

Saturday morning, when he and I drove into the church parking lot to go to the Christmas breakfast, Jack started screaming "Buh Bye; Buh Bye; BUH BYE" when he realized that we were at church. Usually when he uses said phrase in such a way it means something to the effect of "get me out of here." 

Sunday morning (lest we think what happened Saturday was an isolated incident), as we arrived at church, the same scene was repeated. As soon as Jack realized we were pulling into the church parking lot, he started screaming "Buh Bye" at the top of his lungs. 

I haven't done anything to encourage this sort of behavior, but I can't truthfully say that I feel much differently than the kid does when I pull into the church parking lot myself. I suppose that it is also true that I don't always put up a fight when Jack needs to be taken out of church, especially when I am the one who has to take him out (which I embrace as my personal responsibility). I guess that the apple doesn't fall from the tree. 

Example #2

This weekend has been quite a bruiser for us because our furniture and belongings arrived from New York. Consequently, we have had the pleasure of packing up and moving out our borrowed/temporary furnishings, and moving-in, unpacking, and organizing our own furnishings. 

As an aside, I can't believe what a brutal move it has been. How is it--I am still wondering--that we can have gained 500 square feet of living space and be having such a bear of a time getting our stuff to fit comfortably? I guess it just goes to show what a great place we had in New York, and what genius went into its organization (I wish I could take credit, but I can't). 

Anyway, our place was such a mess, and our energy levels ebbed at such a low yesterday evening, that we decided to go out for dinner instead of unpacking boxes of dishes/utensils and then cleaning off the table for a place to eat, even though it happened to be the day of rest. We ended up going out for Chinese food. 

Sabbath observance issues aside, the real rub came when Jack looked at a statuette of the Buddah, pointed at it, and said "Jesus." I thought it was hysterical, but I don't think that my lovely wife did. I think the good Lord will forgive me, but I'm not sure she will. 

New Awlins

Karen and I spent the better part of this week in New Orleans. I went for a conference held by the American Institute of Certified Public Accountants (the conference materials were scintillating, I assure you) on the construction industry. Karen came to enjoy a few days of the good life while her parents, graciously, watched Jack.  

Karen has spent a fair amount of time in New Orleans, but I was visiting for the first time. Karen, who was returning to the city for the first time since Katrina, was continually struck by how different the city was this time around. We found several shops and restaurants that she had known from previous visits that were now closed. All this, mind you, was in the French Quarter, which has probably received more attention than most areas of the city given the city's reliance on tourist dollars. 

One of our favorite gluttonous indulgences of the trip turned out to be eating beignets at Cafe du Monde. I won't tell you how many times we went there. 

Yours truly on the banks of the Mississippi River. 

Here is my cute navigator wife looking at the map as we rode the street car along St. Charles through the Garden District. 

We spent December 6th at the National World War II Museum, which we really enjoyed. Even though December 6th isn't quite December 7th, it was still close enough for the museum to host several activities in conjunction with the remembrance of the attack on Pearl Harbor. We loved our time at the museum. Pictured below is a C-47. 

We had a terrific time together. Karen, in particular, was rejuvenated by the trip. We learned early in our marriage that we very much enjoy traveling and exploring together. 

By far the best part of the trip, however, took place in Las Vegas when we returned home. When I saw Jack again for the first time in several days he smiled (which, to be honest, isn't actually that special because he smiles about 95% of the time), put his arms around me, laid his head on my shoulder, and cuddled with me for a few minutes. I really missed my little buddy, and I think he missed his daddy. 

Bye Bye NYC

This past weekend we bid a final farewell to our life in New York City (at least as far as we know). We went back there for a whirlwind trip to pack up our belongings--which we had left in order to help show our apartment--in order to prepare for a close in the next week or so. 

While we did get a lot done in a short period of time--namely moving--we didn't get to spend nearly as much time with friends as we would have liked. In fact, we missed seeing many of our dear friends altogether because of our tight schedule, vacation travels, or a variety of other reasons. Nor did we get to eat as much of the food that we so love and miss. Oh well. No one ever goes to New York and gets to do everything that they'd like to do. We certainly didn't and we spent a very active 7+ years there. 

Some highlights of the trip: 

* The Cross-country Flight. Simply put, my wife is brilliant. Jack loves taking lids off of bottles and tubes, and opening any kind of container. Well, my super-sharp wife bought an empty set of mini travel bottles and tubes--the kind that those of you who have the necessity to use shampoo, conditioner, and hairspray would use to fill with said items in travel quantities. However, she filled them instead with items that she thought Jack would enjoy emptying and filling, such as Q-Tips and little craft sticks. It was sheer genius. He was in hog heaven. She also got him some headphones, which he loved. I think the headphones made him feel like a big boy, which he seems to relish. The final coup in her perfect preparation was a new 'lift-the-flap' (which Jack is quite fond of) book. He just ate all of this stuff up. The flight ended up being fantastic because of her thoughtful preparation. Suffice it to say the flight far, far, far exceeded my expectations. 

* Our Apartment. We love our home--the first home we ever owned. It was just the way we left it. Despite 6 months absence, it was like we never left. What a great place. I am sad it will no longer be ours.  

* Thanksgiving. Some good friends had a group of people over for the big day and let us join them. The food was excellent and the company was even better. 

* Pilates. A friend of Karen's from St. George, who just moved to New York, stayed with us in our apartment for a few days before the apartment she rented freed up. It turns out, she moved to NYC to teach at a high-power Pilates studio. Well, at nights she had us doing Pilates in our front room and we just loved it. My abs have never, ever worked that hard before. Karen and I enjoyed it so much that we are thinking we're going to check out  a studio here in Vegas. 
* Pizza. We can't find anything close to what we came to love from Dean's in New York. Truth be told though, it was tough to manage the combination of the pizza and the Pilates. 

* Sleep Over in Connecticut. Some dear friends fed us, took us out for gelatto, stayed up late talking with us, and let us crash at their place for the night. 

* Jowanza's Homecoming. A dear friend returned from his mission to Detroit and gave his homecoming address on Sunday, which we were able to attend. It was one of the great highlights of all of my experiences in church. 

* Sunday Dinner. Some friends had a second going away potluck dinner for us (the first happened when we originally left the City in June). What a special group of people that is. We hope our paths cross often. 

Little Chatterbox

This last month or so Jack's vocabulary has really grown. In fact, he has become quite a little chatterbox. Just for fun I thought I'd share some of his favorite words, and what they actually sound like when they come out of his mouth. 

Word:  What it Sounds Like: 

Mommy Mah-mah

Daddy Da-Da

Doggy Dah-dah (sounds an awful lot like Daddy)

Sadie Day-dee (the name of Grandma Jean's dog, and Jack's first word)

Truck Tut

Airplane Aw-po

Noodle Nuh-duh

Ball Bah

Moon Mmm

Cookie Kee-kee

Drink Dee

Koala Oh-la-la (my 2nd favorite after Daddy)

Elephant El-pan

Chip Tseep

Uh Oh Uh-oh

Banana Na-nah (which is also his response to the question, "What does a monkey eat?")

M&M Nem-en-em

Night-night Nah-nah

Bye-bye Bah-bye

Jack Jah

Jack building a tower out of his favorite toys

Circles

Circles....that was theme for last night's Gourmet Club.  

My friend Beth and I hosted the dinner.  Each food item was either a circle, plated in a circle, or sliced to show circles.  I think the food turned out fantastic as well.

Of the 8 invited guests, only 3 were able to attend which made for an intimate dinner. What even made it more fun was the fact the 3 guests all knew each other ---well.  They raised their children on the same street.

I'm proud I remembered the camera to take a few pictures.  

Seated and ready for dinner...

The menu...

The table setting...

The place cards...

The favors.... chewy caramale popcorn balls

I forgot to take pictures of the food, but remembered to when we were cleaning up. 

Wish you could lick the plate? Yummy!!

New Cousins

This past week Jack and Karen headed up to Utah to help Karen's sister Amy move. Jack was delighted with the constant supply of boxes to play with, loved the attention of all of his older cousins, and was thrilled to have learned some new climbing skills from his cousin Matthew. 

Noting that Jack enjoyed many activities during the week, Karen said that a clear highlight of Jack's week was meeting his two newest cousins--Zack and Kate. Zack and Kate are twins born to my younger brother Wade (I was going to say "little" brother but I'm trying to keep this as factually accurate as possible) and his wife Brianne. 

Jack has shown interest in babies before, but apparently he gave them his undivided attention for quite some time (which doesn't usually happen for more than about three minutes at a clip). He enjoyed holding the twins, kissing them, pointing out their feet, hands, noses, etc., and just watching them. Karen said he could hardly stop giggling with joy while he was with the twins. 

Who knows, maybe Jack is trying to send his parents a message! 

Here Jack is holding Kate and Zack with Karen's help. Note the smile (even though it is hard to see) on Jack's face. 

Jack and Zack

The Blue Light Special

In my seemingly never-ending quest to keep my car roadworthy, I once again had some work done to my car this past week. Truth be told, some of it this week was mechanical, but some of it was aesthetic. As far as the aesthetic was concerned, I thought a coat of paint would be a good idea in order to keep the vehicle looking like it didn't belong up on blocks in a trailer park. 

In order to save on some of the costs, I had my backyard mechanic--whom I've probably spoken more with than anyone save family since I bought this '97 Honda Accord POS--do some of the prep and finish work on the paint job. My mechanic has done terrific work, and has been able to fix things and solve problems that other mechanics haven't been able to. As such, he has earned my trust, and doesn't always call me about every little decision that he makes. 

While taking off the trim to prep the car for painting, my mechanic said that the little black nipples that shoot windshield wiper fluid from the hood to the windshield broke. This isn't a surprise with a 12-year-old car, and certainly wasn't a big deal. So my mechanic took it upon himself to buy some new parts to replace those that broke, which is the way that he and I have been doing things. 

Well, I should probably point out that my mechanic is originally from South Philly, which is a pretty urban environment. I'm guessing that when he bought these replacement parts that he was thinking of what he would like to drive in South Philly more than he was thinking about what an accountant from Utah would like to drive. 

So, without further adieu, I present to you the final product--The Blue Light Special!

Unfortunately it was a little bit too light for you to get the full impact of the blue lights when I took this picture, but you certainly get the idea. 

What do you think, should I keep the blue?

Captain Jack

For Halloween Jack was a pirate, which he absolutely loved. Have you ever seen a happier pirate? 

We ended up going to St. George for Halloween so that Jack could trick-or-treat with several of his cousins, which was a lot of fun. 

Surprisingly, given the intensity of his mother's sweet tooth (more about this below), Jack cared very little about the candy. He enjoyed the people much more than the candy.  

Incidentally, when Jack's mother was just a bit older than Jack, she started sneaking out to go and buy candy. She tells a story of sneaking away from home as a young girl, riding her bike to the gas station to buy candy (which she would then hide under the lawnmower to keep out of the clutches of her siblings), seeing her mom's car turn the corner, and jumping off her bike and diving commando-style into the bushes in order to avoid detection. 

For Halloween dinner grandma served snake casserole (meat loaf rolled out in a snake-like tube with a diamondback pattern painted on with ketchup and mustard), fingertips (baby carrots with almond slices glued on as fingernails), and eyeballs (yellow jello balls with blueberries as irises). The kids absolutely loved it, but we aren't so sure about grandpa.  

The Second Century

Yesterday I rode my second century. This ride was the Viva Bike Vegas, and was 118 miles. The course was quite a bit longer than last week's Tour de St. George (at a mere 104 miles), but had less climbing. The weather was beautiful for riding--80 degrees and sunny with a slight breeze. 

It was fairly difficult for me to do this ride after having done the century last weekend; I felt the fatigue in my muscles from last Saturday almost as soon as I got on my bike yesterday. There were several points at which I wanted to quit, but I am glad that I didn't. Finishing was worth the work (even though the food was pretty much gone by the time I got to the finish line), and I made some great friends along the journey.  

It has become apparent that I may need to invest in some additional equipment if I continue to bike as I have for the last few weeks. This morning when I looked in the mirror I noticed that I had parallel lines going from the front to the back of my bald head. It looks like the sun's rays found their way through the lines in my helmet. I've never really been a 'bandana guy', but I guess I'll have to make a change in order to forgo my racing stripes. 

The most memorable commentary from this ride will certainly be Karen's response to an inquiry that my mom made of her. Jeannie asked Karen if I had lost weight, or if my waist had gotten any smaller, with all of this bicycling. Karen's response was, "It is so hard to tell when he is wearing spandex." Priceless. An instant classic to be sure. 

When stripes are a good idea...

I've learned in quilting that you need to stop and think before you choose to use stripes.  You could be asking for extra pain.

See stripes are a directional fabric.  (i.e. Try cutting a bunch of squares with a vertical stripe pattern. Accidentally turn one of the squares 90 degrees so the stripes run horizontally.  Sew it together and oops!  One square is running a different direction than the others.  Time to unpick...) You just have to think harder when you quilt with stripes- that's all.  

However, I've recently discovered stripes can be very helpful.  

Stripes on sheets! Guess what?  I ALWAYS put on the fitted sheet right every time.  I know the stripes run from head to toe.  Saves me at least 30 seconds trying to figure out which side is shorter, etc.

The First Century

Yesterday I did something I've never done before; I rode my bike 100 miles--my first century. Karen and I drove to St. George to participate in the Tour de St. George. Karen rode the 35 mile distance, and felt so good after it that she was disappointed that she didn't go for the 60 mile distance. 

I had never actually gone for more than a 40 mile ride, although I told Karen that I'd ridden 60 miles before when she expressed stern disapproval of my wishes to do the century (which could have had something to do with my tendency to be a tad overzealous with my physical activities and then hurt myself in the process). 

The course, with approximately 6,000 feet of vertical climb, is a pretty tough one. For those of you familiar with the greater St. George metropolitan area, the course started at the Tabernacle, headed through Washington Fields and around Sand Hollow; went through Tocquerville, Leeds, and Hurricane; wound around Quail Creek Reservoir and back to St. George; headed up and up and up and up the highway to the top of Snow Canyon before going down Snow Canyon; then it wound through Santa Clara and Ivins before finishing back at the Tabernacle.

I thought that I'd let you know how the ride felt through the course. Here is a brief log. 

Mile 10 Wow, was that really only 10 miles? 

Mile 20 We certainly have climbed a lot of hills. The race organizers seem awfully focused on inclines in elevation. 

 

Mile 30 I am in heaven. The road is smooth and the course is gorgeous. I can't believe how pretty Sand Hollow is. I could do this forever. I am passing people left and right. 

Mile 35 That was an incredibly brief ride downhill after all that climbing. 

Mile 40 I have never ridden my bike 45 mph...nice!

Here I am at about mile 45 

Mile 50 I can hardly wait for the lunch stop. I am starving. By the way, have you ever spent a few hours in cycling cleats? It has been a while since I could feel my feet. 

Mile 55 I can't believe how tired I am. Even flat ground fills like an incline. My hands are now so tired that it hurts to shift gears.  

Mile 65 I can't remember my name or what year it is. The sun is awfully hot and my vision is blurred; all I can see is one hill after another. My neck is so tired that I can barely lift my head up. I still can't feel my feet. My skin is cracking and salty from all the sweat. 

Mile 70 The lady at the last water stop said it was only 10 miles to the top of Snow Canyon. What a sadistic sense of humor she has.

Mile 75 I can't remember the last time my speed was in the double digits. I really, really, really wish I could downshift right now. What I wouldn't give for a third sprocket on my bike. 

Mile 80 We are finally going downhill. Snow Canyon is really steep. My hands are exhausted from braking. I don't know what is the most tired--my legs, my neck, or my hands. 

Mile 85 Unbelievable. We are going uphill again. 

Mile 90 I want my mommy. 

Mile 95 Ok, I can do this. But at 5 mph it is going to take a while to get to the finish line. 

Mile 100 I thought this thing was only 100 miles. 

Mile 102 I just hit the wall for the third time. 

Mile 103 I never thought of Main Street as an imposing hill before today. 

Mile 104 Jubilation! (And no, the finish line had not yet been taken down by the time I got there). 

Jack and me at the finish line. 

Suffice it to say it was a great experience and I almost can't wait to do it again, although I'll need at least a few days before I can even look at a bicycle seat. 

 

Here is my cute biker wife after she finished the 35 mile course. 

I have Doug, my brother-in-law, to thank for these fine race photographs. This is a self-portrait. 

I have Alisha, my sister-in-law, to thank for watching Jack while both Karen and I were on the race course, for driving Doug around while he could take these ever-so-flattering pictures of me in full-body spandex, and--most importantly--for marrying Doug.

Becoming my mom?

Maybe. (Case study #1)

Growing up, my mom always had a laundry and cleaning schedule.  (Monday and Thursday she washed colors.  Tuesdays were sheets & towells.  Fridays were whites.)  I thought every mother did this.  I remember thinking if I wanted to wear my red Durrant Dragon Elemantary School t-shirt on Friday that I'd better get it in the hamper by Wednesday night as colors would be washed again Thursday.   

Same goes for cleaning.  We always knew Wednesday meant you had to "deep" clean.  It meant you had additional tasks for your current cleaning assignment on the rotation schedule.  For example, if I was assigned the tan bathroom for the week then every day I had to clean the sink, wipe the counters, and then clean the mirrors.  (Your mom taught you to clean the mirrors last, right? If you clean them first, water might get splashed on them when you clean the sink. Brilliant!)  On "deep clean" Wednesday, you had to additionally scrub the toilet, shower/bathtub, and clean the floors.

Now I find myself home full-time and falling into similar patterns.  To me Monday means cleaning bathrooms, kitchens, washing sheets & towels & Jack's clothes.  Wednesday means colored need to be washed.  Tuesday afternoon is errands (or get out of the house for most the day).  

As much as I may poke fun at my mom for still sticking to her routines I see why.  I, too, am much happier and enjoy life more when I know when everything will get done.  After a weekend full of activities and fun, I find myself looking forward to Mondays when I just stay at home and work. 

Maybe not. (Case study #2)

My sweet tooth is not a secret.  As a child I loved Halloween.  I had a hierarchy of candy and would sort my Halloween goods accordingly.  Snickers, 3 Musketeers, Kit Kat, M&M's, Milky Way all belonged to the highest tier.  I loved that I had three little brothers who didn't know the candy hierarchy and would willingly trade a Snickers for some smarties. 

Today on a quick trip to CVS for some infant tyelonol, I noticed the Halloween section was clearing out and Christmas supplies were being shelved.  The big yellow tags by the candy caught by eye.  Sale!  I still needed to buy some Halloween candy for the ward trunk-or-treat and it was a super deal.  Fun size bags 2 for $3.oo.  

Then, another yellow tag caught my eye. 20 cute Pumpkin erasers  in a bag - 2 for $3.00.  I really thought, "Those would be fun to give out instead of candy.  They would last longer.  You could take them to school."

Then I caught myself.

"Pencils and erasers for Halloween?  Stop.  You sound like Mom. Pretend you are a kid."

I bought the candy.

(Yes, we were the house that gave out Halloween pencils.)

Biking Lake Mead

This weekend we decided to go for a bike ride on the River Mountains Loop Trail, which is an asphalt trail that goes up and down the mountains along the banks of Lake Mead. When the trail is complete it will be a 35 mile loop. Right now only portions of the trail are done. Instead of getting a babysitter for Jack and, therefore, taking our road bikes (since we only pull the trailer with our mountain bikes), we opted to make the trip a family affair by taking our mountain bikes and pulling Jack in the trailer. 

Bringing Jack was a great idea until the wind kicked up, which happened, coincidentally, just a few minutes after we turned around on the trail to head back to our car, and were--as a result--the maximum distance from our car. As it turns out, the bike trailer performs an awful lot like a sail in the wind. We could have put the rain cover on the trailer to make it more aerodynamic, and thus much easier to pull in the wind, but we didn't have the rain cover with us. 

The Clydesdale who pulls the trailer didn't bring it along for the ride in order to conserve weight (besides, we have learned that it only rains in Vegas when we go camping). The more-intelligent and better-prepared half of our marriage thought I was quite foolish for leaving said cover behind. Oh well. Live and learn.   

In the wind, I found that I actually had to pedal to go down hill, which was a bit unpleasant. I found that the harder I pedaled, the more wind drag I created (or I should have said the wind drag that the trailer created, not meaning to imply that my svelte figure created much wind drag), and the harder I had to pedal to maintain my speed. I guess my physics teacher was right after all. 

Having groused about the wind I should probably disclose that we might not have had to deal so much with the wind if it weren't for the delays created by the two flat tires that we had before we left. The first flat was on my mountain bike, and ostensibly came from my desert ride a few days ago. This took about 60 minutes for me to fix with my complete lack of technical savvy (and even getting it done in 60 minutes was fortunate, and was due completely to Karen's having come to my rescue). 

The second flat was, unfortunately, self-inflicted. I pulled the entire valve stem out of one of the tires on Jack's trailer as I tried to remove the pump from the tire after filling the tire up with air (note prior comment on lack of technical savvy). We had to stop at the bike shop to get that one fixed. Yes, this is indeed the same bike shop that I took Karen's bike to a few weeks ago to get put back together again after I drove under a sun shade with the bikes on the roof. 

We ended up riding between 10 and 12 miles, which was probably a little overzealous given the conditions (wind, trailer, hills, unknown trail, molars, etc.), but I just found the urge to see what is around the next turn and what is over the next hill to be absolutely irresistible.

 

Despite the conditions we had a great time. Jack didn't seem to mind the wind burn or the fact that he is in the midst of cutting his molars and--as always--loved being outside with his parents. 

Unemployment

When Bryce was unemployed and people would question what he was thinking of doing next, he often replied (in all seriousness) that he was trying to go back into to male modeling.  He might even embellish the story by saying modeling is how he ended up in New York in the first place.

For some reason, he gets a kick out of putting people in uncomfortable situations.  He loves watching people struggle through the dialogue in their heads.  "Bryce is kidding, right?...But what if he isn't?...Maybe I should be honest and upfront with him?  Better to come from a friend...Hurry! Just smile or say something..."

Well, Bryce was never a male model, but he is very photogenic.  I'm pretty sure these genes must have been passed down to Jack.  Just check out the versatile expressions he can give...

Next time unemployment roles around to this family, I may have to insist they both return to male modeling.  

FHE on the Range

The only thing better than a beautiful, talented, intelligent, happy, and forgiving wife is a beautiful, talented, intelligent, happy, and forgiving wife who likes to golf. 

Tonight for Family Home Evening Karen suggested that we all head to the driving range to hit some golf balls. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. We went to the range and we all had a great time. I think that we ended up hitting (blading, topping, popping-up, or crushing) about 200 balls. 

Jack can eat and golf at the same time, not unlike grandpa Bruce and uncle Wade (note the cracker in Jack's left hand). I should probably mention that Jack's short game is already better than either one of theirs. 

KW is all business on the golf course, and she has by far the cutest golf cleats on the range. 

Daddy gives Jack his first golf lesson. 

My darling wife celebrates a great shot. 

Karen maintains that the spiritual message of this evening's FHE was not using poor language on the golf course. I'm guessing this lesson was geared towards Jack. 

Mt Charleston - Hiking, Camping, Rain, & Fun!

A few weeks ago we went hiking at Mt. Charleston with our good friends (ex New Yorkers) the Hemingways.   We had a great time and--more than anything--enjoyed the cool weather.  An increase of 6000 feet in elevation can cool things off by 20 or 25 degrees.  

View on the hike

Family snapshot.  Jack taking a snooze.

On our trip we noticed several campgrounds and our friends suggested we return in 2 weeks for an overnight camp out.  All agreed. 

We began our preparations and lists -- tents, sleeping bags, lanterns, matches, menus, etc. Most importantly, we began the endless shopping trips trying to find jackets, coats, or hats.  Usually when we asked about these items we received the answer, "Oh, we'll be getting our coats and hats in 3-4 weeks."  Not exactly helpful.

The weekend arrived and we headed out.  The trip had a rough start but ended up being really fun.  

Notes for next time.

1)  Leave early from work.  Things always take longer than you think in packing up the car and setting up camp.  It was dark when we arrived making it a bit harder to prepare dinner and set up tents.  Perhaps feeding the babies dinner before we left would have helped as well.

2) Make a reservation for a campsite.  It's a scary feeling driving from campground to campground and seeing the sign "Campground Full". 

3) Send the men up ahead of time to set up camp.  There's nothing like trying to keep starving, tired one-year olds out of the way.  Tents and poles just look so fun!

4) Prepare for it to rain all night even if you do live in Vegas.  It rained all night long.  From inside the tent it sounded like a hurricane. (Luckily, Bryce and Ryan both set up the rain shields on both tents.)  

5) Ignore the weather man.

6) Take the Hemingways again.  They provide lots of great laughs and entertainment.

7) Don't buy camping chairs at Wal-mart.  They don't let you recline much or, as Bryce says, "It makes you feel like you are sitting on the toilet."  If you bring these chairs, you also run the risk that Bryce will brake the chair and then proceed to burn it in the fire with Ryan's assistance.

8) Take some family photos perhaps in front of the tent.  We missed out doing so on this trip.

Jack fascinated with the lantern

Setting up camp

My boys

Jack enjoying the morning fire