Desert Fun

Over Spring Break, we took the family on a desert camping adventure. Oh - and adventurous it was! Goblin Valley State Park is a natural playground for children and adults alike. Despite coming home with greasy hair matted to my head, and sand caked to every last bit of my body, this was one of my favorite family campouts on record.

The first night, Goblin Valley campground was full by the time we arrived, and with the nearest camp site 50 miles away, we decided to try our hand at going Pioneer Style, and found a nice primitive site snuggled against the red cliffs about 10 miles away from Goblin Valley. Within minutes, the children named it "Crystaltopia", in honor of the rather sparkly sedament rock that was lying everywhere in sight. While Andrew and I set up camp, the kids quickly established "The Crystal Club", and set to work gathering all the crystals they could find. After a long day of travel and work, nothing is quite so satisfying as lighting a matchless fire (I actually married Les Stroud from Survivor Man), and nothing tastes quite so good as sausage potatoe foiled dinners followed by smores.

 

The next morning, after exploring the natural wonders around us, we broke camp and headed to the Campgound. It was quite the adventure camping without a bathroom - and although squatting in the middle of no where has it's charms, we were all grateful (especially the girls), to have a bathroom and sink to wash in.

 

Wow! What a campsite. Completely surrounded by red rock cliffs and formations. Natural caves, and natures climbing walls in every direction. The kids were in heaven. Mom? Not so much. Not because it wasn't beautiful, but because I worried about their safety the whole time. Thankfully there were only minor injuries, and all the children gained confidence in their balance and climbing.

 

 

 

Our big adventure for the day was exploring Goblin Valley. After the trip I asked all the children what their favorite part of the trip was, and they all agreed, it was playing hide and go seek among the goblins! Such and awesome time.

 

 

 The nights here were cold, but it made for perfect weather during the day - mid 70's. I am convinced that early Spring is the best time to visit the desert. The next day was my personal favorite activity. We hiked Little Wild Horse Canyon. This is more like a long walk - not a hike, which makes it perfect for kids. Three miles of beautiful slot canyon with amazing natural formation everywhere! The kids loved it, and so did the adults. The highlights included hiding in coves within the rocks, yelling echo's, and playing our invented game of "Fire Sand".

 

The one piece of evidence that I was on the trip!



Fire Sand!!!

 

Our last night consisted of some great dinner of leftover's thrown in the Dutch Oven. It was actually very good! The kids loved it too.

 

The next morning, we broke camp, and the children said goodbye to all of their hideouts. On the way home we stopped to see some Indian Petroglyphs. We all loved it! What an amazing area of of Utah. I loved this camping trip. Our last stop was a charming restaurant in a small town. Everyone was starving, and it truly was delicious. Eliza declared "This is the BEST restaurant I've EVER been too!" Goblin Valley - I can't wait for a return trip oneday.



Home

I love to write. But sometimes, like this last year, my desire lies dorment for many months. I read a beautiful essay written my one of my favorite bloggers - CJane Kendrick, and suddenly, just like that, the need to write came to a boiling point and spilled over, until here I am - my fingers tapping furiously to keep up with my thoughts.

It is almost one year to the date that we moved into our snug apartment on Ida Lane. For a few days, I cried for the loss of my little red brick house - and the memories made there. I stood in the entrance to my living room on the day I locked the door, and handed over the keys. Staring at an empty room, I could almost hear Avonlea cooing in her swing, Rory waddling down the hallway as she took her first steps, chili bubbling on the stove, and laughter of friends as they came and went. This space had housed joy beyond my wildest dreams. During the last 6 months it also made room for my deepest, most personal sorrows. So deep and so raw, that I didn't believe the human heart had the capacity to house it.

  You see, the places we live breathe real with the life they hold, and as I stepped foot onto Ida Lane, it felt lifeless and cold. My only consolation being the two precious, warm hands that I held as I walked across the threshold. After a week of mourning our Amaryllis house, I put my shoulders back, and began to look up again. And with that decision, I started to notice things... Rory and Avonlea running up and down the hall pretending to be fairies being chased by a fire breathing dragon. Piling all of the pillows on the floor by the sofa and taking great leaps into them like a lake of cotton balls. Laying out my scriptures and favorite books on the kitchen table and devouring with an unsatiable hunger. Taking long baths in the red claw foot tub. Nights of snuggling, and falling asleep together on the couch. Hours of time spent making memories was adding up to something tangible and significant.

One summer evening in July, we walked in the door after an exhausting day of summer play, when Rory proudly exclaimed "Home Sweet Home!" And just like that, it happened. This WAS home. I've discovered that cliche's are that for a reason...they're true. That being said I can comfortably declare that "Home is wherever I'm with you."

Seasons

I love the changing of the seasons.

It's magical... the natural cycles of this beautiful world. Always changing. Always growing. Green leaves once strong and filled with life, slowly wither, turning brown and crumbly, falling to the Earth. And my favorite...after a long winter, tiny new buds begin to spring forth. A beautiful testament to natures ability to shed the life that has grown old with use, and start anew.

So are humans. One of the most significant lessons I have learned in the last year of my life is how great the triumph of the human spirit is, and it's God given ability to overcome. How small is our understanding of our own strength. How great is God's ability to work miracles in us! Many times these are miracles within the soul that only the the receiver can feel.

The summer of 2011 was a blur of agony for me. When I think back, all I can remember is heat, and pain.The swamp cooler in our home was having trouble working right, and consequently that summer was filled with sweating, and tears. Endless tears. There were so many afternoon's sitting by the baby pool at my mom's home, watching my girls splash, and giggle. It used to be one of my favorite summer pastimes...dangling my feet in the water, and enjoying the summer heat on my white skin. Not this summer. Those images of my sweet little one's were so very tainted with the fresh pain of my open wound. One night in particular, I lay on my couch in my underwear, trying to get some relief from the heat. The hum of the swamp cooler in the background. I had cried so long and hard that day that my eyes were literally swollen shut...throbbing and painful to the touch. I lay with a wet washcloth over my eyes, trying to soothe the hurt. The water dripping down the sides of my face like tears. I prayed. I prayed with all the energy of my soul. I prayed that this season of my life would come to a close, and that I would be able to find relief.

And then...something started changing for me in September. I was forced to let go the hope of my situation changing. I thought it would be so hard to do. It wasn't. It was liberating, strengthening, and downright beautiful. In letting go of the hope of my family mending, I was able to grasp the very real hope of healing. I distinctly remember an evening in early October. I was rocking Avonlea to sleep in her room. I had left the window cracked to let in the crisp air earlier in the day and had forgotten to close it. I rocked with my sweet baby in my arms, and listened to the loud howling of the cool October wind, the white Winnie The Pooh curtain waving back and forth like a flag. Then something rather magical happened. I could literally feel that wind breathing new life into my lungs. I breathed in deep, allowing the sweet scent of fall to fill my nostrils, and a voice in my mind said..."It's time." It was time to start living again. I had cried, and sweat out my sorrows enough to fill a large swimming pool, and it was time to dry up...and move forward. I kissed sweet little Avi and layed her in her crib, she didn't protest for a moment, she just watched me with her inquisitive little eyes and slowly closed them. As I climbed into my bed I could here Rory's soft, sweet snoring...that peaceful sound lulled me into the deepest sleep I'd had in four months.

The next day was cold, and I stood outside without a coat, letting little ice crystals collect on my skin, and enjoying every moment of it. I turned my face to the sky, and whispered one of the most simple and sincere prayers of my life "Thank you".

My heart got sewn back together in October...and I will forever love it for that.

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Yesterday morning as I was walking up the hill to my work building, hot chocolate warming my cold fingers - I reminisced on the beauty of change. My building is snuggled right against the East mountains...Big Cottonwood Canyon a short walk away. I could see the snow melting off the lower sections, and could almost taste the honeysuckle in the air from the trees surrounding me. I love witnessing the transition from winter to spring. My heart was swollen inside me, overcome with gratitude to God for just how far I've come. It's in these quiet moments that I can feel Him speaking to me....in the sun beating furiously upon me, in the wind through my window, in the quiet snoring of my baby girl, in the snowy crystals melting on my face, and now...in the beautiful trees along this quiet walkway.

They...like me, are just beginning to blossom.