Detours
9:30 PM - Posted by Bobbi - 0 comments
I've been to many stunning places around the world. So far, my favorite place to visit has been the Greek Islands. I hope to go back someday.

But I digress. There are so many lovely places in our own country, too. Really. I lived in different parts of one of the most beautiful states in the U.S. for a very, very long time. Even places like the birch forests around Fairbanks or the flat, treeless tundra of the North Slope - both of which seem rather uninteresting - hold remarkable beauty. I still remember how the snow sparkled in the moonlight or how the Northern Lights danced or how the tip of the teasing winter sun peeked above the horizon before back dipping below. I remember glaciers and mountains and waterfalls. I remember the Kenai and the Chilkoot and the Inside Passage.

But that is only one kind of beauty. Alaska does not boast a slow spring or a colorful fall. There are only two seasons: winter and summer. Autumn colors are reserved for states like Washington or Wisconsin. Alaska has mountains, yes, but they are typically covered in snow - the jagged peaks sticking out from the white drifts.

I have been to Utah several times now and every time I spent most of my trip in Utah Valley. It's suburban, but has grown into a sort of urban jungle, as briefly described in my last post. In the past, visits to Utah meant we stayed close to Robinson's family; however, since we had planned to drive down to Cedar City for a couple of days to say good-bye to the Adams Theatre, Robinson promised to take me to Zion National Park.

I have never been to the Southwestern United States or the Grand Canyon or even the desert. In high school, a friend of mine went to Arizona or New Mexico and brought back some of the local plants in ziplock bags - the Yucca being the only one I can recall. The Native Americans used to make shampoo from the root, my friend had said. There were some tiny delicate flowers, too, but I do not know their names.

Up until now, Utah was the closest I have ever come to the area, so it is the only place from which I could draw my experiences. Even those experiences, however, are limited to northern Utah. The area hills look like a tel I would have excavated in Israel. But again, I digress.

Perhaps my favorite part of this trip to Utah (besides visiting family) was witnessing a different sort of beauty. I could go on and on about the magic of Zion; how the place seemed other-worldly with its red rock and picturesque scenes, but I'll let the pictures prove it to you. I took almost 200; these are my favorites.

We hiked the Emerald Pools, traveling all the way to the upper pool. We exited through part of the Angel's Landing trail back to the Grotto Trailhead. It took us much longer than it should have, for we stopped to take pictures along the way. 

Since it was August, it was hot. I gained a respect for all the flora and fauna that could survive out here. I got so excited seeing my very first cactus. (Alaskan deserts sport low-bush cranberries, crow berries, lichens, and misses - quite the distinction between hot deserts.) We saw at least three tiny lizards along the trail and a very surprised snake sunning itself upon a rock at the Upper Emerald Pools before I rudely interrupted it. It indignantly swam to a safer rock, out of my reach.

For the last hour of our trip, we caught the bus and drove into the heart of Zion. There wasn't enough time to actually hike any of the trails in the area, but that only means we'll have to come back again. 

Have you been to Zion? What trails did you hike? Did you feel the magic there, as I did?

Blessed be.


Trip to Utah
7:04 AM - Posted by Bobbi - 0 comments
Sometimes I feel a little isolated from family. This isn't new. I had felt separated from them even in Fairbanks because it was a six-hour drive across half the state. (For the record, the distance between Beloit and St. Louis is closer than that!) My sisters and my mom live in Alaska. My dad, because he is retired, spends half the year in Alaska and the other half here in Wisconsin. I do have a pocket of extended family around the farm up north - my aunt, who I am very close to, for instance - but we typically see her only about once a month. It's a nice treat when we get to spend time with them. 
Most of Robinson's family lives in Utah, so we visit with them far less - mostly because two of his brothers and father tend to stay close to home. His third brother and his partner live in Ohio and we see them once a year. We had not seen Oldpa (Robinson's dad) since we moved to Beloit two years ago, so we decided to spend almost two weeks in Utah so that the boys could spend lots of time with the other side of the family. 

About this same time, I learned that a friend of mine from college was pregnant and expecting a little boy. Another college friend thought it would be a fabulous reunion if the three of us could get together and reminisce about the "good old days" and catch up on all the amazing things that happened. She lived in San Diego, just a quick two-hour flight from Salt Lake City. I would be leaving the boys for three days - plenty of time to enjoy with Robinson's family.

Oldpa took us to the Timpanogos Caves. The hike up is arduous, with a lot of switchbacks and steep trail, but the boys were champs. We took breaks every now and then on the way up, but they never once asked to be carried. Oldpa was pretty impressed with them, and to be honest, so was I. They found the "tunnels" on the trail fascinating and loved running along the yellow paint that marked areas of falling rock. They searched for the copper trail markers as well as the wooden plaques that lined the trail.  

Arthur loved the inside of the caves and as we walked through the caverns, he reflected upon the similarities of this cave to the Cave of the Mounds. Balin, on the other hand, was not quite as inspired by the view as his brother. He fell asleep half-way through the cave and had to be carried and it's not easy to schlepp a 35-pound four-year-old through dark, dimly lit tunnels! Strangely enough, this is not the first time we've had to carry Balin through a cave. 

This was not my first time to Timpanogos; I had been once before, when Robinson and I were still dating, but the place had not changed much - although it was much, much busier than I remember. 

Robinson grew up in Utah and marveled at how much it had grown. Homes had been built up mountains and next to large freeways. Shopping centers lined the exit ramps of the freeways and the prison - which at one time had been in the middle of no where - sat amongst houses, businesses, and office buildings. Even Orem, his hometown, had melded into Provo, Sandy, and Salt Lake City, creating a mess of suburban sprawl. It was surreal. 

Still, this development also brings more cultural activities and entertainment such as museums and restaurants - so many new and exciting things to explore, both in Utah Valley and in Cedar City. Oldpa tried his hardest to keep us busy: we spent most of our days at different museums and attractions: the Museum of Natural Curiosity (water, climbing walls, and buttons to push - what's a kid not going to like about that?), the Museum of Ancient Life at Thanksgiving Point (read: dinosaurs), and Hogle Zoo (read: animals). I think Oldpa was glad when we finally left so that he could return to his normal routine!

Robinson also took the boys (via train) to Temple Square where they saw (and were greatly unimpressed by) the Salt Lake Temple. Arthur did, however, enjoy the large pipe organ.

Oldpa and Grandma Chris promised to keep the boys while Robinson and I drove down to Cedar City to watch a play before the Adams Theatre was torn down later this summer. Robinson had fond memories of this place, as he and his high school theatre chums would often take trips to watch plays and perform.

Robinson also marveled at how much Cedar City had changed, too. Shoney's and their all-you-can-eat bacon had disappeared. The new theatre was already under construction. And Cedar City now boasted a winery(!): the Iron Gate Winery. Most of the wines that we sampled were pretty good - with the whites being far superior in taste than the reds (though none were as amazing as the Cedarburg's Cedar Creek Winery's Marquette, Settlement Gold, or La Belle Vie.)

We ate dinner at the Depot Grill: an old train station that had been remodeled into a restaurant. It was delicious. After dinner, we walked to the Adams Theatre and saw an excellent production of "The Taming of the Shrew." The whole affair was an interesting glimpse into my husband's past and I felt lucky to share it with him.  

He also took me to Zion National Park...but more on that in a future post. 

Finally, before we headed to the airport in order to fly back to Wisconsin, we stopped by the cemetery that Oldma is buried. Arthur has very few memories of Oldma - he tells me that one of the only things he remembers of her was that she was lying in "some kind of bed" - her coffin, at her funeral. He was not quite three at the time. She died before Balin was born, so all Balin only knows Oldma through the cassette tapes that she and Oldpa made for them, complete with songs and stories. They listen to them every night.

Sometimes I wonder what she would have thought about my boys, her grandsons. I wonder if she would have laughed at their antics and encouraged them. I wonder if they would have reminded her of her own boys.   

Ah, but enough now. I find myself coming to tears. She is missed.

Blessed be.


It's Always Christmas

2:26 AM - Posted by Bobbi - 0 comments
I apologize for my absence, dear Reader. Some of my family was in town.

When family visits, it's a guarantee that we will be spending most of our time eating (with my dad), shopping (with my mom), and playing games (with my nephew).

For the last two weeks, it's been nothing but noise and chaos. My mom and nephew were here. Molly, my niece, tagged along because she wanted to play with Arthur and Balin. Aunt Joyce debated about coming up to visit, but in the end decided she didn't want to brave the hailstorms brewing in Iowa. Her car was new and she feared it would get damaged. Dad came down from the farm a couple of times, hemming and hawing about how there wasn't enough room to fit so many people.

But we managed, somehow. Everyone had an actual bed (although for some reason Josh kept insisting that he and my mom keep switching rooms - it became a nightly ritual to ask: "Where are Molly and Nana sleeping tonight, Josh?"). I bought groceries every few days instead of once a week. We played a game - sometimes two - every night. I was constantly on, entertaining, hosting. It was wonderful and awful at the same time.

Wonderful because I miss these crazy people. I miss seeing them regularly and knowing what's going on with them. Sometimes we'll have family FaceTime or Skype sessions to catch up, each of them telling me in turn what's been going on with them.

Awful because there's so much pressure to do something with everyone. It was a bit of a challenge to find activities that everyone would enjoy and were close. We only have one car, so there were a few moments when I had to shuffle everyone back and forth in two car loads.

All in all, I think everyone had a good time.

I hope Josh enjoyed getting out of his comfort zone a bit when he drove a go-cart or went down a water slide or floated around in a paddleboat. He learned how to play Pokemon and showed his young cousins how to play Skylanders. I hope he liked the haunted places we visited, even though we didn't see anything particularly scary.

I hope Mom liked the food I prepared and that she didn't mind when I included onions in almost all my dishes and that she didn't feel insulted when I only picked out a few items of clothing during our shopping trips and that she knew how much the boys would miss her when she left.

I hope Molly reconnected with her cousins and that she doesn't see me as such a foreign entity anymore and that she had fond memories of Wisconsin. I hope to see her again soon.

Did you spend time with family this summer? What did you do?

Blessed be.