A Day to Remember

Ten years ago today, the Badger and I hiked up to Timpanogos Cave. I was taking an upper-division Geography class at BYU on landforms and one of the requirements was to tour the cave. I decided since I had to go anyway it would make a romantic date.

It turned out to be very romantic. After the cave tour, as the Badger and I sat on a bench overlooking the canyon, he got down on his knee and asked me to marry him.

I was so surprised that I didn't say anything at first. A panicked look came over his face and he said "please???"

There wasn't anyone around to take a picture of that historic moment. But earlier this month we were at the cave again and we reenacted the scene. This time Grandpa Badger took a picture. Here we are ten years later (with our little pink and purple offspring in the background.)

What an amazing, hard, crazy ten years it's been! We would do it again. Oh, yes, we would do it again.

Here's my Badger ten years ago on the trail down from the cave (so, just minutes after we got engaged).

Here's my Badger in just about the same spot, just about ten years later.

I'm so very glad he asked. It was a good thing we started. And it just keeps getting better.

Old Treasures

The Old Schoolhouse homeschooling magazine has a promotion on right now for a bunch of free gifts with purchase of a subscription. I was going to subscribe anyway, so this is just icing on the cake. One of the gifts was a free photo calendar. I decided to use some old photos from our first couple of years of marriage for the calendar, which means I'm doing some scanning.

I was a well-trained and passionate film photographer and I resisted the change to digital. With the advent of digital scrapbooking, digital photography has become one of my great joys in life. I need to work on getting all my beautiful old prints scanned. It'll take awhile, but I did a dozen today and that's a start.

Here is Bean the day he was blessed, eight years ago sometime about now:

Here's me in February of 2000, about two months after we got married. We took a day trip down to Arches National Park (ah, the things you can do for day trips when you live in Utah!)

Here's the Badger on the Oregon coast in August of 2000. That was our first trip to the coast together. First of many.

This is one of my favorite photos I've ever taken. I believe it was the fall of 2001. The location is Kathryn Albertson Park in Boise, Idaho. We used to go on walks there every day that fall with Baby Bean. It's one of my favorite places in the world.

Roo-miniscing

She was born on a cold, still February night in mountain country. I had sensed that her gentle spirit was hesitant to arrive earthside, so I was not surprised that she was a week late. What surprised me was that she weighed 10 lbs 6 oz.

I had never seen a brand-new face so round and full. Nor had I ever seen one that radiated so much calm and wisdom.

During her first twelve months, we moved twice: once around the corner and once out-of-state. Her first birthday party took place in our new hometown on the Oregon coast and involved fresh-caught crab and gooey pink cake.

Just before her second birthday we moved a thousand miles inland to the Great American Prairie. She was the only one in our family who didn't seem to mind leaving the ocean.

Now, after a whole year on the prairie, that peaceful winter night 3 years ago in our snug little white house seems like a distant dream. We have come so far and she has come so far.

But she is still our peaceful, gentle, beautiful, wise little Roo.

MY Little Ponies!

My Little Ponies first appeared on the toy scene in 1983. I was four years old and I loved them from the start. I remember saving up and buying my first pony with my own money at the local drugstore. I think it cost $3.00 and of the original 6 it was either Minty or Bluebell. I loved my ponies. I only ever had a handful, through I remember watching the commercials for all the accessories longingly. I remember when I took a brand-new pony I had just bought, Moondancer, to some sort of function and some other little kid stole it when I left it temporarily unattended. Oh, how sad I was! Moondancer had such pretty hair! Or maybe she had a scratch-and-sniff rump. Or one of those color-change decals. I can't remember. I just remember that I loved and lost.

Anyway, they did a 25th Anniversary reissue of the 6 original ponies in packs of three.

I bought Blue Belle, Butterscotch, and Cotton Candy. And Roo got to unwrap them on her birthday.

But they are NOT for her. No, they are for me. I haven't had this much fun with a toy in a long time.

The new My Little Ponies are weird looking. I love these. Isn't she beautiful? She looks like Emma Thompson in Much Ado About Nothing.

I think I need to order the other three. And then make them act out Shakespeare.

Buried Treasure

I was burrowing around in my storage room today and I unearthed some things that haven't seen the light of day for a long, long time.

My mom made this play rug for our toy cars when we were kids.

My mother is phenomenal. Check this out: she drew our house. (For those of you in Provo, this is on 820 North and 11-something East in Provo, Utah. The park she drew behind the house is Kiwanis Park, which was just down the street.)

And she drew the local service station-- you can tell we lived right by BYU!

This is where we went to church, on 7th North and 9th East.

My kids love this thing. I'm so glad I still have it!

The Cat With the Diamond Eyes

My sister posted something on her blog yesterday that brought back all kinds of crazy childhood memories for me. You can read it here.

How All of My Kids Learned to Walk

When Bean was a baby a friend lent me this useful thingie, which I will call George, and told me that Bean would learn to walk by pushing it around. Well, he did. And so did Fish. And Roo. Now Rabbit is having fun with George. I have no idea how close she is to actually walking-- none of the others walked until 15 months. Knowing her, I think she'd like to one-up them all. I did hear her reciting multiplication tables in her sleep last night. At least I think I did-- maybe it was one of those weird dreams you have when you eat more than a dozen sugar cookies in one day.

Anyway, this is actually George the Third-- we keep borrowing them and returning them or buying them at yard sales and then leaving them behind when we move. As long as I keep having babies I will definitely keep having a George around. And as long as I keep eating too many sugar cookies in a day I will keep having babies because nursing is the only weight loss plan that has ever worked for me. So be nice to George, Rabbit, he's got to last us awhile.

The Man Who Picked Up Yaow

Today is my ninth wedding anniversary.

It was really romantic to get married right before Christmas, but it sure has made for unromantic anniversaries. We are always so busy with holiday this and that on the 21st that we are never able to do anything celebratory. We're always broke from buying Christmas presents. And we're always too sugared out to enjoy a re-creation of the wedding cake or other special treat. We pretty much don't do anything for our anniversary and we're both okay with that. We always say "we'll just do something in June for the six month anniversary" and then we always forget in June, and so it goes.

But it is a special day. And so I wish to mark it by sharing on my blog an unusual story about the extraordinary man I married.

It was April of 2007 and we were driving along Highway 101, the glorious and celebrated west coast highway, south of Bandon, Oregon. As we motored along through the misty mossy pine trees we spotted a sign that said "Eggs." We love fresh farm eggs, so we stopped. The sign led us down a dirt side road and then into a private drive. Coming up and around the curve of the driveway, we found ourselves approaching a ramshackle single-wide mobile home surrounded by rusting outbuildings and old cars. There were chickens running amok and glimpses of farm cats streaking from here to there. We knocked on the door of the trailer and an old man came out. He had long, grizzled grey hair and he was missing a tooth or two. He wore an old, ripped tshirt that was too tight and a pair of very short, tight jogging shorts that bordered on shockingly indecent. Despite his derelict appearance he was very amiable and his eggs were priced correctly so we bought. During the course of the transaction the Badger reached down and scooped up one of the farm cats and stroked it behind the ears. The cat sat peacefully in his arms until it was time for us to go. The Badger loves cats and misses having one, so that experience was a highlight for him.

So, it had been a good day. We had discovered that Bandon has the prettiest beaches on the south Oregon coast and we also now knew of a good place to buy fresh eggs not too far from home. We decided we would come back as soon as we could. We waited eagerly for another opportunity to take a trip to Bandon. It took a few weeks, but we finally got down there. And at the end of another glorious day of romping among the Bandon sea stacks we packed up our sandy kids and headed over to the egg guy's place. As we pulled in his drive we saw him sitting out on one of the old cars with a woman who looked like a suitable companion. We didn't think he would remember us. We were wrong.

The Badger got out of the car and approached the man. Suddenly the man looked surprised and turned to the woman next to him. "THAT'S the guy who picked up Yaow! That's him! He's the man who picked up Yaow!" When we looked puzzled, he explained. "Yaow never lets noone touch him. He's the meanest cat I've ever had and he claws everybody. And that guy just picked him up and Yaow didn't do nothing. He just sat there and let him pet him. I thought for sure Yaow was gonna attack him. And he didn't! He just sat there!" And so on, and on and on. He kept saying again and again to the woman, "That's the guy who picked up Yaow!" and treating the Badger like he was the Dalai Lama. We bought our eggs and drove away giggling. All the way home the Badger kept saying, in his best superhero voice, "Yes, I am the man who picked up Yaow!" and we would snort and giggle some more.

The Badger wears many titles-- husband, father, son, brother, airplane captain-- but I think his favorite is "The Man Who Picked Up Yaow."

It's obvious from that incident that I married someone remarkable in ways seen only to feline eyes. But I doubt that even Yaow could love him as much as I do.

Cinnamon Baby

The other day we put the Rabbit in the "Cinnamon Bear Suit," so called because it makes the baby look like one of those cinnamon bear candies. I bought this when I had Bean and all the kids have worn it. It really makes you want to pick them up and squeeze them.

Were the 70's Really That Orange?

One of the things I like to do on Sunday evenings is look at family photo albums with my kids. They love it. They especially love the two albums I have with pictures from my childhood. My mother gave me these albums in the late 1980s and they are the "magnetic" type that we now know to be extremely damaging to photos, so I'm always thinking one of these days I'll redo these albums...

Well, I might as well eat that elephant one bite at a time. Here is one of the gems of my collection: a studio portrait of me somewhere around my first birthday.

I scanned it in and used an enhancing tool to take the edge off the orangeness but it didn't entirely go away. However, many people have told me that the 70's really were that orange. Maybe they're right. Any of you remember?

Early Creativity

When I looked at that photo I took yesterday of the Badger holding up the finished pants he made, I couldn't help but think of this photo of the young Badger and his play dough snowman. It was too cute not to share.

Basket of Fish

At last, I found the photo of Fish in the basket. I did a lot of his newborn photos in black and white-- I was feeling artsy.

Now you've seen pictures of all my kids posing in baskets as newborns. I hope this means you've reached a new level of personal fulfillment.

(To see Bean again, click Here. For Roo, click Here. And for my Little Rabbit, click Here.)

Twenty Years of Myopia

Let's take a little trip through the last 20 years of eyeglass fashion, shall we?

I got glasses in 1988-- about fourth grade. This was my first pair:

Big plastic goggles were the thing in the 80's, and they actually suited my face quite well.
(Please excuse the goofy expression-- I was excited about my Christmas presents.)

Then the 90's came along and everyone ran out and got wire frames with nose pads, but they were still big and round. I got some halfway through 6th grade.

You know what's funny about those glasses? Their brand name was Nintendo. Perfect for 1990.

When I was a junior in high school in 1996 I befriended a computer geek named Steve who had these exact glasses. But he was really embarrassed about the Nintendo because that was NOT perfect for 1996.

At the end of 7th grade I started wearing contacts, which did wonders for my self-esteem. See how happy I look?

The summer I was fourteen I went to my church's Girl's Camp deep in the northern Minnesota woods. Partway through the week I lost a contact lens. Alas, I did not have my Nintendo glasses with me for backup, and having clear vision in only one eye really messed up my depth perception, so I made my Mom (who was one of our leaders) drive me a million miles into Virginia, Minnesota where there was a Pearle Vision at the local mall. Poor Mom, I sure put her through a lot. Anyway, I picked out another pair of goggly plastic glasses because they were still sort of in fashion and I thought they suited my face well. But I was never really happy with them, as you can see from this picture:

I wore them for awhile that summer until I could get my contacts replaced.

I didn't ever want to wear glasses again. I was an Acuvue girl and I didn't think that would ever change.

But it did. After I had Bean my eyes got really dry from hormone changes. My contacts got more and more uncomfortable so I started wearing them less and less. When I was pregnant with Fish I went into America's Best to get some replacements for the Nintendo-style glasses I had and I was amazed at how small and square-ish lenses had gotten.

And they just keep getting smaller and squarer. This time at the eyeglass store there were several pairs I thought were children's pairs at first because the lenses were so small. Pretty soon we're all going to be wearing postage stamp spectacles. With thick plastic frames.

Or else maybe we're going to go back to this:



(I think my sister is right-- I think I DO look a great deal like my Mom!)

When Do I Get to Dress Up Again?

My cousin Michelle went to her Senior Prom this weekend. She ran around all of Saturday getting her hair and makeup specially done, then she donned this beautiful dress. Her date Casey had a matching tux. Isn't she beautiful and isn't he darling and doesn't this picture make you want to go back to high school and go to a formal dance again?



Now, I did not have the best of high school experiences and I'm generally not one who yearns to go back and relive those years. In fact I was only ever invited to one formal dance (Marilyn, I am very grateful to you for twisting his arm, despite what happened later.) But I remember the fun of fantasizing about fancy dresses and hairdos, and the excitement of spending an entire day getting ready for a very spiffy date. Then when high school was over it turned into dreaming up the perfect wedding dress. And bridesmaid's dresses. And wedding reception decorations. Et cetera.

Shortly after I was married, it hit me: that was pretty much it for playing fancy dress-up. I guess if you're lucky you might get to be matron of honor at someone's wedding, or if your husband moves in certain circles there might be some kind of formal dinner, but for me I don't foresee anything like that. The next formal event I see myself getting dressed to the nines for is the wedding of one of my children, probably 20 years from now when my hair is salt-and-pepper and I will be wearing a suit, not a darling dress like Michelle's.

So it's probably over for me. However, I am finding new things to fantasize about. Do you see that dirt in the background of the photo, next to Casey's elbow? That is the section of Glenda's backyard that the Badger ran a tiller over the very morning of the day this photo was taken. Glenda and I are going to grow a very large vegetable garden in her yard this summer and I am dreaming about all the succulent organic produce I am going to harvest from that spot in just a few months. My sixteen-year-old self would think that was appallingly prosaic. I would give her a little lecture on the beauty and miraculousness of vegetables and tell her to go re-read Unclaimed Treasures by Patricia MacLachlan because gardens are just as extraordinary as Going to Prom. She would not believe me, but I hope she would heed the advice to enjoy the ball-gown times in your life before they're gone.

The Crackeroon Immortalized

When my grandmother died in 1992, one of the random things I inherited was a stuffed raccoon containing a music box that plays "It's a Small World." When Bean was about three, he latched onto it for a time and simply would not go to sleep at night unless you wound up his "Crackeroon." After awhile the music box wore out and would only play the song really slow, so I packed up the Crackeroon in a garage storage box. I wasn't ready to just throw it away, because it belonged to my grandma. It stayed in the garage the entire year we lived on the coast and Bean never even asked about it. Then, it got unearthed again during our move. (It's fascinating what turns up when you move, isn't it?) I looked at it, with its tail missing and threadbare fur and broken music box, and I almost chucked it, but I was out of room in my miniscule garbage can.

Well, then, the kids got their paws on it and Bean had this huge surge of tender feelings for his beloved Crackeroon. He decided one day that he needed to give it to Roo, even though he said something like it was going to break his heart to do it. So he put it in her crib and started winding it up for her at every opportunity. Never mind that Roo couldn't care less, I was pleased at Bean's selflessness.

Then the baby was born and Bean just knew that the Crackeroon would bring her all the joy there is to be had in life. He started bringing it in to my room and winding it up and laying it lovingly next to her, convinced it would soothe her to sleep or make her stop crying. Very sweet gestures, but unfortunately I was usually trying to go to sleep with the baby and the Crackeroon does NOT soothe me to sleep. In fact, it drives me insane. The song plays erratically and sometimes stops for hours only to suddenly play a few notes randomly when you've forgotten that the Crackeroon is even there.

The Crackeroon has been violently ejected by the Badger from our bedroom several times in the middle of the night when it decided to leak a few notes and wake us all up. The Badger, being very sensitive to noise, is very much in favor of the Crackeroon taking a one-way trip to the landfill, and I would agree except that I respect Bean's feelings of attachment to it.

However, the day of the landfill trip may be coming soon. Bean took a picture of his Crackeroon yesterday and said "I'm taking this picture so I can always remember my Crackeroon even after it's gone." And his interest in it has waned the last couple of weeks. I could probably get away with sneaking it into the big black can when he's not looking.

What do you think? Would it be callous and cruel of me to throw away the Crackeroon? Or is it time for all of us to move on?

Basket of Roo

I had a request from my friend Becca to see the basket pictures of the other kids. The boys' pictures are not digital and they are still packed from the move, but here is Roo's:

Isn't Roo's little face just so deliciously fat? She was 10 lbs 6 oz at birth and she never seemed like a newborn. She was chubby and acted like a 2 month old.

After Roo, Little Four seems so tiny to me! Every time I pick her up I say "She's so Small!"

The Basket Tradition

When Bean was a newborn, I had this awesome oval-shaped basket with a handle that just cried out to have me put him in it and take a bunch of pictures. I took basket pictures again with both baby Fish and baby Roo. However, during Roo's photo shoot, my proactive Bean decided to pick up the basket by the handle with Roo still in it. The handle immediately broke, ruining the basket but luckily not harming small Roo.

Being a sixth child who has about three total baby photos and no baby book, I'm really trying to make sure that Little Four gets most of the things her siblings got. So I found another basket. It's square and it has no handle, but it's just the right size for a newborn and I got some darling photos. Here are my three favorites:

Speaking of Strange Roo Faces....

In May of 2006 I visited my sister Emily, and that's when she met Roo for the first time. Her daughter Sophie is four months older than Roo and we put them together for a photo shoot. Emily had found this fabulous Very Hungry Caterpillar outfit at Saver's for Roo along with a jack o' lantern costume that fit Sophie at the time, so we put them both in orange for the pictures.

They turned out to be some of the funniest pictures I have ever taken of babies. The face 3-month-old Roo was pulling just got funnier and funnier. She started bugging out her eyes intently and doing this wonky thing with her eyebrows and I just know my sister was thinking "my niece is a space alien!"

I love these pictures.