Lake Lemolo

Jonathan has had Scott Rigdon's boat out on loan and wanted to get one more trip out of it before returning it so a fishing he did go!  I LOVE fishing.  I really do, and wanted to go with him but yesterday I just had that feeling of fall in the air, pears that were perfectly yellow, piles and piles of dirty clothes (from being neglected as I have been a slave to pears for the past 10 days), and a kitchen that was buried in canning jar rings, water bath canners, cookie sheets with jars of sticky pears needing to be washed, labeled,  and put away.  There were no clean white shirts for the Sabbath (it takes 5 of those around here), no milk in the fridge and so much work to be done, so he took the three big ones and I kept the little one and we divided and conquered.  I would dare say my tasks for the day were easier than his.  However, with much love and a lot of patience he managed to fish all afternoon with three hooligans on boat in the middle of Lake Lemolo.  And they even caught a few!

Matthew literally threw in his line as soon as they got to the lake and that very instant he caught a 15" rainbow trout.  Way to go Idaho!

Adam's "whopper" as he calls it was the largest rainbow trout.

That's my husband, fishing until it is dark and trying to load the boat by the light of the moon.  The boys with the catches of the day.  Jonathan was the only one to catch a brown trout.

Adam

Matthew

Andrew didn't catch a fish, but he was a proud part of the brotherhood.

Every Fiber of My Being Ain't Cliche This Time

I love the man that I married to the very inner core of my being. Though the following pictures might cause one to think otherwise, I went through hell for him.  It may have been majestic hell, but it was nothing short of it.  

The story.

Jonathan is a man of ambition.  Far more ambition than I will every acquire in this life.  He wants to do and see things.  Gain life's experiences that are to be had.  I on the other hand, find life's richest joys holding still, sitting with my feet on the ground watching grass grow.  This isn't even a small exaggeration.

When we moved to Oregon Jonathan became aware that in a day's flight his little Cessna could carry him from the lowest place on earth to the highest place in the lower 48 states within a single day.  Come on now isn't that cool?  To do both in one day.  Who would dare to leave this life behind without seeing dirt really far down and dirt really high up all before you brush your teeth and tuck yourself back in bed.  And so he set off to run a 13 hour flight and see both.

The original plan was for Jonathan and his good buddy, and fellow pilot, Craig Vana to make the flight together but the day before the planned trip Craig was not longer able to make the flight.  I was adamant that he didn't fly solo.  He tried a few other buds but NO ONE could go with him so who was the sitting duck, me.  8:00 p.m. the night before the flight I called my sister in Redding and begged her to watch my children ALL day so I could make sure Jonathan didn't die on this flight.  I don't know what I was thinking.  A lot of help I was going to be.  She obliged and I dropped everything, put the kids in the car and reached Redding by 11:00 p.m. the night before the flight.

Saturday morning Jonathan was up early and flew to Redding to pick me up.  And so the adventure began.  The flight route was Grants Pass to Redding, Redding to Carson City, Carson City to Death Valley, Death Valley to Bishop, Bishop to Redding, Redding to Grants Pass.

Let me explain a little about flying.  There is something wonderful that happens the higher you fly.  The turbulence settles down when you get over about 10,000 feet.  This is a great cruising altitude.  The only problem is that when you go higher than that to keep things smooth you run low on one basic element, oxygen.  I get really motion sick so Jonathan was trying his best to keep us high and smooth.  We did fine for a bit but then the yawns kicked in.  I could not stop yawning no matter how hard I tried.  I checked my oxygen levels with a pulse oximeter and was a bit low so we dropped in altitude and enjoyed the bumpy ride.

Besides needing a nap mid-air, Redding to Carson City wasn't bad.  We landed fine in Carson City to fuel up.  As I was standing outside the plane while Jonathan was fueling I took a good look at this 60 year old plane and told Jonathan his plane was a piece of junk.  It really is.  Insulted, he looked at me and said, "She may be molting, but she is still a majestic bird."  So I jumped back in Madame Molt and we took off again.

Death Valley, the world's lowest point, might as well be near the earth's core.  It is SO HOT and so WICKED TURBULENT flying into that place I barfed my sweet heart out.  I was very thankful Jonathan swiped a few barf bags from the hospital because they were used multiple times on this flight.  The best part of throwing up in turbulence is that as you press your face against the bag to create a seal each time the plane is bucked up and down the barf splashes back into your face.  There is a repeated motion of heave and splash back, heave and splash back.  Mmmmm, one to remember.

We landed.  It is so hot in Death Valley if you sit down on a toilet right after it has been flushed your backside gets steamed from the water that rushes in.  That was one of the weirdest sensations I have every experienced.  Maybe I should have titled this post, "What Happens in Death Valley Stays in Death Valley."  We had a hamburger and I bought mint gum to ease the nausea for the next leg and we took off.  Death Valley has a really short runway and no place to get gas.  If you are fully loaded with gas you can't get enough lift to take off so we had to fly with limited gas to get off the ground.  Settles the mind doesn't it?

Next venue was Mt. Whitney.  The highest altitude in the continental U.S.  This leg really was beautiful.  The sun was nestled in the clouds, the mountains were majestic, the plane was cool as we climbed higher and higher and my nerves flying over those peaks were hammered.  When I saw the altimeter get to 13,000 feet the fear of low oxygen, mountain updrafts and downdrafts, and dying was more than I could take.  I started throwing up again.  And what does the pilot do now?  He lets the plane fly itself and takes pictures of me throwing up.  Some things are meant for viewing on home computers only.  I spared you the action shots and share only the enlarged barf bag.

 I was so done flying at this point I wanted to cry.  We made it over the mountain peaks but now we REALLY needed gas.  The turbulence had settled but I sat for the next 45 minutes watching the fuel needle bounce on one very specific letter of the alphabet, "E".  I wasn't okay with that.  Jonathan was 100% confident we would be fine but all I saw was a white needle not just pointing to, but touching that big "E".  White knuckled I sat.  You know, enjoying the scenery.  

Unthwarted by the "E" we made it to Bishop.  I got out of the plane laid down on the asphalt runway and fell asleep.  Jonathan fueled up and chatted for awhile with some German tourists watching little planes take off and land.  I had to get back in that heap of tin once more.  Only one more leg, 3 more hours and I'd be DONE.  I would have rather delivered triplets in a covered wagon but I got back in.  Because the Lord loves me the stretch back to Redding was fairly smooth, flat land.  No mountain peaks and drafts, no extreme temps, just normal flying.  Believe it or not I didn't throw up on this stretch.

We landed in Redding as the full moon was shining.  Done.  Never again.

He better know how much I love him. 

Sun shining bright

Tahoe

Mt. Whitney

Carson City

I still like him.

The snack of champion pilots.

Can't remember the name of this crater.

Death Valley, very exciting.

Yes, the bag.

Lowest place on earth.

So happy to be there.

Negative altimeter reading.

Mt. Whitney

If you throw up enough the smiles return.

The full moon that shone the way home.

Flying above the clouds... AKA "yawning" altitude.

Nothing but mountain peaks to fly over.  Settles the nerves.

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Happy Father's Day

Hungry, Hungry, Hippo - Revised

Okay, so I thought I was a super hilarious mom and in our Hungry, Hungry, Hippo clean-up session I put two marbles in my eyes, squinted to hold them in place and super cheesed the boys.  Wow, I rate right up there with super tricky awesome moms.  Or, so I think.  See Michael has always been our meek, mild little guy that just goes with it.  But he upped me on this one.  A few hours after my eyeball session he came into the kitchen with his new giddy-up on.  A marble in each ear.  I wonder how long he sat in the middle of the living room floor trying his eyes before he figured out they fit just right in his ears?  Ya, he was funnier and more clever than I was.  Some mom have to keep marbles out of their kids mouths, not me.  We've found better holes to put them in.  I laughed and laughed.

Redwood Elementary

I love being the mother of a nerd. Adam received an award for being the top AR reader in second grade for his school with 346 Accelerated Reader Points.  The awesome thing, he was the the 3rd top reader in the school ousting all the 3rd, 4th, and 5th graders with the exception of 2.  The even more awesome thing?  He did all of his reading in 2 trimesters whereas the rest of the grades had 3 trimesters accumulate points.  Second graders aren't allowed to test on books until after their first trimester of school has been completed.  So he did in two trimesters what it took others to do in three and he still ousted all the upper clansmen.  What a crazy reading stud huh?  I was proud of him.  Now if I can just get him to harmonize and conquer the piano he will be the pinnacle of some girls dreams.

Mrs. Davidson awarding Adam his award.

Now besides READing what goes on at Redwood Elementary at the end of the school year??

Well,

 we chuck rubber frogs to have a good time...

 bright green rubber frogs at hula hoops.

 We play tick-tack-toe with soaking wet sponges.

 Grove with super cool friends.  Like the other two nerdiest kids in the school.

 Get tripped up in bright orange gunny sacks.

 Play Picasso on the asphalt.

 

 Blow mondo bubbles with Mom's homemade super bubble recipe and wands.

Get super wet, and play duck, duck, goose.

Then chow down popsicles with our buds and go home.

HELLO SUMMER HERE WE COME!!!!!!!!

The Perfect Gift...

When it comes to gift giving I think I have mastered the art.  Six months ago at Christmastime I was trying to decide what to give Jonathan for Christmas.  I hate "stuff" and we have quite a collection of it so I decided to give him "fun" instead.  The perfect part of my gift giving... I gave him two tickets for "fun" instead of just one.  So, darn it, I had to go along.

And I did, six months later.

It was WELL worth the wait.  With my sister Wendy's help in executing the conniving I got us tickets to the musical Wicked in Sacramento.  She watched the boys overnight and Jonathan and I celebrated Christmas in June.  Might I just say that I absolutely loved the musical.  I was enthralled by it the entire time.  It is amazing how a story I have known my entire life was twisted and turned and became so entertaining. What a walloping fun time.  It was almost as perfect as GGGGGGGG-Linda the good witch ;-)

And how do we make our little stay in Sacramento even better than just a musical?  We throw in a trip to the Sacramento temple and dinner at the firehouse restaurant.  The temple was beautiful.  It was the first time we have visited there.  The entire temple grounds and little "compound" if you will atop the bluff is beautiful.

Dinner was to die for.  I ate many a things I can't pronounce nor can I identify.  But they were really good.  See, aren't I a fabulous gift giver?  I think Jonathan enjoyed his Christmas present almost as much as I did.  If he's lucky we might see a repeat performance next Christmas.

When you move do the bees go too?

Well, if they manage to get on the bus they do.  We bought a house here in Grants Pass and moved a mile down the road from our rental.  It is great to be home owners again.  Our last place was the first Jonathan and I have rented since we have been married.  We have owned 4 homes but never rented.  I can see how it can have it's perks if they let you put holes in the walls.

Anyway, at 11:00 pm we decided it was cool enough to move the bees.  The boys were all asleep so we locked them in the house and went to the rental to move the bees.  When it is cold they return to the hive to stay warm.  We covered the hives in screening material and then VERY SLOWLY moved all four hives.  The cop that drove by at midnight slowed as he saw two crazy people illuminated by a porch light sneaking through a gate with beekeeping veils on hauling around stacks of white boxes.  Probably not typical.  Anyway.  We managed to get them loaded, moved and unloaded with only one sting.  Whew!  The little dears pictured below are the gals that didn't make the departure time.  Jonathan went back to check for strays the next night and found those that were not in the hive all clustered together trying to figure out what in the world happened to home.  I am sure they all were wishing they had a pair of ruby red slippers by this point.  Jonathan did his best to get as many as he could, but we always lose a few.  

So the moral of the story is, be home by curfew.