Did You Know There's Wilderness 10 Min. from My House?

I didn't. But last week when we had President's Day off, we explored it. I thought any hiking venture in this area would end in disappointment, or at least end in an hour. But I was so wrong. This amazing, long-stretching wilderness is in Laguna Canyon, a 10 minute drive from our house. (Ari took this sweet pic).

Praise to the Woman

I have been reading "The History of Joseph Smith by his Mother" and let me just say that 1. Lucy M. Smith is the bomb. She and the early Saints underwent as much persecution as Joseph himself, and she is one of my new heroes. And 2. Emma Smith is so tough and inspiring. Lucy doesn't mention her much, but here's a great passage that has been on my mind for a few days now:

"Emma's health at this time was quite delicate, yet she did not favor herself on this account, but whatever her hands found to do, she did with her might, until she went so far beyond her strength, that she brought upon herself a heavy fit of sickness, which lasted four weeks. And, although her strength was exhausted, still her spirits were the same, which, in fact, was always the case with her, even under the most trying circumstances. I have never seen a woman in my life, who would endure every species of fatigue and hardship, from month to month, and from year to year, with that unflinching courage, zeal, and patience, which she has ever done; for I know that which she has had to endure - she has been tossed upon the ocean of uncertainty - she has breasted the storms of persecution, and buffeted the rage of men and devils, which would have borne down almost any other woman. It may be, that many may yet have to encounter the same - I pray God, that this may not be the case; but, should it be, may they have grace given them according to their day, even as has been the case with her."

For the Love of Baking

Not to be an advocate of full-fat living, but I've been in a baking bonanza since Valentine's Day and I don't know when I'm going to come out of it. Pre-Valentine's Day I made BHG's almost red velvet cupcakes (I ran out of food coloring) for my neighbors and co-workers plus chocolate suicide cake for Adam and me. A few days earlier (which is really what must've set this whole thing off), after encouragement from Fig, I made PW's French breakfast puffs - for dinner. Over the weekend, Adam made his mom's chocolate chip cookies for no good reason, I made another chocolate cake plus vanilla buttercream frosting for a dinner party, and after a battle with myself today, I gave in and made The Cookie Bible's double chocolate oat cookies. I don't know what to conclude about this, but I'm just going to go ahead and recommend all of them. Especially the chocolate suicide cake. Kill me now.

Hello Ruby, Namaste Owen

While Adam got butt-burn riding his bike last weekend, I went to Utah for two exciting events: the baby shower for my cousin Carrie and the farewell for my little brother Owen, who's headed on a mission to India. Here's a sampling of shots from both events.Carrie's naming her little girl Ruby. Too cute. She's debuting in March.

Why do babies get all the cute swimming suits? Also, why do babies get all the cute onesies? Who's with me on adult onesies! Here's my mom and sis, chowing and laughing - a must-do at all showers.
Heather's kid is on the right and Mim's kid is on the left.Mim, Carrie and I reunited at last! It has been TOO LONG. And the trip was way too short. But great to see them, nevertheless.

I threw a polka-dot shower with Dots for thank you goodies. Get it?

Back in Roosevelt for the farewell, the obligitory family picture.

My Grandpa H. just keeps plugging along. I treasure him every time I see him.

Owen is a madman on the piano. Just as he will be a madman missionary.

The last pics with Heather, The Boy and me. The next time we see him he'll be The Man.

Saddle Sore

Wow does my butt hurt!

Last Saturday I got together with my buddies John and Spencer for a 100 mile bike ride in Palm Springs. Yup, you read it correctly. Go ahead, go back and read it again just to be sure. That's right: Palm Springs.

Here's a quick play by play:

6:55am - 0 miles. Waiting at the starting line with 9,000 other idiots, the three of us grapple with tough questions like "how do I get back to the car if I collapse at mile 85?" and "does this lycra make my butt look fat?"

7:00am - 0.1 miles. The ride begins. We are seen off by the local high school marching band playing the Darth Vader Theme. There are cheerleaders, homecoming royalty, and those girls with the big flags. John makes a joke about band-nerds. Typical.

7:35am - Mile 8. It's warming up. John decides to take off his windbreaker without stopping. He crashes, slightly tweaking his wrist. What's amazing about this is not that John crashed. That should have been obvious. The incredible thing is that it was all captured on video.



9:20am - Mile 42. I trip the roadside camera, which captures this first class image of yours truly.



9:35am - Mile 48. Spencer bumps a guy trying to pass him. The guy exclaims, "You are not a very safe rider!" Spencer, known far and wide for his temper, yells something back about the other guy's intelligence. The situation escalates quickly, culminating in the altercation below:



11:00am - Mile 55. After a short break, I hook up with this incredible group of about 10 riders. We form a great paceline, and hold 20 to 23 mph for over an hour. I lay down several solid pulls, earning the thanks and praise of the guys in the group. Thing are looking good.

12:25pm - Mile 80. I find myself unable to hang with the group. I skip a turn at the front. Some of the guys start glaring at me. I get dropped... without a word or a even a nod. As I slip out of the draft, I slow to about 13 mph. I can hardly move. I look down at my computer: 80.1 miles. Two old ladies on a tandem pass me. I pedal for what seems like forever. I look down again: 80.2 miles.

12:45pm - Mile 85. Things I have never thought start entering my mind. I wonder what my boss would think if I didn't show up on Monday. I think about the house Martha could buy with my life insurance proceeds. I try to remember the last time I had any feeling in my crotch.

1:00pm - Mile 90. A rest stop! I hadn't seen it on the map! I roll to a stop. Somebody hands me a turkey sandwich. I guzzle a quart sized bottle of gatorade without stopping to breathe. I sit down on the pavement next to a water cooler. I stare at the ground for about 10 minutes, my mind is completely blank. Nothing. So tired. Can't move.

1:10pm - Still at Mile 90. Finally I feel my strength returning. I hop back in the saddle and take off. I feel like a new man again. Something about that turkey sandwich. I hold 19 to 20 mph for the last 10 miles.

1:45pm - Mile 100. I see the finish line! I'm right back where it all started 6 hours and 45 minutes earlier. The announcer is yelling for every person as they cross the line, like we're all sprinting to beat the peloton. In my mind Phil Liggitt is yelling: "These are DESPARATE times!" I cross the line. Someone hands me a t-shirt and a bottle of water. I look around for the ladies with the yellow dresses. They're not there. The marching band is gone too.

Fabulous in a Pantsuit

So there I was. The Hart Senate Office Building on Capitol Hill, just walkin' around lookin' around. My fellow intern, Sharine, and I had set out to go to some forum featuring non other than The Hill herself. Hillary on Capitol Hill in the Hart. It was Sharine's idea. Hillary was her American idol. Her inspiration. Her reason for being in D.C. I was just along for the walk because Hillary was just another politican giving just another speech at just another forum and somehow that seemed more bearable to me than sitting in the press office begging for something to do.

And suddenly there she was. There I was, there Sharine was, and there SHE was. Pantsuit and all. I'm thinking it was yellow, but maybe that's because my recent favorite of hers (I think worn in both Michigan and California) is the yellow one with the black lining. Anyway, I think this one was a canary yellow.

She walked out of the room we were heading into and Sharine busted out her camera in a panic. I thought to myself, I should shake Hillary's hand, introduce myself in case some day I care about her. Instead I stood by, ready to make all Sharine's dreams come true. Sharine managed to get the camera on and immediately handed it to me while asking Hillary for a shot. Hillary looked busy, she was talking on the phone, and all her people were around her. But she agreed and they stood together smiling.

I pushed the button. Nothing. Tried a few more times. Nothing. I tried a lot. And still nothing. Sharine ran over and tried to get the camera going. I kept shooting but NOTHING was taking. I couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe it. Hillary could probably believe it but had other things to think about. Hillary stood by and by and by as we tried and tried and tried and shook it and whispered mean things to it. But STILL. Nothing.

Hillary was completely unruffled. She would have stood there all day if she didn't have New York to consider. And just like that, her camp moved on. She said she was sorry but had to go. She was so nice, so patient, all the while talking simultaneously on the phone AND to everybody else. There she went...back to the elevator. Back on the train below. Over to the place where people make the big decisions. And never back into Sharine's life again.

Sharine had a few words to say about it. Mostly swear words.

And I left with the feeling that someday I was going to slightly regret not shaking her hand. Just to say I did it. Just in case she and I would sport the same hairdo at the same time. Just in case she made history. Just in case she actually DID do it all while looking fabulous in a pantsuit.

Maybe There's Hope

When Adam got back from the beard harvest last week (aka, working in Sacramento), I knew we had a chance at beating this thing. This thing called Body Double. He's growing it for the Savior of the World production. We're in the angel choir and the Thespian Leaders want everyone to look authentic. It's only natural that I should go blonde about that time. Totally ancient en vogue. Adam has also taken to the streets, Bicyclists Against Body Doubles. He's so passionate about distancing himself from my look, I can only admire him. I also learned how to use clippers correctly so he's got more hair this haircut around. I know you're all so interested so I'll keep documenting our progress. The most exciting is this beard development...he's never made it past 10 days and today we're going on 9!!

PS - If Hillary wins Super Boos-day, have I got a story for you.