The Trek

To commemorate Pioneer Day this year, our family will be taking part in a trek reenactment. Just like our Mormon ancestors we are heading West. Not to stay. Because although it is the place, it’s not the place for us.* Sorry Brigham.
But unlike the blessed, honored pioneers, we’ll be getting airline pretzels and a complimentary drink (I always choose cranberry juice, I could have any drink in the world and I always choose cranberry juice, why is that?).


Our plan is to arrive in Phoenix on the 23rd, and stay in Mesa. This is a good time to ask,

hey Dave and mostly Raquel
(because she is the woman you know, Keeper of the House),
can we crash at your place? : )
There's a cute nephew in it for you!

And we’ll be departing from Las Vegas on the 4th of August.

Here’s where we need your help!

We want to see as many as you as possible! We have been away for TWO YEARS, come June.
Please let us know what day, time of day and venue would work best for us to meet up!

FOR VALLEY RESIDENTS:
Mesa, AZ. Our first stop. We were hoping to be there from the 23rd -26th.
We were thinking of meeting up to catch-up at a restaurant for lunch or dinner. Have any ideas?
I prefer A/C. ALWAYS.

FLAGSTONIANS:
Flagstaff, AZ. Stop numbero dos. We were thinking the 27th-29th?
We’ll be staying with my parents. We’d figure one night we’d go out to dinner with just my family: mom, dad, Tommy and Jody and their families. I’m dreaming of thinking Salsa Brava. : )
Then on another day catch-up at the Institute of Religion (da TUTE!), just drop by to play some pool and ping pong like the good ol’ days.
We are open to other suggestions as well, just remember that we’ll have

a free-range toddler.

DIXIE:
St. George, UT. Aw, where our family began.
We’ll be staying with Michael’s parents for the remainder of our stay. Just relaxing, chilling with family. But if you are in the area maybe we can go to the dollar theater or do a session at the temple together?

So, PLEASE
e-mail me, facebook me or comment below and let us know!
For our Eastcoast readers, what complimentary drink should I get?

…Will Angela finally meet Heather?
… Will Caleb finally unite with his long-lost abuela Thomson?
… Will we have enough arms to hold all the new babies?!
(gulp, some of them are toddlers now or will be by the time we arrive!)

Stay tuned.

*I’m fully aware of the jinx I casted upon myself and my family by typing this sentence. Ten years down the line we’ll end up in Utah. Probably for generations. My posterity will say things like “real” this and “real” that, and have a rigorous diet of jell-o, J Dawgs (rated R) and peanut butter. On the up side, they won’t have to make funeral potatoes with tater tots.

Le sigh.

Heredity.

No one told Caleb that when he inherited our curly hair,
he inherited bad hair days.

Sorry Bud.

Hit or Miss

Mike and I
have this thing.

Some would consider it unromantic.

For holidays, birthdays, and anniversaries we make lists. A catalog of gifts we would like to receive. We exchange these lists via e-mail and keep our fingers crossed, although as a recipient we have nothing to lose. No real surprises. No grand gestures. But also no returns, no pretenses or useless clutter.
Did I mention my aversion to surprises? So this system is ideal. Unless you have a husband who doesn’t follow said system and makes an anarchical purchase some holidays.
This Christmas I got the usual: apparel and sweets. And a rogue gift.
From, who else,

Michael.

(Caleb wouldn’t dare. He knows better… or cares less. Either or.)

A present is really a lot like the game Battleship: a hit or miss.
Sure, no matter how the gift is categorized, as a hit or a miss, it fills a niche. You know, ‘it’s the thought that counts’ notion.

But wouldn’t it be great to give a meaningful present always? To know the needs and desires of others? Now I’m not talking Twilight Zone perception (Have you seen that episode? Good one.) but rather Heavenly Father’s ability to give perfect gifts to his children. (Matt 7:11)

A couple of months ago there was an essay on Segullah that discussed miss-the-mark service. The essay hit home for me, and is one I reread.

I have tried to be more prayerful regarding the needs of those around me, inside and out of my home. I fall short often as most would, but it is important to evaluate and progress.



I am in accord with President Kimball who said, “It is by serving that we learn how to serve,” but I would go even further to say it is by being served that we learn how to serve.

An instance of service that was meaningful to me, that I relate often, happened shortly after I had Caleb. Our apartment was in shambles, littered with moving boxes. My sink: a place where flatware goes to die. I was a new mother with a four week old, gone was the token week of Relief Society meals. Gone was my sanity and beauty sleep. After returning from an extended family vacation, my visiting teacher was surprised to hear I had delivered and quickly offered to bring me dinner. Alms of chicken salad sandwiches (with walnuts and grapes!), fresh fruit, veggies and brownies. I don’t remember ever telling her about my favorite meal (the perceptive meal is still, to this day, speculated in our family to urban legend proportions) but we sure appreciated the thought. Knowing how much I appreciated that service, we often provide a meal for families around the second month of postpartum.


I know I benefit from an open ear and a closed mouth, as well. I am glad I have such an audience that enters my Coliseum, La Scala or my Apollo and leave with pursed lips, knowing what they have witnessed is sacred in it’s own right. Unmentionable.

I would like to think that Heavenly Father provided a wondrous, ponderous gift when he gave me Emma. In so many ways I have been schooled, but still I am incomplete. Irritable about the words people would sluff off without regards, I would marvel at the insensibility of others, vowing to never do the same.
Last month, I said something tactless to someone who needed console. Before I even completed the sentence, I wish I could catch the spewing words in cupped hands beneath my mouth. They might as well been vomit! I was sad I had said such a thing.

I still have learning enough to do.

PS The rogue present was beyond acceptable (whew)
and I welcome the tame chaos my husband adds to my life. : )