Cain't we do nuthin normal??

We travel to get away from the every day stress and strain that keeps us one tick away from the hands of the Grim Reaper... I think we would have been better served to used his travel services. It couldn't have been more painful.

I got no sleep last night. Okay, I got sleep. Just not a lot of it. I wasn't too excited to sleep, I was awakened by all sorts of things and had my sleep disturbed by frankly stupid dreams. So, baggy eyed but filled with the eager-eyed youthful confidence borne of complete stupidity, I gathered myself at 3:05 a.m. The alarm DID NOT go off... I just woke up in a panic that we'd be late. This must be the example of where stress is a GOOD thing.

THURSDAY MORNING, JULY 19th:
I got Kari up. She stayed in the guest room overnight so Fred wouldn't have to drive her to the airport since Beth was coming to pick me up anyway. It just didn't make sense to add more cars to the mix of trying to get people to the airport.

We did whatever ablutions that decency required according to our personal tastes, then fortified ourselves with some breakfast. I don't like to fly on a really full stomach. Beth arrived about 4:45 a.m. and we chucked our luggage in the back of the truck, jumped in and headed to her house where Pete was waiting to take three of his four "wives" to the airport.

Lest you get the wrong notion, we became his "wives" due to a joke that happened as he drove a vehicle emblazoned with an LDS sticker and a lone man in the car with three women who would join Beth at the concert to see Sugarland. So it was totally a "Sister Wives" moment.

Anyway, the "wives' were dropped of at Huntsville International. Only Beth got the smooches. Hmm. This "Sister Wives" thing seems to be a wee bit one sided, but I'll forgive them since they are actually married and all in love and all that mush. When we got settled into the seats for the flight, I remember how thankful that I am that we have this opportunity to "de-stress".

The flight to Dallas was marked with laughter and hilarity. I'm sure the people around us were not so amused. But the flight attendant was and she pitched right in with our mayhem. Gotta love people who are fun to be around! Anyway, we got to Dallas ahead of schedule (YEAH!) and tried really hard not to kill anyone as we exited the plane in a frantic attempt to find a bathroom before wardrobe malfunctions and mopping were required.

When we got into the Dallas airport, we hauled down to the gate to await the next leg of the adventure. I say leg because we sure got punted. Right through the uprights of life. Xan and Kari's phones both rang with the delightful news that our flight had been CANCELLED.

Yep. CANCELLED.

Welcome to the airline eternity that is Dallas.

How in the name of all that is holy can they cancel our flight after taking the money for said flight?? Is this SATAN airlines??? Bait and switch of the rankest kind!!!

We were informed by the delightful people on the phone that we needed to haul buns to Gate 24 and see Customer Service. Oh, that sounded promising. NOT!!

Turns out, we could be rerouted all over the nine kingdoms and land in Salt Lake City at about midnight and still have to collect a rental car and drive to La Verkin to pick up Sherri. That wasn't a viable option. They said they could fly us to Phoenix and then up the line to SLC. They even offered an option that involved Grand Junction, Colorado and one that would reroute us from Dallas to San Diego then back to Salt Lake City.

TOMORROW.   Holy flaming cow pies!! Are you KIDDING ME??? I do not intend to spend the night in the Dallas airport if I can help it. NO WAY! For the record, I have had the spend the night in the airport treatment TWICE.  I didn't like it either time.

Then, as our spirits were flagging and we were feeling dejected, just as we had given up hope of any possible break, the NEW delightful and harried ticketing lady at the ticketing counter who replaced the other harried and tired counter service lady who needed a break told us there was a flight to Vegas.

VEGAS!!! Oh joy! The mecca of sin and indulgence and the bonus of being closer to picking up Sherri and getting all of the happy campers together. And it beat the heck out of all the other options! NICE!! And we'll take FOUR SEATS, please.

While trying to arrange for ticketing, Beth was on her cell phone ninety to nothing trying to sort out our unexpected change in destination and where we'd get ground transportation from National Car Rental. Frantic phone calls to the car rental place's toll free number to beg their indulgence and rearrange the rental from SLC to Vegas ensued and everything finally got arranged. For a bit, it was touch and go with abnormally high fees added to the mix which was not making anyone very happy. Not in the least of miserable was Beth. But mercifully, a solution was forthcoming.

Incidentally, while all of the automotive drama was going on, I was at the ticketing desk negotiating with the delightful woman who had a gazillion unhappy passengers to reroute. We got the last 4 seats on the flight.

THE LAST FOUR SEATS!!

Did I mention those last four seats were BY THE TOILETS? Yes! By the toilets. Yippee.

I think we had that happen the last trip we made except it was LEAVING Las Vegas. Explain something to me if you can? WHY are all desperation seats involving Las Vegas always near the outhouse? Is that some kind of metaphor to which I am blissfully unaware?? Some kind of reminder that "Sh --- it happens"?

Wait. Don't answer that, please.

We finally got into Vegas from Dallas. Yeah! Triumph! Joy! Excitement! All of the euphoria was short lived. Like an epic tale from Homer, we trudged to the designated luggage corral to await the glory and wonder of the checked bag. But, in true mythological fashion, there was no bag.

NO BAG. NO STINKIN' BAG!! NOPE! NOPE! NOPE!!

And Satan laughed. It was big, evil, full-bellied and ugly. His menacing guffaws were aimed right in our direction. Our combined checked bag of personal items flew to SLC. On time. With no trouble. No rerouting. No delay. How delightful in that way that I totally mean NOT!!!

While OUR flight as mere mortal passengers to Salt Lake City was indeed cancelled and rerouted, our beloved baggage, however, was granted a FINE flight on time and to the chosen destination of SLC with no problems at all. Please explain that to me?? How is it that LUGGAGE is treated differently from the persons to whom it belongs? Sometimes it just doesn't pay to get up in the morning. Grr.

Maybe next time, we should just save time and check ourselves as luggage. Then we and our actual luggage might arrive TOGETHER. Unless the airlines gives our luggage first class seating and those little towels with lemon you can freshen up with...

When the weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth subsided, it was determined that we should go ahead and pick up the rental vehicle and escape the airport before we went berserk on the luggage lady in the tiny room to the side of the luggage corrals. Grabbing up our carry on gear and hauling to the rental car area for more negotiations with National about how all of this fun was going to work out, we were kindly granted a larger vehicle than originally planned. It was a nice little GMC SUV that was spacious, roomy and more importantly, had EXCELLENT air conditioning since Las Vegas was about a million and a half degrees by then. God bless National car rental service! Someone deserves a kiss directly on the lips!

Seats were dropped and luggage loaded aboard as I took the keys from the nice man who assisted us while Beth was down in the rental office inside the terminal wrangling the paperwork necessary to escape with the SUV. I cranked the AC up and slid down the windows so the confined heat could be pushed outside and leave room for the delightful coolness that would save us from becoming so much goo on the pavement in the parking deck. I hopped out of the driver's side and sat in the shotgun seat for Beth to take the wheel when she returned.

I called Sherri to tell her where we were and to coordinate the plans to make the run to La Verkin to pick her up. She wisely said "that is a stupid idea" and that she would come to Vegas on the St. George shuttle that night instead and we could just pick her up. Fine with me. By that time, I think we were all pretty tired of sitting in anything regardless of how well appointed it might have been. Butt sore travel is ZERO fun. I would have driven there, but I was thankful to have the option. Love ya, Sher! Thanks for saving our butts! Literally.


We got to the hotel. It was the lovely Las Vegas Vacation Club Hilton and we got checked in, keyed and rode the elevator up to the suite of rooms where we dumped off our gear and waited for Sherri to arrive on the Shuttle at McCarren airport sometime around 10:30 p.m.

Beth and I rode to McCarren to pick her up when the designated time arrived. Because parking at the airport is at a premium price and circling the drain made more sense and was cheaper, I hopped out and waited on the curb by the American Airlines drop off area for the shuttle to appear while Beth circled around until it was time to load up.

Soon, the shuttle pulled up to the curb and the familiar smiling face was present. I think I hugged the stuffings out of Sherri. She didn't seem to mind to much. SOOOO happy to see her again!

When the hugging was over and we were stowing luggage in the SUV, Sherri asked me if I ever wore shoes.

I must have looked at her with a blank expression on my face until she pointed down. To be fair, I was indeed barefooted and frankly didn't really see the need to wear any shoes since we weren't going inside and  the only shoes with me were my "short term tennis shoes" and they were killing my feet after the unexpected changes in our travel plans. All of my other shoes were floating in limbo somewhere between Salt Lake City and Las Vegas. So barefooted sounded pretty dang good to this Alabama gal.

We laughed at my shoeless status and got inside with Beth in the GMC so we could ride back to the Hilton. It was a chit chat fest on the short ride to the hotel. I really wish Sherri and I lived closer, but our lives have different paths and we just have to get together when we can. I reckon that is what makes these little adventures better is because we might run the risk of taking everything for granted otherwise. And I'd hate to do that. Thank the good Lord for email and telephone service!! It makes up for the miles in a lot of ways.


Ugh! So tired! More fun later... gotta decompress... vacations are not for the faint of heart! Why is it that we go away to rest from our lives, but come home needing a vacation from the vacation? Again, for the love of all that is holy, please do not answer that!

Okay, it's now officially "later". The separately traveling luggage STILL HAS NOT ARRIVED. Are you kidding me??? REALLY??? Beth has checked with the airlines and the front desk a gazillion times with everyone assuring her that the luggage is "on the way". "On the way" is apparently airport-ese euphemism standing for "we don't know where in the hell we left your luggage".

We could have driven to and from Salt Lake City and picked it up by now. But noooooooo! Instead, we wait. And wait. And wait... Allegedly, the luggage is now here in Las Vegas... somewhere... circling the drain... circling, circling, circling.

♪♫ Oh, where oh where has the luggage gone? Oh where oh where can it be? ♪♫

I think the tune our miscreant missing bag is singing is more like Elvis' ♪♫ Viva! Las Vegas! ♪♫

While I do have a couple changes of undies in my carry on, my other shoes and my boots and my temple clothes and toiletries are in the luggage ... and they are not alone. They are being kept company by Kari's make up bag, blowdryer, assorted sundries, and all of Beth's textbooks (which she needs to study for FINALS this week!!), shoes, clothing and other items... like the toothpaste she put in my other pair of tennis shoes. I asked Beth if that travel arrangement might affect the flavor of the toothpaste since my shoes are not exactly minty fresh.

She laughed, then called me a dillweed, and told me the tube was closed up. Probably for the best. I don't think I'd like minty fresh tennis shoes. It would just be too odd even for me. And I am absolutely certain that Beth would not enjoy brushing her teeth with Shelley's foot-flavored toothpaste.

Since Kari's makeup bag is also AWOL, we have a  tragedy beyond compare and I'm sure that it is extremely distressing for her since she actually uses her makeup every day. I wear it on Sunday or to appease circumstance or special occasion, but not usually any other day. I'm usually good to go with some sunscreen and some Secret on the armpits to ward of the stench of daily life.

Being merciful to her suffering, we got her some deodorant when we went to Albertson's. A small concession but a useful one since that is truly the one indispensable item when living in the desert climate of Las Vegas. B.O. plenty isn't acceptable here anymore than it is back home in good ol' Alabama.

Did I mention that going to Albertson's in and of itself was an adventure. I'm sure they didn't intend it to be, but it was. They hide their shopping buggies. Really. I swear.

I looked everywhere: inside, around the registers and in their vestibule --- but no carts. I had to ask where they were and the lady looked at me like I had three heads. Maybe I do... I'm just not sure.

The delightfully mean checker informed my three-headed self in a nasty nasally tone that "the shopping carts were outside" and vaguely pointed to an area beyond the automatic doors and onward toward the outside of the building. Upon examination, the store actually had this hidden walled off area where they stuffed the buggies between shoppers. You wouldn't have known they were there unless you shopped there all the time. And frankly, my Alabama accent is a COMPLETE giveaway that "I ain't from around here".

Finally, buggy in hand, I went to find Beth and the rest of the grocery items we'd need to survive Vegas. We also wanted to do some touring in and around the Vegas strip so we were hurrying.

Did I mention it is STILL Thursday?

Or is it Friday now? I've completely lost track...Dementia has most certainly set in by now. It has to be Friday. I'm sure of it now... Friday....However, because of Satan Airlines and the AWOL luggage that had other plans, I am a bit more than disconcerted. Friday. Yep. Friday.


It appears that the temple will have to be pushed back for Saturday morning --- if we get to attend at all. Despite having recommends for the temple, they simply do not allow people in gym shorts inside. It just isn't done. One does not approach the house of the Lord looking like a bum. (NOTE: I found out the temple wasn't even OPEN until Saturday because it had been closed for cleaning so we wouldn't have been able to attend earlier than Saturday even if we'd had our temple clothes with us! The Lord moves in mysterious ways indeed!)

So our plans change once again. Instead of crying in our root beer over what has been altered, we'll use our time wisely and tour Las Vegas by day and for some, Las Vegas by night -- pending arrival of the luggage. That means we can tour first and hope for the recovered baggage to arrive later in the day. The intent was to have attended the temple this lovely and brilliant Friday morning but that won't happen with the luggage still on its own little adventure. It still hadn't arrived by midday despite the airline people screaming about having put it on the 6 a.m. flight. I don't know what flight they think they sent it on, but it didn't get on the 6 a.m. flight to HERE.

Beth patiently calls the airline's representatives again who now tell her there IS NO BAG. NO BAG??? Are you kidding me?? How can there be NO BAG? Did they EAT IT???

According to their impeccable and oh-so-perfect records, now the bag doesn't exist. At all. Anywhere. Grr!! How is that even possible? Was the bag monogrammed with "Houdini" emblazoned on the side? Did it magic itself elsewhere?

Before we ripped heads off of innocent and not so innocent people, the vote was to get the heck out of Dodge and tour Sin City. We started at Caesar's Palace. It just sounded right. No empire was more noted for decadence other  than Caligula's and there isn't a palace in Vegas dedicated to him... at least not yet. Just give them time.

Some hapless tourist and his EXTREMELY patient wife took the "evidentiary support" pictures for us.

I have to say that Caesar's really is amazing! So many shops and things to see and do that it is hard to believe it is all under one roof! Floors and floors of fun without any gambling unless you deliberately choose to do so.

I don't choose to lose money. That is just not in my nature to get nothing for something. Sure, I've given the ol' one armed bandit a try, but don't see the necessity of repeating that lesson. Stupidity isn't a big draw for me.

Inside the complex, you could literally walk for miles inside and never realize you are doing it with all the shops, stores and attractions all crammed under one roof. It was a collection of some pretty amazing stores and venues.

We had a great time checking out the palace. We also watched a kitschy little show about the sinking of Atlantis with animatronic figures "talking" to us and waving around fire and water like it was a toy.

Zeus commanding the magic of his power as the show begins.

At one point, we rounded a corner and came upon a place entitled "Cleopatra's Barge". The decor was fittingly appropriate to the name. Of course, stupid me couldn't help but think the barge needed a brassiere. When you have boobs that big, it really does demand both support and coverage. Yeah, I know, I'm an idiot. But you should have known that already if you have read anything I've written previously.

Cleopatra's Barge inside Caesar's Palace.

While I am fascinated by the lure and lore of things Egyptian, I have the distinct feeling that nothing is what it seems in this venue. It's all about booze and scantily clad waitresses inside this bar. Oh well. I'll save myself the trouble and hope to visit Egypt for real before it is destroyed through a mindless campaign of assimilation and revisionist history. Moving right along...

We looked and shopped and had a ball walking all over the place. Dick Butkus was at a sports store signing autographs for $15 on merchandise bought in the store. Cool. But I wasn't going to pay to see him. I could watch him for free through the plate glass window. It wasn't any less cool to not spend the money.

Xan and Kari and Beth went to play slots so Xan could have her "Vegas Experience". Sherri and I were commanded to meet them outside. Since I'm not too proud to ask directions and since I am a blonde, we went toward the exit confident we could find our way out. We did, with a couple of well placed and not so well placed hints from the folks at the various restaurant counters. Everyone seemed astounded. Probably because I have no sense of direction. But I have always relied on the kindness of strangers... just call me Blanche.

By the way, when it came to the gambling, I have to tell you upfront that Xan won $1.75 for the $3.00 spent on slots. So much for the "Vegas Experience". HA  HA Don't spend it all in one place!


When we all got back to the hotel, Beth called down to the concierge desk to find out where in the Sam Hill the luggage was. Mercifully, the luggage FINALLY arrived! IT ARRIVED!!! YEAH!! Yeah, it is late, late, late in the day and we were glad to see it. Some of us more than others... like those nameless pitiful people I could mention - but whom I won't because I have manners - who only had one pair of undies besides exercise skivvies. Not cool. Not cool at all.

There was much rejoicing to receive the errant bag back into the fold. Plus, Beth was able to have her school books to prepare for her tests. That is a HUGE blessing because you just can't study for finals without the dang books! It kinda cramps your brain...

Later on, Xan, Kari and Beth decided to go out and tour (they took a gondola ride at Venice!), Sherri and I took advantage of the time to rest my feet and talk catching up on our lives, our family and our day to day. It was a great opportunity to just enjoy face to face time that is so rare for us. It is always interesting to me how our individual lives have such challenges but sharing them together and just being able to spend the time as friends makes things easier to handle. At least that's the way I feel... I hope anything I do for Sherri helps in some measure. She truly means the world to me.

After everyone got back to the room from their touring, talking and enjoying each others company all day, it was time to catch enough sleep to be prepared for Saturday and the activities therein. The Las Vegas temple awaited us! It is SOOOO pretty and so very lovely!

SATURDAY, JULY 21st:

Picture of the Las Vegas temple gate and sign taken from inside the SUV.

The Las Vegas temple was lovely and a nice break from the world. Sometimes I need to just get away to somewhere that is quiet. Despite being near such a 24-hour location, the temple is actually in a secluded neighborhood that is truly quiet from the noise of what most people think of when you say "Vegas". It is an oasis of calm in a desert of sin and iniquity. Truly an apt metaphor for the challenges of mortal life.

The temple session was a great blessing of peace for me. It always helps me to be more focused on the people that matter the most to me in my life. Plus, the peace from the world outside is such a relief and a release.

After changing from our Sunday clothes and eating a bite or two of lunch at the Five Star, we got back into the car for some more drive time. We headed north up I-15 toward Salt Lake City, and we passed the time singing, talking and laughing along. The main pit stop was in Beaver, Utah for a potty break and to get some snacks as well as stretching our legs. Xan decided she really liked the tile work in the bathroom and wanted a picture of it. I'm not shy. I've done bathroom pictures a lot since Rick used to be in the tile business and it's no big deal to me so long as people aren't in them doing disgusting things. I draw the line on that stuff. I do have my standards!

Bathroom tile in Beaver, Utah (yeah... takin' pictures in the John!)

They actually did a good job with a cool pattern.

It was pretty nice tile work. I hope if the Kucejko's do decide to create something like this at their house whenever they get to move back into it that they are able to get some pretty stone or tile to truly make it worth the effort. If you are ever in Beaver, Utah, be sure and stop at the service station and check out their lovely bathroom. You won't be disappointed! HA!

Continuing our migration north, we are watching the clock and hoping to get into midtown SLC in decent time enough to keep from being left out in the dark. The Kimball does NOT have 24-hour desk help. They close up the front desk around 8 p.m. or so. Timing is crucial and our drive time plus pit stops as needed eats up a great deal of our Saturday. Beth called to see what the procedure was for after hours check in. They have a nice lock box and combination for people who are running behind the clock. That was a comfort! We made the most of the travel time with singing, talking, laughing at some stupid jokes and funny conversation. So it was definitely NOT a wasted road trip!

Thankfully, we managed to get in SLC prior to being locked out of the Kimball for the night and also to get the info about attending Sunday morning's "Music and the Spoken Word" for the taped broadcast. It's live, but it is also taped for those stations who care to show it later on and for internet streaming.

SUNDAY, JULY 22nd:
Although I lived in Salt Lake City for a while, I never availed myself of the opportunity to attend this wonderful broadcast. Now I feel pretty stupid for missing the blessing of hearing it live and feeling the Spirit weaving in and through the music and message of this amazing production!

Music and the Spoken Word

Because it was a LIVE performance that was to be taped for broadcasts later as well, they gave us strict information about how to behave regarding applause (none, please!), extraneous noises (like coughing, sneezing, etc.) and other mannerisms so that we wouldn't mess up the broadcast or the taping. It was kinda neat to know that for that moment in time we were part of history. The broadcast of Music and the Spoken Word is the longest continuously running radio broadcast in network history! People who aren't LDS tune in as well for the spiritual uplift of the magnificent Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Say what you will, but the comfort of good music and hymns is a blessing to the heart.

We were all variously moved by the spirit of the program. I found myself crying thinking of everyone who came before me who paved a trail through the unplowed ground of the gospel restored. Each one who clung fast to the truth helped make it possible for me to receive the opportunity to hear and accept the gospel and to grow my own testimony of faith in Jesus Christ. That is a marvelous pioneer heritage indeed!

In keeping with that heritage, after our church experiences, Sherri showed us the absolutely wonderful DVD "17 Miracles". It is about the story of pioneer Levi Savage and the things he personally endured in his life and mission, including a very painful personal and public chastisement for a prophetic warning he offered to the pioneer company which he was tasked to help guide west. As it turned out, not only was he RIGHT about what he told them all, he meekly accepted the buffetings of the camp leadership and humbly went along with their plans to press forward to the west even though it was too late in the season to set off from their stopover. The pioneers in that Willie-Martin handcart company suffered things that no one could possibly imagine and the gruesome truth of the suffering was a painful reminder that personal desires need to be tempered with the Lord's desires for us. That they pressed on may well have been the lesson from the Lord they needed to learn to truly hear their leaders even when the message isn't what you want to hear at all. Who can truly say? But members of that company who survived said it was through their afflictions that they came to know God and Christ.

Jerry and Jean Merrill invited us to dinner at their place in the Valley. It was a generous and kind invitation as they were truly welcoming over "the Wild Bunch" to their home. Hawaiian Hay Stacks were on the menu and I haven't had that since the family reunion we attended while Thomas was in Germany. We had a lovely time and enjoyed their gracious hospitality and a lovely dinner as well. Casandra also came over to visit with us and we laughed, we talked, we got emotional during our discussion of the tornadoes that had ravaged our area over the past couple of years. Since Xan's family was truly displaced by the damage, she was able to give firsthand testimony that was painful and poignant.

We also took a couple of pictures of the event. Can't let this kind of thing happen without blackmail photos!

L to R: Me, Casandra, Jerry and Jean in their living room.

Some of The Merrill girls together again!

The Motley Crew of visitors at Jerry and Jean's place.

Later on when we returned to the Kimball, it was time to do school work for Beth and Sherri. I acted as secretary and proofreader while Xan and Kari watched TV in their room. I mostly waited till called on to do anything resembling useful. There was a wicked storm with some pretty cool lightening tonight as we were leaving. Reminded me of the ones back home. Seriously good lightening frying up the atmosphere! Wish I'd taken some pictures of it.

MONDAY, JULY 23rd
After a reasonable night's rest, we got up and started our Monday. We drove up to see Lanette. She was at the Miner's home here in SLC enjoying some family time and a break from her treatments. It was so good to see her and as a bonus, to meet and get to know Eva, my little cousin. She is SOOO cute! A little moppet with curly brown hair and as cute as a button. For whatever reason, Eva warmed up to me (odd for a girl baby!) and held her little arms out to me to pick her up. YEAH!! That was AWESOME! Most little girl babies don't want anything to do with me ... boy babies, yes, girl babies... not so much. But Eva is something special, that's for sure!

We decided to head to the Natural History Museum next. Lanette said her family was all there, but we never saw them. To be fair, you could be there all day and never run into anyone unless you met up before you went indoors. It is A HUGE MUSEUM!!

Xan making new friends at the Rio Tinto Natural History Museum of Utah! Kissy Kissy!

A lovely Geode!

The museum is truly a "must see" for any trip to Utah. The exhibits are spectacular and include Utah's natural and anthropological history. I was amazed at the Native American exhibit though frustrated that the museum chose to cast the Church's interaction with the Native Americans as a bad thing. Without the Church and the blessings they brought to the area, many of the tribes would have simply warred themselves into extinction. Yet the museum chose to deliberately slant the story to make it appear that once again, the white settlers were the hostiles who stole away the history and culture of the Native Americans. *SIGH*

I was particularly impressed by their exhibit on DNA. It had a tracking map, as it were, about the sequencing that showed the matching steps of our genetic makeup from various animals and human beings. Every once in a while the letters all matched up. To me, it was like looking at the fingerprint of our Creator. It was like seeing His Divine mark on all that He touched in making this entire world. Each era of time, however He determined it, was a segment that the Almighty made that has left a record of all that He wanted us to have and know.

After all of our day's adventures, we went back to the apartment to watch Kate and Leopold. It was really good. We had to watch it on the laptop, but it was an awesome movie! Hugh Jackman was hilarious! I'd never seen it before, so it was a great opportunity to enjoy the movie.

Beth got one of her finals done today and I'm sure that is a huge relief to her. I know I always liked to have a break from the coursework when I knew a final was over.

TUESDAY, JULY 24th:
Tuesday was a kind of departure for us all. None of us were participating in the races... just not a race year. Too much pain medicine floating around the room for anyone to be thinking about it this time. There is always next year.

There was another reason it was good that no races happened for me. For whatever reason, I have panic attacks from time to time and last night was one heck of a "you're gonna die" panic attack. Just a world class freak out that leaves me anxious, terrified, confused and uncertain what to do. I hate them. So I was happy to have a couple of extra hours to try and catch up on the lost night's sleep.

We enjoyed some looking around and going to "The King's English Bookstore".  Awesome place! Would love to go there again as it was just a wonderful little specialty shop.

The main feature for the day was the Salt Lake Bees game!! I LOVE BASEBALL!!

The whole idea of going to the ballpark, sitting in the stands, rooting for the Bees and just enjoying the atmosphere of the game is absolutely wonderful! If I was rich, I'd own a minor league team just for the heck of it. The Bees were hosting the Sacramento River Cats.

The final of the game was Bees 17 - Cats 7.  

GO BEES!


♪♫ Take me out to the ball game! Take me out with the crowds!♪♫

Aaaaah, baseball! The enduring love of the game makes summer such a wonderful time of the year! The fireworks show afterwards was also great. I am a big fan of fireworks and feel that when possible, they should be part of every summertime.

Skyrockets in flight! 

WEDNESDAY, JULY 25th:
We attended the West Jordan temple today. And Sherri left us to go care for her mother's needs. Understandable, but still sad.

Just trying to decide if falling into the fountain "accidentally" on such a hot day is a good idea or not...

Jordan River temple -- isn't it beautiful?

Afterwards, we toured the Church History museum. That place is a three day wonder and I still don't think you can see it all.

We also toured the Lion House, an item that's been on the "Utah Bucket List" for quite some time. The Beehive house was cool. They had a lot of carving inside that was just amazing. The pioneers may have been from another time, but their skills in woodworking were out of this world!

 

I appreciate craftsmanship. And beautifying ones own home is never amiss. The pioneers understood that in the stark land which they had chosen to build God's own people into Saints that beauty was where you created it and in the appreciation of God's wonders all around them in the templed hills ringing the valley.

A trio of lovely ladies enjoying the sights!

Following our day of fun activity, we returned to the Kimball to eat and rest.

THURSDAY, JULY 26th:
We had originally planned to go to the Logan temple. However, due to the luggage fiasco taking a bite out of our plans and in particular Beth's plans to study, plus the drive time plus the session time added up, we elected to attend the Mt. Timpanogos temple instead. It was closer and would be less of a bite in the hours of the day, especially so since Beth had a final to take before midnight. Yikes!

Oh, a special note to all concerned: You cain't get to the temple from here. Holy Moses and all the Twelve Apostles! They tucked it back into the neighborhoods in the foothills so tightly that you needed a sherpa to find the way. Plus, the Utah DOT was deconstructing roads right and left effectively cutting off all sorts of access points. Helpful. NOT!

With the aid of modern technology and a couple of false starts, we finally arrived at the Lord's house in the hills. Nothing like taking the kindred dead on tour. I've never felt more like a groupie than I do at this moment.

Mt. Timpanogos temple in an undisclosed secret location

Upon finishing our session, we went to Del Taco. Yep. A fine dining establishment that cannot be missed, especially when you have coupons to help pay the bill. We also changed clothes there for our much anticipated visit to Thanksgiving Point. No actual Pilgrims were involved and there was no Mayflower berthed anywhere in the area. I looked.

I also didn't see any turkeys, but I did see some cows. Sadly, we were late for the milking exhibition. We enjoyed the Dinosaur museum and the shops there at the facility and we also enjoyed the gardens. They were truly lovely.

All we need is a team and we're ready to go!

The Ag Building... sadly there was not a display while we were there.

Nice... wonder if the little dino skeletons are afraid of the big dino?

Ictheosaurus... or some such rot. Either way, that would scare the crap out of me if it was on my fishing line!

See the picture? Look closer... closer... dang it!! The little screen turned off!!

Gee, that's amazing. Now what the heck is it?

So very beautiful! And the scent of all of the various flowers was heavenly!

We haz found a bench!

I'd totally LOVE to do something like this in my own yard.

And I'd like to have an arched gate in my stone wall as well.

What a lovely glass art piece! The glass factory there at Thanksgiving point is absolutely phenomenal!

LOVE this gazebo!

And I love the water feature.

Kinda blurry but the flowers were just lovely!

Conscious as we were to make sure Beth was able to do what she had to do for her grades, we watched the clock surreptitiously. Okay, I watched the clock. As it was, even with our time wise detour and temple choice of Mt. Timpanogos plus our stop at Thanksgiving point (which was TOTALLY worth the stop!), Beth still finished her final exam after 10 p.m.

Did I mention we were working on the "Utah Bucket List"?

Well, one of those stops for me was the IKEA store!! WOO HOO!!! I have wanted to go there for a while.

The Holy Grail of Home Furnishings!!

I could have cheerfully wandered around in there forever looking at space saving and labor saving ideas for the home. If I ever have the money together, I'm going to start buying the pieces on my little list. Yep. That was an inspirational tour if there ever was one!

I really loved the TV and storage ensemble they had on display as well as the bedroom ensemble that included plenty of underbed storage. They also had a very nice glass and wood curio cabinet that would be absolutely perfect for our doll display!

*SIGH* Time and patience! Time and patience!

Sherri called while we were there to ask some questions about her mother. I told her my best guess, which isn't as helpful as you might think, and counseled her to call the pharmacist for some real help to the problem. I talked to her later and everything was much better. That's good to know. And I'm thankful that there are trained people who can help when someone for whom we have care is in need. It makes a difference.

FRIDAY, JULY 27th:
One last day in Oz before we return from the emerald city and back to the black and white of our daily lives. Xan and I walked over to the Church History Library. A vast repository of church documentation and histories as well as various artifacts and photographs from the church's worldwide reach, the building is an amazing place to spend time.

While there, I checked to see if there was a copy of the church history that had been written from OUR area of the Lord's vineyard and there was not. So I'm working on it after we get back home so that the things of a sacred nature to our stewardship can be preserved, too. Someone someday may have a need to know and I want to be represented.

City Creek Center in Salt Lake City

After visiting there, we all decided to take in City Creek. It was under construction the last time I was in SLC and as a result, the new facility demanded a visit. WOW! The job they did to bring nature into the inside spaces of a public mall while maintaining a dignity about it was nothing short of amazing. The inside and the outside merge together and then divide again seamlessly. The architects did a FABULOUS job! I can only imagine what it looks like in the winter!

We had intended to attend a bagpipe concert tonight, but after all of our wandering around and after our sumptuous meal at Cafe Rio (Holy Moses! If you get to go out there, EAT AT CAFE RIO!) there wasn't much left to go on. Plus everyone needed to pack up and do whatever last minute doings were needed to prepare for tomorrow's flight out.

SATURDAY, JULY 28th:
Got up, breakfasted and showered to be ready when we needed to depart for the airport.


The idea was to have the time to do everything without having to rush. We had to be there early enough to return the rental vehicle, get our bags sorted and, in some cases, checked in, then check ourselves in and await our flight. I have had a good time and in some ways, I hate to see it come to an end. Having this opportunity and blessing of a break has been just wonderful!

Alas, everything was just too fast!

I should have anticipated some kind of difficulty when we checked into the Salt Lake airport for our flight. My little internal "trouble light" was on, but I ignored it --- you know, the way you do when your hubris level has overcome the common sense valve.

When we started our little adventure at home and went through the check-in at Huntsville to begin our trip, the security check was of minor consideration. It was just a seconds long process. Literally. That's where the over-confidence started building.

However, upon our leaving Salt Lake, ah well, let's just say I have a couple of NEW, CLOSE friends from the TSA.

My computer bag had to be emptied completely out. As a possible threat. Their scanning machine said so. Strange, but I remember packing that bag. There was nothing "extra" or dangerous in it. The computer, a granola bar and a long sleeve shirt. That's it. No C-4, no blasting caps, no gel fuel. Just the computer, a granola bar and a long sleeve shirt.

Yet it was deemed to be "suspicious" and required dumping out. Completely. Every single pocket emptied out to determine if I was bringing aboard a computer case filled with Armageddon.

Nice.

Nothing like having all your goodies on display in the airport for some skeevy person to decide what they'd like to take from you. I must have a suspicious face... either that or I look like a clueless mule to do the bidding of some nefarious entity.

My carry-on luggage itself was passed through the scanner a couple of real SLOW times. Really? Apparently, my underwear has suddenly become a suspicious item. Either that or they thought they saw something exciting when my curling iron rolled through the viewfinder. Again, nothing to see here. I'm a wife and mother from ALA-FREAKIN'-BAMA!!! The most exotic thing I own is a hat made in Taiwan!

Maybe they just saw my BEES beer cup on the scanner and were jealous of my freebie (I picked it up AFTER the game and washed it to death in soapy water). Who knows?

Then, when I was finally instructed to "come forward and stand in the little booth on the two yellow foot prints" and told to assume the "New York position" so I could have my full body scan preserved for some pervert's collection, I set off their warning lights.

YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!!

WHY?? I have NOTHING in my pockets, my socks or... oh. Wait. Softly now, and a luft pause, but I forgot...

The stupid screws holding my ankle together!!

Yet the scan showed the "alarm" on my thigh. Migratory screws??? I don't think so!!

Thanks to that, I received my very own personalized nice pat down and "wanding" from the TSA chick who didn't even offer to buy me drinks, dinner or a snack.You'd think that if they are going to be that up close and personal that they'd at least ask what your name is and where you're from... it was uncomfortable to say the least.

During the special attention I received, an entire brigade of terrorists could have calmly boarded the plane as the TSA all riveted their attention onto me for that few minutes. A dumpy, bottle blonde housewife with a penchant for granola and a few giblets of metal holding me together is imminently more scary than anyone else they have seen this morning. I'm reasonably sure that I couldn't outrun them. And I'm also reasonably sure that even if I could somehow dig in to access the screws in my leg, they would be so tiny as to be completely and utterly useless were I to have contemplated any kind of cloak and dagger with them. Plus, I'd would then be BLEEDING and that would make me queasy as I can't stand the sight of my own blood and  thus rendering any hostile plans a moot point.

Glad we got to the airport early. I would have hated to miss the flight because of my reckless status. SHEESH!

After the joy and wonder that was the TSA, we hiked to our terminal to wait. And wait. And wait.
We sat and waited. We walked and waited. And we ate dinner at Chili's and waited for our flight to be called. This reminds me of a Primary song about the pioneer children except they walked and walked and walked... we did some of that too, just to burn up the time.

Departure time mercifully arrived at last and we boarded the gleaming bird that would return us to civilization in Sweet Home Alabama. Lest you think we are done with our revels, oh no, happy campers. As a final parting shot and a testament as to why I am thankful that smoking isn't allowed on planes, I submit this little story of agony in the air. Every single word of this is true and I have 4 reliable witnesses (myself and the other 3 musketeers) as to this bit of Shakespearean tragedy at 31,000 feet.

The ride out to Dallas was bumpy in places. Dramamine kept me comfortable and drooling. I did read a little bit and finished up the book Beth had loaned me by the time we touched down in Dallas. I bawled at the ending, but since SHE hasn't read it yet, I'll hold off on the ending so as not to spoil the book for her. She asked if it was good and through my sniffling and tear filled eyes, I said "YES!".

I enjoyed it very much!

Departing Dallas for our trip to Huntsville and Sweet Home Alabama that lay before us, we figured we were home free. It seemed so close that we could touch it and taste it! HOME! Sweet, sweet home! But alas, the Devil of the skies had other plans. Evil, malicious and malodorous plans! 

Dang that Devil and his army of stinkin' minions!

We were sitting behind two people who apparently habitually dined on nothing but a steady diet of cabbage and beans for all meals, all snacks and late night nibbling. 

It was a constant struggle to get anything resembling a clean breath of air, even with both overhead vents open ALL THE WAY blowing air on us, it couldn't keep up with the output of the two gas bags in the seats in front of us. I don't believe ANYONE could possibly manage to be that gassy, but fate managed to prove otherwise in a protracted and oxygen free way. I never realized that I could breathe pure methane. Apparently you can...

The aroma was pure-D disgusting and so nasty that the stench of vomit would have been preferable. At one point, I pulled my t-shirt up over my face just to filter the air in any measure. I looked to my right and Beth had done the same thing. It was funny, but not so funny because we were the ones enduring the horror show of olfactory assault and the toxic and deadly biological assault was not stopping any time soon. It was so horrible that my eyes actually were watering. 

Either they were completely oblivious to the noxious stench they were perfuming the cabin's air with or they figured no one knew it was them. HOLY COW!!! There was NO way it was not them!! AUGH!!! What a stench! I've smelled barnyards that were cleaner! Why isn't there some kind of protection dropping from the ceiling to save us from this assault???

When it first started up, I was sort of like 'well, forgive and forget' because accidental gas eruption can and does happen to the best of us under the most embarrassing of circumstances. But then... the onslaught began in earnest and the amount of methane floating through the cabin would have blown up the plane had smoking still been legal aboard. The Arial commanders of the Blitzkrieg could have learned from them! They were creating casualties left and right and to the rear! There was NOTHING accidental about this deadly cargo! 

Why didn't the TSA employees and their oh so special scanners show this onboard danger?? Surely there is some kind of sensor that would compel these offenders to be taken to a special chamber where their gas can be safely (and possibly forcibly) removed before takeoff? the US Government could have saved this incredibly dense pocket of gas for the war effort.

Does ANYONE have an air filter mask? Oxygen? 

Help? 

Charcoal activated filtered underwear?

Somebody? 

ANYBODY?

It was a caution to us all. I'm sure their combined contribution to the hole in the ozone layer will be duly noted in the annals of scientific discovery listed under our flight number. If not, it should be. And it should also be noted that the lavatory aboard the airship SMELLED BETTER than the cabin air. I wish I were kidding. Sadly, I am not. HOLY MOSES!!! Why are their no oxygen tank vending machines on board a plane?

When the plan landed, I'm reasonably sure that I set a land speed record getting out of that cabin in search of a breath of clean air.

Such is life. We must take the good with the bad.

Next time, I will be prepared with a quick trip to the Army-Navy store where I will have purchased a gas mask suitable for all biological attacks. Wonder if the TSA would let that baby through airport security?

Looking forward to the next chick trip...

Tomato picking with the Tide

I'm no stranger to odd dreams.

I have them so frequently that they seem normal to me.

But the one I had recently sort of went over the top.

I was with my family in a large field. It stretched on for miles, it seemed. The field was filled with tomato plants of every conceivable variety and hue. And I was there to pick them.

I was not alone, though. My family was there with our little red Radio Flyer wagons - mine had a little Conestoga top - and we had on work gloves and were carrying baskets.

In the midst of the tomato harvesting, the Alabama Crimson Tide players were all there decked out in game day brilliance picking tomatoes right along side us. The deal was that we all picked from the crimson fields and then would go watch the Tide play.

Unsure even now of the significance of picking tomatoes in full gear, the Tide was nevertheless filling their little wagons with juicy tomatoes and carrying them to the waiting trucks at the end of each row.

They never even got their white game pants dirty. Not even a smudge.

They were so white that the sun's light reflecting from them hurt your eyes. The sky was so blue and the splendor of the verdant green field speckled with the red and crimson tomatoes peeping from between the leaves of the plant created a masterful palette of color.

And still we picked.

Nick Saban showed up.

He had on his Panama straw hat. He was wearing khaki shorts and a Tide polo. Nick did not pick. He was there going up and down the rows telling the players and other pickers to "give it everything you've got".

It was sort of inspiring.

At that point, my dream became a jumbled mess and I know I was talking in my sleep because I woke myself up with some nonsense about quilted tomatoes. Any idiot knows that won't work. Once you poke a sewing needle through the delicate skin, you risk rot or juice flow. You can't quilt a tomato. They are, however, really good in gravy to be poured over rice.

When I woke up, I wanted a tomato sandwich.

Alas, that was not to be as my few remaining tomato slices had turned on me... and not in a good way. When a tomato slice has a little gray beard, it's time to cue "Taps" and let it go.

Hmm. Was that some sort of subliminal message that I'd have to get more tomatoes?  Stranger things have happened.

At any rate, know that in my dream, the Crimson Tide picked every last tomato in that field in record time. There was no fuss, no muss and no bruised fruit. Just beautiful tomatoes that shone crimson in the summer sun.

It's All Good

Test results came back just fine.

I get a reprieve from dancing with the grim reaper for the time being.

While it is true that we all have a time appointed to be born and a time appointed in which we will die, I wasn't quite ready for the long dirt nap.

Others might have been, but in the interest of self preservation, I did not conduct a comprehensive poll for relevant data. I would fear they would expect some sort of personal sacrifice should I discover that I had been voted most likely to fill a slot at Valhalla Memory Gardens.

Due to the fact that I now feel like I'm not sitting on a coal of fire fidgeting out the results anymore, it's almost like I can fly. ♪♫ I believe I can fly! ♫♪ While I promise not to make the attempt from the roof of the nearest barn with a London Fog umbrella, I will hang on to the feeling that a new day of promise means another chance to get things right.

While discussing the personal peccadillos (or little sins) of myself and others, I found myself grateful for a bit more time to sort out the fact that one day an accounting must be made of how I have spent my mortal sojourn on this third rock from the sun. Struggling as I do with being all to mortal and overly flawed, there are days in which I wonder if my peccadillos are not so little and they are overwhelming me.

Everyone struggles. There are no free passes. I get that because I am well-read. However, some people possess a quiet grace and dignity in the face of soul crushing turmoil which I am quite certain I would be unable to bear, even for a few moments. I can't say I admire them, because that seems such a petty word when you are speaking of someone who has developed a sense of the Divine in their daily walk.

Instead, I think that I am humbled by the stalwart example I see in those who appear to have their world crumbling around them, yet have an oasis of peace through Jesus Christ granted to them. It isn't without a price. Seeing the burdens they carry day to day makes me thankful for the blessing of another day to learn how to become more like them and through that becoming to be more like my Savior.

Political stuff has been irking me lately. I think the reason is because we mere mortals are so far from the Savior when it comes to the mudslinging fray of politics that I'm sure the heavens weep over our hubris, arrogance, pride and self-serving nature. He never descended to this kind of behavior. Instead, Jesus quietly did what the law commanded so long as it was not in conflict with those commandments of God that supersede all else.

Today's politicians and the party faithful seem to forget that at the heart of all that we do, above all else, we are supposed to be a family. An American family that loves their nation, their people and their honor above themselves. Lately, the milk of human kindness is not only absent from the evidence in public discourse, we appear to have slaughtered the cow from whence it sprang.

I want to get back to the days where people genuinely cared about their neighbor in tangible ways. Where being part of the great American experiment was the grandest opportunity on the face of the whole world. A time where it was all good because we worked to make it so through the tough times. Now, it seems as if people are willing to settle for so much bad news that there is an appetite for the sensational above that of the substantial.

Kinda sad, really. We are taking nothing for something and smiling as if it's all good. But it's not.

Like the cry of "All is well!" that came from the lips of the town criers back in the day, our evening news heralds both good and bad. I wish someone would be bright enough to realize that the more good things you report about the more good things that will occur? Everyone wants to be recognized in life. How wonderful would it be if all of that recognition was for doing GOOD things??

The power of love can make all change possible to him who believes!

Laundry calls me again. I must ponder as I fold. A new day means both the old priorities and whatever new ones come to mind must be examined and sorted. Just like a batch of sox, some will be set aside because there is nothing to go with them. Nothing to make them useful. Nothing to make them work.

Then, other ideas will bloom into fruition in ways that are both unexpected and miraculous.

Another day... another chance.... it's all good.