Uniquely December: Ice Cream Day

If you were reading awhile back, you know that I love Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey and that I also struggle supporting that particular ice cream establishment due to our differing political views.  When I mentioned it just a few months ago I hadn't found the impetus to make a definite turn away from my favorite frozen delicacy.  Today, however, I've taking my stand.

With Ben and Jerry's today throwing their corporate support behind the Occupy Movement, I will no longer support them even to indulge my strongest cravings.  Not because there isn't good to be done buried somewhere deep in the mess that is the Occupy Movement.  And not because I disagree with their long-standing efforts to support employees and consumers over corporate interests.  The reason I can no longer sneak my Chunky Monkey has much more to do with their decision to fuel a completely ineffective and direction-less movement.

Over the past few months I've found myself in several different states and seeing fairly up close the Occupy Movements in several those areas.  I've listened intently to what the Occupiers in my own neck of the woods are saying, and there's not much coherence there.  I know they must believe strongly in what they're fighting for-why else would they have stretched their protests into the bitter cold of winter?  But no one else is believing them because their is no concise point for us to be believing.

Let me share my view of the Occupy movement based on what has happened here in Salt Lake City...

Pioneer Park for years was a haven for homeless people and drug dealers.  It was a BIG problem; a historic and significant area of the city and nobody was able to enjoy it.  Finally the city stepped in to clean up the park and the problem.  Over the past few years they have made tremendous strides in cracking down on crime and finding shelter options for those in need.  Families are coming back to the park.  The farmer's market sets up there once again and a new summer concert series packs a crowd every week.

So what is the logical next step for a park with such a troubled past?  I promise you it's not a group of unorganized squatters pitching tents and piling up trash in the walkways.  It's not a group of people who apparently also have no homes because they never go there and also maybe can't read because they are completely oblivious to the printed park curfew signs.  The city bent over backwards, set aside their own city tenets, to enable a peaceable protest.  The SLC Occupiers recognized that. Then a man in a tent died. The city had to put their foot down. And the occupiers lawyered up to sue on the grounds that the city violated their own laws by letting the protesters stay.

What are the SLC Occupiers fighting for?  I have no idea.  On Black Friday they were calling for a boycott of shopping at Wal-Mart because Wal-Mart undercuts prices and products that are American-made.  Today, they're "riding our bikes very slowly" in front of trucks leaving the Wal-Mart distribution centers to show solidarity for the Wal-Mart workers who "deserve a living wage" and should unionize.  Are you kidding me?  Riding your bikes very slowly in front of a moving 18-wheeler?  Great cause.  Great movement.

If I think about it, I suppose the Occupiers are out there fighting for me.  Right?  Middle-class family struggling to keep health insurance, a bit afraid of the rate at which the price of food is rising, and wondering what comes next.  But you know what?  My husband and I won't be joining you.  No.  We're working.  We're supporting our family.  We're making ends meet the best way we can and looking for opportunities to intelligently make our situation better.  Know what else?  We're bathing!  (Well, okay, except for the no shampoo thing...)

What does all this have to do with ice cream?  Absolutely nothing.  Except that Ben & Jerry's has made it their new mission to stick their noses into the mess.  If, in the long run, their clout and own corporate dollars are successful in finally bringing a point to the Occupy movement, hurray for them.  Let them be a catalyst for something good (it'd definitely be better than touring with a burning effigy of the President).  For now, though, I am one of little faith.  I'll continue to grant them their creative tastiness, but will no longer be indulging...in their ice cream or in their involvement with the Occupy movement.

Uniquely December: International Mountain Day

Out my front door right now I can see the snow-topped mountains of Utah's Wasatch Mountain Range and it has me pondering the journey I've taken to get me here from where I grew up on the grassy Midwest plains.

My first trip to the mountains was on a church youth group retreat before I graduated high school.  We took a 14-hour charter bus ride to Estes Park, Colorado and toured through the Rocky Mountain National Park.  Hanging over the edge as the bus crawled around the curves nearly had me jumping out of my skin.  And to this day I think back to our day of cliff rappelling as my first real-life faith lesson (which I failed miserably, but continue to learn from).  

My next foray into the mountains came in a big way the day I left home in my car driving to Alaska.  No person, driving solo for days in early spring over the ALCAN Highway, can say they've stayed sane.  But Alaska grew on me and living within view of Mt. McKinley off and on for eight years gave me a great appreciation for the wonder and magnificence of the Earth and it's Creator.

Several years ago I got to travel with my family to Switzerland where we spent the day shadowed by the Matterhorn.  It was beautiful and impossible not to marvel at it's grandeur as it slipped in and out of it's cover of clouds.

Now here I am living in Utah.  My husband grew up in the mountains and feels out of place in wide open spaces.  My 4-year-old is learning how to ski and I realize I'm now raising mountain boys.  When I first moved here I thought for sure I'd never take the mountains for granted, but the day did come when I was driving down the freeway and was struck by the thought that I hadn't given the mountains any thought for longer than I could remember.  And then the day came when I'd flown back to visit the land of my childhood, but only felt like I was "home" as I flew back over the Wasatch Range to land in Salt Lake City.  

The mountains have come to mean a great deal to me?  What impact have they had on you?

Reminder: Come Camping With Me!

I have an invitation for you!  I'm going camping and I want you to come along...WAIT...I know you don't live near me, but keep reading...it's going to be exciting!

Camping has always been a fun activity for me, my friends,and my family.  Growing up I was a proud member of Campfire Boys and Girls and have innumerable memories of the camping trips that made it possible for me to participate in (most of the trips involved being soaked in the rain and eating food we thought was disgusting, but they still make me laugh and smile).

In high school my parents rented a group campsite at our local lake and allowed each of my sisters and I to invite friends for a weekend of outdoor adventure.  It was a first camping experience for several of the kids who came along and we felt like the luckiest family on the planet!

And now that I'm grown?  I still love camping!  In my early (and poor) married days my husband and I made it a priority to buy quality camping equipment.  It served us well while we working and playing in Alaska and has lasted long enough to introduce our two little boys to the joys of sleeping outside.  Living in Utah we have the ability to camp in the most amazing places and try to take the opportunity as often as possible.

That brings me to the invitation I teased you with at the beginning...

The National Wildlife Federation, REI, and KOA are hosting the 2011 Great American Backyard Campout on Saturday, June 25th.  The Great American Backyard Campout provides an opportunity to support NWF’s work to return nature to childhood for the health benefits and for the fun of it!  My personal memories of camping, as well as the joy of watching my little boys outside, inspired me to join the fun and I want you to share it with me.

So what do you do?  Join the team at http://online.nwf.org/goto/campwithme.  Then start planning your adventure and share the excitement with your friends and family.  How fun to have a team spanning the entire country!  Participate on the team website or leave a comment here to let me know what you are planning.  

Then, the week following the campout, share your experiences on the Wandering Still Facebook page for a chance to win a gift to inspire you to spend more time this summer in the great outdoors (more information on the giveaway posted on FB June 24th).

I look forward to seeing you out there!

Bring On Spring

 A few weeks ago I broke my resolve to save money by suppressing all travel desires.  With 24-hour's notice and an invitation from family to join them in the Grand Canyon, I hastily packed my bags, loaded bewildered kids in the car, and hit the open road.  It was the perfect way to welcome spring and summer adventure back from hibernation.

Apparently a little too perfect because now my imagination has gotten the best of me.  With extended family trips already scheduled to San Diego in the summer and Iowa in the winter most people's vacation budget would be full.  I guess it's all in your priorities.  My home is humble and my kids wear hand-me-down clothes and that's fine for me.  Its what makes the going possible.

So what else is on the itinerary?  Well....

~An unexpected additional trip to Iowa and Kansas next week.  Fact is, I miss my family.  And my boys miss playing with grandpa's antique toy trucks. So we're going.  Simple as that.

A July wedding in the Washington D.C. LDS temple that I'd love to go to, but probably will be the first item on the chopping block when reality sets in. 

Relaxing weekends at a "secret" beach-side camping spot

~Hiking in the Utah  mountain canyons.

~Lots of sun and fun at our local waterpark

~Parades and city festivals until we can't bear to take one more piece of free candy or cheap advertisement

~Meeting my sister half-way between here and there for a random weekend meet-up (hint, hint, Beth)

The Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta with side trips to

 White Sands National Monument

and the Kasha-Katuwe Tent Rocks National Monument

   And if I'm lucky, an incomprehensible number of things I haven't dreamed up yet!

What have you dared to dream into your summer travel adventures?

It's What Motivates Me

I'm a spur-of-the-moment kind of girl.  Not necessarily the drop everything and go kind of girl that I used to be, but an instant planner.  My husband can mention a random event in passing and 15 minutes later I'm bombarding him with the best dates to do it and how to get there and where we should stay and how much the whole thing is going to cost.  At that moment I am 100% ready to go....15 minutes (or less)...and my husband is left trying to remember if he was the one who'd set the whole trip in motion.

So, what motivates me?  Let me walk you through the three adventures I've wanted to embark on just this week.

To witness, or be a part of, history.
My sister called this week to ask what channel would be broadcasting the launch of space shuttle Discovery.  Three minutes before blast off we found it on CNN and then the NASA channel.  I recorded it and watched later with my family.  Watching instantly took me back to 3rd grade, sitting in my school desk, watching the launch and subsequent explosion of the Challenger.  It moved me.  It was my husband who later reminded me there are only going to be two more shuttle launches in the entirety of history.

Getting from Utah to Florida for a space launch is not an overnight jaunt.  Plane tickets, lodging and rental cars are going to cost a bit of money.  But can you put a price on creating memories?  The last two launches are scheduled for April 19 and June 28 and I want to be there.  When my children are writing school reports about space, I want them to have first-hand stories to tell.  When the world starts to forget this incredible part of United States history, I want to have first-hand knowledge to share and remind them.

Anything Is Worth Free
I have a NASCAR family (at least at the beginning of the season).  My dream would be to buy the RV infield weekend package and surprise my dad with the trip of a lifetime.  However, until I wake up in a bed of money, I'm more than willing to get in on the events more within my budget.  This weekend's Kobalt 400 race in Las Vegas is the closest the NASCAR circuit will come to me this year.

Of course I want to go.  At first it was just a joke with my husband.  It would get us out of a weekend of church stake conference meetings.  Then I discovered there are two days full of free activities well worth seeing.  On Thursday there are autograph sessions with drivers we follow and my dad's favorite racer, Danica Patrick.  Both Thursday and Friday you can watch practice laps and qualifying laps in the stadium for free.  And Thursday night the NASCAR car haulers parade down the Las Vegas strip.  After paying for gas and dirt-cheap Las Vegas lodging, it's an entire weekend of free!

It's There!
Utah is an extremely diverse state and I've explored nearly every inch of it.  I feel sad to talk with people who live here and have never ventured away from their mile of the Wasatch front-especially in Utah County. We're right in the middle!  Nowhere is too far from here.  Moab is the perfect place to get away from the mid-winter blahs!  I've learned that south of I-70 does not automatically guarantee it's always going to be warm enough for camping, but even in March the days are beautiful.  Fresh air and sun on your skin.  Who doesn't want a little bit of that?

Getting YOU Out There
Unfortunately, I'm probably not going on any of these trips soon.  We're working hard to pay off debt and save money for our 2012 multi-month get-away.  And so, if I can't go, I want to find an opportunity that will inspire you.  How great it makes me feel to pass on dates and times for local parades or festivals or share my travel "secrets"  when friends are heading out of town.  I love planning and finding good deals and am more than happy to do the dirty work if it will get someone else out on the road.

These are a few of the things that motivate me.  Traveling is what gets me excited.  Exploring and experiencing make up a huge part of who I am.  And I guarantee that this week I'll have a whole new bundle of ideas about where to go and what to do.  Want to come along with me?

My $100 Dream

I am a thrift store shopper.  And if not a thrift store shopper, then definitely a clearance rack shopper. In Iowa my secondhand store of choice was Goodwill, preferably the Euclid store (or West Des Moines, but it had to be a special treat to make it all the way out there).  In Alaska the goods were at Value Village.  Quality was lacking at Value Village, but when you're thousands of miles from the next thrift store, you take what you can find.  Here in Utah, mecca for used-clothes hounds is Deseret Industries (DI).

Deseret Industries operates along the same lines as Goodwill, I think, offering employment and training services, affordable items for purchase, and a place for the community to donate their time and no-longer-needed belongings.  I support everything DI stands for, but what is the real reason I'm telling you all this?  I have a secret dream...

I want $100 and an entire day alone to DI-hop.  Within 45 minutes driving distance I have access to 10 fabulous stores.  By far my favorites are the Sugarhouse and the American Fork stores.  Sugarhouse always has unique items and American Fork has some tall, presumably wealthy people donating brand new stuff sized perfectly for me.  Whenever this dream shopping spree takes place, I'll start farthest north in downtown Salt Lake City.  That way, if I run out of time or money, I can skip the Provo store and know nothing is there waiting for me.  In the middle of BYU married-housing, that store gets the dregs people have been passing down for generations and should have sent to the trash rather than a merchandising establishment.

Why Deseret Industries you're thinking.  Why not dream and save up for a trip to the mall, or even bigger, to New York City?  Well, first, reality is that holding 100 free dollars in my hand is a pipe dream.  When that great party day arrives, I need to get the most bang for my buck.  I can walk out of the mall with 2-3 things or out of DI with 12-15 things.  Beyond the limitation of money, though, I see cute things peeking out at me every single time I go to DI.  Usually I'm there shopping for my kids or trying to find that hidden gem out in the yard (for my local readers, do you know about the yard?  I was sick to my stomach when I realized I'd been missing out for years and years).  If I do look through the racks for me, a skirt or shirt is guaranteed to fall in love with me, and once in love I have to take it home.  I'll hide it in the laundry basket until it's cleaned and then slip it in my closet pretending it's been there all along.  My husband laughs at me.  He's pretty sure my $3.00 discovery is not going to drain the coffers.

I'm sure a few of you are appalled by now.  It may not seem I have very classy or lofty goals. If that's what you're looking for, hop over to my SIL's blog Timeless.  Emulating and learning from Aubrey Hepburn, her shopping and fashion knowledge is in a world all her own.  As for me, I've got $20 in the bank.  One day that will grow and you'll find me grinning like a kid in a candy store.  You can find me buried in the racks of everyone else's hand-me-downs.

Photo credit: www.waymarking.com

Wandering Still? What It Means To Me

My Past
Small town Iowa girls don't often take far trips from home.  From birth to age 17 the longest trip I had taken was a three-hour road trip to my uncle's house in Weeping Water, Nebraska.  Then my mom blew everything out of the water.  Attempting to get me away from an abusive high-school boyfriend, she loaded me on a plane and sent me 8 flight hours away to the European continent.

Now, don't go thinking this was normal for my family.  We grew up on hand-me-down clothes and Hamburger Helper with twice the noodles and half the meat.  Fate just happened to intervene that year and I became the first student  hosted by our local Lions Club in a Youth Camp and Exchange Program. Traveling to Brussels with 25 Iowa teenagers and then embarking on a 6-week solo adventure with host families in the Netherlands was the most frightening enterprise imaginable.

I came home at the end of that summer an altogether different girl (yes, I did get rid of the loser of a boyfriend soon after).  Wanderlust has been a part of me ever since.  It prompted me to study Hospitality Management and released me from the Midwest to see the world.  Working seasonal hotel jobs, I lived on Cape Cod in Massachusetts and all over the state of Alaska.  Because they were seasonal jobs, and in the tourism industry, I was also afforded months of open-ended travel.  My mid-twenties found me gallivanting around the globe and culminated in a 4-month backpacking/cruising trip that hopped from the Caribbean to western Mexico, from southeast Asia to Australia and New Zealand.  Those are the days that spoiled me!

My Present
I'm married to a native Utahn and that has been my dwelling for the past 7 years.  Within 9 months of moving here I had experienced more of what this diverse state has to offer than a friend who'd been going to school here more than 3 years.  As a married couple, and now as a family with two young boys, we've made it a priority to continue getting out to see what there is to see.

People often give us long sideways glances after hearing of the next trip we're planning or reading about our latest exploits on our family blog, It's What We Do.  What they usually fail to understand is that while they're spending their free money on clothes, eating out, and movies, we're bundling ours together and escaping the humdrum of our every day lives.  The ultimate example of these glances, and our own sacrifices, was a 6-week trip to Europe in celebration of my husband's college graduation and our son's 1st birthday.  More than anything, it proved to me that I was still me and the doors of the world hadn't closed when I said, "I do."

My Future
A day does not go by without me gazing out my window wondering where else there is to be.  Traveling is now inherently in me.  I used to passionately proclaim that, "You don't have to settle down until your kids are in school!"  I want my family to share the world with me.  Some argue that toddlers and infants are too little to even know, that world travel is wasted until they're old enough to read the places they are going.  I don't agree.  My 3-year-old son Beck is a map-lover!  He will stop every 10 steps, lay down his map, and recalculate which way we should be heading.  I want him and his baby brother Peyton to start out right from the beginning with a love and appreciation for exploring.

Peyton will turn 1 in March and I want more than anything to be somewhere exotic on his birthday.  Not to be snobby, but for him to look back in 20 years and know that that is who we were.  Beck starts school in less than 2 years.  I want more than anything not to put him on the bus for his first day of kindergarten with the regret that we never got him out of here.

Ben and I are working on a goal.  By January 1, 2012, we are going to be out of here.  Maybe we won't be continent-hopping like I'd once dreamed, but we will be packed and jet-setting to somewhere more exotic than Lindon, Utah.  And, then, who knows...kids can do complete K-12 programs online now...the world doesn't have to settle in on me!

Tragic Day in Utah History

 

Built in 1883, the Provo Tabernacle caught fire this morning shortly before 3AM.  Our kids are sick and no one in our house was sleeping so we decided to drive down and witness this horrible historical event.  The roof collapsed near 6AM and it's expected the building will be a total loss. 


For photos, video, and more information, visit my family blog here

This Season is Not For Me

My husband and I have an agreement.  When the outdoor thermometer reaches 50, I'll bundle myself up and come out to play (curse Mother Nature for interrupting my hibernation with a balmy Utah December). Winter is not my season. Let me share with you a representation of the wintertime experiences that have chiseled me.

Iowa
Anyone who has grown up in the Midwest will emphatically tell you that cold is cold.  Ice and wet, heavy snow combine with wind to cut through to the bone.  Blizzards trap you inside with the thrill of surviving without electricity.  The moonlight sparkling on deep ice-crusted snow brings peace and creates moments to peacefully ponder an unbroken world.  Until you have to go out in it.

As a teenager I found myself in with an afternoon paper route that I hated.  In summer it was a 2-hour bother.  In winter it was absolute sensory torture.  Trudging through unshoveled sidewalks and drives, I came home soaking wet to painfully thaw out my limbs and digits.  Only one time did I attempt to speed the process along on wheels.  At first the quickness and the dryness seemed a luxury.  What I'd never experienced on foot, though, were the unplowed icy roads.  Barely half an hour into my daily routine I watched my front bicycle tire slip to the left as the back tire slid to the right.  I, with my 25 newspapers, landed flat in the middle of the two. Now wet from head to toe, I picked up my soggy papers, wiped away the tears burning themselves onto my frozen face, and finished the last 90 minutes of my route.

Fast forward 10 years to a better paying job and a better mode of transportation.  We lived on an unmaintained gravel road.  Driving home from my minimum wage job at nearly midnight, I crept along the icy highway to the gravel  home stretch.  Confident I'd made it home, I tried to drive through one last drift.  A mile from home, stuck in the middle of the road, there was no hope of breaking free.  My options were to sit there crying and cursing, or get out and run home...I ran home... in high heel boots with no coat, gloves, or hat.  I ran in the back door, through the kitchen, past my family playing cards, and straight to the blazing fireplace.  I almost jumped into that fire.  My chest and cheeks were burning.  Dad went to dig out my car and an hour later I could finally feel my nose.

Alaska
With a knowledge of how much I hate winter, I should have moved south when I flew my parent's nest.  Instead, I headed north to Fairbanks, Alaska.   The northern lights are magical crackling across the dark night (and dark day) sky, but there's a penalty for that reward.  Every car has snow studs, an oilpan heater, and battery plug-in, and every driver has a second set of keys.  Locked up cars run in the parking lot for hours while their drivers finish their shopping or enjoy a date night movie.

Fairbanks is the place I came to know what -56 degrees feels like.  An innocent evening of dancing turned into something entirely different when our ride decided to leave without telling me.  He did tell my roommate, but well into her New Year's Eve drinking, she decided not to remember that until the bar doors were locking behind us.  Dressed only in a short black skirt and sheer tanktop, I cursed every single life event that had brought me to that place at that time.  Literally freezing to death, we waited huddled together (me gagging with every whiff of my roommate's alcohol breath) for her mom to arrive, chastise us, and deliver us back home.

Utah
Still I didn't feel the kick in the pants telling me to fly for warmer climates.  Rather, I landed here in Utah; home of "the greatest snow on Earth."  Now, Utah winters are mild and endurable compared to what else I've lived through.  The problem is that people who choose to live here do so because there are activities to be doing outdoors all year long.  While my husband and I were dating, he tried to initiate me to his favorite winter activity: skiing.

Worst experience ever.  Both the skiing and allowing my boyfriend be my teacher.  Only making it up the first lift at Sundance, it took me 4 hours to get back down.  I did not have a clue what I was doing.  Every time I was supposed to turn I landed flat on my back (or my front, or my side, or his back, or his side).  I don't know what was more wounded at the end of the day, my body or my pride.  After miraculously getting down the slope one time unbroken, I sent Ben back to the top to get in what he could the rest of the day.  It turned out to only be one more run. We both still feel the pain of that day.

It's been some more years and Utah is still where we stay.  Beck is now 3 and begging us to get on his own pair of skis.  It turns out I woke up one day and found out I was raising mountain babies.  So what do I do?  I watch the snowmen taking shape from the warmth of my living room.  I bundle up and run from the car to the indoor play yards.  I fantasize a day when snowshoeing or cross-country skiing can happen in the heat of July, and I harbor a deep little secret.  I want to tackle the challenge of skiing.  It's cold and the ground is hard, but I want to say I can do it.  Especially if my entire family is soon going to be out there breezing down the hillside.