Boating With Buddies and Cousins

We have gone boating many times this summer. The following are a few pictures of our adventures. Including boating at Bear Lake and Lake Lowell with friends and cousins.

Savanna in the cubby of our boat.

Austin and Logan tubin on the lake.

Moving on to Madelyn's boating trip with her buddies

Madelyn's friends Allison and Megan tubing on Lake Lowell.

Madelyn and Shandi tubing off of the wake.

Shandi and Allison had fun after that picture.I gave them a wild ride.

These two amigos,where the very first people to EVER be flipped off of that tube. Megan is on the left side of the picture, Kara is on the right. Goes to show you that when I drive hold on tight because you have NO idea what is coming to you.

Last but not least is Melissa, the one with the red life jacket.


To finish this post I am going to just put a few of our pictures from our Bear Lake trip.

The Whoopin Shed

That's where I took my garage today. I am NOT a clutter person. I will throw everything away. Haven't used it in a year? Gone. Except I have to be careful since it takes two people to have a marriage.

Funny that I can be so anti-clutter. And still be such a slob sometimes. How does that work? Maybe I let things creep in on me until I hit insane. Then I go nuts.

Anyway - Take that garage!

#4

Nathan: Mom, do you know my favorite thing to eat in the world?

Me: What?

Nathan: Anything what has sugar.

Spring is Springing

My grass is turning green, my lilac is on the verge of blooming. All the buds on the trees are plump.

I love it.

Dear Tiger Woods,

You don't owe me an apology. I don't know if you knew this but, you are a GOLF-ER. You hit a little white ball with a titanium stick for a living. Last I checked, that doesn't help cure cancer. Or diabetes.

Some people are upset because you were set up as an "image" and then you went and shattered it. Or your wife did when she 7-ironed your window. Beautiful call wife. Although I would've gone with the Big Bertha driver, and the birdie.

So what, people are upset because Tiger Woods was false advertising? Good thing this is the only commercial that lies. What? It's not?

Oh crap, you mean I won't be able to play golf like him, even if I buy everything Nike? Wait a minute, so... guys who eat Carls Jr. burgers aren't going to actually make it with Paris Hilton? And beer doesn't make me beautiful? And freedom has nothing to do with Coke? Oh the inhumanity of it all.

I'm just wondering, why do we give extra credibility to people who are on t.v.? I don't get it.

Tents are hard. And so is writing.

I love Russell from Disney/Pixar's movie UP. Because, "When we get to the falls, you're going to feel SOO assisted."

Now for the real reason I'm writing this post.

I've been moving faster than I ever have on the current novel I'm working on. It's pouring out of me. Not perfectly mind you, but it is coming. Which I believe is 95% of the battle. And did you know that 78% of statistics are made up on the spot?

It's been a privilege to get to know my character. To understand what she's going through, and to help her find a way to some sort of resolution. But at the resolution, I am not. I'm smack dab in the heart of it. Feeling the pain. Seeing in my mind every little thing that happens to her.

I can smell it. I can taste it. And earlier today I had to stop writing it. For a little while. It's hard stuff right now.
I try to push through it. To close my eyes and let my fingers speed through some of the hardest moments. I find myself holding my breath. Feeling panic. Anxiety. And sorrow. So much sadness. Because what is coming from my fingers really does happen.

Maybe that's the hardest part. Knowing there are children who live this life. I find myself in parts of it. Take away the flesh and many people will see a familiarity of their own childhood gone terribly wrong.

I don't think there has been a time in my life previous to this where I would have felt strong enough to write this. I have many loved ones that I can thank for much of my own healing. And two specifically who have guided me to this point.

Writing can be every kind of emotion.

Today it was pain.

Barbie In The Snow (Not unlike the Cypher)

A family of five girls. And I was smack dab in the middle. I was surrounded on every side by girliness. Blond nylon hair, disproportionate long legs to the extreme, and designer outfits littered the bedrooms and hallways. Occasionally a half-naked Barbie was found in the kitchen's junk drawer. It was a Tim Burton Mattell nightmare.

Someone had to break free from the perfectly painted blue-eyed madness. That's when I discovered Transformers and G.I. Joe's. I was already familiar with mud, snakes, frogs, and trees. But now I had comrades.

No Barbie was safe. I knew where they hid them, and knowing is half the battle. G.I. Joe and Cobra had many wars. There were mass casualties, including decapitated and butched Barbies. Some came back with limbs having been blown off. War is hell, Barbie.

Yes, there were tears, and much tattling, but humans really have no control over Deceptacons. They're Rogue. They could hit you anywhere, anytime. Even when you're skinny dipping in a swimming pool also referred to as, mom's salad bowl.

Life was hard for Barbie and all of her clones. And now she's laying pantless in my backyard, in the snow. Chunks of ice sticking to her hair, she stares into the sky, "help me, help me."

Not my daughters Barbie, no, it's the dogs. Who knew Barbie's hair was so yummy and chewable?

Do I open the back door, walk three steps and save her?