What we did this weekend

Okay the pictures are courtesy Heather; I may add some more here later on tonight. The blog to follow is courtesy me. Matthew.

So here's what we did this weekend, with Heather and Darin and Joey and Mom here:

Saturday Mom and Joey got here at about 9 am. Heather and Darin had gotten here late Thursday night I think. So the first thing we did was gather our stuff and go to Sundance. The weather was fantastic and warm--shortsleeve weather for me. We went through the place and walked around the trees, the birches and alders, and we checked out the little food store and the (overpriced, but hey, it's a resort) gift shop. The whole mountainside was covered with evergreens and the sun lit the whole valley and it was beautiful and clear out and the fresh mountain air was invigorating.

Then we drove on up further to Park City. We parked and walked up and down the main street strip. We went into a Native American store and I think most of us came away with some goodies. Amy and I bought two little hand drums for Bella and Jarom--the kind you spin back and forth between your palms and they drum themselves (they're going to use these at the drumcircle next Sunday--and a small (but "authentic"!) dreamcatcher that we hung up over the kids' window to keep night terrors and any nightmares Jarom might have away, a long strand of Indian (as in India) colorfully sewn bird-bells that we hung up, and a box of piñon incense block that smell awesome and I've been burning multiples of them each day.

We walked further up and (at least I did) read some historical markers. Believe it or not Park City is at least somewhat historical for Utah. There was some interesting business about the fire bell, how the whole of downtown burnt down in 1898 and so they built this three-story tower to house the fire alarm bell. The tower's still there, too. Every place is historical in its own way really, it just matters more to certain people than to others. And either way, it's always interesting. There's an amazing amount of history in everything we can imagine!

At the bottom of the strip, near where we parked, Amy went back to the car to nurse Orion and then Joey started scaling this wooden pillar that held up the concrete platform we were on. I joined him, and it was hard, but fun. We have pictures (maybe I'll post these later). Then Jarom and Bella wanted to do it so we had them climb a short railing near the stairs. And they were great pseudo-climbers.

That night we came back and we were starved, so we went to eat at Rumbi's which was delicious of course, and I ordered a full bowl and became overfull but satisfied.

Sunday we went to this canyon in Pleasant Grove, up 200 South all the way to the mountain. There were these four horse trailers parked there, owned by these four cowboys with horses and a mule that we ended up seeing on the way back down. It was another perfect day in Utah. The trail was this gravel "road" that appears to have been built to cover a water pipe. My guess is that the trail was about a mile each direction. Mom was the biggest trooper (and Amy too, with a newborn practically), who hiked the whole thing! Her first hike in twenty years she tells me. We all had fun. There was a little dammed-up pond about halfway up that we stopped and tried to skip rocks on, and Joey did some rock scaling when the walls started jutting out like steep ledges. Once at the top, we all waded in the cold water, pure snow runoff, and most of looked out over the edge (including Jarom) for at least a minute or two, until it got too nerve-racking or others were getting anxious about your tomfoolery or what have you. It was beautiful; out between the two canyon edges you could see Utah Lake in the distance and little townish parts of Pleasant Grove and chunks of the big blue sky. The waterfall was small, thirty feet tallish, but all rocks everywhere, dual products of natural processes and mankind's lovely TNT demolitions (that's just my conjecture). No one slipped off. Then hiked down to the bottom of the little falls and took quite a few pictures. Darin and Joey and I all got in the waterfall a little; I hiked up the mossy and licheny rock wall, got about six feet high (not very) and became entirely soaked. But the water seemed clean and fresh and was cool when it was so dry and hot out, so I didn't mind. Then we said goodbye, hiked back down and talked horses and jackasses and mules and burros with the cowboys.

We made a brief stint at the gas station for some pickmeups and then to Walmart where Amy and Mom could get some burpcloth fabric, then we went home to make dinner. But first we went down to the field at the Farrar school to try and fly the new kite that Adie bought for Jarom and Bella, before the rain fell. We got there just in time--the wind had picked up and it wasn't too cold. Darin got involved in a little game of soccer with his new best friends, some Provo kids. The rest of us flew the kite. Or watched it being flown. I was mostly in charge of it, but I had never flown one before, so forgive me, it was addicting. I got the hang of it after a few sprints up the field. Both Jarom and Bella also took turns, as best they could, and the kite really took to the wind, whipping and soaring in all directions, sometimes swooping down and about taking Darin's head off or maybe that guy on the bike that I almost decapitated.

So then I realize that hey, I'm figuring out how to fly this thing, so I let a ton of string go. The kite is hanging, way up there overhead, and the wind is getting stronger. I just keep letting string out. Then it starts to rain. And the wind goes crazy. The kite dips down by the trees and I barely save it--Bella's trying to help me--we're trying to reel it in but I didn't realize how much line was out. We're reeling in like mad (my forearms are sore); we can hardly keep the kite under control. It almost kills that biker guy, like I said before, and I'm hoping the line doesn't break. It's like pulling in a shark with a little fishing pole. Finally after maybe five or ten minutes the kite's low enough but the wind catches it and hurls it into the street, where it nosedives. I want to save it so I hand Amy the reel and hop the chainlink fence barefoot and pull it from the street before the wind or a car gets to it. It's fine, no damage at all. Who'd have thought flying a kite could be so fun? My new passion. The saddest part about the whole windstorm ordeal was that Amy was trying to tape the whole thing, she was so excited that she caught it all on the video camera, then it turns out that the camera never turned on, so it's all lost, lost to the little happy cavities in our minds that remember fun ephemeral experiences and enjoyable days. It's not really lost. Not at all.

All the kite-while Mom was making dinner, and with Heather and Amy's help they whipped up delicious enchiladas in about three different varieties to cater to everyone's taste idiosyncrasies, and I hurry up and make some salsa and everything turns out so good and filling. We eat and eat and then put the kids to bed and watch Everything Is Illuminated before going to bed ourselves.

Yes, I had a fine weekend--we all did, thank you.