Here’s what we needed today:
Why? Because Brian and I have had a very stressful weekend. One of those curl-into-a-ball-on-the-couch kind of times. I can’t get into the details right now, but let’s just say that both Jeff and Eleanor were throwing up all day yesterday, and it didn’t even phase us compared to the Big Bad Thing.
I mean, Jeff even threw up in the middle of Sacrament Meeting.
All over the pew.
While I was in the middle of playing prelude music on the organ.
And when someone came up to tell me that Jeff had thrown up, I cried “Holy crap!” a little too loudly, and yanked my hands off the keyboard in the middle of a chord . . .
. . . then noticed that the chapel had become eerily quiet. Pulling myself together, I shakily stumbled back into the music.
Brian wasn’t there; he had stayed home with Eleanor. Some amazing church members stepped forward to get Jeff cleaned up while I crawled through the opening hymn, the sacrament hymn, and then the congregational hymn. At that point, Jeff made a mad dash to the bathroom for a second round of sick. Praying that the rest of the meetings’ speakers were long-winded, I grabbed both boys, stuffed them in the car, drove them home (“I’ll explain later,” I shouted to Brian,) then dashed back to church.
Fortunately, the speakers were nice and long. I think it’s the first time I’ve ever been happy about that.
BUT, all that hubbub was nothing, I say nothing compared with the stress from the bad news we got on Friday.
So, a distraction was in order. TO THE MOUNTAINS!
We went to Wasatch Mountain State Park, home of alpenhorn goodness.
Ostensibly to snowshoe, but it’s been a dry winter so far and there wasn’t enough snow for it. Instead, we pulled on boots and hit the trail for a snowy walk.
I love William’s winter ensemble here. Monster hat (present from grandma), stripey scarf (present from other grandma) a size-too-big coat because his regular coat was left at church (see the Grand Spew Incident, above) and big sister’s hand-me-down pink boots. RAWR!
We saw a bird’s nest, which the park rangers said might belong to a mountain bluebird . . .
. . . and a few cute bird tracks.
There were snowstorms looming above us, on the peaks. It made the scene look half-erased, as if a landscape painter changed his mind, waiting for a better idea to strike.
The kids were whiny at times, but eventually became more stalwart. It wasn’t that cold, to tell the truth. And while the path was slippery, only one of us ever slipped. (Me. Ow. Ironically, it happened just at the moment Brian and I were discussing the novel Icefall.)
Here’s the real reason we decided to hike in Midway:
Tarahumara! One of our favorite Mexican restaurants. They have killer chilles rellenos, and about twenty kinds of salsa. I like the pineapple mango best.
But the bakery items are my favorite — orejas, pastelas, and key lime flan. They aren’t pictured because they were eaten too quickly.
The day overall?