I just got word they are closing the doors on my Hoods-In-The-Woods Desert Death Camp. Aspen Achievement Academy was my favorite summer job during my BYU days. This is where I fell madly in love with Capital Reef, Utah.

Here are a few vintage shots of the Velvet Flats I dug up. These are straight out of camera. I used a polarizer, but the chroma is pure Southern Utah. It's that good.

Bobbing to the top??

Kind of like a Magic 8 ball. Little bits of meaningless and important cliches pop up from dark murky liquid. I hold it in my hands -- a warm magic ball. And it is only big to me. Predictable and lucky like calling a shot: 8 ball to the corner pocket. Sink it.

(I'm not as fancy as I sound. I've always been loud, dramatic and a mess of a mixed metaphor. My big storms are a mile wide and an inch deep. Really, they only mean something on the surface. Courage, brothers!!)

Dad died. It was big -- big as Lake Bonneville draining all at once into Idaho. It will take a bit to dry off and wade through a now shallow ocean of heavy loam. Just as easy to drown in two inches of mud as 400 feet of water if you stay face down for too long.

Grief makes you dumb, I guess. And I love my new club of women with out dads. You girlfriends know who you are and I thank you!!!

Thank you, Mr. Canlas

I had a friend come by and take a few pictures. Too much to say but sometimes stories are beyond words. Thanks, Jon!

Please check out more pictures here. http://canlasphotography.blogspot.com/2010/10/pitcher-family.html

Thanks, Judy

Like I tell my kids -- it's just three movies and one dinosaur museum away. Who wants to go to Colorado? (Me! Pick me!)

Judy is my super-human friend and "life coach" who has rescued me from the brink of Colorado fever time and time again. She just sent me this shot from the inside of my parent's bat cabin where I spent a good chunk of my summer. She's wonderful but the picture makes me homesick.

(Out, out -- damn bat.)

Dear Marco ...

I love you, sweetie!! Would you marry me all over again ... in this dress???

(You have to give this video a minute and a half to really get to the point. What?! You have time for two minutes of "postum-autumn" art. This is my new art movement. It is derived from the return of children to school in the autumn, giving Mormon hipster moms enough time to brew a good strong cup of Postum and sip it slowly whilst surfing design blogs. These are the good times. Anyone got some extra ketchup??)

Rosie by the fire

Cozy and sleepy next to the fire. Welcome to Utah, Rosie Jo!

love is in the air ...

and so is fall.

(Anyone want to swap something I have for a whole bunch of HTML advise?? My pictures are posting fuzzy. Click on Zina to see the real thing.)

Chickie Davis

It's a long story . . . and all my mother's fault! I'll tell you about it later, but for now please welcome our newest family member -- Chickie Davis. (Xan just calls her Rose.)

This one is nobody's chicken but mine.

BTW - I think I am bashing my head against techn0-color template issues here. What's a girl to do??

Z at the Dentist

Here's her version of Fifty-Nifty while on "silly juice". (Sorry I ran out of memory before the last line of the song.)

iThoughts

1. Maybe I shouldn't read The Bell Jar while Marco is on one of his mega China trips.

2. Maybe an iPhone would have saved Sylvia Plath's life. (I can see the Apple ad now -- a celestial Sylvia promoting an app for manic housewives stuck inside with babies because of English winter weather.)

3. Maybe this English winter weather in Utah is getting old.

4. Maybe I should keep my iPhone fully charged until the sun comes out again!!!

(posted from my iPhone)

The Lawyer's Daughter

She's FIVE, people!

Tonight as I tried to escape the kid room without being detected by lightly slumbering children, the following conversation occurred ....

Zina: MOMMY!!! DON'T GO!!!! YOU HAVE TO SNUGGLE ME FOR 3 WHOLE SONGS!! (We have played the same bed-time music CD just about every night for the last seven years.)

Me: I already said prayers, read stories, told times, rubbed back, found bunny, covered toes AND snuggled for 3 songs. Now I have to go down stairs and do the dishes. (Lord forbid I tell her that really I am heading off for two hours of mindless design blog surfing.)

Z: No, the back rub was the one you forgot last night and the prayers don't count as a bed time treat because Heavenly Father makes you say them too. So that is ... (counting on fingers) only 5 bed time things and not 7. Besides, we were saying prayers during most the first song. So really, you only snuggled me for two and a half songs -- OR LESS!

What if you snuggle me for half of one more song -- starting after we stop talking about it -- and pick two more bed time treat things because two of your ideas don't really count as treats for kids. You can do two more times (our word for stories) or a foot-rub on two of my feet. Which one do you pick?

Me: Zina, I am the mom and you are the kid and the kid part of the day is over and now I have to go do mom things ... like dishes. You know, boring work stuff. Then I promise I will come check on you before I go to bed.

Z: How about you just wash the "poky" knives and the butter knives and then you come back up?

Me: Honey, I have to do ALL of the dishes.

Z: Well, how about you can wash just the "poky" knives, the butter knives and three of the bowls -- then straight back upstairs.

Me: (Hoping for an easy out) OK, I will wash "poky" knives, butter knives and all of the bowls and then come check on you.

Z: Good. I will stay in bed while you are washing (counting on fingers for my benefit) "poky" knives, butter knives and all of the bowls, as long as you PROMISE not to wash any spoons, forks or plates. Then come straight back upstairs.

Me: Fine. Now go to SLEEP!

At which point -- I kid you not -- the child gets out of bed and turns on the light. When I ask her in my most exhausted mom voice what she thinks she's doing, her response was proof of her genetics. This kid comes from a long line of lawyers.

Z: I'm getting a piece of paper and pen so I can write down that you have promised to wash only the "poky" knives, butter knives and all bowls -- leaving alone any spoons, forks and plates until the morning. Then you will write that you will come straight upstairs to snuggle me for half of a song with no talking or prayers. After you write your part you have to write your name at the bottom and my name at the top. You can't just write M-O-M either. Lots of people are M-O-Ms. Just write A-N-D-I.

Me: ZINA, get in bed and go to sleep ... now!!!

Z: Ok, you can write the spoons in too and just do the M-O-M word if you like, deal??

ZINA, GO TO SLEEP, p l e a s e ....

In the end, she went to sleep and I didn't do any dishes. (Like contract law really works now days.)

I'm doing this!

Drama

It was a strange day of wandering around abandoned houses for sale and going to the eye doctor where I had several great esoteric conversations about blogging and the elevation of the Kiabab. It was normal Andi-esque random connections with total strangers. (I know, I just referred to myself in the third person. Sorry, we can work it out later in therapy.)

In the doctor's office, I officially introduced myself to a nice nurse named Ashley. I recognized her from blog hopping. "Hi -- I'm Andi. I've been blog stalking you. Not really, it's just that you are linked to the Arizona 20 something girl with all the drama. Do you know someone with premie twins and a dad who underwent emergency heart surgery last week?? Do you know how the surgery went?? She hasn't posted anything in over a week and I'm dying to know who killed JR -- er, I mean, uh -- if her dad pulled through or not."

It was slightly awkward being the crazy internet person who starts asking her questions about her personal life at her place of work. So what! To the dogs with propriety! My desire to find out what happened to a total stranger out weighed any shred of my pride that would keep the conversation on just a professional level. The good news is that Ashley the nice nurse doesn't think I am a crazy. (I gave her my blog address so she could see I was ... what ever it is that I am. But that's the subject of another post.) I have a new friend who's good with needles. Best of all, the dad of her friend appears be on the mend. All is well in Zion.

So, today at 3:40 pm -- just when I think I have wrapped up a good mystery and there is no more drama in my life, I ...

1. Lost my phone just at the time I needed to pick up a kid.

2. Found the phone, but lost the child.

3. Found the child ... 10 miles up the canyon where he got off the wrong bus.

4. Drove up the canyon in a blizzard safely.

5. Drove down the canyon in a blizzard.

6. Called 911 on my newly found phone when I saw a white pick-up truck go FLYING OFF THE SIDE OF THE HIGHWAY, LAUNCH OVER A SNOW BANK, BREAK INTO 17 PIECES AS IT DID A FLIP MID AIR AND LAND IN (or very, very near) THE RIVER UPSIDE DOWN.

The truck was driving the opposite direction in a snowstorm and over corrected after sliding on the road. The accident happened the second we drove past and I had dialed 911 before the cab landed on the ice. Only later did I think about how easily the truck could have flown off the road into oncoming traffic. We were the oncoming traffic.

And now I have no information about how the story ends. There's no blog link, no friend of a friend to randomly recognize. No nice nurse to say, "Hi -- I'm Andi. I've been blog stalking you. Not really, it's just that you are linked to the owner of the white truck that went flying off the road last week ..."

Did everything work out? I hope so. I hope someone walked away from the truck leaving the news with nothing to report. At least once today I found out that no news is good news.

Irony

39.7 means I crave Fire Hot Cheetos when I pms and I have a bad hip.

Lovely.

I caught a big one!

Look what I nabbed at Cindy's latest art opening! At first I thought it would be the fish that got away because I basically had to arm wrestle about 20 people for this piece. The photo is does not represent the item well (phone camera). It's a paper cut of two old geesers sitting on top of an icy lake, fishing for more than they realize.

I bet there is a Sunday school lesson cut into this piece. Maybe that's me and Marco up top, just shootin the breeze -- laughing about some NPR story. Only God really knows what lies just under the surface of our puny human lives. He's waiting to see how we react when we -- by hook or by crook -- snag a big gnarly monster fish of life and love!

Check out more of cindymindypindy's Sunday school visual aids here. (Cindy, I think I just gave you your next book idea -- hmmm?)

This morning on KSL

Baby Girl For Adoption

salt lake city, UT 84106 - Feb 19, 2010

i dont know if this is the best place to do this but i really do need to adopt out my little baby girl to any happy family out there. I was given this side by a friend who told me she once did and succeeded in finding a home for her child. Please if they is any one out there who can help, please do contact me now. I really do need your help

I found it in "other". This ad on KSL was taken down after a few hours of being posted. Bogus?? Or was it for real?? Tell me what you think.

Seriously, So Kursed ... 'n Stuff

(Click here if you are unfamiliar with "Seriously, So Blessed")

Last night I blog surfed until midnight. It was unintentional, I promise.

I was searching for images of metal railing and I clicked for 3 seconds on a blog post of a girl, obviously Mormon. It was a picture in a hospital lobby dated July 2007. That was three years ago. I had to see how it all turned out. I was off mom-duty and the dish washer was humming, "You deserve this, you cooked three meals, you cleaned the kitchen, you deserve this, you just keep surfing, you deserve this". (Raise your hand if you know exactly what I am talking about here.)

There's a feeling early on when you've hit a good vein of 20-something LDS "joyful tragedy" blogs. Nine times out of ten, the more wall paper, music and ALL CAPITAL LETTERS when that first page loads -- the sadder the beautiful patchwork story. Then you sit there ... with a bag of microwave popcorn ... watching the blog post roll out backwards. It's like watching a house on fire ... only in reverse ... starting with the 40 foot flames of personal tragedy ... usually a baby ... or four... and ending up with the perfect engagement picture.

It's a spectator sport.

Stop me if you've read this one: "I love wakin' up at 4:30 am to run the 10 miles in the snow to the NICU. (Got to get that pre-baby bod back!!!) Just love pumping for my pre-term twinners. Born at 21 weeks, my baby boy and girl (Chantz - the boy and Ashyr - the girl) are lit'l champs. Then I head upstairs to ICU. My daddio-patio is a big champ!! At 47 years old, nobody thought he would pull threw. Surprise, he just finished up his third round of flesh eating virus and a couple of open heart surgeries. Oh, yeah ... that huge cyst on my husband's frontal lobe looks way better after a couple of MRIs. They don't know what it is, but at least they know what it isn't."

(I have resisted the temptation to post the links, but if you email me I'll send them to you... they're seriously so real, I promise.)

It's a rough world out there with really upbeat people. Are Mormons more likely to blog their hardships than other religions? Is it like sending a picture with the wedding invite -- something only we do? I'm not making any of this up, even the preterm baby names. (Asher for a girl??) And I don't mean to make fun of anyone either. They are simple people in very difficult circumstances, and they really have positive attitudes. They're everyday Saints. And they blog because talking positively about their lives helps them to feel better about their lives.

Then I clicked one of these girls' random "friends" links. (For rill it was someone named Tam R.S.) Guess who was in the first picture of the most recent post ... my kid in his kindergarten duck costume.

It is all around us, people -- all around us.

Will you be my v-a-l-e-n-Z-i-n-e?

Guess who got a hair cut ...

I think this cut was invented for Zina or she for it ... I don't know which. Let's see if we can stave off a return to the "long hair curse" of little girls with ultra fine hair for a bit longer. Oh, how I love her with sassy flapper hair.

Confession: I am not above giving into a green sugary bribe to get a decent shot. Not proud of it, but now you know.

Old School

It's tradition! Here's a pile of hand cut Valentines from this morning.

Alien Valentines from "Zather".

Zina got her first growing flower card from Daddio. Me thinks this is not the first expandable Valentine Marco has whipped together for a five year old.