Work in Progress

The first in a new series of spots we just finished for Subway and the Utah Jazz. As projects go, this one was better than most... Turns out it's hard to complain about being paid to be strategically ridiculous. The cast, crew and players were also all pretty great... making a lot of work seem only like a fair amount of work.

Boomerang

If you remember, I posted recently about Eden's move up to Logan and into Utah State. Tears were shed, deposits were made and roommates were... Armenian. Well that was so August. Eden is now back home, in a new school and headed a new direction. In fact, she just started last week at a Paul Mitchell to pursue cosmetology. She just felt that a four year college wasn't "her thing". Hard to argue with that, but we did nonetheless. As a parent, you feel conflicted. You want the best for your kids and you want them to be happy. But what if what makes them happy doesn't fit your idea of what's best? And what if the thing you think is best doesn't at all make them happy? You question every motivation... on both sides. In the end, the call was hers to make. And so she's here, she's happy and we are as proud as ever.

Treeline

October 17, 2010
Near Wendell, Idaho... along I-84

Test for Echo

Evan doesn't say much these days... he's all about the one-word answer. "How was school? we ask." "Good." "Are you hungry?" Tracy offers. "Kinda." In spite of the new teenage minimalism, we suspect he's still the same one-of-a-kind kid underneath. How do we know? (click the image to enlarge)

Exhibit A: On the left is a scan of our Sacrament Program. When his iPod Touch is frowned back into his pocket during church, he'll typically grab a program and go to work counting every vowel and consonant. So is he a codebreaker or just a little OCD? We don't know. We do think he might also be listening to the speakers, but haven't had the energy to try and drill him for details.

Exhibit B: On the right is Evan's iTouch. Possibly inspired by the movie "The Fantastic Mr. Fox", he's been learning the Latin names of as many animals as he can think of. He's up to 74. I asked him today whether he knew all of them. "Most" he says from the other room. "Ferret?" I ask randomly. "Mustela Putorius Furo". "Hey, that was three words," I say to myself. We're making progress.

Patch Work

Maybe this lousy garden thing is actually turning out for the best. For the second year in a row (that counts as a tradition, right?) we all hit Mabey's Pumpkin Farm to overdo things as only we can.

Scout Math

This is me. (I'm conflicted)

A few weeks back, we marched our scout troop into the Uintahs. Destination: Ibantik Lake. Objective: The Fishing Merit Badge. For those unfamiliar with the area, the Uintahs are mountains, but the place is really all about the lakes. There are at least 43,000 of them. Some large, some just glorified ponds.

Inevitably, we got a late start leaving town, getting us off the trail and into camp well after dark. It was a fairly arduous hike... at least by "city" standards... some four miles each way, punctuated by a fairly steep climb over "The Notch". The youngest scouts didn't complain too much. The older ones did. "I'm never coming on another one of these" one would say. "Why can't we stop at this perfectly good lake?" another would logically offer. "This sucks" said Evan. While I harbored some of the same sentiments, I'm a leader and an adult... So I had to put on a better face.

A nearly full moon allowed us to sent up camp sans flashlight.... in what appeared to be a sandy spot right on the shore. Next came the campfire and foil dinners, always the highpoint. After inhaling sufficient smoke and molten cheddar, we turned in. (several hours too early). A piece of advice: When camping, resist the temptation to go to be before midnight. What seemed like exhaustion and soft sand turned out to be neither. I slept like crap. Turns out I like to sleep on my side. Apparently the folks who make Thermarest Pads have never met someone like me. I should send them an email. The only unexpected solace was the constantly looping "Stand by Me" coming from somewhere inside Evan's sleeping bag.

We rose early to a crystalline sunrise and the promise of fly fishing on a remote mountain lake. Early fall when the bugs have gone? On a lake everyone else is too lazy to hike in to? Paydirt. Unsurprisingly, the trout-stravaganza we'd hope to hit never quite materialized, leaving my string of fishing trips without fish completely in tact. To be fair, a few small fish were taken by others less eternally damned than ourselves.

11am: Back on the trail.
2pm: Gone Burgers at Hi-Mountain Drug in Kamas.
4pm: Throwing our backpacks on the living room floor.

It wasn't a bad time, the Uintahs are fairly breathtaking and I feel like we earned what we took. But in spite of all we told the kids, I'm not sure the ROI really works. Three hours driving + six hours hiking + zero hours sleeping = approximately zero fish. But his isn't a conversation we adults can have. Can we?


Not Ibantik

Ibantik

Evan at the top of The Notch

West Desert

Last Rays