Goodbye, Border Collie

We had a sad weekend. Luke, our Border Collie, was hit by a truck by my parents' house and we had to put him down. He was only three and a half years old and it seems like such a shame that his life was so short. We miss him a ton but we thank God for giving us the time to enjoy him that we had. I'll miss my walking buddy. Marshall will miss his "Border Tolly". Viggo will miss his obnoxious little brother. And Jesse will miss his friend. We love you, Luke! Thanks for the fun times.

My Husband, The Comedian

If asked to describe my husband in one word, most people that know him would probably say easy-going, quiet, even-tempered or something else along those lines. I don't think humorous is the first word that comes to mind when someone thinks of Jesse. In all actuality, some of the funniest things I've ever heard have come from him. He says things that, even years later, still make me laugh out loud whenever I think if them. Maybe it's because he is so quiet that when something funny comes out of his mouth it hits me extra hard because he's not the one you would expect it to come from. I hope you enjoy his humor in the following stories as much as I do.

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My brother, Richard, is notorious for his expensive taste. One night, Jesse and I went out to dinner with Richard and his wife, Jill. Richard wanted to go to Fleming's Steakhouse at the Gateway. The restaurant was way too expensive but it turned out to be a really fun night, except for Jesse ending the night with a self-inflicted sickness which actually made me quite mad. How could he throw up a meal that was so expensive! He tried to make the situation better by saying, "At least I got to taste it twice." Ew, gross!!!

Months later when we were talking about the night we went to Fleming's and how expensive it was Richard said, "Why did we go there? Didn't we have a coupon or something?"

I said, "Richard, they don't really give out coupons for restaurants like that."

Then Jesse piped up and said, "Yeah Rich, we got it in our Valpak."

It still cracks me up.

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The next story occurred when Jesse was working as a brick mason for my dad. There was never a dull moment with the men on his crew because something crazy was always going on in at least one of their lives at any given moment.

One guy, I'll call him T for his sake, was always fighting with his girlfriend. These were knock-down, drag-out fights these two lovebirds would have. As a result of one of these fights and the use of a large Salt City Candle against his face, T was missing a few teeth. He was a cowboy and this really made him look like a hillbilly.

At lunch one day, the guys were teasing T about how he always tucked in his shirt when all they were doing was laying brick. T said, "Some people consider it neat and proper to tuck in their shirt."

Jesse said, "Some people consider a full set of teeth neat and proper."

T didn't talk to him the rest of the day.

Tangible Advice

For the past few months, whenever I tuck Marshall in at night his last words to me as I walk out of his room have been, "Make sure the guys don't get me." If I don't acknowledge what he said he will yell it over and over until I stick my head in his room and say, "Okay, I'll make sure the guys don't get you." I think he overheard me retelling a time I had to wake Jesse up at night because he was having a bad dream that guys were chasing him and he couldn't get away. These guys don't seem to scare Marshall but it makes me feel bad that my little boy goes to sleep thinking someone is going to get him.

One night after saying bedtime prayers and getting him cozy for bed he gave me his standard make-sure-the-guys-don't-get-me response as I was leaving. I believe kids understand more than we give them credit for so I decided to give him some advice that I thought would help. I told him that there were no guys that were going to get him and whenever he gets scared he can always talk to Jesus and ask Him to help him not be afraid. Marshall listened very closely and then said, "And Viggo will rip the guy's arm off."

"Yes, Honey. Viggo will rip his arm off."

Sounds like Daddy beat me to it with advice that may be slightly more tangible for a two year old.

Living Up To His Name

Star Valley

The three of us recently took a short trip to Star Valley, Wyoming. I've often heard people refer to places they love and consider beautiful as God's Country. Star Valley is God's Country for us. Don't be surprised if we decide to move there one day.

We stayed in a cozy little cabin at the north end of Afton. It was kind of a last minute excursion and the best part was that we had no agenda. We did whatever we wanted which amounted to eating a lot, trying to fish (the Salt River was too high and was moving too fast and I kept having visions of Marshall getting swept down the river in a matter of seconds), reading (I read, Jesse played his guitar), hiking, a little shopping, and relaxing.

As we were driving along a road that led to Bridger National Forest we happened along an alpaca farm. There was a guy standing outside the little red barn who saw us looking and motioned for us to come over. We pulled over and saw a little baby alpaca with his mom. The guy told us that the baby was only 30 minutes old. Talk about being in the right place at the right time. It was so cute to see this wobbly little animal trying to stand on it's skinny little legs. (If you are eating while reading this or just have a weak stomach I suggest that you stop reading because this will get a little gross.) The baby was so new it was still wet and the mother had not even delivered the placenta yet. She delivered it while we were there and that was when Jesse decided it was time to go; the man can only handle so much. After we got in the car Marshall said "She has a balloon on her butt." Which is exactly what it looked like.

On our way home we stopped at a fun playground in Bear River. Marshall loved this horse swing. They sell these at CAL Ranch and I keep trying to convince my parents that they need one for their barn.

We had a blast and we plan on making Star Valley a regular getaway for us.

A Night Out with The Eagles and the Old Timers

Okay, they weren't that old; in their fifties and sixties mostly.

This past weekend Jesse and I had a most interesting experience at the Eagles concert. We went with my mom and dad and a few of their friends, not to mention the other twenty friends my parent's happened to run into that night. I can't go anywhere with them without running into someone they know.

Before this concert, if you were to ask me what songs The Eagles sang I would only be able to tell you "Hotel California". After going to the concert I realize they sing a lot of songs that I know and like; I just didn't realize they were Eagles songs.

I was expecting it to be a really mellow night of relaxing and listening to some older music, then my dad started talking about how everyone would be standing through the whole concert. I told him I didn't think they would. He told me how he and my mom went to a KISS concert when they were younger and everyone stood through the whole thing. I said, "That was thirty years ago. Now everyone is old and arthritic." My dad wisely replied while holding up his beer, "Yes, but this is arthritis medicine." He was right. Those old timers stood through the whole concert! I was worn out by the end and they were all still raring to go.

It was crazy. They were standing on chairs, dancing in the aisles, breaking the ties holding the chairs together so they could have more room to sit, and, of course, there was that oh so identifiable smell of marijuana drifting through the stadium. And I thought I was going to spend a nice, wholesome evening with my parents. The concerts Jesse and I have been to have all been very mild in comparison.

One thing I found very interesting is how friendly they all were. By the end of the night everyone around us was talking like they were old friends and my dad had even been given a few nicknames. I told my mom that was a big difference between their generation and my generation. The girls my age just kind of stare each other down and the guys are too busy being cool. There's no attempt to be friendly with strangers. We tend to stay in our little bubbles. Maybe that's one area where I should start to imitate my parent's crazy generation. **Note to self: Be more friendly.**

It was a fun night and a big thanks to my dad for buying us the tickets.

Naughty Horn

Our neighbor plays an uncommon musical instrument and on occasion can be heard practicing outside. It's the kind of instrument that just fills the air with music and we can't quite tell from which direction its coming.

Jesse and Marshall were hanging out on the deck listening to the music from this instrument the other day. The next day Marshall was telling me about the "naughty horn" he and daddy had heard on the deck the night before.

I couldn't quite understand what he was talking about so after a little probing I figured it out. I first realized he was not talking about a horn but a pipe. This naughty pipe could also be described as bad.

Can you figure out what musical instrument he was talking about?

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It was the bagpipes! Or, according to Marshall, the bad pipes.