Scout camp

What am I describing...

What does this sound like?

1. Eating out at restaurants.
2. Travel.
3. Visiting relatives.
4. Watching a fire in the evening.
5. Spending time as a family.
6. Going to or watching movies.
7. Lots of packing and unpacking.
8. Stress.


If you said vacation, you just failed.  The preceding was a test of the emergency broadcast system.  beeeeeeeeppppppppp.


So on Thursday, Lake Mountain caught on fire.  With impressive winds and dry conditions, the fire would grow to over 6000 acres, including the hills within a mile of our home.  We were given an hour to evacuate (more than some who unfortunately had five minutes). 


The steps of our evacuation were this:














1. Maggie panics that the house will burn down.  David hopes the house will burn down so it can get rebuilt right (never buy a Centex home).  Tim and Ami find this exciting.  A friend took this picture.



2. Grab the 72 hour kits, journals, scriptures, photos, hard drives.  Realize that took 7 minutes.  Send the children after the important things: the blue-rays, rare books, and video games.  Melissa grabs the camping gear.  David considers if it would be inappropriate to pray that the fire raze the neighborhood.  Still more time?  Grab the bo-staff and weapons for practice. 


3. Neighbors offer to help load the car and truck.  Guess we should get going.  Thanks friends.


4. Brother Josh offered a break from the smoke.  We head for their pad. Children realize it is like a vacation.


5. Invade space of Brother Josh, feel intrusive in spite of their absolute kindness and hospitality.  Daydream that home burns down so we can use insurance displacement cash to buy a 5th wheel and get new wardrobes.  


6. Psychotic barrage of text messages and Facebook posts begin (ends two days later).  Realize unlimited texting was a must. 


7. Head out to lunch and to watch the movie Brave (jaw dropping graphics, formulaic story, fluffy hair, kilts). Critics were a bit too harsh on it.  



8. Smoke from fire invades entire valley.  Go to bed.

9. Wake up.  Family bo-staff practice.  Amirrah forgets rules 
about not "playing" with a weapon and goes down the slide with it in front of her.  Smacks head, monster goose-egg.  "You'll poke your eye out."  Kids do dress-up with costumes.

10.  More eating out.  Trip to the aquarium, Deseret Industries, & Petsmart. (Why are those little crappers so cute behind bars?)
















11. More eating out. Hear that homes probably will have major smoke damage (yet to be assessed). 


12. Read.  Hang with family.  Water fights.  Susanna claims the water bazooka.  While dressed up in 1970's disco jacket and Daniel Boone hat demonstrating her father's keen fashion sense.  (They say jeans go with everything!)


 
















13. Children behave themselves, knowing that they might get to stay up until 10:30 again.


14.  They do.  Parents crashing.


15.  Day three: Everyone crashing.  Evac over, children psychotic.  Mom tired.  Dad trying to do Church calling from 15 miles away.  Return home.


16.  Children call it a fun "vacation".  


Maybe you were not wrong after all, best worst-caused vacation ever?

Independent

For father's day, Tim decided to make me a gift without consulting Melissa.  

I received a coupon book I could redeem "any day but Sunday."

Here are some of the coupons included in this prized gift:

One free movie at the theater with just you and me, like Batman, or Avengers again.

One free dad-son date anytime, like to go bowling.

One free trip to somewhere like an arcade.

One free trip out to Olive Garden without Maggie, Ami, and Susanna.

One free backrub.

One free trip to a cool place like Real Salt Lake for a Real Salt Lake soccer game.

One free camping trip without any girls.  

I sensed a pattern.  When Melissa pulled herself off the ground she pointed out the awesomeness of how those things were all "free" to Tim.

Priorities

I was showing Tim how to approach a level in the game "Plants vs. Zombie" this morning, when Susanna walked in with the sunblock.  She popped the lid and squeezed, shooting lotion all over her arms.  I dropped the kindle exclaiming, "Tim!  Help! Susanna got the sunblock."

I dove for her before she could start spreading it all over the carpet, expecting Tim to go for the bottle.  A couple seconds later, I looked at the bottle, on the ground leaking, and asked, "Tim, didn't you hear me ask for some help with Susanna?"

"I know Dad," he exclaimed, "I'm doing my best."

I turned around to find him playing the level for me with all the intensity he could muster.

Priorities.

The Ambassador of Smooth

So a friend of mine took me to a new store in our local mall: "The Art of Shaving".  He went to their store a few years ago in Vegas, it changed his life.  Strangely, it changed mine.  I learned how to shave 17 years late.

I always shaved by washing my face, applying some shaving cream or edge gel, and then ending with a spritz of cologne or cold water.  This continually resulted in shaving rash on the neck, the occasional ingrown hair, and the regular tugs and pulls.  




At the store, I learned that a proper and comfortable shave involved four steps.  First, a coat of essential oil to provide protection to the skin.  The store sold lemon, sandalwood, lavender and a few others.  (How cool is it that Melissa started making her own essential oils this week - hello major savings!).  Second, shaving cream (which can also be made with coconut oil and glycerin) need to be applied with a brush to exfoliate the skin and raise the whiskers off of the face.  Third, shave with the grain, then reapply cream, then against the grain.  Finally, apply a non-alcoholic balm to heal the skin.

The difference is amazing.  Two weeks ago I would have thought that neck rash was part of being a man.  I now know there is an art to shaving.

I highly recommend this practice.  For some of you, I imagine this is old news and you may be shaking your head in disbelief at my ignorance, but if not, try this link:  Shave like a man.

Just in time for Father's day!

Go My Favorite Sports Team Go

Tim completed competition soccer try-outs this evening.  He was one of the youngest (if not the youngest) to try out for the highest level U-9 team available in the area.

One of the coaches approached me towards the end and informed me Tim would be making second squad (of 82 boys, being in the top 20 is not bad at all) or we could put him on a U-8 team and let them get used to playing together.

We were pleased he did so well.  Way to go Tim!

Freckles

After giving David a kiss good-night I overhead Ami tell Tim, "Ooo! Dad did not have any freckles tonight, I did not feel any pricks when I kissed his cheek!"

So, shave and your freckles go away.

Non-sequitur

We are happily employed.

We have sufficient for our needs and wants.

We are not planning on moving unless offered a position out-of-state with our current employer (unless a high-paying cheese-tasting job opens up somewhere).

We enjoy spending time together as a family more than about anything else.

Gas is expensive.

PhD programs are psychotic endeavors in masochism.

So why are we starting a PhD from Utah State's Theories and Practices of Professional Communication department?

Because.

No really, why?

Because.

Go Aggies.

 

Prayers and pain began in August.