Scents and Sensibility

It is a scientifically proven fact that our sense of smell is a powerful trigger for latent memories. One day last week, my morning run took me past a recently harvested potato field. The scent of freshly turned soil instantly transported me back to a white two-story home on Albany Avenue, where I was once again a seven-year-old girl with smiling eyes, playing in the yard. I remember those days with vivid clarity. It seems the only things I needed to be happy were my imagination and a partner to share the adventure. Most often, this was my younger sister, Deaun. We would spend hours creating our own world from sticks, rocks, and dirt, building tiny cities for the people we had fashioned from bundles of long summer grass. I'm sure we could have chosen a more sensible--and cleaner--way to spend our time, but when you're a kid, being sensible is not a priority.

I have to wonder--does the acquisition of sensibility necessarily have to displace the innocent joy of childhood? When we become adults, are we required to relinquish our carefree spirits as well? If you look at the faces of people waiting in line at the grocery store, the answer would seem to be a resounding YES! But, I believe this is contrary to the teachings of the Savior. Aren't we admonished to "become as little children?" President Thomas S. Monson has encouraged us to "find joy in the journey." Yes, life is difficult, at best. Much of what happens is beyond our control. Many of us have experienced trials that, if given the option ahead of time, we would not choose. But these same trials are often the source of our greatest personal growth. And we can bear them when we understand that we never have to carry our burden alone. We can learn to smile, in spite of our tears. If we make a conscious effort to find something to be joyful about on a daily basis, it will begin to show in our countenance. I am determined to take the prophet's advice. And perhaps, the next time you see me, you'll also see the seven-year-old with the smiling eyes looking back at you.

I'm going to bed, so choose your own title!

Yesterday, I went to the Children's/Young Adult Literature Conference at BYU-I with my friend Kareena--who, by the way, is 9 months pregnant. Every time she made a noise, I found myself looking over the make sure she wasn't going into labor. Good times! Actually, it was a great conference. Lois Lowry, two-time Newbery Award winning author of the Giver, among other books, was one of the keynote speakers. She was very entertaining. After the conference, I had her sign a couple of books for me. I mentioned that I would be writing a paper on examining grief through literature and asked if she'd mind me contacting her if I had any questions (I plan to reference several of her books in my paper). She was gracious enough to give me her business card with her email address and phone number on it.

Parker had one of those all-day dates leading up to the Homecoming Dance, so he wasn't around for most of the day. This left Hayden, Cameron and Jacob to fend for themselves; I was gone from 8 a.m. until nearly 5 p.m. Before I left, I made a bargain with the boys: if they promised to not kill each other, or damage the house in any way, I would take them to see the Disney movie G-Force later that evening--a promise I would come to regret. Don't get me wrong: it served its purpose as a powerful motivator for civil behavior--only one phone call the entire time I was gone, and then only to ask what time I'd be home. The flaw in my plan was the movie choice.

G-Force is about a crack team of highly-trained Special Ops FBI agents who happen to be...guinea pigs. Yup, you read that correctly. And not ordinary guinea pigs--guinea pigs capable of conversing with humans and operating sophisticated electronic equipment.


I'm as willing as the next guy to suspend disbelief when it comes to kid's films, but the dialogue was an endless stream of poorly-crafted one-liners, with little else to redeem it from contention as possibly the worst film of 2009. Simply put, it was painful. Fortunately, I fell asleep, missing a large chunk of the movie. The boys, on the other hand, loved it. Cameron asked if I would buy it when it comes out on DVD. I smiled and said nope. So he and Hayden are planning to pool their resources to make the purchase. Maybe [read hopefully] they'll change their minds.

Parker took this picture for his photography class. I think he did a great job.

Two

Saturday was a day of twos. We traveled two hundred miles in two states(alright, so it was really 199, but I'm going for a theme here, so work with me), saw two people from our ward in a totally unexpected place, rode ski lifts at two different resorts, and drove the Teton Pass two times, all of which added up to a bit too much togetherness for a bunch of boys who are growing too big to ride comfortably in Mom's too-small car.

["He's touching me!"]

The day trip from, er...home began as a simple trip to Grand Targhee to buy our passes for the coming ski season.

[audible cheering from the snowboard crowd]

It evolved into a gigantic loop through Jackson Hole and Swan Valley before eventually making it back to Rexburg. Sunday was Parker's eighteenth birthday--I know, I can hardly believe it either!



So this trek was kind of his party. We went to the places and did the things he wanted to do.

After we bought our passes at Targhee, we rode Dreamcatcher lift so Parker could take some pictures for his photography class. I'm just glad I had enough sense to grab a jacket; it was windy and cold!



I spent a grand total of five minutes at the top before riding the lift back down to the lodge with Cameron and Jacob--this time, armed with an enormous comforter provided by the lift operator for temperature-challenged people like me.

When Parker and Hayden came down the hill, we piled back into the car and drove over to Jackson Hole. We went to Snow King Resort, where we rode the alpine slide.



As I sped down the hill on a tiny sled, hoards of parka-wearing, cowbell-ringing fans cheered me on as I crossed the finish line in record time, taking the gold medal. Oh wait, that was someone else. Never mind. It was fun, though. We stopped at Pearl Street Bagels and loaded up on bagels and cream cheese--yum! If you've never tried them, you should. They have two locations in the Jackson Hole area to serve you, one in town and another in Wilson (they ought to give me free bagels for the free publicity I just provided, don't you think? Feel free to email them with that thought).

Then it was back over the Teton Pass, through Victor, and over the hill for square ice cream cones, a Swan Valley tradition. Believe it or not, that was my first time! The older boys have all been treated to the geometric delight several times; I don't know how I missed out. I guess you had to work with Paul somewhere in Swan Valley to rate the privilege, something I never did. It was there that we saw Gerald and Bryce Stucki; they were camping nearby. After we ate our cones--which, technically, were dinner--we headed home. The driveway never looked so good (well, probably after our trip to Nauvoo it looked better, but you get the picture).

In spite of all the complaints and close quarters, it was a good day. Parker proclaimed it his best birthday party ever. He's grown up a lot in the past two years because of the trials we've been through. I continue to be amazed by the things he's accomplished and the person he's becoming. He must get it from his dad. :o)