{Growth}
Lichen growing on red sandstone in Canyonlands National Park.
Next week’s assignment for Friday, May 11: Yellow
52 Pics Photo Challenge:
I have started my own weekly photography assignment with photo-posts every Friday. For previous posts click here, or you can download the challenge here. If you are participating, upload your photos to our Flickr group, and/or leave a link in the comments!
The weather was supposed to be rainy and mucky, so I prepared with some extra-cute rainboots. I was half ecstatic that the skies were clear and sunny and rainboots were not required, and I was half sad that I didn’t have a really good excuse to wear them for longer. Ah well, the satiny orange shoes were a very satisfactory compromise.
Geronimo Balloons made by the fantastic and lovely Jihan. I met Jihan several years ago in Seattle through Isabel, and now she has completely reinvented herself as the Balloon Trooper of Los Angeles (and also, the greater United States) with publicity up the wazoo. I love that she made these balloons special for our big day.
Our rings. Here we are, almost 6 months after J-Mo proposed, and everytime I glance down at my left hand I remember the incredibly sweet things he said when he proposed.
My bouquet. I have always loved flowers that do not dry well, dead flowers hanging around serving as memories always have creeped me out a bit. Orchids, tulips, and a half-dozen other things that I probably will never know the name of.
I know, you’ve seen the shoes a dozen times. Um, I don’t really care. I love them.
At the ceremony.
Fruit snack bribery for all the little boys and girls to make it down the aisle without freaking out, and to be quiet during the ceremony.
The ring-bearer and flower girl. My good friend, Uzi, and her sister did all the flowers, including my bouquet and this fantastic orange pompadour ball.
All the groomsmen and bridesmaids. So cute.
I totally made this, which held our rings during the ceremony. This is proof that I know my way around a hot glue gun and a bag of moss…don’t expect a repeat. Ever.
All seven of the pint-sized groomsmen had these indestructible button-ieres. (Ha! A pun!) This was one of two crafty things I did for our wedding, the other involves ribbons. I tell you, my sister and I went crazy! (Please note sarcasm, I am not a DIY-er.)
Why yes, that is a tiny Harley Davidson on J-Mo’s boutonniere. Thank you, Hallmark Miniature Ornaments from 1990-something, and thank you, eBay.
After the ceremony, and all the hugging of friends, and chatting with loved ones, and a fantastic Mexican dinner with Tres Leches cake…after all that, it was just J-Mo and I. Basically, it is perfect.
All photos by Stacy by Three Winks Studio.
Filed under: National Parks, Photography, There and Back Again, Utah: Life Elevated
Over the weekend J-Mo and I headed South to sunnier weather and a whole lot of nature. I have been to the Moab area several times in the last few years, spending time in Arches National Park and several evenings at Dead Horse Point. I’m not sure why Canyonlands National Park never was on my radar, but I after visiting these last few days I am shocked and appalled that I had not made it a priority sooner. After setting up camp and making some delicious tin foil dinners, we headed into the park for some sunset viewing.
It’s basically like a smaller, less crowded, closer-to-me version of the Grand Canyon. Dozens of finger-canyons are carved out of the plateau and there are layers upon layers of sheer cliffs, buttes, and strange, majestic rock formations.
I was slack-jawed at these views. I mean, I knew Utah had some gorgeous red rock, but I had no idea we had this.
Under optimal weather conditions, Canyonlands has some of the clearest air in the mountain west, however when the wind blows pollution from Las Vegas, Phoenix, Denver and Salt Lake into the canyons it hangs over the cliffs in a dusty haze until a strong enough wind blows it back out.
The next morning we took a slight detour down a very steep and somewhat treacherous Mineral Road/Horsethief Trail. This road winds down the steep canyon walls to the Green River below. There were a lot of mountain bikers, several trucks and SUV’s, and we managed to catch the tail end of someone base jumping–with parachute–off the bluff.
J-Mo and I meandered along the river for a while, stopping to take pictures (me) and try and gauge where, exactly, we were heading (him).
Just around this curve is an unofficial entrance to Canyonlands. The thing is, it is a 100+ mile look on rough road to get to a place where you can crawl back up to the plateau. We opted to backtrack and were soon enough back on the rim of the canyon and heading towards the entrance station.
This is across the street from the Island in the Sky Visitor Center. The views are just incredible, I seriously cannot believe no one sat me down years ago and regaled me of awesome stories of Canyonlands. So, I am telling you now. GO THERE! Yes, Arches is awesome, Moab is fab, Dead Horse Point is a must-see…and Canyonlands, at a whopping 4 miles down the road from Dead Horse, should absolutely be on your list of destinations in red rock country.
Mesa Arch is one of the few arch formations in the park, it’s a quick little walk from the road and has an incredible view through it’s opening.
Gorgeous. Amazing. Breathtaking. Please, go to Canyonlands if you have the chance. You won’t regret it.
After a day of wandering around, driving around, hiking around, and generally staying in the north end of the park, we decided to head to our next camp spot in Moab. As we were leaving the park, I asked J-Mo if we could go check out Gooseneck Overlook. Looking at the map, it seemed to be somewhat opposite the view seen from Dead Horse Point. I warned him that we would need to traverse an unpaved 4-wheel-drive road. He laughed and rolled his eyes, he eats unpaved 4-wheel-drive roads for breakfast. I was perfectly trusting in his driving skillz…until we came across this:
That, my friends, is Shafer Trail Road, well, at least the top half of it. The trail-road is only about a car and a half wide with a sheer cliff stretching upwards on one side, and a sheer drop-off on the other. There is no passing, there was oncoming traffic (not much, but still), it is careful, careful business with a lot of hairpin turns, sketchy edges, and white knuckles for me for almost an hour. The road, let me show you it:
This is basically the Going-to-the-Sun road…but with red rocks instead of granite peaks and pine trees…and it’s not paved…or maintained…and only the very ballsy drivers and badass mountain bikers attempt it. You zig and zag down that very steep, sheer slab of red rock for 1,700 vertical feet. And then you still have another couple of miles before you get to Gooseneck Bend Overlook. If you can survive the zig-zags without passing out, you are in luck, because the view is absolutely worth it.
After taking another dozen (okay, hundred) photos, you need to decide if you are going to continue on the rough, rutted road to Moab, or if you are going to climb back up the plateau to the paved road back to Moab. It depends on how your nerves are doing, I guess, and how much adventure you seek.
(Yes, the Visitors Center is right up on top of that cliff. Go on, I double-dog dare you to crawl back up those switchbacks.)
For more pictures, see my Flickr set here.
{Candy}
Sour patch kids, the only candy that I regularly eat, therefore making it the candy of the Gods.
Next week’s assignment for Friday, May 4: Growwth
52 Pics Photo Challenge:
I have started my own weekly photography assignment with photo-posts every Friday. For previous posts click here, or you can download the challenge here. If you are participating, upload your photos to our Flickr group, and/or leave a link in the comments!
These are some of our couple’s pictures. I didn’t bother with bridals (remember, non-traditional), but I really wanted some professional, fabulous shots of J-Mo and I. Our photographer, Stacy from Three Winks Studio came through with flying (emerald and orange) colors! I love these shots!
I cannot tell you how many different places I looked for bright orange shoes. If I cannot find orange heels, you know they are not to be found. About a week before the ceremony I was running out of ideas and someone suggested dyable shoes…yes, like the shoes you got for Prom. I shuddered a bit, but decided to take a look at the different styles anyway, hoping for some updated, modern styles. These peep-toes caught my eye immediately, but I didn’t want to try my hand at dying them. Too much fear, not enough trust, no time to fix even the smallest mistake. A bridal shop near my office has a dying service for $12.00, so I happily had them transform these lovelies to bright orange.
My lovely friend, Jihan, is the mastermind behind Geronimo Balloons and I knew I wanted two of her enormous, fancy, frilly balloons to parade around with for pictures. She did an absolutely fantastic job, I loved these bright, gargantuan pops of color!!
Lookit! I’m a balloon girl! Not quite like a Geromino Balloon Trooper (I’d need about a dozen more balloons for that job), but kind of impressive all the same.
Yep, that happened.
I love this.
We finally have wedding photos back, and I have spent several hours scrolling through all 1,600 of them. Yes, that’s right, 1,600. Stacy from Three Winks Studio did a fantastic job and I absolutely love these images. Don’t worry, I’m not including all sixteen-hundred here, just a small selection of my favorites. This will probably be two or three posts, so I hope you can hang in there for the next week or so.
The Ceremony
The White Memorial Chapel is one of the oldest buildings in Salt Lake and only holds about 100 people. It was not packed, but with only a few exceptions, everyone who mattered was there.
My Dad, Lurch, acted as officiant at the ceremony. This meant much more to me than him walking me down the aisle. I’m not all that traditional, as this post will quickly show. No processional, no white dress, no veil, no bridesmaids–well, not exactly–and no reception. For J-Mo and I, it was perfect.
Two of my tiny bridesmaids, there were seven in total, ranging in age from 3 months to 8 years old. My sister, Pink Suede Shoe, made all those little dresses with the emerald green sashes. They were absolutely perfect.
The pint-sized groomsmen, and my oldest niece. We also had seven groomsmen, increasing in height in near perfect intervals from the three year old to my tallest nephew.
The dress, I am still completely in-love with it.
Yep, that’s a leopard-print belt. Told you I wasn’t traditional.
You knew this picture was coming, right?
My best friend, Josh, did a reading of this poem. I laughed, I cried, it was perfect.
J-Mo and I wrote our own vows, I am a little hesitant to share them here as they are so very personal. We promised to love, support and cherish each other for the rest of forever, the end. (In actuality, it was a lot more than that, it was lovely, we both had tears (and I’m told so did half the audience)…although, I don’t think I’m supposed to tell you that. Sorry, babe. Tears at your own wedding is super manly, pinky promise.)
I can’t get enough of that face.
Lurch said some more, lovely things here. Again, far too personal for the internet at large, but rest assured they were lovely.
J-Mo, you may kiss your bride. And just like that, two became one, bigger and greater than the sum of our parts.
It’s that time of year again, it’s time to start planning adventures. I mean, I always like planning adventures, but as the days warm and as spring hints at the summer stretching out before us, it is time to get serious.
I have a list of places to see and things to do and I can’t want to spend some adventuring time with J-Mo. Some of our plans will be close to home, some will be not too far away, and some will be incredibly far away.
In about a month J-Mo and I are going on our honeymoon, Part 2. Part 1 happened right after we got married, but was more like an extended weekend than a real honeymoon. We both had to get back to work (and yes, I know that sounds lame, but Parts 2 and 3 will TOTALLY make up for it). Part 2 is five days in New York City! J-Mo hasn’t ever spent any real time in a big city like NYC and I am so excited to show it off a bit. We don’t have many things set in stone, so if you’ve got some suggestions for Manhattan or Brooklyn, send ‘em over!
(Honeymoon 3.0 will take place this fall and will officially be farther than either of us have ever traveled from home. As the plans get firmed up a bit I’ll be sure to be gushing about them here.)
I have a list of projects; some are already begun and need a little finishing, some need to be started, and a good pile of them should probably be tossed back to the Project Place in the Sky (thrift store) because I will never, ever, get to sanding off that entire dresser and repainting it. Ditto on completely re-tailoring that dress…it’s better just to cut my losses and find something a little more manageable in the Project department.
I signed up for some photography classes, real ones, from a photography teacher. A local camera shop has lots of different courses for various levels and interests and I signed up for a slew of them. I really hope I can get a better feel for the manual settings on my camera and learn more about photography. Not in the “I’m starting my own faux-tography business!” kind of way, but in the “yes, I took that photo that is hanging on my wall, I’m so glad you like it!” kind of way.
I purchased my first ever sleeping bag–it is like taking a nap in a big, fluffy, purple cloud–and J-Mo and I already have plans to test it out, you know, in the wild. And by “the wild” I mean “National Park.” Now that it’s warming up and thawing out, J-Mo and I are making plans to head back to Red Rock Country to visit Canyonlands National Park. I can’t wait! Of course, I will clutter up your feed reader with lots and lots of pictures, you should look forward to that.
I’ve made a list of dozens of mini-adventures for J-Mo and I to attempt, things as simple as making kites and hoping they will fly, or trying a new restaurant, or going on a nature walk in the canyon. Some are considerably more complex and require a bit of planning and/or chutzpah, like taking a cooking class together, or going on a spontaneous weekend getaway, or going skydiving.
What kinds of adventures do you have coming up? Does warmer weather make your adventuring spirit itch? Or is that just seasonal allergies? (Do NOT get me started on seasonal allergies. I am currently drugged up on a steamy cocktail of antihistamine in order to breathe and am subsequently guzzling Dr. Pepper to try and stay awake as work. It’s a vicious cycle. Let’s hope this beautiful, blooming, pollen-infested spring quickly makes way for something a little less, well, sneezy.
{Unusual Perspective}
Eagle Gate is one of the landmarks of downtown Salt Lake City, it was erected by Brigham Young on the south-east corner of Temple Square and spans State Street. The most common view of Eagle Gate is this one, framing the capitol building to the north. Click to biggify.
Next week’s assignment for Friday, April 27: Candy
52 Pics Photo Challenge:
I have started my own weekly photography assignment with photo-posts every Friday. For previous posts click here, or you can download the challenge here. If you are participating, upload your photos to our Flickr group, and/or leave a link in the comments!
Yesterday morning I went to another funeral, my fifth for 2012.
I was pretty young, maybe five or six years old, when Larry married Sue, the wonderful single mom who lived across the street from us. He brought with him a lot of laughter, a speed boat, a huge semi truck (he was a transportation specialist for a large, locally based non-profit, hauling all sorts of things all over the country) and four boys in their teens and early twenties. Larry’s caring personality was infectious, he brought the house across the street to life; it quickly changed from a sad, cold, struggling place to one full of laughter, warmth and happy kids.
Yesterday, I listened to Larry’s children paint a familiar story of this kind, generous man who had a heart large enough to envelop everyone in his path; it seemed he had the same charming effect on everyone he met. His daughter said that Larry lived his life based on two criteria. 1) Do you need to be helped? 2) Do you need to be loved? Larry was all about serving and loving others; his family, friends, neighbors, and strangers. When I met Larry I was a little girl who desperately needed to be loved. I truly felt like Sue and Larry half-adopted me into their brood, Larry’s sons teased me as if I was their younger sister and, looking back, I cherish the memories of playing soccer and night games with them (and a gaggle of other neighborhood kids) in their large back yard. For several years I would skip across the street on Saturday morning to help Sue and Larry brush and re-shoe their half-dozen horses. As payment for getting in their way my labors, they would take me on a horse ride with them through the orchards and foothills around my hometown. These are some of the best memories of my childhood, riding horses on Saturday morning, sitting behind Sue, listening to Larry crack jokes as his sons laughed and joked right back. Despite the unfortunate circumstances, I was glad I had a chance to reconnect with Larry’s family. His sons are so much like their Dad it made my heart ache, and it was wonderful to meet their wives, see their half-grown children, and see Larry’s impish smile in their sad eyes.
For the last five years Larry has been volunteering his transportation skills with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, trucking their gear, instruments, and wardrobes from city to city and state to state, as they give concerts and tours around North America. A small group of Choir members (ok, about forty) sang several numbers at the funeral, my dad, Lurch, among them. For the last several years Lurch has been the Chief High Luggage Coordinator (a very official title) whenever the choir went on tour–a group that exceeds 500 people when you count the singers, the orchestra, the stage crew and tech crew, as well as the spouses who sometimes tag along–and I’m sure he worked with Larry quite often to get everyone their bags at each new tour stop.
The last few months, with the accompanying quintet of funerals, the mortality of humans has been moved to the forefront of my mind. At Larry’s funeral as I sat in the congregation I could see Lurch on the back row of the choir seats, as I listened to Larry’s sons pay a wonderful, emotion-filled tribute to their father I wondered how much longer I have with my own Dad. I wondered how I could possibly begin to write a talk to deliver at his funeral; what could I say to explain or describe the feelings I have about this new(ish) relationship with Lurch; is there even vocabulary to define how much unconditional love I feel from him; or for him; how on earth will I be able to control the emotion in my voice enough to be understood. Now, Lurch is healthy, active, and except for his silver-white hair is showing very few signs of age. He plays with his grandkids, travels often with his wife, rides his bike on local trails, and is a world class putterer (which is where I get my own puttering skillz)(puttering is in no way related to golf)(I stink at golf, mini or otherwise). But even so, I am not so naive to believe that he will live another hundred years, or even another fifty years. Twenty five, perhaps, but…anything can happen. I am absolutely not ready now, nor do I think losing a parent is something you can ever really “be ready” for. I know there are some situations where you may anticipate losing a parent, for example, if your Mom has cancer or is in otherwise poor health. Or if your Dad likes to SCUBA dive with starving sharks in Papua New Guinea…without a protective cage…in a suit made of raw steak. (Thankfully, as far as I am aware, Lurch has never been SCUBA diving and has no immediate plans to visit Papua New Guinea, so that grisly scenario is most likely out.) In the last few years my Dad has had a few, somewhat minor health issues–a bad case of the flu that put him in the hospital, kidney stones, and a rather scary moment of heat exhaustion and a pulled muscle after he tried to take on a dozen 6 and 7-year-olds in a rambunctious water fight–but… I just… I don’t… I can’t…
Losing Lurch would shatter my world. And today, for the first time in my life, I realized it.
I have realized, of late, that I have become a lot pickier. Without any conscious decision on my part, I have stopped spending my time on things that are less than awesome. Two months ago I deleted over 300 blogs from my feed reader. I don’t miss them. A few weeks ago I came across this article from the New York Times, the first paragraph was particularly poignant.
“A relatively new field, called interpersonal neurobiology, draws its vigor from one of the great discoveries of our era: that the brain is constantly rewiring itself based on daily life. In the end, what we pay the most attention to defines us. How you choose to spend the irreplaceable hours of your life literally transforms you.”
I’ve been thinking about this for a few weeks and I can’t get it out of my head. “How you choose to spend the irreplaceable hours of your life literally transforms you.” How do I spend my not-at-work hours? In what ways am I constantly rewiring my brain? Who do I want to be? And how do I become that girl? Hint: I probably won’t become heidikins The Awesome by watching an entire season of the latest criminal drama starring Sarah Michelle Gellar while eating Ben & Jerry’s by the pint lounging on the squishy couch…night after night after night.
I deleted a half-dozen shows from my DVR, although, I still watch Gossip Girl. I can’t seem to get away from the trashy, soap opera-y, designer-heeled episodes. Sigh. (The trash on Gossip Girl is the same reason I don’t watch Mad Men and am bugged by those who say they just watch it for the fashion and not the drama…hmmm…something to consider, Self.)
I have been reading more, but the books I choose are of a higher caliber than those I have previously picked up. I am reading more books I rank as 5 stars and fewer I rank as 2 or 3. I am reading more non-fiction, more Pulitzer winners, and more memoirs and biographies of people I admire. I read less fluff. Don’t get me wrong, I still read fluffy books, but I find they do not offer me much respite anymore, I find I am more critical of the poor writing and loosey-goosey plot points with a cute, tidy ending.
After watching a couple of “comedy” hits I have become terribly disillusioned with Hollywood; or, rather, completely disgusted by and blatantly opposed to it’s output. Since when was crassness and crudeness and the degradation of women in scene after scene after disgusting scene passed off as “comedy.” It is vile. Honestly, I was so revolted by these two particular films that upon discovering they are listed amongst your favorites, my opinion of you will probably change. What if those female characters were you, or your sister, or your daughter, or your best friend. Is it still funny? It shouldn’t be, because unfortunately, there are a lot of women who deal with sexual harassment, degradation, emotional, physical, and sexual abuse on a daily basis. You laughing at it doesn’t help, you supporting that type of media only makes studios produce more of it’s kind.
That old adage, “quality over quantity” always seemed to refer to cashmere sweaters instead of polyester-fluff ones, or buying well-made shoes you can wear for years instead of cheap ones that make your feet stink after a few weeks. Although, of late, I think there is more to it than that. It means carefully screening the media you allow into your life. It means eating real food and not crap, even if it takes more time to make yourself a salad instead of grab some greasy take-out. It means only allowing the healthy relationships to take up your time and your life and letting the soul-sucking, faith destroying, toxic ones fall by the wayside. It means slowing consumerism and materialism, it means having more discipline, and conditioning yourself not to respond to the instant gratification culture in which we live. It means being more conscientious about choices that involve your time, your money, your energy, and emotional being. It means choosing how to spend the irreplaceable hours of your life so that you are rewiring yourself to become a better, healthier, more satisfying version of yourself instead of slowly transforming into a human slug.* I am not saying that I am perfect in this, or that I always make the non-slug-like choices. Sometimes, I sit on the couch and watch TV for hours before I even realize it, and I’ll watch it with commercials. Sometimes, I listen to gossipy trolls talk badly about people and generally be catty and miserable, and I’ll let it get to me instead of shutting down the conversation, or excusing myself from the friendship. But that doesn’t mean that I am not trying; I am more conscious of my choices and am working to become a better heidikins.
*You saw Wall-E, you know how this will end. And, if you recall, humans do not become the cute little robot with a healthy dose of curiosity; we end up as immobile couch/motorized armchair potatoes with Big Gulps.
