Days four, five, and six make one cloudy day.

It is official. I am a slacker. I haven't posted anything for a few days, and I am supposed to be writing about what I am grateful for every day. I seem to be suffering from a brain cloud. Those of you who have seen "Joe vs. The Volcano" would understand this. A brain cloud is a fictional ailment that would cause one to sacrifice himself/herself to the volcano gods because they are too clueless to know they really don't have a problem. It's all in his/her head. Does that help you understand my predicament? Maybe it's just because I am too lazy to take the effort to write. Personally, I am voting for the brain cloud.

Today, I am thankful for lotion. Don't you just hate that sandpaper feeling that your skin gets? There is something about feeling like your hands will crack if you bend your fingers that I just don't like. I am a lotion snob. There, I said it. That is the first step, admitting you have a problem. Now it is out, and I can't take it back. You know, I feel as if a huge burden has lifted. No ordinary lotion will do for me, unless I am desperate, of course. It can't have too strong of a scent, it can't be too greasy, and it can't have very much mineral oil in it. It makes my eyes itch. Seriously, I am allergic to mineral oil. Don't believe me? Pass me your closest bottle of lotion, wait five minutes, and I will be scratching my eyes out. Or maybe it's just a brain cloud.

I am also thankful for guitar teachers. Doug and I have started taking guitar lessons from a 22 year old prodigy named David. David can make me feel untalented in 3 seconds flat. Not that he does it on purpose. At the beginning of every lesson, we have "show and tell" time. Also known as "The Throw Down". This is my turn to attempt to impress him with the prodigious skill I have aquired within the last week, or lack thereof. Emphasis on the last part of that sentence. As soon as I walk in, I have performance anxiety. (The guitar kind.) The moment I sit down, my fingers become unattached from my brain. They begin to rebel and resist the direction they are given. By the end of the lesson, I am sufficiently humbled, and wonder what would have possibly posessed me to think that I would be good at this, or at least enjoy it? Within a few days, I start to think success may actually be possible, only to return to class, and feel like a complete idiot once again. I don't seem to be making much progress. Maybe I should actually practice. Maybe it is another brain cloud.

The smell of gingerbread is the most comforting, yummy smell that could ever come out of my oven. This weekend, after the "Thanksgiving - stuff  yourself until you think you will literally explode and die" celebration has passed, the women on the Burrell side are coming over for the annual gingerbread house construction project. (Pictures coming the following week.) We did this last year, and it was so enjoyable that, apparently, it is a tradition now. That has to be a record. Our second year, and already a mandatory part of the holidays. I have to admit, I love gingerbread houses. I love to look at them, build them, and smell them. If you have never had the experience of a real gingerbread house sitting on a table, and every time you walk by, or when the furnace starts up, there is the warm, spicy scent of gingerbread, you are seriously missing out.

I know that in most homes, the candy on the house doesn't last long. In my house, it tends to last a bit longer because there are only three of us. My favorite part is actually the gingerbread, itself. I can't wait to get rid of the candy so I can break off a piece of crispy cookie to savor. It is the only crispy cookie I have ever enjoyed. Normally, I prefer soft, chewy cookies. I'm not sure that would be a good material to build a house from. Talk about substandard materials. Although, I have built a few really adorable houses out of Pop-Tarts. They make great gifts, and there is no need for tedious baking. However, it just isn't the same without the yummy smell.

It has come to my attention that I am the only one that will take on the task of actually baking the houses. Who in their right mind would volunteer to do that much baking? I must be suffering from complications of a brain cloud again. If someone had volunteered to bake it for me, I would probably accept. It wouldn't be the same, though. Knowing that I made my house from start to finish makes it more fun. However, baking seven houses is quite a task. That is two days worth of baking, and a big mess in my kitchen. Molasses is sticky. Really sticky. Let me emphasize that- Molasses is an ooey-gooey substance that is worthy of sticking a road runner to the pavement. Wile E. Coyote should have used it. His cartoons would have been much more successful, and he would have finally had his own Thanksgiving.


I think he suffered from brain clouds, too.

Day three and all is well.

Today we picked up Doug from the airport. It is amazing to me that you can smell a country on someone. I know what China smells like, and it isn't that great. Thank heaven for washing machines and laundry soap. However, this got me thinking about our noses. I like mine. It has been with me all my life, and I have become quite attached to it. It is terrible when it is stuffed up, and I can't use it. It sometimes enjoys causing mischief by itching and making me sneeze. I think it feels ignored. I find at times I am irritated by it because when it has a problem, I am very irritable. Nothing worse than an itchy nose.

It has the ability to smell some pretty terrible things. Like broccoli gone bad in the fridge, or garbage that has been waiting for garbage day to come in the 100° heat for a week. Or when a diaper needs to be changed. Just when you think that you would prefer to have your nose surgically removed because of allergy problems, or having to clean out the fridge, something wonderful happens. Just a whiff of a pleasant smell can change your mind about being rhino-challenged. I feel so fortunate to be able to smell a freshly baked apple pie or cinnamon rolls. In honor of Thanksgiving, what about the delicious scent of a turkey in the oven? The smell of freshly baked bread from my bread machine in the morning when I wake up makes life worthwhile. I still remember Nanny, my Mom's mom. She passed away from cancer when I was quite young, but I can't smell Avon's Skin So Soft without having vivid memories of her.

Smells are such powerful things. They help us recall moments in our lives, or people we love, or places we have been.  I have missed the way Doug smells (the good smells) all week. When he comes home from a long trip, he isn't really home until he showers and puts on clean clothes. Somehow it just isn't right until he removes the smell of Asian cigarettes and air polution. Know what I mean? When he smells better, all is right with the world, because my man is home.

I am also grateful for eyelashes. As women, we curl them, paint them so they look darker and longer, and we can now use chemicals to lengthen them. It might change the color of your eyes, but who cares? You will have longer lashes. Someone even went as far as to create false lashes. You can buy them in strips, groups, singles, or in bright colors. You can have extensions done from a professional, or take the time to do it yourself. Just be careful not to glue your eyes shut. Hey, I've seen it happen, my friend. It isn't pretty.

Every day, I put on mascara. Unless I am deathly ill, of course. In which case, I don't answer the door. Heaven forbid that anyone should see me without my lashes done. My natural eyelashes are the color of my skin. When I don't dress them for the day, people think I am terribly ill. (Someday I may just take advantage of that.) Doug used to laugh and tell me I didn't have any eyes when I washed off my makeup. What am I, some alien freak? At least I am all set in case of invasion or abduction.

I have been thinking about this lately because of my neice. Last spring, she pulled out all her eyelashes and eyebrows. They were bugging her. I guess 3rd graders just don't care about those long and lovely lashes they are graciously given. It is shocking to see someone without eyebrows or eyelashes. Their faces are no longer framed, and they have a shocked expression, not just surprised. It is now almost Thanksgiving, and they are just starting to show some growth.

It's one thing if someone is going through chemotherapy, they lose all of their hair. Everything matches, and it is fine. But when they lose hair in just one location, it is bizarre. In my freshman year of high school, a kid shaved off his eyebrows. He won $20 for doing it. He said it wasn't worth it. Sometimes you are grateful for lessons other people have learned.

Today, I have also been thinking about hugs. When I was little, my Uncle Gene would try to corner me at every visit, and ask me where his kiss was. I'm sorry, but I never had a kiss for you. Don't even try it. You are an old man. You are not my parent, you are not my baby brother or sister, and I am too young to be engaged. Those are the only conditions that warrent a kiss from me. Keep your lips to yourself, thanks.

Hugs, on the other hand, are meant to be shared. I love them. They welcome someone into your space, and you can feel actual warmth from them. I decided when I was young, that hugs were the best. Today, I was able to hug my hubby after not seeing him for a week. I forget how much I like to hug him until I can't.

Years ago, when my sister, Darcy, was home for a visit, she said something that surprised me. "Amber, you give the world's best hugs. Nobody hugs like you." I was so surprised by that. Hugging Darcy was like hugging a fragile piece of porcelain. She became so thin, I was always worried that I might squeeze too hard and break one of her ribs. I wanted her to know I cared about her, and that she meant something to me. Hugging her was an opportunity to show her how happy I was to see her, and that she was an important part of my life. It never occurred to me that she liked it. I would love to be able to hug her again. I think the best hug ever will be the one I get to give her when I see her in her perfect body, healthy, happy, and strong.

If only Uncle Gene would have asked for a hug instead of a kiss.......

Day two.

Today, I am thankful for something. I'm sure of it. Do you ever have days that are so full of stuff you have to do, that it is hard for you to clear your mind to remember the important things? I am having one of those days. Or weeks. Or maybe years. It could be my whole life, but I am too mentally fatigued to remember. This might take some time........

I suppose the first item on my list today would have to be airplanes. Every time I see a plane overhead, I wonder what it a pioneer would do if they were suddenly transported in time, and saw how we traveled. Would they feel that they suffered coming over the plains for nothing? Really, they could have endured a while longer, and then chartered a plane to get everyone to where they needed to be. Of course, in this day and age, they would have had terrorists attacking the Mormons. That puts a whole new spin on things. On that same line, what about Christopher Columbus, or the pilgrims? Obviously, everything was meant to happen the way that it did. We learn so much from them, and I am forever grateful for the sacrifices they made. I can't imagine the difference it made in their own lives. I just have to wonder if it would have done serious mental damage to them to see that we can cross the country in a few hours, not to mention the other side of the world. Can you just see their brains exploding with the concept?

Really, the reason this comes up today is that, as I write, Doug is flying home to us from China. I always feel like the flight from China is so far. He left a few hours ago, and we will arrive to pick him up from the airport tomorrow at 1:00 in the afternoon. I always feel bad that he is in the air for so long, and then I remember that he could have done it by boat. His one week trip would have been infinitely longer. See you in a year, sweetie.

I am also thankful for movies. I know, what a corny thing to be grateful for. (Yes, I used the word corny. Deal with it.) Truly, I am a movie buff. I wish I had known as a child that I would have such a love of the silver screen. I would have paid more attention to what I was watching. As it is, I have wonderful memories of the movies I saw as a wee one. The first memory I have of seeing a movie is when my Grandpa Williams took us to see "Bambi" in the Preston theater. We got a flat tire on the way home. I am sure that he was irritated by that, but it became memorable to me. I still love that movie, and the music is very dear to my heart. ♪ ♫ Drip, drip, drop, little April showers..... beating a tune as you fall all around. ♫ ♪

I loved it when movies came on and our family made an event out of it. We would pop popcorn and gather around the television and anxiously await the beginning of "The Sound Of Music", or "The Ten Commandments", or our all time favorite, "Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory". We would marvel at the amounts of chocolate and candy at the beginning, and the edible room was a dream come true. What kid didn't dream of their own personal chocolate river? Or wallpaper where the snozzberries taste like snozzberries? Who didn't have the secret wish that their sister would be chewing a piece of gum, and she would blow up like a blueberry, only to be taken to the hospital to have the juice squeezed out of her? Oh, you didn't wish for that? Sorry, my mistake.

Somehow, owning movies on DVD and watching them whenever you want is just not the same. Although, I have tried to continue the tradition with my daughter. We put on our pj's, and pick out a special movie. We cuddle together under blankets with our fuzzy Elmo socks sticking out the bottom of the blanket. That is a special time to us.

I have also been known to use movies to change my mood. When I am working on a wedding cake, I love to watch "Father Of The Bride" movies, or "My Big, Fat, Greek Wedding". It just makes me happy, and the cakes are more fun. Lucky for the bride, they turn out better, too. Christmas just isn't Christmas without "A Christmas Story", or "Home Alone", or "The Santa Clause". (I happen to be a Christmas freak. Tell me you didn't see that coming.) On the flip side, beware when I am watching an action flick. I wouldn't sit too close to me, if I were you. I'm just sayin'.

Lastly, I love little girls. They are so gosh darn cute. I love how giggly they get, and how they get so excited over things. Oh, how I miss being able to get away with the shrieking and giggling of teenage life. Now, when I do that, people think I need medication. They could be right. I probably do, but my fatigued mind can't remember to go to the doc. Guess I am a terminal case.

And so it begins.

This year I have decided that I want to continue the week of Thanksgiving that I did last year. This year has given me so many opportunities to be grateful, and I want to take the time to voice my thanks.

I think I will start with the obvious, my wonderful husband. At the moment, he is in China attempting to achieve a few miracles. OK, maybe not miracles, but at least a few amazing feats of engineering brilliance. He left last week for South Korea to finalize a contract for an electrical device. (I would tell you what it is, but I would have to kill you after. As far as I know, this is an unmentionable.) He then headed to China for some other top secret items, that probably aren't so top secret anymore. I will someday take the time to explain these items, but today is not someday. It is today, and my subject is my hubby, not some piece of plastic and metal that will someday (hopefully) make us debt free. It's good to dream.

When he leaves on these trips, I worry so much about him. It unnerves me just a bit to send him to a communist country. If anything makes you appreciate your freedom, that'll do it. On one trip, Doug mentioned that a plane flew overhead, so he looked up. He was stunned to see a Russian MiG 29 flying low overhead. He turned to his translator, and commented on how excited he was to see that. His translator just shook his head and said, "No, no! We don't talk about that! We don't talk about military." They were surprised that he knew what it was. They had no idea. Now I will give a moment of pause for your memory to recall those scenes in "Top Gun". I know that you are now singing in your mind, "Highway to the Danger Zone". Admit it.



Which brings me to the next item. Freedom. I am so grateful for the freedom to get an education for whatever I may choose, for the freedom to log on to the internet and find whatever information I am interested in, and for the freedom to talk about our government and discuss the good with the bad. I am also thankful for those who defend that freedom. What an amazing military we have. There is just something about our men and women in uniform that gives me chills. I can't help but be impressed by them. It is so incredible that there are those who are willing to sacrifice their time with their families, and sometimes even their lives, so that we can enjoy the opportunity to live in a free country.

The next item on the list is a silly one, but in keeping with the theme of China, I am so grateful for soft, comfy beds. Seriously, don't you just love those mornings when you wake up, and your bed and pillow are so cuddly and pleasant, that you would just about give anything to stay there? Then the harsh reality of daily life kicks in, and you have to leave it all behind.

A-Haunting we will go!

After all these years, you think I would learn. Seriously, I should know better than to be stuck inside on a rainy Saturday afternoon with Doug. He gets bored very quickly, and then the trouble begins. The comment was made that it would be fun to make some ghosts for Halloween. "Cool! Sounds like fun, let's do it!" (That will be on my tombstone someday, I'm sure of it.) When I got a look at the pictures, I realized that he might just have some unresolved issues with me.....

I began to feel like there was a hidden agenda that day. Had I done something to irritate him? Me, the world's most perfect wife? What could I possibly have done to justify this? Well, I think I better not open that box. It belongs to Pandora.

I took another picture of Doug, and then my questions were answered. Doug's true identity was revealed. I have married the spawn of Satan. That sure explains a lot.If only I had taken this picture 20 years ago.....

Well, at least he is handy. He is great to have around when things go awry and need fixing. I used to think he just had exceptional skills, now I realize that part of his skill is from an extra set of hands.  I can't believe he was keeping that secret from me. How many times have I been involved in something and wished for an extra set? Where can I get a set of my own?

In my attempt to explain to Doug that I am an angel, and he should worship the ground I walk on, he came up with a brilliant idea. Why not take a picture to reveal MY true identity, too? Remind me to say "NO!" next time. I am now totally busted. At least I can claim to be an angel, even if I AM playing for the other side.

We decided an exorcism was in order; after all, we have an image to uphold. It seemed to work, but I just liked the lights. They were pretty. What can I say, I am entertained by small and simple things. Apparently, I am a cheap date.

After we were thoroughly cleansed of all evil, (in my dreams) I took another picture of Doug to see if it worked. Sure enough, he was my super hero again. Able to control the elements, and leap small footstools in a single bound.

My hero! We tried for a halo, but it didn't take. We did get a nice picture of his wings, however. I should have known that he had wings, as he is so addicted to flying.

Doug is also enthralled by the supernatural. He really wants to find evidence of ghosts, so we went ghost hunting. If you've never done that, you should. Lots of fun, but chasing them around a stool can be hazardous, so be careful. You want to make sure you don't break a nail, like I did. Stupid ghost.

We found that ghosts like to play "Ring Around The Roses", and "Here We Go 'Round The Mullberry Bush".

It wasn't long before we realized that our ghosts were just trying to make us dizzy and fall down. I have to say, it was pretty effective. There was plenty of dizzyness going on that evening.

We decided to check out Miriam. She is old enough that we thought maybe she was haunted, too. We were not quite as surprised with the results as we should have been. She is turning into a teenager in a couple of months, after all.

After realizing she had a direct connection to the mother ship, we performed another exorcism to disconnect her. I'm not sure how long it will last, but let's hope it will get us through the next 5 years, or so. Yeah, good luck with that, right?

Well, it seemed to work, if only temporarily. I guess we'll take what we can get. I'm just hoping that the moodiness subsides for a week or so. I could use a break. I found that Miriam has inherited her father's ability to manipulate the elements. Either that, or the mother ship is trying to reconnect. We'll keep checking, just in case.

Beware, all of you that have family members that are easily bored. You just might get more than you bargained for. Make sure you want to know what is really going on in the seedy underbelly of family life. Luckily, I have a great couple of people to live with, aside from the occasional attempt to bump me off. Halloween will be over soon, and we will all be back to normal, right? Right? Please tell me that we aren't always this twisted and creepy...

Jazz it up!

On October 1st, Doug called me from work and asked if I had anything planned that night. Nope, nothing. Some people have lives where asking that question would be logical. I, on the other hand, rarely have anything going on. That is because I need to get a life. However, on this occasion, it was a blessing. He had two tickets to the Jazz game, and wondered if I wanted to go. Well, DUH! What kind fo question is that? Of course I wanted to go.

Doug couldn't go with me, because he had a scuba class to teach that night. Some people have a life, and can't do things on the spur of the moment, like going to Jazz games. I love my life. Unlike the guy that has the job of cleaning up the sweat on the floor. Ick!

Doug's boss has season tickets, and couldn't go, so he gave them to Doug, who couldn't go, either. Priorities, people. Get some. They are 4th row tickets, and right behind a stairway, so you don't have to deal with all the pesky people in front of you. On the down side, it is right next to a seat reserved for the press, so a photographer was constantly coming and going. Still, great seats if you can get them. Yay, me.

This was Miriam's first Jazz game in the Delta Center. She absolutely loved it! She wanted to go to a game the next night, and the night after that, and the night after that....... I see a pattern developing. Miriam better start saving her allowance, or get a job to support her habit; I am not much of an enabler. 

The Jazz were playing the Denver Nuggets, and of course, we won. I'm sure it was because we were there, so they should give us season tickets. Maybe I am just looking for free tickets.

Miriam chased down a Jazz ball that was used in a game during the third and fourth quarter. A couple of people were trying to hit a target a few steps above us with a giant sling shot, and for each target they hit, they got $100. Miriam ran after a stray ball, and was thrilled about her souvenir. I would have been happier with the money.

After the game, they drop confetti. It falls from the top of the stadium, and is fun to watch for a 12 year old. However, all I could think about was the mess that would have to be cleaned up. That was my reality check. I am a 40 year old mom. I need a life.

It's Autumn time, it's Autumn time! The leaves are falling down.

These are pictures we took yesterday of our little family in between conference sessions. Ahhhhh, fall.

This one is my favorite. I love timers on cameras. Oh, yeah, I guess I should say I love my family, too.

Really, I do.

It's Autumn time, it's Autumn time, pretty colors all around.

My mom and dad went to Chicago, and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.

A few weeks ago, we were on our way to Flaming Gorge, when Doug's cell phone rang. It was his boss, and he needed to send Doug to Chicago to do a trade show. There was a discussion, then Doug hung up, turned to me, and said, "I have to do a trade show on the 19th through the 24th in Chicago. Dale asked if you would like to help me, I told him yes." Ummm, OK. Whatever. One thing I have learned from living with Doug, is that you have to go with the flow. I just had to learn everything I could about a product line I knew almost nothing about, and then be able to sell it to professionals in that field. No problem.

This is the view from our hotel window. I took this picture on Sunday, and I'm glad I did. The entire time we were there, it was cloudy and rainy. No wonder, with that monstrous Lake Michigan right down the street. See that blue line hidden behind the buildings? Look closely, that's it, in the very back. Beautiful, but big. I guess that's why it's called a great lake. Duh!

This is the view from our room on the 19th floor. The most entertaining thing to watch from our window happened to be the tour boats running up and down the river. I think they came by about every 45 seconds, and were usually full. Then there were the kayaks. Tons of them. I just can't say I would want to kayak in that river. It was filthy, I think I'd rather swim in Utah lake for a couple of days, thanks.

To the right side of our hotel was a better view of the city, if you don't count the roof top we had to look down on. See the tallest building that is black? It is the John Hancock building. We had so many people tell us we had to go there to get the best view of the city. Yes, the Willis Tower (used to be the Sears tower, name was changed this past summer), is still the tallest building in North America, but apparently, the best view is from the John Hancock building.

There is an observation floor that has a fantastic view, but I got the scoop from the guys a few booths down. Apparently, you need to go to the 95th floor (that's a restaurant, in case you were wondering) and enter the ladies room. Yes, I said the ladies room. I know what you are thinking, get your mind out of the gutter. Sheesh!

You see, there is a big picture window in there that has the greatest view in the city. The view is of the lake and the city of Chicago, obviously, but I guess the restaurant staff are constantly dragging the men out of the restroom, because their wives keep taking them in to see the view. (Out the window. Good grief, do I have to keep clarifying this for you?)

This is what we went to Chicago to sell. Tablecloths. I know, that has got to be the last thing in the world that Doug would be interested in, right? Doug is actually developing medical products at the moment, so who better to send to sell tablecloths to outdoor furniture companies, right? I know the next thought you are about to have: Isn't that why he took me? To have a girl there to sell the girly things? Wrong. Oh, so wrong. First of all, I own only one tablecloth. It gets used maybe 4 times a year, at best. Although, I have to admit, they have a cheetah print table cloth that I sorta liked. Still......

Grandway Honduras is the company that Doug works for, and they carry a line called "Windtamer". They make table cloths that have weights in them so they don't blow off the table. Sweet! That almost made me want one. Almost. After 4 days of giving the sales pitch, not so much.

As if tablecloths were strange enough, we had to sell these:

I know, right? The last time I owned a pair of kitchen gloves was in the early '90's, a few years after I got married. I think I used them to strip some furniture. Or maybe it was to grout some tile, I forget.

On the up side, we met some really fun people across from our booth. We were fortunate enough to be across from "Lechuza". They make the coolest planters EVER! Self watering, need I say more? We had a blast with them. There was much laughter at the amount of interest in our sassy kitchen gloves and tablecloths. None of us were so crazy about them, but holy cow! So many people just loved them. More power to them, I say.

We had so many members of the press stop by and ask questions because they wanted to write articles about our products. Ok, whatever. Insert sales pitch here. One woman, Diana Durkes, writes a blog about re-purposing things. She described herself as a diver lady, meaning "dumpster diver". She just started writing for the Chicago tribune and the Chicago Sun Times about her passion.

She flipped over our products, but specifically, Gloveables. She came by a few times for info, but came to take a picture of my hands in a pair of the gloves. Then, as I was goofing around with Susanne (the Lechuza lady), Diana took another picture. It was terrible, but she posted it, anyway. You can check out her Fine Diving in Chicago blog, if interested. FYI, Gloveables have even been used by Paula Deen, as well as on Desperate Housewives. Apparently, I am seriously out of fashion.

We did get a chance to take a few pictures of the city, but not much else. One bridge looks so much like the next; if you've seen one, you've seen them all, right?

Here I am on some street next to the river.......

And here is Doug at the same place, wherever that is......

We spent all day, every day, at our booth in the Merchant Mall. By the way, if you ever have a chance to go there, you should. I just love the design stores in there. We had to be there about 8:30 in the morning, and had to stay until it closed at 6 p.m. Then off to find a restaurant for dinner, and the evening is over. It got dark so soon after we were done, that we never even went anywhere fun. We were so tired, I think it was all we could do to get ourselves back from dinner, anyway.

One night, I woke up after sleeping about an hour, and felt wide awake. I went to the window and saw this:

That is the top of the John Hancock building, all lit up. It was beautiful in the fog, but in a very short time, you couldn't see it at all. The cloud base moved down to the top of the building on the right, (with the white lights) and the top of all the other buildings completely disappeared. Very cool to see in person, but not very photogenic. I moved to the other side of the window to photograph the other side of the city. Meanwhile, Doug slept peacefully for hours while I pace and take pictures. Some people are just so inconsiderate.

We spent 5 days in Chicago, and we didn't see anything that people go to Chicago to see.

Did we visit the shops and sites along the Magnificent Mile? Nope, no time. Did we see the Willis (Sears) Tower and the observation deck that is clear glass and places you directly above the street? Ah, no. Missed that. How about Millenium Park and the mirror art? Darn, missed that too. What about Wrigley Field? Didn't even lay an eye on it. Did we at least get to Navy Peir? Can't say we did. Thought about it, but not so appealing in the dark.

So, what did we do? We had pizza. Not just any pizza, the best pizza I have ever had in my life. Doug agreed. It was the only vegetarian pizza I have ever seen him agree to eat, and still enjoy. He liked it so much, we had to go back again for our last night. All hail, Lou Malnati. They will even ship it to you, if you are so inclined. I think I just might be.

Miriam went to stay with grandma for the weekend, and then her cousin came to stay with her during the week. She had a blast, and I'm not sure she even missed us. We only had time to find her a shirt while we were there, so when we came home, this is what she got:

Sorry, sweetie! Better luck next time?

Finally getting around to Labor Day.

Over Labor Day weekend, we went to Flaming Gorge with Ron, Sandy, and their son, Taylor. I know, I am really behind in my blogging, so hang tight, I have a lot to say about this trip. We had such a great time, and Taylor was a great model for most of my pictures. Personally, I think he liked it. Good thing he is very photogenic. And a good sport!

We spent most of the weekend in the boat. If it wasn't watersports, it was sight seeing or scubadiving. Mostly sight seeing. We went through Horseshoe Canyon several times. I must have taken a thousand pictures of the scenery. This is where I publicly admit that I love landscape photography. L-O-V-E it. I am addicted. Have been for years. I am beginning to think I need a 12 step program to deal with this problem, but thankfully, digital cameras can easily handle high volumes of needless photos that I will someday delete for more hard drive space on my computer. And before you give advice, yes, I do have external hard drive space. I just tend to fill things up quickly. I mean really, who needs 12 shots of the same sunset when you can have this:

Ok, Zeus, if you have to go, now is the time! And, of course, I took multiples of this, too, just in case one didn't turn out. You just can't miss an opportunity like this one.

On one of our tours, we took the opportunity to check out the bridge. Pay careful attention to the ominous clouds overhead. We didn't.

Here we are, hanging out underneath. We were able to watch a few people jumping into the water from underneath the bridge. Apparently, I am the only one that thought we were more interesting than the jumpers. And, yes, I have about 20 pictures of the bridge. Some are really cool, and I would post them if it was at all interesting to anyone but me. I just don't have that kind of time or space on my blog. Lucky for you! Pay attention to how dry and comfortable everyone is at this moment. It won't last long.

Remember those ominous clouds? Well, being the adventurers that we are, we were totally oblivious to the fact that it was getting darker and darker every minute. The clouds were moving in, and we were too busy enjoying the scenery. On the other side of the hill behind us in the picture above, is the dam. We drove over to check it out when the mother of all rain storms began.

First there was a clap of thunder, and just like in the movies, rain instantly began to pelt us in our tiny little boat. The fact that we were looking at a little island called "Gilligan's Island" started becoming a bit too realistic. Here we were, in our little boat, when the weather started getting rough; The tiny ship was tossed. If not for the courage of my handsome man, the Amber Waves would have been lost! Ok, maybe that was a bit dramatic, but it was plenty wet and wild on the lake at that point. This is what it looked like after the rain had stopped:

I wanted to get pictures of the rain pelting down on us, but unfortunately, my camera was not water proof. We huddled down under our tiny bimini top and prayed that we would somehow stay protected. Riiiggghhhhtttt. Wishful thinking. It's hard to stay out of the rain when it is coming at you sideways.

We hid under towels and jackets until Doug could drive us out of the rain. Then we took a minute to have a good laugh. We were completely soaked, not to mention the towels we had to wring out.

That being said, it was nothing to how wet Doug was. I felt so bad for him, we all hid while he drove, and I'm not even sure he could see. He had water streaming down his face, and pelting him right in the eyes. He grabbed his sunglasses at some point, but by the amount of water dripping from his eyebrows, I'm not sure it did him any good. I've always said he was my hero. Here's the thing that made me the most nervous: Doug put on a life jacket. (Pause for effect while this sinks in....) The man can hold his breath underwater for almost 3 minutes, and frequently has to save his scuba students, yet when I looked up after things calmed down, there it was. Even after all the rough water, THAT was the scariest part. I can't tell if that face is because he was having fun, or if he is just relieved.

While everyone went scubadiving, Miriam and I hung out in the boat. Miriam was playing in the water, and I saw a great opportunity to take pictures of the divers. We realized that the water was clear enough to see them as they explored the lake. I'm not sure who this is, but it was fun to watch them. You can see their bubbles, and then a yellow tank with black straps. When I took the picture, I wasn't sure you would see anything. Turns out, you can see more than I did when I took it. It's just too bad you can't see everything when it's this small.

On Saturday night, there was a city celebration happening on the lake. They decorate boats with lights, then drive them around the lake. After that, there are fireworks that you can watch while you sit at the water's edge. The coolest part was how they reflected on the water. I think I missed most of them because I was too busy with my camera. Like I said, I have a problem.

We spent that evening around a campfire. We had smore's, and laughed at old memories of childhood. We were with Doug's sister and her family, and her best friend's family, as well. It was such a great evening. I can't even find anything to make fun of. Maybe we didn't do it right.

There was so much fun on the cliffs. The kids had a blast jumping from them, and I just had to have a picture of them, but Miriam was a bit angry that I made her get out of the water to take a picture. She just refused to smile. Moms are so mean.

I also took way too many pictures of everyone jumping into the water. I had so many fun photos, but had to pick just one to post. So many pictures, so little space. Out of gratitude for Taylor posing for me, I chose to post my favorite of him. He has some serious hang time.

Then there is Doug. He drove the boat the entire weekend, saved us from becoming the remake of Gilligan's Island, pulled us around the lake on the tube, made water runs so we could take a shower every day, cooked dinner for me, played pirates with us, and was generally one cool dude. Oh, how I love my handsome man.

We had a great time with our family. These are the times that you realize how grateful you are for the incredible people you get to be around. The more I spend time with them, the more I love them. You would think that I would take more pictures of these people because they mean so much to me, but, alas, I can't get rid of the urge to photograph the world around me. Even in the dark.