Deception Pass and Tulips

On the way home from Vancouver, we made a quick detour to take in a few Washington sites. Our children (led by none other than Little Miss Super Sass AKA the Diva of Drama) were extremely disappointed that we weren't actually moving to Canada (where in the world did they get that idea?), or at the very least driving further north to Olympic venues. We promised they would be happy with what we had planned.


After all the precious passengers caught a few ZzzZzZs, morale was much improved--thank goodness. We drove to Deception Pass which connects the Puget Sound with the Strait of Juan de Fuca. I'd heard about it several times since moving here, but never ventured out there. While the enormity of it freaked me out a bit, the overall experience did not disappoint.

Just in case you want to know the history--I sure thought it was interesting.

We started out by hiking down from the small parking lot to the water. As always, the kids had fun throwing rocks in while Gavin demonstrated his awesome rock-skipping skills. We hiked back up to the top (mainly because Aubrey urgently needed to use the restroom--no surprise there), and crossed the bridge. This is the part that scared the bajeebers out of me.

Narrow bridge + 3 crazy kids + looooooong way to the bottom = one nervous mama.

It was a fun little side-trek, and definitely gorgeous. Good thing Washington offers such beautiful scenery, it almost redeems itself for the otherwise cruddy weather.

After making it safely back to the car (phew!!), we continued on to Skagit County and the Tulip Festival. We went there last year, so we made this an abbreviated trip. The tulip fields are phenomenal in full bloom, no matter how many times I see them.

Umm, apparently they missed the memo about not picking the flowers. I'm hopeful these were the ones already on the ground . . .

Truth be told, all I really wanted was to find this amazing road-side produce stand I'd heard so much about. And not for the produce, mind you. They are famous for their grapefruit-sized ice cream scoops on top of homemade waffle cones. Yeah, that sounds like my kind of gig (drool).

Unfortunately, they were closed before we could get there. Looks like I'll be going to the Tulip Festival again next year . . .

I Love to See the Temple

One of my favorite Primary songs has always been 'I Love to See the Temple.' I especially love the second verse. I remember many, many times going running by the Provo Temple in college or the Bountiful Temple near my parent's home. As it happened, running entirely around the temple was part of my route, and every time the words to the song came back to me:

I love to see the temple. I'm going there someday
To feel the Holy Spirit, to listen and to pray.
For the temple is a House of God, a place of love and beauty.
I'll prepare myself while I am young; this is my sacred duty.
I love to see the temple. I'll go inside someday.
I'll covenant with my Father, I'll promise to obey.
For the temple is a holy place where we are sealed together.
As a child of God, I've learned this truth: A family is forever.

I didn't have the chance to attend a temple open house when I was younger. The church wasn't building as many temples then, and we certainly never lived close to one. In college, my roommates and I drove to San Diego for the open house, and it was just as beautiful as I had always imagined.

With temple building going on in earnest the past several years, there have been more opportunities to visit various temples, and I definitely wanted my children to experience it for themselves.

In July 2008, I visited family in Utah and my mom drove back to Washington with me. Unbeknownst to us, the open house for the Twin Falls, Idaho temple was going on, and we drove right on by. Last summer, we barely missed the Oquirrh Mountain, Utah temple open house in August. So when I found out about the Vancouver, Canada temple open house in April, I made sure not to miss out again.

The kids were on Spring break, so that part was easy. We already has passports, so crossing the border was no big deal either. I found an awesome hotel for FREE*, and it included breakfast AND an indoor pool--our only hotel criteria. What's more, the pool had a two-story water slide. The kids were going to love it!

The only down side was that Gavin didn't have any leave time since we used it all up on our cruise. I could either wait for him to get off work and be stuck in Seattle traffic for hours and hours (time otherwise spent on the waterslide), or leave without him. I chose the latter, and since I'm a genius, I found a way for him to take a train and a bus and join us after work.

{Oh, yes I did. Before you think I'm a shmuck for putting my hard-working hubby on public transit while journeying across an international border, know this: he was thrilled to have the extra study time. That's my man!}

I've learned from experience not to tell my kids about an upcoming trip, however great or small. The main reason is because I don't want them to 'help' pack. It's also kind of fun to surprise them. So Friday morning was just like any other day off from school--we went to a storytelling sound-effects guy at the library, had the oil changed, and hit the open road.

The kids did great in the car. It was about a 2 1/2 hour drive, and we stopped midway for lunch. They were thrilled to be going to another country (!!!), and Aubrey insisted we take pictures at the border.

I know you just want to start belting out the Canadian national anthem. 'O, Canada!! Our home and native land . . . '

The jumbo-sized water slide did not disappoint. The freezing water in the pool, however, was a big disappointment. And, as luck would have it, the hot tub was closed. Bummer!! Even the native Canadians were cold, and they're practically polar bears. The kids still bucked up and swam and slid for a while, then enjoyed a nice hot bath in our room.

That little speck at the top of the slide is my Linc--it was big!

The kiddos in action--love those smiles!

I think their teeth had stopped chattering by this point.

As much fun as we had getting there and playing in the pool, we had clearly come for a purpose. Gavin rolled into town late Friday night, and Saturday morning we went to the temple.

It was so great. I love many aspects of my church, and one of them is how very organized and efficient things are. There were thousands of visitors at the temple, and many of them were not of our faith. Smiling volunteers were everywhere helping move people through and offering a pleasant and informative experience. People who came with no knowledge of the purpose of temples left with a greater understanding of what we hold so dear.

There was an older couple in our group, and we chatted with them a bit. They had grandkids our kids' age, and were not members of the church. Their church had organized a bus tour to visit the temple, but they couldn't make it, so they came on their own. They felt something special in the temple and commented on how beautiful it was. Before we left, the gentleman told Gavin that we ought to keep up our good work, because it was apparent to him that whatever we were doing with our kids was working. And in the end, it was family that mattered most. What a sweetheart.

After we returned home, I asked Aubrey and Lincoln what they liked most about the temple. Lincoln liked the 'quiet room,' and Aubrey liked the 'two mirrors so we could see our family going on forever.'

I would have to agree with both of them. The 'quiet room' offers peace and tranquility found nowhere else on earth. I'm so glad my sweet 5-year-old son felt that for himself. My darling 8-year-old often can't stand to sit at the dinner table with her family, yet her heart was full when she saw our images reflected in the mirror for as far as she could see.

The words to the song sum it up better than I ever could: 'For the temple is a holy place where we are sealed together. As a child of God, I've learned this truth: A family is forever.'

*Thank you, Uncle Sam, for paying Gavin's hotel while at AFIP and scoring us a bazillion rewards points. At least I got something out of the month that Gavin was living in the lap of luxury in Washington, DC. Humph.

Back in the Saddle

What in the world has happened to this poor blog? I am so dreadfully behind. It reminds me of the journal-writing days of my youth.

I was a freshman in high school when I started keeping a journal consistently. I remember clearly sitting in Mr. Gould's World History class and being bored out of my mind. I would wish for class to be over (I had his class in the morning), then wish for school to be out so I could be home.

Later that day, when I was home, I would remember back to being in class and realize the time had passed quickly. It scared me. I didn't want to feel like I was wishing my life away. I wanted to have a record of all that I experienced. And so it began.

I wrote daily for many years. Family members, girls camp tent mates, college roommates, and friends can all tell stories of me falling asleep while writing in my journal. It didn't matter how late it was or how tired it was, I had to write something. I remember once waking up with red stains on my nightgown and freaking out thinking that I was bleeding to death, only to find the red ink pen from writing in my journal. Some of my favorite entries are the ones in jibberish as I was actually writing in my sleep. I was dedicated.

I have thirteen volumes of completed journals. However, volume XIII was started in December of 1997. My amazing journal-writing habit began to unravel when I was a missionary. On the plane to Italy, I committed to only writing in Italian in my journal. I love looking back now and seeing the evolution of my language ability. And, if I do say so myself, my commitment to reading, writing, and speaking Italian helped immensely as I learned to communicate. The benefits of that commitment lasted beyond my mission as I can still speak fluently. I feel very blessed.

On the flip side, since it took longer initially to write in Italian, I quickly fell out of habit. By the time the language came easily and fluidly, my routine was gone. Daily journal writing was no longer a priority. I still wrote home to my family in English, so I didn't miss out on recording my memories. If anything, my letters were even more detailed because of my lack of journal writing. {In fact, they were so long and descriptive that my bratty brother once told me he merely skimmed them. WHAT?!?}

Over the years, I've tried to get back into writing in my journal, but never with the same success as during high school and college. I don't have any regrets, but I still want to create a record of my life.

When I first stumbled into blogging, it was like a new awakening. Every day brought about some funny or introspective event and I would think, "Ooh, I should blog about that."

The Spring of 2009 was a busy one--my brother's 40th birthday, a trip to Disneyland, Easter, and I fell behind. Then the kids were out of school, summer was busy, and Gavin and I were gearing up for our A-MA-ZING Mediterranean Cruise. The more time passed, the more I missed out on and the more overwhelmed I became at catching up. Just like with journal writing, I felt compelled to keep everything in order, so I passed up blogging about current events because I still hadn't finished something from long ago.

No more. I'm not sure yet how I'm going to go about it, but somehow or other I'm going to get back on this blog-wagon. The numbers don't lie--2008 had 97 posts, 2009 had 38, and so far this year . . . EIGHT. Ouch. I can promise my life is no less eventful or stressful, and there is still plenty to say.

So I just have to do it. Ready or not, here I come . . .