If you don't like it, you don't get it

Saturday was our first lawn-mowing of the season. Somehow in the past two weeks our winter stubble has grown to something of a green savanna. So off I went in the riding mower, a task I find quite fun - sort of like riding the bumper cars at the amusement park.
I started mowing the lawn a few years ago. I know that most people, Rob included, make nice straight lines with the mower, and the grass has a lovely uniform pattern when completed. I prefer a more avant-garde approach. Rather than moving back and forth in straight rows, I make circles around the perimeter and then move inward. Have you ever seen the Spiral Jetty in the Great Salt Lake? Very similar technique. I like texture in my lawn. I don't cut each swath the same length. I miss a few spots here and there for effect. I leave the grass around the close edges of the house and the swingset long. We don't have a bag on our mower. Rob and I prefer that the cut grass fall in random patterns. It's an organic look, enriching our lawn while adding additional texture to the overall scene.

My neighbors shake their heads and smile, thinking I just don't know how to mow a lawn. Not so. It's a consious choice. It's art. Here in the suburbs of the midwest, everyone mows their lawn the same way. That's fine, but it's sort of like a museum full of watercolor landscapes. They are beautiful, but after awhile you long for a Rothko Square, or the rhythm of Jackson Pollack, or a Calder sculpture. And that is the gift I give my neighbors all summer long. Contemporary. Abstract. Dare I say? Edgy.

Now the day is over

As if it's Christmas or Easter or a birthday, my family and I have been closing emails and phone calls this week with, "Happy Conference!" Hey, we're quirky. But what a wonderful General Conference it has been! Tonight I have that peaceful feeling that always comes after the Sunday afternoon session. A big sigh that we have to wait six months for Conference to come again, and a big smile trying to store up and savor all the good moments of Saturday and Sunday.

We watched the morning sessions (well, noon for those of us in the Eastern time zone) at our house, and managed to get both kids asleep so that we could actually give the speakers our full attention. For the afternoons, we went to Jensens to watch with Amber and Andrew (Keith and Nan are out of town, alas). Also, Nana has a bigger playroom on a different floor than our preferred Conference-watching space, so it works out well for Ellie. She can explore the basement toys and we can enjoy the session! Today we also had the twinners, Jacob and Claire, so it was quite a party in Nana's playroom (requiring some intervention by the adults upstairs every so often).

Now we are home, and I'm feeling grateful for all that we learned this weekend, and all that we'll continue to learn as we re-read or re-watch the addresses. I don't have much more to report in this post, just that I am grateful, grateful, grateful for General Conference.

Happy Conference!

PS: The picture? Ellie said, "Mom, I take notes. We watch the satellite? And Conference?"

I think it qualifies as a need

Do you read On My Perch? Because you should. It's fun.

Here I am again, throwing my hat into the ring for a giveaway and crossing my fingers. (I don't have a hat, or a circus ring. What kind of cliche is this?) I get three entries if I post a link on my blog rather than just leaving a comment on the site. The danger, of course, is that now all of you can enter and then I'll have more competition.

Lime Ricki swimwear. I haven't bought a new swimsuit in years. Wait. My current swimsuit is a hand me down from Lizzie (not that I don't love it, Bess). But check these out!

Rob says I need to cut myself off from sites that showcase cute things that are obviously not in our budget. But I think even he would agree that winning a giveaway is totally within the budget for a new swimsuit (said budget being $0).

Here's hoping...

The pre-dawn was chilly, but the sun came up around the Mall in fantastic fashion

Team Hinckley did it! See Dad's post on Team Hinckley Run for his take on our great running adventure. It was absolutely fantastic. We were chilly at the starting line, and wondered how many layers we would need. When it's dark and you're freezing and nervous about the race to trust that the sun will come up and warm you. We were grateful to the Bowlers for providing hats and gloves - we needed those - and we were grateful to the sun for keeping its promise. Wow, the early morning sun on the Capitol is pretty spectacular!

Thanks to quite a combination of factors, this half marathon was my absolute favorite of any I have run. My new running mix made up of all my dear readers' suggestions was perfect! Ann ran with me for 11.5 miles and kept me going strong, even through a severe calf-seizing incident between miles 5 and 6. With a mile and a half to go, Ann took off to test her speed. I kept pace, but I didn't feel tired of running. In fact, I was almost sad to pass the 12 mile mark; I was having such fun running! I quickly moved through my playlist to my cross-the-finish-line song: Dad's recommended recording of Jerusalem from Last Night at the Proms. Yes, it brought a few happy tears to my eyes and provided the surge of energy to cross the finish line with a big smile.

Ann was waiting for me, and claimed she had just arrived a minute or so before. Nice of her to say, but you'll note on Dad's blog that she was a full five minutes ahead of me. Yup, she picked up 5 minutes in a mile and a half! Rob, of course, left us eating his dust after about a quarter mile. He came in at 2:07. Ann arrived at 2:18. I arrived at 2:23.

In our family, slow and steady comes in . . . last. But I was happy and still full of energy at the finish line, and it was my second fastest half marathon time. Plus, I shortened my half-marathon-postpartum span to 6 months (versus 10 months with Ellie).

The best moment of the race was when Dad came across the finish line. Nine of the 10 grandchildren were there with posters they'd colored. We were standing close to the announcers (including the famous Bart Yasso), who noticed the kiddos and let them stand right next to the photographer and the announcers table. "Who are we waiting for? Pops?" they asked. We were at the finish line at about 4h 30min, well ahead of Pops' expected 5 hour arrival time, but we wanted to make sure we didn't miss it. Every once in awhile, between announcing marathon finishers, Bart and his c0-announcer would look at the kids and say, "Any sign of Pops yet? We're going to have a PARTY when we see Pops!" At last we saw Pops in the distance, turning the corner into the final stretch. He was limping a bit on his right leg, the result of a severe calf-seizing incident at about mile 20. When the announcers saw the kids jumping up and down and pointing to Pops, they started their cheering over the loud speaker. "Pops is In The HOUSE!" And the crowd went wild. Dad smiled and picked up his pace, and the kids went out to meet him. As Dad crossed the first chip-reader, the announcers said, "Pops is Clark Hinckley from Salt Lake City, Utah!" And then as the grandchildren held Pops' hand across the finish line, the announcers began talking - over the speaker system - about how much they loved the SLC Olympics. I think Pops got more attention than any other runner, winners and Bart Yasso's wife included. It was pretty fantastic.

We hung around the finish area eating post-race snacks and then headed home for naps. Ada and Chris hosted a birthday party for all the March birthdays: me, Lizzie, and Sadie. Whew, what a day! Whew, what a weekend!

Pictures to come, as soon as those whose cameras were at the race download and disseminate their photos (Mom, Dad, Ada). In the meantime, if you're really curious, you can check out our official race photos at Brightroom Photography.

What's on your iPod? Please!

Runners, weigh in. I need you.

Rob and I are running the National half marathon in D.C. this month, and my running mix is in desperate need of updating. What I'm saying is that I'm not at all properly trained for this race, and I need some serious musical help getting me through the 13.1 miles.

My current mix hasn't changed much over the years - it's mostly old Counting Crows, some tracks from the All That You Can't Leave Behind U2 album, and a few other similar random things. I love thinking about all the trails and races I've run to those tunes every time they come up on the Nano. But during my long run last Saturday, they weren't quite enough to get me through the miles. Help!

Recommendations?

Anthropolification

Anthropolification Boyer Cream Cardi GIVEAWAY!!!! GIVEAWAY!!!!

Do you read this site? Because you really should. This woman is incredible. Like many of you I'm sure, I've been admiring Anthropologie's Boyer Cream Cardi for quite some time. Grosgrain Fabulous made one! I know, incredible! I'm crossing my fingers to win this one. Knowing how stiff the competition is (her last giveaway resulted in over 200 entries), I carefully considered her sewing process and thought, "That sounds simple enough. Maybe even I could do that."

It was a fleeting burst of confidence. Who are we kidding? Maybe when I learn to sew a button on, I can aspire to something like Anthropolifying my clothes. Hey, a girl can dream...

"All this is the music of waters."

John Wesley Powell, 1895, on Zion Canyon.

The National Park Service explanatory brochure expounds on Powell's sentiment: "Immutable yet ever changing, the cliffs of Zion stand resolute, a glowing presence in late day, a wild calm.
Melodies of water soothe desert-parched ears, streams twinkle over stone, wren song cascades from red-rock cliffs, cottonwood leaves jitter on the breeze."

A 40 inch print of Maynard Dixon's gorgeous depiction of Angel's Landing takes up most of the space on our stairway wall.

Zion Canyon is a place we've visited a couple of times, and there's something magical about it for us. It's a place where you can breath deeply and spend days in reverent awe staring at the cliffs. So for your five year anniversary, Rob and I took a trip to Zion Canyon, including a hike up Angel's Landing.

Grammie and Pops kindly took Matt and Ellie for the weekend, despite being completely consumed in mission prep. Bless them. Rob and I stayed at the Desert Pearl Inn, a place we highly recommend, and spent all day Saturday hiking in the park. It was perfect: a lovely hotel as a home base, a place that feels luxurious after a day on the trails, combined with, well, a day on the trails. Hiking attire, switchbacks, and trail conversation. Everyone gets deep and honest on the trail, even if it's only a well-traveled 5 mile trail followed by a less traveled 3.6 mile trail. Something about being in nature allows Conversation. We loved it.








Following Church at the Springdale 2nd ward on Sunday morning, we drove back to Salt Lake in time for family dinner and the oh-so-traditional popcorn and rootbeer (in frosty mugs) at Grammie Doll and Daddy's Owen's house.

I'm already dreaming of our next hike. Deep breath. Smile.