Video Test Post

I thought I'd give video-blogging a shot since so many of my friends have such awesome clips on their sites.

So, I got laid off from my job on Sunday. Here's a short clip of my victory celebration. I deeply and sincerely apologize for the lack of decorum found in the (uninvited) commenting female voice.

Introduction to Pulcheria

Greeting to all and sundry. It is my proud pleasure to introduce Pulcheria's blog to the world of cyber-personas. Enjoy, for it is enjoyable.

Mid-West

Well, it's official. I have been accepted to Saint Louis University's History program. Later this summer Jan, Bree and I will leave Utah for approximately 5 years to complete my Ph.D. in Medieval European History. SLU has one of the world's preeminent medieval scholars, specializing in the Crusades (what I am planning on emphasizing), and Dr. Madden and I hit it off immediately when we met last month.

This will be the longest time any of us have lived outside the Zion Curtain. As of right now, the probable date of departure has been set for Monday, July 23.

8 wonderful years

Thank you for everything, Jan. It's been an amazing journey, and you're the best partner I could ask for.

Little Wild Horse

Stage three of our whirlwind tour of southern San Raphael began on the morning of April 30 when we packed our goods, deconstructed our shelter and drove out of the Valley of the Goblins. Turning North then West we sought the trailhead for Little Wild Horse Canyon, which we found after the road crossed through a recently flooded wash/arroyo/wadi (presumably Little Wild Horse Creek), arrived at the parking lot and threw on our packs.
It was Bree’s first real slot canyon. I think it was also Jan’s, but she’s done it a couple times before. Though I’ve done other slots, it was my first time through it. What a fun little canyon it was! Quite a variety of wall texture – from the long flat sided sections to the majorly twisty-bendy-convoluted.
Bree, of course, paused quite often to play in the sand. That’s okay. This trip was for her. Her parents, however, found unexpected relief when we met Jasper and his dog Boo-boo, with parents in tow. They were from Colorado and were out enjoying the beautiful day. For Bree, lacking N.A.M. as motivation to keep moving, Jasper became a very competent substitute and next thing I knew, Bree and he were walking hand in hand while Jasper “taught” her how to hike, run, jump, et cetera. It was very cute. He shared his treats and toys at our break, just like a pure little gentleman.

We parted ways after the narrowest of the narrows as they went back, and we finished the hike. Bree didn’t last long. I had to carry her back most of the way because she was drifting in and out of consciousness (late nap-time for her). I didn’t mind a bit. She’s still light enough not to be too much of a burden, and I enjoyed her little head on my shoulder. Very cute. Very enjoyable hike.


From Li’l Wild Horse we went pretty much straight home, pausing only at Mom’s Café (Salina) and REI (SLC). An amusing, whirlwind-tour of a trip. Goblin Valley - not to mention it’s juxtaposed environs - is highly recommended, especially if you’ve got a child, or a rambunctious inner-child, who loves trackless, pathless running, rambling and reveling.

Valley of the Goblins

Our new home (we were only renting). The view was great.

Pulcheria thinks: Hm. I wonder where Bree's hiding.

Bree thinks: Now! now! now! Quick! While her back is turned! Freedom! Woot!!

'Say "cheese," Bree!'

Stage Two of our adventure began when we arrived at our camp (still Sunday, Apr. 29). We tented among the goblinesque hoodoos of Goblin Valley State Park. After pitching our home we headed out to play. Bree had such fun running around and leading Pulcheria from hoodoo to sand heap, sand heap to hoodoo. She climbed, clambered, slid and generally had a fantastic time there, sans trail, sans schedule. Pulcheria very patiently allowed her to run and play pretty much wherever she wanted. Meanwhile, I went off exploring the outer valleys, in which I had never before been. I got reasonably (and pleasantly) lost in the labyrinthine system drainages and spires (generally much bigger and more impressive than Valley #1), and finally ended up climbing a ridge to get my bearings. An hour and a half later I rejoined my family (still led by Bree), got some last minute playing taken care of, then back to camp for dinner and bed.


"Daddy! Look - I see a IZARD!!"

Pulcheria poses, looking particularly pulchritudinous.

One of Bree's favorite activities was to "ride" the myriad Entrada fashioned "camels."

Meadow Hot Springs

For stage one of our mini-vacation, we arrived at Meadow Hot Springs at approximately 11:30am on April 29. Now this pool has a lot of charm to offer the soaker. First, the pool itself is completely natural. Unlike the commercialized Crystal Hot Springs or even the rustic, rudimentarily improved Ogden Hot Springs, the only two alterations in this place are the wooden fence surrounding the pool and a thick rope encased by heavy PVC pipe running across the pool at its deepest level. Second, although there is only one pool accessible, it is just about the right temperature to suit everybody’s needs. I’d guess it was somewhere between 95 and 100 degrees [so, a tad cooler (5-10 degrees) than Ogden]. The water is amazingly clear and beautiful. There is no detectible sulfuric smell surrounding or surmounting the spring. The travertine deposits about a foot under the surface (perfect benches) and all around the pool make it seem like an exquisitely built set for a multimillion dollar film. Truly an amazing piece of nature. Its many attractive features draw bigger crowds than the less picturesque springs I've visited, but we enjoyed the company. Pulcheria and I had a good long soak. Bree, in and out frequently, also had a great time.

For those interested in going themselves:

N38* 51.8___
W112* 30.1___

Further directions to be acquired upon request and/or bribes.

The Bound Pilgrim

the sky seems full of falcons
they soar and dive, drive heavenward
check, swerve round, stoop, hurtle to earth
thunder whispers through their feathers
yearning bursts my heart
my feet cling to the soil
my talons refuse to release
watching them, I await my turn
my soul has wings but cannot rise

1/25/07

Enlightenment

in quiet footsteps and birds’ song
plays
voiceless speeches
millennia’s memories
music

cairns stand vigil
ageless guides

cold sandstone
waiting for dawn
whispers
like a cat’s tongue
abrasive
across naked feet
wears away the callus of the soul 

around a corner
revelation
delicate window into heaven
perched on the edge
solitary guardian
strength
greeting day’s first light

illuminated by the sun
it is what it is
Ahyeh-Asher-Ahyeh
I become what I am
and ever will be

4/09/07

Sandstone Sandbox

Enough insightful/personal posts for now. It’s time for some more plain, old-fashioned showing off. Above, on the trail to Tower Arch, Bree has found a "hiding place," from which she proved difficult to extricate.

Bree was a little trooper the whole trip. She hiked a good 60-70% of every trail she went on. Only at the end of Fiery Furnace did she get tired enough to ask to be carried. The more common complaint she had was that her parents were just too goal oriented to let her play in her own privately fashioned sand-box for hours on end. I know: we're slave drivers.

She hiked the entirety of the Mesa Arch Loop Trail, and is shown here taking a much deserved mini-break, basking in the sun like the lizards she has learned to love.

Cheeky grin (due primarily to chipmunk-like storage of pretzels) and all, here's Bree cheesing it up in front of the camera. She had so much fun on this trip, but still wants to "play in the sand." To that end, we have therefore already booked a tent-spot in Goblin Valley for the weekend after Easter. Post comment for information about said trip, including propositions concerning possible multi-familial conventions.

Mountain Goat

In many ways, this trip was a kind of test-run of the capabilities of my new body. I was running and jumping – easily, I might add - around places that, just six months ago, I would literally have been heaving my hefty self, feeling weighed down and depressed.


I felt/feel more agile than I have since I was a kid. I've rediscovered a physical confidence and capability that have been missing since early adolescence. It’s been a "rebirth" experience for me, creating this new-self. As we journeyed through the Fiery Furnace, Pulcheria described my movements as "graceful." Graceful. I like that.

Just after Pulcheria took this shot (I couldn’t help but grab a couple virtual caches while I was down there) I ran the Windows Primitive Loop Trail. Ran it. Ran! Okay, so I only ran 2/3 – ¾ of the 1.25 mile trail: but, still, it’s me – running. Here's to constant progression!

Biological Nomenclature in Landscapes

It has been pointed out by numerous nature writers that earth and her forms are often described in terms of feminine anatomy. The desert of the Colorado Plateau is one of the few places on earth, in my opinion, where masculine nomenclature is equally applicable. From the spires of Bryce to the towers of Monument Valley, the dominant anatomical symbol is not the mound of the breast, dimple of the small of the back, or gentle curve of the hip. Rather, it is the phallus.

To be sure, the breast, back, hip and even the (insert bodily part here) of the slot canyon is still most prominent. But what really strikes me is the conjugal mixture of spire next to mound, boulders against valley, tower within canyon, turret seen through arch.

The whole plateau is charged with sexual metaphor:

The paucity of plant life yearns for wetness
Heat presses sky and land
Breezes sigh
Tension builds
Cloud and stone await the kiss of rain

Drops, gentle, caress desperate soil
Lightning jabs back and forth
Rain grows intense
Hail surges
Wind groans

Tension breaks
Climax floods through slot canyon
Humid heat remains
Dusk's afterglow soothes
Sleep descends
Fresh life emerges

(Or, alternatively, maybe I'm too Freudian about the whole experience...)

Dead Horse Point

My adorable little family just got back from a great, if brief, break down in Ed Abbey country. We went with the Wild Bounders and had a fantastic time camping, hiking, scrambling, climbing, and generally having a superb time of it all. What's more, most of the highlights have been digitally captured, giving me ample posting material for the next few days.

This shot, taken during the last few hours of desert roving, features Pulcheria and Bree looking very cute in front of a bend in the Colorado River from the vantage of Dead Horse Point.

Showing Off

Someday I hope to own my very own scanner. Until then, you'll have to make do with these small jpegs. Here we are showing off (Bree's not the one showing off. She could care less about posing for silly photographs) our gorgeous daughter in her new Easter dress.

Some of you may have seen these already, and we beg your forgiveness - not that we are at all apologetic, but it's probably the socially proper thing to do. For those who have seen them here for the first time: please feel free to offer feedback if you so desire.

Lost Investment

Since the photo below has a headshot (en passant) of Bree, it barely squeaks in.

So, imagine you’ve been slowly investing. Everyone needs a certain amount to survive, but say you’ve managed over the last 12 years to take what you bring and pack a little extra away. Say you’ve done remarkably well, and have saved about 30% of what you needed to use. Now that’s a remarkable investment. Impressive, huh? Wouldn’t you feel great if that were you? Wouldn’t you feel terrible if you suddenly lost it all? Well… That’s what happened to me. And I did it on purpose.

The unfortunate part of my savings is that it wasn’t money which I hoarded. It was excess calories. So, to date, I've lost 30% of my body weight over the last ~4 months and am feeling fantastic. At the risk of arrogance, I would even say that I look slightly less terrible. Look at the photo and judge for yourself.




















Yes, I am sucking in - but only a very little bit. ;)

Nix Fiat

It is a strange phenomenon that we, as a society, should enjoy eating compacted balls of solidified water crystals with cores of pure pollution. Stranger still that we should also encourage our children to throw themselves to the mercy of gravity and slide down steep hills of the stuff, merrily clicking away with our cameras. Nevertheless, herein are nestled some of the great joys of winter. I venture to postulate that these are some of the only joys of winter. There. I've said it.

But, Daddy! What big eyes you have!

So, yesterday, I get this crazy idea that I want to learn to sew. Pulcheria, being the kind, supportive philanthropist she is, said she’d help me learn. I don’t choose a simple pillowcase or hat. No way, not me. For my first sewing project since what has to be the seventh grade, I choose a cape and hood for Bree. Poor Pulcheria. Bless her heart. She patiently guided me along from 9:00pm to 3:30am (in a project that would have taken her only a couple hours). I am very, very happy with the results, though. It should fit her until she’s in third grade, too.

Floored

Okay, so a couple weeks ago Pulcheria put Bree to sleep (i.e. into Bree’s actual bed, not euthanized) and was enjoying the somniferous lethargy that immediately precedes soporific catalepsy, when she was startled back to semi-consciousness by a small voice saying, “mommy.” It wasn’t a shout. It wasn’t a cry. It was just a soft call that quickly went silent.

After giving the little voice enough time to disappear into its own dreams, Pulcheria quietly crept out of bed to go check on Bree. It just so happens that the easiest path to Bree’s room is through the bathroom. What she found there elicited great sympathy, love and a little bit of humor. Turns out Bree simply wanted to be close to her mommy.

The Wilkster

This link is to a video of a great friend who consistantly beats the odds and inspires all within his circle of influence. Be patient. It'll load.

http://web.mac.com/bradboyle/iWeb/Site/Ben%20and%20Tyler%20KSL.html

Where's Phil?

So, one of these ornaments is not like the others. Which one is your guess?