It's Gonna Be a Hot Time in the Old Town Tonight...

Sitting here, typing this blog post, I can hear the helicopters zooming overhead to douse the flames and smoke that are still making their way down the mountains just behind our house. The fire started 3 days ago at Camp Williams, where some oblivious military personnel had shooting practice with machine guns in spite of the red flag that had been issued because of high temperatures and low humidity. A fire quickly caught hold of the dry sage and brush and spread up the mountain behind us.
Sunday, after a nap, I wandered into our family room and noticed an odd orange light coming from the high window in our entryway. Then we saw the smoke. Orange and black and white, coming from behind our mountain. It looked like there was a lot of blue sky around it, though, so we were hopeful that it would quickly be contained.
It wasn't. The next time we looked outside, there was a snake-like line of fire approaching our house. Fire trucks and helicopters did what they could, but there is limited access to the top of our mountain, so they had to wait for the fire to come to them. One image in particular haunts me. It's of our fire, miles long and hungry, coming down our mountain and leaving red hot ash behind it (like lava) and one lone fire truck at the base, waiting with all of its lights on and sirens screaming, as the fire approached it. It reminded me of that scene on Titanic when the captain knows they are going down so they send out flares and the camera pans back so that you can see that there is nothing but deadly, dark, freezing ocean for miles and miles around. In this case, though, the fire trucks beat back the fire.
The kids panicked and ran through the house with armloads of things from their closets and the game room that they dumped down into the family room. Apparently, "pick only the important things" included every toy they have ever owned. I ran around and put most of their stuff back and tried to pick the things that were important to me, too. We ended up with some things we needed, but, most importantly, my two favorite pairs of jeans and the boys' Wii. We are simple people.
Steve stayed in the house for as long as he could. He reminded me of captain Ahab, standing against nature's open maw. It scared me to death, but he finally joined us at my parent's house at 5 the next morning. We thought we'd be able to go back that day, but we were kept back from our road by the military and the police.
We slept at my parents' for two nights. After the first night, my mom joked that we had another day until she'd kick us out to fend for ourselves at the high school with the other evacuees. Bless her, she never did kick us out even after my kids lost their minds and practically begged me to end their lives.
Tuesday night at 8, (day 2 of the evacuation) I got a call from Felisha that the police had left our road. I had been glued to the website that gave what I thought was up-to-date info about which evacuation orders had been lifted. My dad and I quickly piled into his car to see if she was right. She was! We went home and I gathered and dumped things and kids alike into our car so that I could zoom up the road to our house with my foot only letting up from the gas when we passed the policeman sealing off the road leading further up the mountain.
I was offered love and help by many. Thank you all. Thanks, Mom and Dad, for saving me and mine AGAIN. Thank you to all the policemen, firemen, bulldozer drivers, helicopter pilots, etc. from 4 different states who were willing to stand up and shake their fist at such a huge fire and win. We don't even have smoke damage in here. Three homes were lost, but there are pictures of the fire coming right up to the backyards of many others. So many were blessed, and I am one of them. I am thankful.

Zion, Dear Zion

Ah, to be home. Ohio tried its darndest to keep us there--I went to the airport on the 23rd and our plane came in with 2 flat tires. The poor woman from American Air got on a mike and said that our plane would be delayed because they didn't have enough tires available. I went into a huge line and then was told that the flight was cancelled. I laughed. When I finally got to the woman who looked like she had been gang beaten, she told me the soonest I could get home was by taking a 7:15 a.m. flight to Chicago and then home to Utah. My children, meanwhile, ran through the waiting area and made themselves nuisances. I tried to pretend they weren't mine, but then Topher came up to me and loudly told me that he needed to poo and ran off with a hand on his bum. The man behind me bemusedly told me he would hold my place in line. Bless the woman who later distracted my hoodlums with her French bulldog puppy for a few blessed minutes.
The airline put us up in a hotel and served us pepperoni pizza in our room and at 4:30 a.m. I woke the kids up and herded them to the airport shuttle. Topher didn't stop crying all morning. I put him on top of the wheeled luggage so I could pull him along, and he fell asleep and fell off the side onto his head. Have I mentioned I don't like flying? It makes me sick and after 3 hours I start to feel claustrophobic, I start hyperventilating, and I grip the armrests until my knuckles go white. When it gets really bad, I find myself mumbling a prayer with my head resting on the seat in front of me.
When we landed and I stumbled off the plane, I ran to the baggage area hoping that the kids were keeping up (they were.) When we saw my mom and dad, they all subsequently dropped any and all luggage they were holding for me.
To sum the summer up, (and really any summer where we do sales) I liken it to the story of Persephone. You know, the lady who ate the pomegranate seeds and had to live for 4 months in hell so she could go home for the other 8? That's me.
Being home is wonderful. The mountains are like sentinels and the heat doesn't feel like I have stepped out into someone's open mouth. Sure I have mice who have taken up residence in my cabinets and fireplace and have outsmarted my traps (I heard one set it off in the fireplace, struggle, and then saw that it had run off with my cracker-bait)and sure one of the mice is running through the cabinets with a trap STILL ATTACHED, but I got one of the little suckers and have now declared war on Mickey and all his kinfolk. The good news is that there are no bears living in the basement and nothing has carried off any of the kids during the night. Phew.
I got my hair cut and dyed (ah) and even tried out eyelash extensions today and then realized, to my chagrin, that I am allergic to the glue and went to have them removed the same day. FYI--if you have to get extensions removed, the solution that takes them off stings like crazy and it has to sit on your lashes for 10-20 minutes. Of course, with my luck it was 20. I could hear in my mother's tone of voice that she really wanted to say, "Vanity, thy name is woman," but she didn't and I love her for it.
When Steve gets here, it will be home again.

32 years down...

My birthday came and went, as all birthdays tend to do. It went really well. I only got one strange comment from a bank teller (who was the human equivalent of biting on tinfoil) who noticed from my driver's license that it was the big day and made a tsk noise and said it was all downhill from here with no trace of humor. Hmm. I choked down the compulsion to punch him in the face and smiled until my cheeks hurt. In my head I sang "Happy Birthday to me" and felt better.
The funny thing about being out doing sales for the summer is that I have to wait ALL day to go out on a date. Steve came home early (8:45), so we went to the Olive Garden. Yum. They have those in Ohio, too. Afterward, we went to the movie theater and saw Inception. It was good in a disturbing, subconscious, controlled through your dreams, Matrix-y kind of way. Leonardo DiCaprio no longer looks like I outweigh him, and that is good.
During the day, I had the best brownie I have ever had from Panera Bread. Felisha, you were so right. Panera Bread is Nirvana. The aforementioned brownie was almost black it was so full of chocolate-y goodness, it had little bits of chocolate chips, and it was the perfect amount of munchy/chewy. I inhaled it and wished after that I had gazed at it fondly and named it first. I even shared with my daughter and then wondered, guiltily, why I had.
All in all a good day.

We are not in Utah anymore, Toto

Ways to know you are not in Utah anymore:
1. When taking the kids out in public, everyone looks at us like having 4 kids who are obviously brothers and sister is a stare-worthy event. Multiply by two when Karen and I go somewhere together with all 8 of our kids.
2. Tornado sirens are common-place. I think I could deal with a lot of rain, but adding a tornado siren ups the panic factor by quite a bit.
3. Walking on grass may mean being latched onto by ticks. I actually considered using the flea/tick medicine for Chewie on the kids. Decided against it.
4. Lots of green. Trees, grass, vines, bushes. Everywhere. I thought I was into living green things, but I'm starting to feel like the stuff is going to take over.
5. Putting on chapstick=dressing up. I've been wearing the same pants for a few days now. Having this job means deciding whether you would rather haul clothes and shoes across the country or wear the same things a lot. Guess which one I picked.
6. Having a car means I have borrowed it from Karen or it is early or late enough that Steve isn't using it for work.
7. We have no internet or cable at our apartment. The boys are constantly glued to the Wii or the same 7 movies I brought out here. We have memorized a lot of Kung Fu Panda and can recite it on demand.
8. We live in a two bedroom, one bathroom apartment. The boys share a queen bed and Kayla gets her own twin. Topher usually ends up on the couch in the living room because he is so excited to be with his brothers that he can't be quiet and go to sleep.
9. Crazy schedule. Eating out at 11 p.m. is normal. Steve works from 11a.m.-10 p.m. daily but Saturdays when it's 8:30 a.m.-10 p.m. and has Sundays off. Going to a movie means staying up until 2 a.m. When the movie is Eclipse it is totally worth it. (Four of the women from the office are going to the 12:10 a.m. showing on June 30th.)
10. The kids have had 5 sleep overs with their cousins and play with them every day. I think they'll have withdrawals when we go home.

We are here! We are here! We are here!

We made it to Ohio with 4 kids, two lay-overs, 2 security checks, one throw up scare on the plane (me), and one nauseous but relieved woman who's just glad to see her husband. Plane rides make me sick. The first trip from SLC to Cincinnati was bumpy. I gripped the arm rest and a barf bag while my youngest whooped and laughed a row behind me. I found a little relief when I put my forehead on the chair in front of me and mumbled, "Help me." The second flight was really nice and short and surprisingly turbulence-free. When we made it to the Columbus airport, Steve met us at the baggage check and, quoting Kayla, "You half ran and half skipped to Daddy. No one should have to see that from behind." Thanks, sweetie.
While Karen and I were out walking on a little trail by our apartments with all eight of our kids and two others from our office, I was reminded that we are not in Utah anymore, Toto. We both commented on the big, angry looking clouds that were coming our way. Suddenly, we heard a loud siren start up behind us and realized that it was a tornado warning. Rain came over us in a sheet of water and Karen and I ran to get the kids ahead of us who were riding scooters and bikes. A ranger in a truck came by and picked up me and Topher, but I had lost sight of Karen and the rest of the kids. He took us back to our apartments and went back to collect a sopping wet Karen with 9 kids and several bikes and scooters from someone's garage. Silly, mountainless place. We're out in the open just waiting for any old tornado or wayward storm to carry everything off.
We are adjusting pretty well. It's great to be with Steve again and the kids have Karen's family to play with and I have Karen. We had a dessert night last night with the office and a game night with Karen, Aaron, Cat, Cordon, Ben, and me. Steve fell asleep on the couch. We were up until 1 playing Settlers and Shanghai. So fun. Dragging a little today, but it was worth it. Miss you, Mom and Dad.

He's in the details

In times where I am sure I am wound as tightly as I can be, I am amazed at the whisperings of peace I receive. One happened about a week ago when I had a consultation with Kayla's urologist. After he told me that she could have surgery and I teared up with relief, I was sent to get the appointment with the secretary. After a little work, she was able to procure the 7th of June. My initial reaction was to panic. We had plane tickets to meet Steve in Ohio for May 30th. What would I do? Then a quiet sense of peace filled me. I am able to recognize this as foreign to my nature right away and see it as what it is: someone who loves me and Kayla more than I can imagine. It was as if someone's warm hand was on my shoulder and an assurance that my plans would still work filled me. This would mean that someone scheduled for surgery would have to cancel his/her appointment. I went home with a sense of gratitude. The days went by. I began to doubt my initial feelings. My dad changed the flights at my request for June 15th. Two days ago, as I was picking Cole up from school, a nurse from Primary Children's called and asked me if I would like to take the spot that had just opened for Wednesday, the 26th. I said, "Yes!" and thanked her several times. My sweet dad was able to change our flights back to the 30th with no penalties.
I hope that I can have enough faith the next time to be patient when I feel a prompting. What a miracle! We miss Steve and the thought of two extra weeks without him had left me feeling overwhelmed and panicky.
I am so grateful that my Father has heard my prayers and granted me peace. Some people have the gift of a calm spirit from birth. I think Glen and my dad do. Steve and my boys do, too. When I feel calm, I know it isn't something I have achieved by myself; it is pretty obvious who it is from.

Ode to J. Crew

Ah, J. Crew. I love your pencil skirts and your lush cardigans in every beautiful shade of the rainbow. And the fact that I can browse through your clothes online while watching Kung Fu Panda with my sleeping son in the middle of a Saturday afternoon, priceless.