Crumpled strips of paper

Laid neatly in front of me were 20 pieces of paper. Four colors--blue, green, yellow, red. Five strips per color. The woman at the front of the small meeting room instructed me to write my five favorite things about nature on the blue papers. Easy. Snowy mountains, waterfalls, Indian paintbrush, warm rain and quiet, fall mornings.

She then instructed me to write my five favorite hobbies on the yellow papers. Easy. Writing, reading, cooking, backpacking and yoga. Now, the green papers. I wrote down my five most prized possessions. Easy. My wedding ring, my baptism scriptures, the letter Dalton had me read before he proposed, my journals and my hard drive that contains all of my pictures, poems and essays.

The red paper strips were left. The woman asked us to think of the five people who meant the most to us and write them down. What? The five people that mean the most? Do I count God and Jesus in this list? What about my siblings? They won't fit! I had to make a decision though, so I wrote Dalton, Mom, Dad, Jesus and God.

The woman conducting the activity was darling. She was the mother of five and a hospice coordinator. I was spending my Friday night doing my last four hours of training required to become a hospice volunteer.

"I'm going to read you a story about you," she said. "For the next 15 minutes, this is your life."

In my new life I felt something in my stomach. It was hard and painful to touch. It got bigger. I denied what I knew it could be, but after telling my husband decided to go to the doctor. This was the beginning. I had to give away one slip of paper. Easy. I'll give away the snowy mountains. I like normal mountains just as well.

You have cancer, she said, you'll start treatment next week. I continued to give away slips of paper throughout my treatment. I easily handed off my wedding ring and most of my hobbies. I gave away the Indian paintbrush and the waterfalls, but kept the quiet mornings. I couldn't give away my photos or the five-page letter Dalton wrote me.

Your illness is terminal, she said. The treatments aren't working. I started to experience moments of panic as I realized I would soon need to leave my journals behind and my photos. I had to crumple up the strip that said "writing," realizing in my last days I wouldn't have the strength to put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard. I pressed my lips together, trying not to get emotional, as I crumpled up my journals, photos and the letter Dalton wrote me. I couldn't let go of that quiet fall morning. I felt like letting go of that meant letting go of my connection with Earth. Crumpling that piece of paper up felt like saying goodbye. It felt like accepting death on a smaller scale. I started to understand.

In the end, I crumbled up "Mom" and "Dad" as I took my last breaths, and looked down at the three papers I had left. The hospice woman stood behind me for a moment, reached over my shoulder, took Dalton's name and crumpled it in her hand. I was left with two names "God" and "Jesus." Then, I died.

On my way home I thought about my sadness. Then I remembered my sadness was all for nothing. On the other side of this life I will still have my parents and Dalton. I will take with me my knowledge of this world, and heaven will be more beautiful and surreal than any earthly place in existence.

Most days I can't believe how lucky I am to know this. I believe I will die much like a woman I read about. With her daughters encircling her as she lay in bed, a sweet old woman look up at the corner of the room before she took her last breath. She breathed in and her eyebrows lifted, her mouth dropped open and she smiled wider than her daughters knew she could. Her eyes were filled with ethereal light as she gazed up and then exhaled. Her eyes gently closed. Her daughters believe a beautiful messenger entered the room then to take her home. This old woman knew it was only her beginning.

I'm so excited to share this sacred space with hospice patients as they cope with death in their last days. Whether or not these patients share my beliefs about death, I hope by some miracle I can help a few of them know peace.

I'm a Stingy Ninja

There are so many uncertainties that come with being 23. I know in the next few years I might say the word house and baby more often. If I want to pay for those pregnancy medical bills, put 20 percent down on a house, help my husband through school, support him through an internship and extra classes/recruitment trips, pay for a fancy new laptop (Dalton has had his current laptop for almost 6 years) and all the regular expenses, coupons need to be a regular part of life.

I take pride in knowing that we were able to eat out Friday night and Saturday night for a whopping total of $20 if the price of the one Groupon is included. And I'm not talking fast food. This doesn't include the tip we paid, but still. Why on earth would I want to pay full price when I can pay half price? Sometimes, though, this mentality gets me in trouble. Why would I buy a new couch when I can buy two couches for $300 that look new except for that one hidden dog drool stain?

I spend an allotted time on Sunday afternoon sorting my coupons and deciding what the best plan of action is for my grocery trip. I'm not one of those psychos ladies in the Walmart line with a binder of coupons, but I have my little stack on double coupon Tuesday, and you better believe I ad match. Why on Earth wouldn't you? Dalton and I eat the majority of our meals at home, not including Friday or Saturday night when I am tired of cooking. Eating out twice this last weekend was rare. We are lucky enough to work close enough to home that we can drive home for a bite on our breaks. 

It can be tough sometimes to buy a variety of quality, healthy food at a reasonable price. In a two-week period I usually spend around $100 in groceries, which includes any extra staple items I run out of. I also shopping at Smith's or Lolo's for meat. Why Smith's? Well, because they usually have a ton of Manager's Specials depending on the time of day. That means the meat needs to be put in a freezer very soon, but it isn't bad meat. Let me give you a breakdown of how much Sunday dinner cost us. We still have 1/3 of this pizza left in the fridge.

Shredded Mozarella Cheese: $1.50 at Smith's
- I used half of the 8 oz. bag = .75
Medium Cheddar Cheese: $1.50 at Smith's
- I used the sprinkling that was leftover: = .25
Flour: $1.67 at Lolo's
- 2 1/2 cups = about .25
Salt: .30 at Lolo's
- 1 tsp. = about .05
Cooking Oil: $1.87 Lolo's
- 2 tbsp. = about .05
Yeast (3 packets): $1.18
1 packet = about .39
Chicken: $3 at Smith's
- I cooked all of the chicken but only used 1/3 of the package = $1
Red Onion (1): .30 Lolo's
- I used about 1/3 of the onion = .10
Mushrooms: 1.76 Lolo's
- I used two mushrooms for my half = .20
BBQ Sauce: .88 Walmart (Ad match)
- 3 tbsp. = .05
Kraft Fat Free Ranch: $1 at Smith's
- I had a coupon for $1 off of 2 Kraft dressings. They were 1.50 at Smith's (one of their buy 5 save 5 deals), therefore, I got each for $1.
- 2 tbsp. = .05

THEREFORE, this pizza cost $3.14 to make. And to think, so many people think a floppy Little Caesar's with 7 pepperonis and rubber cheese is a good deal. Get with the program people.

Get smart with your money young ones. I'm still learning, but what I've learned so far is doing amazing things for my bank account. Yes, it takes a little more time and preparation, but my anxiety for the future is at an all-time low. You've heard it a million times, but the little things do add up!

I'd love to hear any of your money-saving tips!

Make It Feel Like Fall

There is something majestic about autumn. 

Some people are inspired by summer sunsets while others live for the sounds of birds returning in spring. I, on the other hand, swoon at the sight of rich fall colors on an overcast day. There isn't a thing about fall that I dislike. It's everything, from the spiced candles to leaves decorating the streets to hay bales. As of recently, I can sit through an entire football game without punching myself in the face. I focus better during the fall months. I'm easily motivated, and I get the comfort of bundling up without freezing to death.

Ever since leaving home I've done my best to make holidays away from home enjoyable. Truthfully, though, fall creeps up on me every time, and just as I realize it's almost winter, I'm finally getting into the fall mood. I mean, I was wearing a bathing suit a few weeks ago and it's almost October. How am I supposed to be ready to break out the pumpkins on such short notice?

Well, I realized I had to take action. I'm not going to let another fall get away from me. I love it too much! I'm also realizing that seasonal atmosphere are not necessarily created on their own. It's one of those obvious realizations you have when you are trying to start your own family and traditions. 

Last weekend I took an unforgettable journey down the aisles of Michael's craft store. That place got my wheels turning like you wouldn't believe. At one point I filled my baby cart and then slapped some sense into myself. I ended up taking most of it out and limiting myself to the things I could buy. I realized a great method to craft shopping is to start in the clearance area. If you can't find what you need there, then you can branch out. Luckily, I found a $22 basket/vase combo marked down to $4. I added a few of my own touches and my kitchen centerpiece was even cuter than I imagined. I bought a few other things like $2 Halloween cookie cutters. If I have them, you better believe I'll use them. Also, I fell in love with these little pumpkins at Walmart that were white with orange and green vertical stripes. 

I am like most other females in that something about the smell and taste of pumpkin makes me want to make out. Lucky for Dalton. I made pumpkin waffles and turkey sausage today for dinner. It's true, they weren't pristine waffles. I had a heck of a time getting them out of the waffle maker. By the time mine ended up on the plate it looked like someone already chewed it up and spit it out. Dalton's little stack looked good enough to take a picture of. I'll be honest, I forgot to put the butter in that the recipe called for. Dalton read the recipe to me while I was rushing around the kitchen. This is also probably why he forgot to mention that the egg whites needed to be beaten with a hand mixer separately from the milk and egg yolk combination that also needed to be beaten. Honestly, they were still really good. And honestly, no one needs a pretty waffle. One thing that I loved about these waffles is the ginger. I didn't have nutmeg and cloves, so we settled for ginger and cinnamon. Delicious.

Here is the cheater's recipe I used. Basically, I made a really complicated recipe simple by mixing everything together in a bowl and forgetting butter :).

1 cup pumpkin
2 eggs
1 cup milk
1 1/4 cup flour
3 tbsp corn starch
1/2 tsp salt
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/4 cup brown sugar
1 tsp ginger
2 tsp cinnamon

Hey, it works. Sometimes, imperfection still tastes good.

Fall is here people! Breathe it all in! Go on a hike and experience that twinge of chill hanging in the air. Plan those outings to the local pumpkin patch and put pumpkin in ... Everything! Here is another good bit of news. You can make soup again. Dalton said I'm allowed to starting October 1. 

Twenty Things My Husband Taught Me in 20 Months

I was looking at a Christmas mug sitting on our shoe rack near the front door when I got to thinking. I had filled the mug partially with water and placed in it the nubs leftover from a bundle of green onions I used in my lunchtime omelet concoctions. Now, these green onions are no longer nubs. If I can wait about a week to use green onions again, I will never need to buy them again. Thanks to Dalton and my decision to get married, I've learned more than a few things. Some of these things are profound, but I won't bore you with all of that mushy gush. Most of these things, however, are absolutely practical and essential in everyday living.

OK, I might have exaggerated, but one thing I know is certain: Dalton is a genius.

Here are a few things he has taught me ...

1. Stop buying green onions, they grow back.
2. Put peanut butter on both pieces of bread when packing a PB&J for lunch. This way, the jelly doesn't make the bread soggy.
3. Things like broken toilet handles are easily fixed by making a trip to Home Depot. Buying a new toilet is not necessary.
4. Dishes and clothes don't become cleaner by using more dishwasher soap and laundry detergent.
5. Pairing/folding socks is the most pointless things a person could do.
6. The game of football should be worshiped every Sunday. If you don't have cable, you should go buy a fancy antennae from Best Buy so that football deprivation will not make your life miserable.
7. Put money you don't plan on using in the near future in a CD. You might as well make a few bucks since it's just sitting around.
8. Quoting Bad Lip Reading YouTube videos at any given moment is the funniest things a person could possibly do.
9. It's OK to make little kids who aren't your own feel guilty for being naughty, especially if you are their Sunday school/primary teacher.
10. Getting a Concealed Weapons Permit is one of the smartest things you can do.
11. Driving a golf ball is all about torso rotation. Golf makes people angry, and that's why people keep playing it.
12. Vegetarians/vegans are no fun.
13. You can save a lot of gas by coasting in neutral down every hill.
14. Buying cheap, dented cans from the store is a horrible idea.
15. Matches should always be kept near the toilet.
16. Otter pops and graham crackers are as essential as flour and salt.
17. Proper color coordination will make or break you.
18. Watching/reading the news should be the first thing every person does in the morning.
19. Everything is funnier when you speak in a British accent.
20. If you can't decide between two good things, have both.

Speaking of getting the best of both worlds, I decided to try my luck at Brookies, or Crownies as Dalton and I call them.

I cheated a little bit to speed up the process and used a boxed brownie mix. It's much easier than I thought. Mix the brownie mix in one bowl and a "Blondie" recipe in the other. I added 1/2 c. oatmeal to my Blondie mix. Then I made stripes in a greased 9x13 pan of each batter. I even overlapped some of the batters and they stayed separated. Bake at 350 for about 38 minutes. Delicious!

Together in Colorado

I can't remember a single Meidell vacation that was all lounge chairs, spas and virgin margaritas. No, no. That crap is for sissies.

Instead, we fill our days by bouncing from one activity to the next so that we don't feel like the little time we spend together is wasted. I think it's the way to go, but it leaves me sleeping like the dead the night I return home.

Our most recent weekend trip to Colorado Springs was special to me. It was the last time my entire immediate family would be together for more than two years. My brother Tyler leaves in late October to serve an LDS mission in San Antonio. I gave him a final squeeze at the airport before they rushed to their terminal.

The entire purpose of the annual Colorado trip is to spend time with my sister Lindsay during Parent's Weekend at the Air Force Academy. Another reason this trip was special is it's Lindsay's last year! It's the last time I'd ever eat Falcon blue popcorn at a football game or find myself dozing off during the "parade"--in case you don't know what a parade is in the military, I'll give you a hint: there are no floats and you will not find candy. I'll never be allowed on school grounds without her to escort me.

I could go on and on about all the things we did. To make the trip even more exciting, I found myself at one point sitting on a downtown Denver street corner with my grandmother's head in my lap. She started to dip and sway, so I lowered her down with my forearms under her armpits and stroked her clammy skin as the paramedics came. Grandma said she hadn't fainted since she was pregnant with my dad. Dalton sprinted six blocks to find her a juice box.

One night, we were cave explorers--OK, we had a tour guide--and learned about all the "haunted" instances people experienced inside the Cave of the Winds' walls. Apparently, some joker set up a bedroom and hosted parties in this place. He must have been cold all the time. At one point, we were asked to turn our lanterns off and a 30-year-old woman, I kid you not, started to freak out. She kept turning her phone light on saying, "Oh my gosh guys, I can't do this, I just can't." For crying out loud, grow a pair lady! It was after 9 p.m. by the time we ate dinner at Rudy's BBQ. I would fast for seven days and seven nights if it meant I got to taste more of their delicious turkey. My perfect Thanksgiving will include this turkey.

I had another food highlight during this trip, and that was eating fried alligator at the Taste of Colorado festival. We paid about $2 for a few cornmeal-breaded, fried pieces of alligator. Imagine that chicken has the texture of fish. That is alligator. The Denver Art Museum was fantastic, but I'm into that kind of a thing. I was so impressed that they had a Monet and Renoir. Dalton was a good sport about it, and seemed excited when I recommended we go to the cowboy/Native American art on the seventh floor. What a boy! I drew a lovely colored-pencil drawing of poppies while we were there and left it for a glum soul to find. We also went to the always-loved miniature golf course that spews flames out of a volcano. Oh, and don't forget the holes surrounding the crashed plane scene--also engulfed in flames.

Before this trip, I had never been so high in the sky that I could look out at the horizon and seen more than three states at one time. I could actually see the curvature of the Earth when we were standing on Pike's Peak. I mean, whoa! I saw big-horned sheep, little furry marmots and mountains stretching for hundreds of miles. At the top I got a little flavor of fall and enjoyed sipping hot chocolate and snuggling in my hoodie.

Then there are all the classic AFA parent's weekend traditions, such as accompanying Lindsay to her "astronaut class," watching the football game (live falcons, skydivers and all), watching the parade, going to BBQs (Please, don't make me eat another floppy hamburger patty!), and exploring the never-ending, cavernous buildings on campus. Imagine navigating through one building that contained every class available to every student. If someone released me into that building alone, you would find my corpse one month later. Not a joke.

While all of this was well and good, I didn't need any of it. When I'm with my family, life is better. I belong with them and they are mine forever. I am so lucky. Having Dalton with all of us feels so natural, too, like we were saving a place for him.

Kayaking With a Side of Asian Salad

My weeks are generally hectic, but I'm sure it's entirely my fault. Editing side projects, kickboxing, yoga, keeping up the house, BBQs, oh, and my full-time job, feel like just the beginning. That's why Dalton and I tentatively plan our weekends in advance to ensure that we don't let time pass without getting outside and doing fun things together. On Saturday we made a quick trip from Orem to Deer Creek Reservoir, which is about a 20-minute drive.

We parked it at Deer Creek Island Resort where they rent all different kind of boats, canoes, paddle boards, tubes, jet skis, wakeboards, and so on. We had every intention to try our luck at paddleboarding, but when our blanket wouldn't stay put on the rocky beach due to wind, we figured we may spend more time falling in the water than standing up on those boards. We settled for kayaking--one of my very favorite things to do. Let me tell you something about kayaking in strong winds: it's hard. I felt like we were trying to swim up a waterfall--not to mention how dry my eyes were since they were getting blasted by dry air. I think my contacts nearly shriveled up, so I paddled with squinted eyes. Luckily, we hardly needed to paddle back to shore. The wind took us in. 

Hopefully, I will somehow be able to predict a calm day and go back for round two.

Today, I went to a mid-week ladies-only BBQ. It was so fun to get to know the neighbors even better. Everyone was asked to bring a salad of their choice, and I refuse to be the one who brings the bowl of Miracle Whip goop. Of course, someone made potato salad and three or four people opted out by cutting up veggies and sticking them on a tray with ranch. Come on, people! Where is the fun in that? I know a lot of people like the Ramen cabbage salad, but I make mine a bit more Asian and a little less sweet. 

Keep in mind, it's best to let this sit in the fridge a few hours before serving, so plan a little bit ahead. I've done this the night before and let it sit a full 24 hours, but the noodles became a bit soggy from the dressing. You want to make sure they are coating with the dressing, but don't become limp.

What you need:

1/2 head of cabbage (chop into thin strips)

1/2 red pepper (cut into matchsticks)

1 medium zucchini (sliced thin and quartered)

1 handful of chopped broccoli

1/2 cup carrots (cut into slivers or grated)

1 package Ramen noodles (broken into small pieces)

1/2 cup green onions

Dressing:

1/4 cup soy sauce

1/4 cup apply cider vinegar

2 tablespoons water

1 teaspoon sesame oil

1 tablespoon brown sugar

1 tablespoon olive oil

Directions:

Combine all dressing ingredients together in a sauce pan, except for the olive oil. Heat the dressing until the brown sugar dissolves. Pour the dressing in a bowl or other container and let cool. 

While the dressing is cooling, prepare the vegetables and combine them in a medium-sized mixing bowl. 

Make sure you don't pour the dressing on the vegetables if it is still warm. It is best if poured at room temperature or cooler. Pour half of the cooled dressing on the vegetables and coat everything evenly. Refrigerate the salad and dressing. Before serving, pour the remaining dressing over the salad and toss.

Summer Comfort: Mountains, Biscuits and Gravy

We started on the trail about an hour before needing to strap headlamps to our foreheads. It was 10 p.m. and all I could see were shadows. We were just little specks crawling through what I knew was a colorful meadow between robust mountains, but I couldn't see any of it. In that hour I found my pace, and my body got used to the occasional burning inflicted on my muscles by the steepening grades. My pack's weight rested squarely on my hips, even digging in a little. Dalton, my husband, and Tyler, my brother, also carried; I carried food, Dalton carried the tent and Tyler carried a blanket and extra items. We didn't take much because we would only be out less than 24 hours, but people on the hike still told us we were nuts to carry anything more than snacks and water. I figured there would be plenty of water along the way to filter and refill my water bottle. I was wrong. We passed all the water at the beginning, but luckily about two hours in I found a small spring of water coming up between rocks on the path. It was so small the only way I could scoop water into my bottle was by using the cap as a cup. I shined the light on my bottle to view the murky liquid, but to my surprise it was completely transparent, or so I thought. Of course, I shook it up with an iodine tablet. Dalton tried it and said he dry heaved. I thought it tasted like a mountain--simply delicious.

The rest of the hike was much the same until we reached a valley where we pitched our tent right on top of the wildflowers. Considering I slept on my yoga mat, I was grateful for the extra padding against rocks. We slept from 12:30-4:30 a.m., ate peanut butter sandwiches and continued, all the while passing other hikers with headlamps and listening to the coyotes' cries. Slowly, it became light again, and I saw a sliver of pink orb peeking above the mountain one hundred miles behind me. When the sun spat its colors out over that mountain I was on the ridge taking photos--this is where you pause a moment before taking on the last leg of the hike. We took photo after photo in every direction: pictures of the sunset, of Utah Lake, of Heber Valley and the lingering July snow. Before long we were on our way to the very top. The difficult of the hike only increased from here. Loose rocks were everywhere, and every step seemed to be an increasingly steep stair. With our packs, every impossible switchback seemed even more impossible. Then I saw a 10-year-old boy and a mildly crippled male about my age coming back down the hill, and I decided it was all in my head. Dalton was hiking in his old Jordan basketball shoes and by this time his feet were screaming. His ankles were weakening by the minute. Luckily, he brought his ankle braces.

Yeah, we made it to the top. Did you ever doubt we would? I signed our name in the book at the top, looking all around as if I were the only person who ever accomplished this feat. Then heard a 71-year-old man say he hiked this four times per week. If you want to be a grandpa with buns of steel, this is how you do it. I had a moment standing on that peak. It was one of those moments when your lungs and mind feel clearer than they ever have. You feel real and present in this world that was created for you. I was reluctant to climb down because I reached the top and why would I want to go lower when I worked hard to be higher? Well, I did finally start heading back down, egging on my shaking knees. Once we reached the ridge again I realized the rest of this journey would be entirely different than it was coming up.

I spent the majority of our descend contemplating the symbolism all around me. I turned my headlight on at the beginning, and I thought about how I learned the gospel early in life and how it is the only thing leading the way. I thought about all the headlamps I said before me, who gave me a clearer idea of where I would end up, and I call these people my examples. Then I thought about how the hike only became more difficult until I had that final moment of victory. And when I reached that moment of victory, everything was made clear unto me. I could see for miles and miles all around. I understood where I came from and the challenges I faced. I understood how those challenges were the only way. While I considered all of these things I walked through fields of wildflowers patched with indigo, fuchsia, cream and rich yellow. The colors were more alive than I've ever seen them, like each one was new and feeding off the morning. 

I was robotic most of the way back to the car. My legs just kept going and going and going, and I'm not even sure what I was thinking about. By the time we reached the car the skin on my feet felt like it was on fire. I was hot all over and my hands were swollen from poor circulation. Needless to say, Dalton and I spent the rest of the day in our living room watching the Pirates of the Caribbean movies. 

Of course, a trek like this truly works up an appetite, so here is a really cheap, filling recipe I whip up to feed hollow stomachs. My husband swoons over biscuits and gravy, so this is my rendition: 

Biscuits:

2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons sugar
1/4 cup butter or margarine
3/4 cup milk

Gravy:

1 lb. ground sausage

2 cups frozen peas

4 tablespoons butter

3 tablespoons flour

3 cups milk

garlic salt and pepper to taste

Begin by preheating the oven to 425 degrees to bake the biscuits. Soften the butter in a mixing bowl, then mix all remaining ingredients together. Portion the mix into six large biscuits and bake for 8-10 minutes. They will look underdone, but that is how it should be! 

As the biscuits are baking, brown the ground pork. Melt the butter for the gravy in another pan. When the butter has melted, add the flour so that the mixture forms a butter paste. Add milk to the butter and flour, whisking until the butter mixture dissolves in the milk. Add garlic salt and pepper to taste. Let the gravy reach a boil and continue boiling for 2-3 minutes. 

Don't forget about the biscuits! Take them out and let them rest while finishing the gravy. By this time the pork should be fully cooked. Pour the gravy into the pan with the ground pork and add the peas. If you prefer to not add a vegetable, that's OK too. The heat will defrost the peas and cool down (thicken) the gravy. When the peas are thawed, pour the gravy in a 9x9-inch casserole dish. Place the biscuits on top. We like to sprinkle the top with cheese!

Place the dish back in the oven for 5-10 minutes, just enough for the biscuits to get slightly brown and the cheese to melt. 

Santa Cruz and Capitola: A vacation in fog

I wish I could go on road trips enough to say that it's a hobby. Some people like crafting,

others like running, but Dalton and I like discovering. Because of this, we often find ourselves in the Camry with Pandora tuned to '90s alternative, driving--whether we are driving 10 minutes or 10 hours. Dalton and I are both 23, so we don't do extravagant vacations, because we realize the whole having kids thing and paying for a house in the future will only be possible if we don't deplete our bank account. That being said, I think our getaways are just as gratifying as lounging at a 5-star resort.

Road trips are about seeing. It's about finding your place somewhere that you didn't acknowledge existed before--somewhere that is beautiful in its own uniqueness and is a place that many call home, the way you do your home. And what's better is you can have those liberating, seeing moments without breaking the bank. 

When we are on the road, I try to entertain Dalton. Sometimes, I just like asking him questions, mostly things I wouldn't think to ask otherwise. It fuels conversations that make the hours pass quickly. Click here for a list of fun questions to use on your next road trip. Usually, we read. Dalton prefers that I don't drive--I know he secretly thinks I'm bad at it--so I bring a book along and we try to get through it before we pull back into our driveway. This time we read The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, which was a lot of fun for Dalton to listen to because I was switching back and forth between Spanish and English, sometimes saying English words with Spanish vowels. I'm pretty sure there were a few Spanish swear words in the mix because Dalton would laugh, and I'd be confused. 

When we arrived in Santa Cruz I felt like the air was instantaneously mending the desert-induced cracking of my skin. I could feel the salty stickiness of the air. We stayed at the Comfort Inn Boardwalk located just two blocks from the famous boardwalk and beach. It was relatively cheap considering the prime location and free breakfast in the morning, but don't be fooled the breakfast was sketchy at best. I stuck with frosted flakes every morning because it was the only thing that didn't look like it had a grey tinge. We walked everywhere, and had easy access to the downtown trolley from a location at the end of the boardwalk where the pier begins. For 25 cents you hop on the trolley and go to Santa Cruz's shopping and dining hub. 

First, the food. We weren't let down once! We dined on the pier our first night, only choosing this spot because we were following the sound of a barking sea lion. While I love sea lions more than almost any other animal, they sure are a lot uglier up close. We decided to eat at Miramar Fish Grotto, but I was hesitant at first because it was 7 p.m. and only a few people were inside. Granted, it was a Thursday. The table was right next to an open window that looked out onto dozens of surfers riding the huge swells crashing toward the shore. It only seemed fitting that we order a huge bread bowl of clam chowder and fish 'n' chips. The bread bowl was flaky, doughy and crunchy, while the fish was crispy and not too heavy. We spent the rest of the night walking all that goodness off, just getting the lay of the land and plotting our next day. 

We started off the next day by going to Gayle's in Capitola. So many people go to this bakery/deli that you have to take a number to be helped. It was an experience, and because of their popularity they can afford to charge almost $2 for some of their cookies. Mostly, we stopped in because I'd heard about their large eclairs, and if you went to our wedding, you'll know that Dalton's only request was to have chocolate eclairs at the reception. He required nothing else. Then we stopped by Capitola beach where, again, the swells were outrageous and I so wished we had time in all of our plans to slap on wet suits. But there was too much to see in only a few days. We went in some quirky shops and saw the brightly colored houses that lined the beach. We went back to Santa Cruz before noon to check out the Boardwalk with its wooden roller coast, deep-fried Twinkies, and all. Most of the rides are more carnival-esque, but the 1920s wooden coaster was a blast, and my face in the picture at the end of the ride proved it. Well, now that I think of it, I probably looked more traumatized. My opinion about the deep-fried Twinkie is this: it is no longer identifiable as a Twinkie. The filling is no longer recognizable and the batter makes it taste more like a corndog smothered in chocolate. I nibbled it and was disappointed. 

When my brain was almost turned to mush, we lied on the beach waiting for the downtown trolley to come along. The sun only came out for 20 minutes, but it was enough to fry my white cheekbones. What is is that feels so good about snoozing in beach sand? I fell asleep listening to a 50-year-old surfer talk about his nomadic ways to passerby, saying he left his old home to live a simple life here. He has no one, and I'm not sure he had a home. But he did have a bottle of beer and his waves. The trolley finally arrived and we hopped on. A few minutes later we were unloaded in the middle of a long street lined with lowly artists making trees from recycled metal and weaving bracelets from hemp. There were book stores, candy stores, foreign goods, paper stores, eco-friendly stores. I was afraid because Dalton claims that he "doesn't like hippies." He will never willingly eat tofu, he says, or buy a Hybrid for any purpose other than saving money. He scowls at "hipster" clothing. He is funny. 

It was 3 p.m. when we remembered we realized we were starving after only tasting bits of junk food all day. We walked into what seemed to be an Irish-inspired pub/restaurant called Rosie McCann's. I had meatball soup and a Greek salad while Dalton had a calamari steak sandwich. He loved it, and I was just so-so on my meal. I didn't even touch the meatballs because I was sure they were frozen for a long period of time before. We continued to walk, finding gifts for a few of our family members and listening to a few impressive street musicians. Finally, we went back to our hotel to recuperate from all the walking, and then were at it again, walking back to the pier for more time with the sea lions and the sunset. It was unreal. The fog was so thick that the sun turned into the moon, having no rays, faint and white. Then we took a drive to last-standing natural bridge on the state-owned beach, then to "Pleasure Point." Both were majestic, but the fog made them eerie. I kept watching for a pirate ship to emerge through the sea-clouds.

Dalton and Grandma Joan, Dec. 30, 2011

It was such a peaceful getaway, though Dalton's Grandma Joan Bennett passed away unexpectedly in the middle of our trip. For me, it almost made it all the more peaceful. It was a bit solemn at times, but I often thought of her and how happy I was that she could move on from this trying life. She made me feel loved and accepted from the first day I met her. I found that it was so easy to talk to her, and she had such a genuine love for her family and her memories. After driving back through Reno to attend my brother's graduation party, we headed home to grab clothes for Monday's funeral. On that day, all of Joan's five boys were reunited after 13 years. It was exciting and beautiful to see the love and support they had for each other, even after not speaking for so long. Families are binding and true institutions of God, and I felt that. 

"Death ends a life, not a relationship." -- Mitch Albom

Mormon Mom Syndrome

Sometimes, it feels like the wife in me sprouted overnight. Honestly, I don't know when it started. Perhaps, it was the day I was born. All I know is five years ago I told my mother I would never cook. Ever, ever. My bedroom was unrecognizable at times, and I was reminded repeatedly to do my chores.

Now, all I know is this: I bake bread ... for fun.

Furthermore, I don't ever feel like it's a chore, or that I'm conforming. There is little that aggravates me more than those who belittle the modern housewife or degrade the "stereotype" of the LDS mother. My mother is the best person I know. I will be lucky to be anything like her. Believe it or not, no one is forcing me to fix dinner every night or spend Saturdays cleaning the house while Dalton does homework. I choose to do it because I enjoy it.

For those who know me, sitting mindlessly is not one of my strong suits. Well, it wasn't until I married someone who sits still very well. I'm better now, but I always need projects. Always. Many of my projects involve meal planning because I feel like I am learning skills that are prepping me for taking care of a family. I rarely make the same things twice, I rarely follow recipes step by step and I'm getting dang good at ad-matching and couponing. I usually save $40-$50 on my shopping trips! Since I graduated Dalton and I have saved thousands more than we could have otherwise.

Sure, we could go on more extravagent dates and buy toys and clothes we don't really need, but honestly, the low-cost things we find to do together are way better than ideal luxuries. Within the past two months we've had two Monday holidays begging to be filled with adventure. While I would rather go exploring in New Zealand or Greece, I'm working with what I have--the Uintah Mountains and quirky cities only a short drive away.

Thanks to Martin Luther King Jr., we began his birthday celebration with free massages. I realize this is a luxury few people have, including me. Did I mention I love working at a massage school? A free one-hour massage every weekend? Yes, please! Luckily, I didn't get pulled over for being massage drunk on my way to Park's Sportsmen in Orem. This is where I rent snowshoes when we need to get out in the fresh air, but it's cold as an igloo outside. I'm sure I could find a less expensive place to rent them, but I'm all about supporting locally-run businesses. I think it was just under $20 to rent two pair for a full day. Oh, and an additional bonus: national parks are free holidays! Well, I think they are. At least they were for us. We had so much fun taking photos of the gorgeous scenery and even saw some daring snowboarders cruise down a slope through some trees and manage to skim across the top of a reservoir without falling in. If you want to save money on recreation, start liking the outdoors.

Is it camping season yet? I'm craving dirt, bug spray and campfire smell.

This past Monday was President's Day, a day I am also grateful for because Dalton and I needed a Valentine's Day date, because Valentine's Day hardly existed at all. You know, we work and he goes to school and stuff. I was searching around online Monday morning for something fun to do, and behold!--I came across the Heber Valley Train's website. For those of you unfamiliar with this century-old train, it is commonly referred to as the "Heber Creeper." It wasn't creepy at all! It was $10 for both of us to enjoy the 90-minute ride. Yes, we endured singing YMCA with a hurd of hyper 6-year-olds, but we got into it. The train conductor could have been my great-grandfather and he wore a spiffy conductor's suit. I could have picked him and his white hair out of a model train. We drove past Deer Creek reservoir where people were ice-fishing, and thanks to those brave souls standing out on the lake, I now know what my next winter adventure will be. I hope the ice will stay long enough for me to give it a whirl.

We ate in Heber as well at the Dairy Keen. The name is bizarre to me, but the place was flooded with people and we only spent $15 on two shakes, a burger, fries, a drink, half of a turkey sub and a cup of soup.

In other news, we found an apartment! Hopefully, the people living in it now follow through on their end. It's absolutely perfect for us and basically fell in our laps. My sister Lindsay is going to stay with us during her spring break and Dalton's family is coming to stay in just a few weeks for a gymnastics meet.

A very married birthday

Remember when celebrating your birthday really felt like it was all about you? Everyone comes over just to watch you take a deep breath and blow candles out. Of course, I'm sure many were more excited about the sugar coma and bashing a giant donkey with a bat until he oozed Bubbalicious, but some of them genuinely just wanted to be there and celebrate life with you.

Honestly, birthdays aren't so fun anymore, unless you take them seriously. And I don't mean act like a real tightwad, I mean make them memorable! I think it's important to realize making memories takes a measurable amount of planning, and Dalton and I both want to create memories for our family that are meaningful. So, we decided Saturday would be the day of celebration since Monday would undoubtedly be a sorry attempt.

Ever since the Da Vinci exhibit opened at The Leonardo museum we've wanted to go. I mean, who wouldn't? Da Vinci invented almost everything worth having before we even had the proper technology to do it. Dalton is a geek at heart, so freaking out about life-size wooden models of Da Vinci's sketches felt the most natural way to celebrate Dalton's birth. In case those of you reading haven't been to The Leonardo, it used to be Salt Lake City's old library, and in addition to the traveling exhibits they have art projects, stuff to make stop-motion films, and Utah inventions, such as the television and Frisbee.

I'm sure you can all guess what comes next. What do we always do when we have something to be happy about? We eat raw fish. We usually go to Sushi House, but since we were in the neighborhood we hit up Simply Sushi for all-you-can eat where Dalton ate almost five rolls. Yes, five. I will never forget the first time he ate sushi in Reno and hated it. Now, we eat out less so that we can afford to eat sushi more often. We weren't quit ready to go home yet, so we stopped at the $3 theater a few blocks from our house to watch Red Dawn. It was SO bad by the way, but I didn't care because I got to sit really close to my favorite guy in the whole world.

On Dalton's actual birthday I woke up at 6:30. My mind dragged my body into the kitchen where I assembled a tiny batch of pancakes that I buttered, sprinkled powdered sugar on and covered in a perfect layer of maple syrup. I had a few kiwis lying around so a sliced them and lined the plate edges with them. I was impressed by my abilities at that hour. I woke him up singing happy birthday, even though he couldn't really see me since his glasses weren't on. Part of him probably wanted to strangle me, but he liked his pancakes, so everything was gravy.

Afterward, Dalton got ready for work and headed out. I went to the store to get some things for the week, as well as Dalton's favorite Funfetti cake mix with matching frosting. Just to cap off the sprinkle theme I bought some Circus Animals to decorate. You had better believe I put two of the llama crackers on the top of the cake kissing. I feel partially ashamed I didn't make him a cake from scratch, but honestly, I just couldn't worry about it. I left the cake out by all of his other favorite things--orange Gatorade, Chex Mix, Reese's Pieces, Milk Duds, etc. I think he came home and was happy.

I know that down the road life will continually get more and more hectic, but I am promising myself that no celebration will ever be lost. I know my life is too magnificent and beautiful to be treated as if it is ordinary, because in my eyes it isn't. It's exactly as it should be and I want to celebrate every minute of it that I can!

A Chile, Chile New Year

Now that we've treaded through a week of our normal lives after a much needed getaway, I'm looking back feeling like our holiday in South America was just a dream. It's a good thing we have almost 1,000 pictures, the remnants of a solid tan and some Frugele (Chilean gummies) in the kitchen candy jar, to refresh our memories.

Let me cover the basics about Chile as I see it.

1. No one, I repeat, no one wakes up before 9 a.m.
2. Chileans eat far too much for lunch, however, that is basically their fuel until the next day at lunch. If you want to eat after 2 o'clock lunch, you can have bread and hot beverages during "Once" -- which is like a late-night tea.
3. Yes, Chile peppers are spicy, however, no one in Chile enjoys spicy food. In fact, they think it's a tragedy. Chileans believe everything that goes in your mouth should be smothered in avocado, mayo, fried eggs, etc. We didn't eat out every meal, but when we did, each restaurant started us out with sopaipillas or small portions of bread with what I recognized as mild, mild pico de gallo.
4. Many earn a living by juggling in front of cars at stop lights.
5. When someone honks at you, it doesn't necessarily mean "move your behind," or, "you suck at driving." There is an entire honking language Americans are unaware of.

There are millions in Santiago who live in poverty, but the city is extremely Americanized. We visited a 5 story mall, bought groceries at a store called Jumbo which looked a lot like a Walmart and their metro system is phenomenal. The buildings went on and on and on. Big cities all over the world are very much the same--the taxi drivers all went to the same driving school and homeless people like to beg with a dog to make passersby at least pity the dog if not themselves.

There are many things about this trip I will never forget, but a few simple moments will always stick out in my mind.

1. We took the metro to a more sketchy part of town--where Dalton served most of his mission--and sadly, we don't have any photos. We were afraid we might get mugged! We met four of the beautiful families who love Dalton so much for what he did in their wards. I will never forget the expressions on the faces of twin brothers Dalton taught as they watched us drive into the parking lot. Their faces lit up as they ran down the stairs to us. I couldn't speak well to them, but they both ran up and gave me hugs and kisses on the cheek, like Chileans do. All the people we met there had such sweet spirits about them, and while I hardly knew them, I felt so loved. Their box-like houses were all connected and decorated on the inside with Christmas knick-knacks in the 90-degree weather. Each of them offered us drinks, papaya soda, Coke and Sprite. They just run around the block to fill up their refillable Coke bottles. The last family we saw was so much fun to be with. Ana started talking to me on Facebook when Dalton was still there! She told me not to marry someone else, but to marry Dalton. It was so nice to finally give her a big hug and see her big grin--minus a few teeth. I immediately loved her.

2. New Year's Eve was unlike anything I've ever seen. We bought Dalton a gold hat and tie, and me a sparkly gold mask. Every few feet a vendor was selling silly string, sprayable snow, poppers, confetti, even shredded paper to throw in the air. We stood behind this little family in the middle of a downtown street and watched thousands of balloons and a few Chinese lanterns float into the hazy night. It was beautiful. Latin music was pounding in my chest and I was laughing hysterically at the little kids in front of me. The older brother sprayed an entire can of shaving cream on his little brother's face and it hung their like an overgrown tumor. Another vendor came up to our little group and started dancing with us while the rest of the Chileans chanted "Chi, chi, chi, le, le, le, viva Chile!" And when the clock struck 12 p.m., hands for miles were thrown up in the air and shouts echoed all around. Finally, after four years, I got a Newe Year's kiss from my love. Last year, right after we got married, we accidentally fell asleep before we could ring in the New Year. Whoops.

3. The Andes Mountains are full of surprises. It felt like we drove 10 hours to reach our destination, but it was only 3, or so. We drove for more than 30 minutes of dirt road to reach the start of the hiking trail down to "the 7 cups" which I guess could also be translated as "the 7 bowls." We hiked from the top of a slowly downward flowing waterfall to the very bottom. Once we could to the bottom of the waterfall, we had to hike toward it over hundreds of boulders. At the top of the trail the water falls were small. Each of the first 6 waterfalls flowed into a small pool that connected to the next, but at the bottom we saw the last waterfall, about 50 feet tall, spread itself into the clearest and coldest secluded pool. Dalton and I couldn't help but strip down to minimal clothing and jump in. We knew it would be chilly, but weren't expecting the electric shock of cold that shot up our spines into our heads. I was in hysterics trying to swim to the other side. I was so cold I couldn't do anything but laugh until I nearly drown.

I'm pretty sure Dalton is making this squinty face in 75 percent of the pictures we took. Learning to hold your eyes open for pictures on bright days is a talent he has yet to develop.

Truthfully, I could probably write a paragraph as long as the previous three about everything we did. I feel so lucky to have these beautiful memories. But there is only one negative thing about traveling: it's addicting. Recently, we've been looking at cruises to Hawaii. Oh, dear.