Tuesday, August 23, 2011

A Digest of our very big trip.

Here we are hiking Independence Rock in Colorado. Booker added a few solid extra pounds to make this moderate hike extremely difficult. He was quite happy, though, "Blah, muah, ma"-ing the whole way. I would be too if I got to be transported in such a slick pack.


At Bear Lake in Utah: you're lookin' at four generations of good, family-loving genes.
This photo should be paired with a favorite mama/baby dance song. Which can be watched here. We love Solange and her really tight dress.

Great Grandpa Genius (His name is Gene. An older cousin, Roan, gave him this name. I believe it will stick.)


Uncle Dallas. Booker was a little fascinated with the pretty drawings all over his skin. He tried to pick them off.

Upside down in Tia Lindsey's strong, safe arms.


My dad, his grandpa.

Again: upside down.




A fun trick.



From Bear Lake we rolled into Salt Lake City for a couple of days, one of which we spent doing SERIOUS thrift shopping with my aunt Lori and brother bear, Dallas. You see, over the past several months I have been gathering and collecting the threads of yesteryear's children. I'll soon be opening an Etsy shop where I will be making these fanciful treasures available to the world!

A few other favorites we saw in Utah. We stuck to the...unique:

Gilgal:



The next stop was the Daughters of Utah Pioneers. They didn't allow cameras, but they did allow massive amounts of framed hair art. I fell in love with this AMAZING artistically genius concept. Josh, on the other hand, was dry heaving:

The framed art here is all made of twisted, knotted, braided hair! To make pretty things like flowers and trees.

This one is not actually in the museum--we wouldn't dare violate the Pioneer Daughters' trust-- but you can get an idea of what this wildness is.

(Other items from the museum not pictured)
"The smallest pitcher made by a deaf Mexican boy." Actual text.
Two-headed lamb.
Human baby skull.
A wreathe made entirely of all the early LDS church leaders' hair.
A complete replica of the Salt Lake City Temple made of sugar cubes.
And much, much more.

It was a rich trip.

The last leg of our mighty trip took us to the Lake of the Ozarks in Missouri. Josh's dad used his fine ability to craft these balloon-propelled boats. While we didn't get to race them (none of the moms wanted wet kids in their cars on the way home), Booker's sits proudly on the shelf in his room.


A treasure hunt, arranged and carried out by Josh.


The very scary pirate--with Goofy ears--guarding the buried treasure. The kids were an unbreakable team when it came to following the map, but when it came to dividing the booty, they initially didn't understand why each item wasn't individually designated for each hunter. Holding true to the traditional concept of buried treasure (mostly because of the lack of forethought), it became more of a free-for-all. In the end, all these buccaneers were happy.



Unfortunately, Booker did not make it in this photo of all the Downs' grandchildren. He was sleeping off a sinus infection. But what a bunch of cuties!


Aside from the carpeted restroom and a few sick members of this family, the second leg of this trip was a success. And now we're home. Safe, and happy, and home.


One more goody. A trick.

Monday, August 15, 2011

Warm Fuzzies.

What to do when I post 40 jars of handed-me-down baby food meat in little, watery jars (for Booker: I have a policy that I won't feed him anything I wouldn't eat. Except breast milk. I won't eat that.) to Freecycle, and I get two people who could "really use it"? Here's the actual text: you be the judge:

Freecycler 1: "I really need them there's a lot of single moms at church and they have small children if you can hold them for tomorrow morning I can go and pick them up."

Convincing. And...

Freecycler 2: "I would like to ask for your consideration - this is not for myself but for a friend who has a cat with cancer and the only way she can get the cat to take the medication is to put it in meat baby food. If you are willing to let me take it for this purpose, I am sure she will be most grateful."

Final decision: I split it. Single moms get 25 jars, and the cat with cancer will get 15. Lucky cat. I earned my warm fuzzy for the day.