The Hiking Hint

     When I was fourteen years old, my family spent a week at Philmont Scout Ranch in New Mexico. While my parents and siblings stayed in camp attending classes, doing crafts and other activities, my older sister and I opted to take a week-long backpacking trek through Philmont’s wilderness backcountry. 

It sounded like a fun adventure: hike a few miles every day, cook outdoor meals, watch campfire programs at night, and do some rock-climbing and rappelling—nothing we couldn’t handle.  In fact, we were exhilarated about a week in the mountains. 

We said a cheerful “goodbye” to the rest of our family and boarded the bus that would take us to our drop-off point.  My heart pounded with anticipation.  The bus rolled to a stop and we jumped out, grabbed our gear and looked up—at a huge hill.  The first mile of our trek seemed to stretch straight up from where we stood!  Biting our tongues, we set out. It was hard!  Our forty-pound packs weighed us down and the sun beat on our backs. When we reached the crest of the first hill, another one loomed before us. This was one, big mountain! After what seemed like ages, we begged our ranger to let us take a break. 

“No,” she said, “We’re just getting started.” 

Confessions of a CEO

I am a CEO.  I manage the personal schedules, finances, needs and lives of twelve people.  (Well, almost twelve.  My husband manages his own--most of the time.)

For me, like any other CEO, it’s all about the numbers.

Yesterday I did 20 minutes of aerobic exercise, read 26 verses of scripture, made breakfast for ten people, packed six lunches, sent eight people out the door, washed one batch of dishes, did three loads of laundry, read a story to two preschoolers, and freshened up five bathrooms--all before 10am! Those sound like pretty good stats to me.

I then drove to the store and spent exactly 50% of my monthly grocery budget on 45 meals. I saved $12 buying non-brand products, and $10 of next month’s grocery money buying butter on sale. (Did I mark that in the notebook?)  I also set aside cash for two weeks of piano lessons and tumbling fees (due tomorrow).

PRESCHOOL 2020-21

Welcome to Homegrown Preschool! 

I am excited to offer preschool again this fall! After five successful years of teaching in Kaysville, I look forward to another wonderful preschool group in 2020-21. My purpose in teaching preschool is to create a fun and personal learning opportunity for the students and to provide financial support for my missionary sons and daughters.

I will accept registration for up to eight students for the 2020-21 school year. Students must be Fall 2021 Kindergarten eligible and be fully potty-trained.

Making Magic

     Harry Potter is magical; but nothing beats the magic of Christmas with children.  Twelve people, one house, two weeks off of school, cookies, lights, trees, music, and snow falling softly outside the window.  It’s the perfect concoction for warm memories.

When I was in 5^th grade, I questioned Christmas magic.  Most of my friends told me that Santa wasn’t real.  I finally approached my Dad about the subject.  After a few silent moments, he read, “Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus,” to me.  Then he taught me a wonderful lesson about the magic of Christmas. 

Magic doesn’t just happen.  Magic is made.  Just as Harry Potter had to learn he had magical powers, parents and families can create warmth and magic in their homes.  At our house, we make magic as early as possible.  Christmas caroling, twelve red stockings hanging by the fireplace, homemade gingerbread houses, and a secret Twelve Days of Christmas.  Too much celebrating?  I don’t think so.

Tree Trauma - Our First Christmas in Wyoming

When we moved from Las Vegas, Nevada to Casper, Wyoming in 2009, I was thrilled to start a new life of simplicity in the “wild” west. As we packed our belongings, I put our plastic Christmas tree into the donation pile. 

“We won’t need a fake tree in Casper,” I confidently told my surprised children. “There’s a mountain there and we’ll just cut down our own tree.” In my mind I pictured our first Wyoming Christmas, driving “over the river and through the woods,” to select the perfect Christmas tree.

As our first Thanksgiving approached, I reminded my husband that we no longer owned a Christmas tree. 

“We’re Wyomingites now!” I told him in a patriotic tone. “We’ll cut down our own tree.” Dutifully, he drove to the BLM office and purchased a permit.

“It only cost $7!” he reported jubilantly when he returned home. “What a deal!” He showed me the permit and the map of designated tree cutting areas. Words like “Shirley Basin” and “Medicine Bow” were new to us, but they didn’t look too far away on the map, so we weren’t worried.

The day after Thanksgiving we bundled our eight children--including two infant twins--into the family van. Our spirits were high and we sang carols as we drove. However, our happy “over the river” singing soon drifted into silence as we drove out of town and around Casper Mountain. 

Keep Calm and Scout On

Last month the National Board of the Boy Scouts of America voted unanimously to open their Cub Scout and Boy Scout programs to girls, beginning in 2018 and 2019 respectively.

Predictably, the predictable media immediately jumped on the story, predictably reporting that major changes had come to the BSA, that the long-time Scouting movement as we know it was gone, and that the non-profit organization had made the move in desperation for money. Anyone could have predicted that response. 

Additionally, naysayers gleefully declared that Scouting was finally dead, the century-old organization now altered beyond repair, and that this faithful entity of America had at last met its demise.

As a 30-year Scouting member myself, and after 20 years of being married to a professional Scout executive, I feel that I must speak out and clarify what these changes mean and why I still think Scouting is relevant and needed.

If one looks past the predictable media and the ever-present critics of good, the changes made by the National Board actually deserve a levelheaded review.

Wisdom From A Witch

I’m a witch. I just need to admit it, and then I’ll feel better about myself. I didn’t mean to be a witch. When I was a little girl, I was kind and gentle, meek and happy. Then I went to college. I was kind and gentle, meek and happy. Then I got married. I was kind and gentle, meek and happy. Then, I had children, and a witch was born. (Not the baby, it was me.)