Little Cottonwood Canyon

<-- Photo credit: One of my kids took this on our way out of the canyon.

 This evening, we went to the Temple Quarry Nature Trail at the base of Little Cottonwood Canyon to pick plant samples for my son's school class. I love living close to canyons. Despite the mosquitoes, it was fun to take a nature walk. I love that my children are learning about Utah. This place matters to me.

Dragonfly

We spent the day at Lagoon.  I was pleasantly surprised by all the dragonflies.  They are fascinating insects.  I like the blue ones best, but this one stayed still for a while.

Blue Lights

Just for these I think it's worth it to visit Juicy Berry Frozen Yogurt Lounge at the Gateway in SLC. But they don't stay blue which some people might like even more.  I like the blue. We didn't try the yogurt, but I hear it's good.  Next time.

Sunrising

Remembering What Happened

It's been eight weeks, but I finally, vividly, remember what happened on June 28th, 2011:  the day of my fall. It was such a brief moment with consequences that will continue to affect me for months to come.

Here's what happened:  As I was hurrying out the front door, my right foot caught in between the slats of the wooden front door mat.  I tried to catch my balance with quick-moving steps, but I couldn't stop. The increased momentum along with gravity forced me to fly down the porch steps and land on the sidewalk.

Obviously, I knew I fell off the porch.  But I couldn't remember how or why.  It all happened so quickly.  It came back as I was walking out my front door early this morning.  My foot slightly caught in the slats.  I was going slowly, so it was no big deal.  I didn't even start to fall.  But all of a sudden, I remembered.  Needless to say, that mat is no longer on our front porch.

Online, right before we bought this house, I saw a similar mat painted in rainbow colors. I thought it was so cute and was pleased the sellers left the mat so I could paint it. I'm not so sure about that anymore.  If I do keep the mat, I'm not leaving it anywhere near a porch. Maybe I'll paint it as a reminder to slow down.  Or it could be a reminder that small mistakes can lead to huge, life-changing consequences.

Thankfully, not all the consequences of that mistake are bad. I've learned a lot through this experience. I'm thankful that poor choices and tragedies can be turned into powerful learning experiences.

Hardware X 2

"Looks like you're stiff," said Dr. R. at my appointment this afternoon.

"I've been stiff since my accident," I responded.  That happened eight weeks ago, tomorrow.  Surgery was four weeks ago.

"'Stiff' is just another name for 'plateaued,'" he said.

In other words, I haven't made measurable progress in the two weeks since he saw me last. Discouraging. He said I also have calcium deposits forming which are "typical of this kind of injury."  They may or may not have to be surgically removed in four months or so.

The good news is, today, I got up the courage to ask for a print out of my pretty hardware: two screws in the lower left humerus. Here's a picture of the print out.

Old Rhod

We lived in Washington State for one year right on the western coast near the islands of the Puget Sound.  One of our favorite places to go visit was a rhododendron garden.  We enjoyed its hundreds of bushes with their bright happy blossoms

I'm pretty sure this bush-tree in our back yard is an old rhododendron.  I've posted pictures of it on this blog in the recent past.  Until it bloomed, I thought it was a tree because it's tall and its base is fat.

Finding beauty in nature: today my husband reminded me that it's one of my chosen talents.  So on this dark evening, I went out and picked some beauties, put them in a candy dish we received for our wedding, and went back inside to hunt for light bright enough that I wouldn't need a flash.  I found a lot of shadows.  Once again, I wished for steadier hands and a better camera.

Morning Walk

 He's patient with me.

I was trying to take a picture of the mountains from the road.

He suggested we climb a hill.

I'm grateful.

I wonder if he regretted his suggestion.

Eventually he said,

"I think it's time to go back."

But on the way down, I couldn't resist.
I had to stop and take a picture of the sunflower.

Somebody Else

Some days, I get discouraged and depressed.  

The door to my secret garden is blocked by thorny vines and guarded by small biting creatures.

The road is too long, too hilly, and too cracked.

I wonder if it's too late-- like I've failed already-- so why try?

I feel so alone.

Some days, I wish I was somebody else.

I know those feelings are ungrateful.

I know my dreams don't have to die.

I know that not trying is the only failure.

I know I shouldn't give up.

I know I have it better than many.

I know I'm not alone.

But some days, I still wish I was somebody else.

Nasturtiums

One of my favorite kinds of flowers is the nasturtium.  They are bright, happy blooms that have cool round leaves and are edible with a mild spicy flavor.  Finally, the ones we planted in our yard are blooming.

The first time I ate a nasturtium was at my parents' home.  My mom likes them too.  They enliven a salad, are pretty frozen in water and then plopped to float in a drink, and they make a fun, fresh table decoration.


This afternoon, I encouraged my son to taste one.  He wasn't terribly impressed.  My nephew ate the rest of it quickly and confidently since he remembered he likes them.


My favorite memory of nasturtiums happened while we were living in Leiston, England.  Leiston is a small village on the east coast of England near the North Sea.  Frequently, my husband and I walked with our baby daughter around the countryside on old footpaths to the abbey ruins and through fields of flowers.  One day, while we walked near the middle of the village, we discovered a beautiful foothpath lined with trees that grew together overhead to make a long, low green tunnel. Wild nasturtium vines with blooming red, yellow, and orange blossoms wove everywhere along the side of the path beneath the trees.  I'd never before seen so many nasturtiums nor seen them growing on vines.  Butterflies, bees, and birds zipped along the flowers and darted in front of us.  Our baby girl toddled ahead trying to catch butterflies while we held hands and walked behind her.  Pure serenity.

Suburban Farm Park

 It's not just a working farm with sheep, horses, goats, pigs, turkeys, rabbits, cows, and chickens.  It has atmosphere. On a very large piece of property right off of 9th East and I-215 is a place called Wheeler Farm.  Many, old, beautiful trees line walkways around large expanses of mowed grass and gardens where loose chickens, ducks, wild geese and pigeons feed and wander.  Big old barns, old historical buildings, and a farm equipment museum are also on the property.  There are picnic tables, restrooms, a party barn, a community building, a pavilion, and most recently an amazing two-story, fort-like playground with a huge slide.

It's not "just a farm."  It's more like a really great park.  It's not just for kids.  It's a place to exercise, walk, and think.  It's a place of community and seasonal celebrations.  And it's all free unless you take a wagon ride into the wilder side--I think that's 2 dollars a person-- or for some holiday events, or if you want to reserve the big building for a wedding or the pavilion for a group picnic.  But there are plenty of things to do for free and plenty of room to do it in.

Last night after dinner and before a movie, we went there to walk .  We should have stayed and skipped the movie.  Monday morning with the kids, I'll go back-- assuming I can get them up early enough. When I tell them about the new playground, I think they'll be motivated.

Pink!

I admire her bravery and love the color.