Horsetooth

Perfect

We woke up late. Got a little work done. Made ham and cheese paninis for lunch with the family. Lemonade popsicles. Packed up the Excursion and drove to the other side of town. Hiked. Swam. Laughed. Napped. Burgers on the grill. Movie.

Later that night, Brock and I were sitting out on my family's deck watching the stars flickering over the valley. "There's this great line from War and Peace," he said, "where Tolstoy describes the stars as whispering to each other."

He paused for a moment. "This really has been the perfect day."

Homewrecker

Email from Grandma Thomas:

"I hear you watched the game with the whole family. Glad to know you were all together. I love you all soooooo much. Give Brock a hug. He is second only to Jimmer on my 2nd marriage go-round....I have to wait until Gene bites the big one! Darn. You be good to Brock though keep him happy with Thomases until I'm free....Then you will have to worry.....a lot!!!! You can keep Mojo!"

Brock's retort: "Yeah, Kristi, you better be nice to me or else I'm running away with Grandma. What's that? Why am I not smelling crackling bacon on this beautiful Sunday morning? Grandma would make me bacon."

I guess marriage was fun while it lasted. Have at it, Granny.

Feelin' The Love

Have I told any of ya'll how much I love my husband lately?

BECAUSE I DO.

I love him because he makes grocery shopping at SuperTarget on a Friday night really fun.

I love him because he was willing to go all the way to West Valley (aka Utah Compton) with me to visit a mosque on Saturday. And when we arrived late and had to wait two hours until the next prayer, he didn't mind.

I love him because he even makes wandering around in a Rite Aid fun. (Seriously, there is nothing to do in WV.)

I love him because he is fearless and will strike up a conversation with anybody. A Pakistani cab driver, a Somalian, a Sikh, the teenager taking our order at Wendy's, whoever.

I love him because he told me I look cute in a hijab.

I love him because he took me out to The Pie.

I love him because he plays guitar and sings for my grandma.

I love him because he hates Sunday School.

I love him because he didn't get mad at me when he could totally tell I was fibbing about that new bag I bought this week. "Oh, this? I've had it forever..."

I love him because he laughed when guilt overtook me and I confessed that I'd bought it online a week ago.

I love him because he brought me a mug of Swiss Miss to help me start studying.

I love him because he's the one downstairs studying right now, and I'm...blogging.

I love him because he always finds something about me to love, even on days when I'm not that lovable.

I love him because he's quite the auctioneer.

I love him because he buys Western Family single-blade razors ("It was 20 razors for a DOLLAR!") and expects not to nick himself. (For the record, he did. Like eleven times.)

I love him because he throws me the most random compliments. "I really like your nose! You have cute arms!"

I love him because he lets Mojo snuggle with him.

I love him because this weekend was wonderful.

Seriously?? You might as well shave with a butter knife.

Presh.

For the Beauty of the Earth

Yesterday after work, Brock and I headed out for a backpacking trip in the Uintas. It was divine. Definitely the most idyllic getaway we've ever taken . . . and it was free!

After grabbing some fuel (read: a frosty and chicken nuggets) at Wendy's, we set off into the wild blue yonder with our packs and Mojo. On a run together last week, we saw the most beautiful campsite. It was high up in the mountains with no other campsites around, the ground was flat and mostly soft dirt (perfect for a tent), there was a great firepit and a natural source of pure mountain water that burbled up from the ground twenty feet away. Right when we saw this place, we knew we had to come back.

As one might expect, you don't get to a place this ideal without a haul. It's about four miles up the mountain, and 3.5 of those are uphill. No exaggeration. Add a 30-pound pack on your shoulders, and you've got quite the workout. We were a little worried that the campsite would be taken, but when we rolled in at sunset we were delighted to see that that wasn't the case :) I dropped my pack and set off into the woods to look for firewood while Brock set up camp. When I got back, we made a fire and heated up a can of thick, meaty chipotle chili for dinner. I am quite sure that NOTHING in this world tastes better than chili on a cool night after hours of hiking. We topped off our meal with s'mores (of course), washed up, and crawled into our tiny two-person tent.

It was a beautiful, cloudless night, so we didn't even put the rain cover on. This allowed us to gaze up at the stars through the mesh ceiling, and watch the bats flying overhead. The moon was beautiful and bright. We stayed up late talking about nothing, and right as we were about to drift off, we noticed a certain someone shivering at our feet. Being the sweetheart that he is, Brock let Mojo crawl into his sleeping bag. Mojo nuzzled right up to him and was asleep within minutes. Our lullaby was the breeze rustling through the aspens and the soft burble of the stream.

We woke up to birds chirping in the morning, and had cereal and OJ for breakfast. I'd stuck the milk and OJ in the stream the night before to keep them cold . . . another perk about having that cold, fresh mountain water so close! After eating, I headed out for a run while Brock broke camp. I went out for about an hour and it was breathtaking. The sun was streaming through the meadows below Mt. Timpanogos, and I felt like I had the whole mountain to myself.

I returned to camp to the sight of Brock laying down in the shade reading a book with Mojo by his side. We brushed our teeth, washed up (moist towelettes...LOVE 'EM), and headed back to civilization.

Not a bad way to start the weekend :)

Here's a photo album chock full of pictures...enjoy!

Ode to the 'Jo

My dog is rad. Mojo has the best personality: The perfect mix of playful, chill, and quirky. Plus, he's really smart, obedient and loves to cuddle. Initially, Brock wanted to name him Optimus Prime (Transformers had just come out). For some reason, the name just didn't fit a cute, cuddly half-poodle, so we compromised and settled on Mojo (which was the name of Shia LaBeof's dog in Transformers).

I don't really know why I'm doing this post. I guess I'm just feeling extra grateful for my pooch today.

Picking up Mojo from the airport! He was born February 9th, 2008 in Missouri. We found him online (puppyfind.com) and his breeder was the nicest lady. 

He loved playing with this monkey toy. It was torn to shreds within two weeks!

He even pees cute.

Sometimes he'd get stuck under his bed and couldn't figure out how to escape.

So he would scurry around the room turtle-style and bump into furniture to free himself. Too funny!

A bad haircut. Mojo obviously isn't happy about it.

Sleeping on the drive home from California. He'd rather sleep in a terribly uncomfortable position near us than have the entire back seat to himself away from us. Such a sweetheart.

Pals :)