Fireworks and dogs

On Pioneer Day morning I walked around Oquirrh Lake.



It's a nice walk when I don't have time to get to the canyons.

This time, there was a non-leashed dog wandering about.  Eventually, she started following me, which I encouraged by whistling for and praising her.  I didn't know where the owners were, but figured I could either find them after my whole circuit of the lake or check the dog's collar and make the connection that way.

She was a good dog.  Eager to please, and also eager to chase ducks.  Eventually, we made it all around the lake without finding anyone who knew the dog, but plenty of people who seemed please to see her.  At least one of those people wasn't so pleased, because that person called the Daybreak rent-a-cops who sent someone along to chastise me for having an off-leash dog.

Back at the beginning, I checked Emma's collar and found out her name was Emma and that she had a phone number.  I called.  "Do you know Emma?" I asked.  Yes, she knew Emma and had been looking for her overnight.  Fireworks set off in the neighborhood the night before had scared her to the point of taking off when she was out to tinkle.  She ended up about a mile away from home and across Bangerter Highway.

It was a nice reunion when Mom showed up to get Emma, who was thrilled to see her.

Oi--society!

I just got back from the hot tub.

I discovered while I was in Cancun that one thing I appreciate in life is modesty.  No thanks on the skimpy bikinis, thanks.  I think that makes even beautiful women look cheap.

And it's worse on twelve-year-olds.  They really shouldn't wear such things.  Their parents really shouldn't buy them.  There are men that aren't me, who would find such things titillating--is that what their parents are going for?

I unfortunately could also hear these girls talking, complaining about living in "Troy's house," and quoting Troy saying to their mother, "Smack that ass."  Oh, okay.  That explains something about the outfit.

And then the girls stand there with their arms folded over their bare torsos.  The boys (who wear perfectly reasonable bathing suits, thank you) asked why girls always stood like that.  "Because we think we're fat."

First, these girls were eighty pounds with their hair soaking wet from the pool, and second, why the string bikini, then?

More family magic

I went to Idaho for the fourth of July.  My sister lives in Idaho Falls.  After a day there, it is very clear to me why the Eternal plan we're part of is a family-centered one.

There's a connection that comes with family, even extended parts of it.  The love I feel for my nieces and nephews amazes me, and I'm sure it's dwarfed by the feelings of their parents for them.

My sisters in-laws, whom I've met but am not close to, were around for the holiday.  Big family get-together at the park.  The whole group probably had close to two dozen children.

There's no reason for that group of individuals to get together except for the fact that they're family.  And I don't know, but if they're like any other family, there's baggage they overcome in order to get together and be nice.

But I think that's the point.  Family is so close and has such potential for love and joy, but is still full of imperfect, sinful people who hurt themselves and each other.  I think that hurt can be exacerbated by the fact that the pain comes when there should be such love and devotion.

But that's the lesson, I think.  Forgiving family has the greatest potential to show us the fruits of real forgiveness, because no matter the pain, the disloyalty, or the betrayal, forgiving one's family means that all the same potential for love and joy is still there.  And choosing forgiveness lets you experience that, while holding grudges means you won't.

Just like the big plan.

Family magic

I saw Brave last weekend.  Opening Day, actually, at a matinee, in a theater full of children with their moms, and sometimes dads.  And that was appropriate, because the movie and the experience afterwards reinforced the importance of family.

I'm not going to give away a secret about the movie, or I'm going to try not.  If you've seen the preview (if not...)

 

then you know that the movie is about a Scottish princess who tries to change her fate because her parents want her to get married to one of three Scottish goofballs.

To get out of this, the princess, Merida, does something that turns out to be horrible for her family. It's an accident, of sorts, but a selfish and horrible one.

Yet the mother's reaction in the movie is just what I'd expect from a mother.  She doesn't hold a grudge, and even though she's justifiably angry, she spends the movie obviously loving her daughter, growing closer to her, and helping solve the problem Merida created.  The film isn't quite as good as some of the best Pixar movies, but the message is.

And then after the movie I went to the restroom.  You should know, at this point, that when guys use urinals we just pull down whatever covers our bottom half just far enough to take care of business.  At least, we learn to do that over time.  When I was in elementary school, I once dropped trou all the way down in the boys' room in sort of a "feast your eyes" moment, though the intention was just to pee.  I got laughed at by enough older boys (one would have been enough) that I never made that mistake again.

Well, there was a wee lad in the men's room at the theater who made the same error, and both halves of the moon were showing as I entered.  But this laddie's older brother, seeing his brother's predicament, went and stood guard behind him, so that his backside was protected from strangers' eyes.  Then after the older brother lifted him up to reach the soap and sink to wash his hands.


Family creates the kind of bond that makes otherwise young and immature people do simple and selfless things.


It's no wonder that life on Earth is a family-centered plan.

Hikes

Utah is just a fantastic place for being close to the city and also close to some of the best mountains in the world.  In a single weekend you can get pictures like this.

This first set is on the way to Red Pine Lake up Little Cottonwood Canyon. Running water may be the best sound Earth makes, and I love to walk along it on gorgeous days like last Saturday.  The snow was melting and running down, though as you'll see below, not quite enough of it had completed its journey.

The first part of this hike is steepish and rocky.  Good news is that there aren't bikers, but the bad news is that it's as hard on knees and ankles as it would be on tires.  After you hit the first creek run, you can go one of two ways.  I went toward Red Pine Lake.  On the way you see the mouth of the canyon opening to the Salt Lake Valley to the west.  

It was too early in June to complete this hike, especially if you didn't know that and wore open toed shoes, like I did.  So did Robin, who I met on the mountain.  Up high at about where I expected the lake to be, the trail and most of the mountain was still hidden by snow.  For a while she and I braved the cold and wet feet to find it, even climbing like monkeys on some rocks that protrude from the mountain and snow above a running stream beneath it.  But whatever that was I knew it wasn't a trail that leads to a lake.  Eventually, Robin and I both decided that the lake would be there in July when the snow wasn't, and we'd be back.

Then I drove to Moab, which conveniently has one charter school that scheduled its board meeting for early in June before it gets unbearably hot there.  My favorite hike there is Negro Bill Canyon, but this time I went for variety over familiarity.  I hiked the Moab Rim Trail.  It's listed as a three-mile one-way hike with 900 feet of altitude gain.  The websites don't mention that the whole gain comes in the first half-mile as you climb a mountain with no trail at all, just rocks.  And even though it's early June, there's still plenty of sweating to be done.  But as you climb, you're rewarded with views like this.

The Colorado River running by the Rim and parts of Canyonlands (I think) in the background.

Looking to the east, the city of Moab fills a valley between the red rock mountains.

If you forget your hat, you're bound to get sunburned, especially up top where the hair isn't as thick as it used to be.  So, you move your hair around to cover the barer spots at different times and end up with a do like this.

This bush was singing "She'll be coming around the mountain when she comes."

  By now it's pretty warm, so I went to hike the Powerhouse Trail along Mill Creek and found this:



You have to cross the creek three times in knee deep water to get here, so remove your phone from your pocket.  This swimming hole was a ton of fun, but it was also great getting here.

Love the contrasting colors.

For some reason you have to tilt your monitor counter clockwise to get the effect of this mini trail between the rocks and the foliage.

This waterfall was a bear to climb the first time.  There's another trail to get to the top of the cliffs that surround this pool, but I didn't take it.  So, I climbed up the moss-covered rocks against the water.  There are moss-free sections of the rocks on which your shoes (wear water shoes on this hike--not a good idea to have to take off your shoes and go barefoot here, though some people were that crazy) can get a grip.  But I was paralyzed with fear for about three minutes before I was able to take the last few steps and grips to get above the water.



As you can see, there's a few people there already, all clothed (I found out later that this is a popular place for the teenagers to skinny dip).  The cliffs are probably just under 20 feet on the left and about ten on the right. Braver souls than me made the big jump, doing flips and whatnot. One guy even found a spot to do a wall run for about four steps on the cliffs before jumping in the water.  It's only about six feet, so no diving.

Then on to board meeting, where the locals love to hear how much I love their town.

Then, just to round everything out, I went to Bell Canyon Reservoir a few days later.

Isn't Utah just grand?

Isn't life just grand?

Scots fest

I went to Scotland in 2008.  It was for a wedding, so I give props for the wedding being the best part.  The actual best part was the day of the wedding when the groom and I speed-golfed.

That's very good form.

So it's always fun to go to the Utah Scottish Festival at Thanksgiving Point each June.

This year for the first time I went on Friday instead of Saturday, so I got to see the strong man competitions.  Very burly men get out and flip tree trunks, throw weights over a high-jump bar, and lift massive stones over their head.  Not their own stones.





For the burly ladies, they also have a rolling pin toss (is that chauvinist?) over the bar.  I didn't watch that because the marching bands were getting started, and its not just the kilts that make that worth watching.  The drummers are not only talented musicians, but also talented stick twirlers.



Food wise, the festival leaves something to be desired.  There's a booth that serves Haggis, but that's only so-so when it's done at its best, so I'm not about to try it at a fair booth.  Instead, I always get a meat pie, which is English more than Scottish, and tastes kind of like English food, which means it's nothing to write on a blog about.

The highlight is always the bands, especially Molly's Revenge, with their way-into-it fiddle and bagpipe player, and the Wicked Tinkers.





Yeah.  That song is called "Wallop the Cat."  Good times.

There should've been more dwarves

If there is a movie that is prettier to look at with a dumber script than Snow White and the Huntsman, I can't think of it.  While the movie will likely be a candidate for several Oscars, including for cinematography, make-up, and some good costumes that Charlize Theron no doubt makes look even better, it will win no praise for writing, acting, or directing.

The movie is often nice to look at, but the dialogue and delivery are so bad, and at key times even so laughable, that the movie would have been better if it just muted the actors and just let us watch the pretty pictures.

Snow White suffers from its obvious attempt to be Lord of the Rings-y.  There's a dark phantom army that turns to lumps of coal when they're stabbed, dwarves (which are the best part of the movie), and a rousing speech before the final battle.  But Kristen Stewart is no Viggo Mortenson, and Snow White is no Aragorn. "Fight like thundering waves," from Bella Swann just doesn't carry the same gusto as, "There my be a day when the strength of men fails, but it is not this day."



As a director, Rupert Sanders, who's mostly done commercial work, has the good sense to pick good cinematographers and very skilled technicians, but direction to his actors couldn't have been more than, "Scream this part really loud."  You'll grow to hate all that screaming by the end of the movie.  Scratch that, by halfway through the movie.

And why does The Huntsman of the title fall for Snow White?  That's a mystery, as is at what point in the movie he developed any feelings for her.  Somehow he does.  Perhaps in the movie's world love is a state of no emotion or connection.

I could complain more about the movie, but I can't do so without spoiling things for anyone who still might want to see it, so I won't.   Instead I'll end positively.  When the dwarves show up, I got hopeful for a minute, hoping that the movie was about to take a turn for the better.  It only lasted a few minutes, but for that few minutes as you recognize the guy from Deadwood, Hot Fuzz, and Sherlock Holmes in fantastic make-up and looking completely integrated with normal-sized folks (the one thing that this movie actually does better than LOTR) it's pretty cool.



If you must go see this movie, bring ear plugs and just enjoy the scenery.