So happy to be eating

The long trail.

So far so good

 

He really started to feel the burn.

 

Sandi looks happy after the long haul

Noah was unfazed by any of the hike.  Uncle Nate nicknamed him 2 1/2 after they concluded that he had 2 hearts, 2 sets of lungs, but only half a brain.

Austin stayed steady

Landon of course was a machine the entire time, he must be a teenager trapped in an old man's body. Ha!

 

Nate was called Tortoise because he was usually the last one to stroll into camp, but he did manage to out do the whippersnappers with 25 push ups with his pack on after entering camp.  The young bucks were quite impressed.

camp life

The shelter

 Noah came up with the 100 ankle hop for Nate to do after he showed them up with the pushups.  Nate had sprained his ankle so Noah took advantage of his weakness and showed him up.

Just the boys

 

Evan had found his stride and Noah must have snuck some energy drinks in that innocent looking water bottle.

 

A wedding, decorating and irrelevancy

I have been absent from the Internet for a very good reason.  My good friend, whom I occasionally walk with is going to be the mother of the bride this Saturday.  My job is food related and we have been busy with it.  Time is flying, this is the second friend to lose a child to matrimony, but if have to give them up I guess gaining a new daughter or son is good consolation. 

I am still working out 3 or 4 days a week. (don't love it yet)

I am still loving my Sonlight curriculum, I am not even going to LOOK at anything else.

My living room is striped bare.  It echos when you talk in that giant space.

Nathan is a master designer, you should see how fabulously he organized the garage. (I am going to take pictures, it is that good)

Evan won't tell me if he has hair under his arms, he just calls me a weirdy if I ask.

Life is slow, steady, dizzingly fast, complicated, and peaceful all mixed up together, but I am finding my solid ground upon which to stand.

More time

Nate just returned home from a snowmobiling trip to Montana.  Although I am not a terrible worrier, there is something to be said about being uneasy when the man you love will not stick to the beaten, well worn path that is before him but will blaze new trails into the unknown.  I would look every morning and evening for the news caption of "Avalanche, snowmobile rs buried alive."  He only had to throw himself off the back of the vehicle one time when he suddenly came to an unseen cliff.  The cliff turned out to be only 15 feet down, and the vehicle landed in a huge pile of drift, but you can't see that from the riders perspective.  When we crawled into bed last night and turned off the lights, I said "Thank you lord for more time."