Is There a Doctor in the House?

(**NOTE:    I started this last Sunday, and got near the end,  and then my blog took on a life of its own-- a very sick life.  I’m not sure if we are talking senility or virus, but I can’t do ANYTHING more with it. It underlines when I didn’t tell it to, won’t select any pictures, doesn’t respond to any commands or even acknowledge that I exist.  I’ve tried to come back to it every day this week, and it acts more strangely each time.  I can’t even get my cursor to move anywhere except ahead so all my mistakes are going to stay right where they are, and thus it remains unfinished and I remain in no mood to deal with it ANYMORE.  We are through.  Kaput.  Blah. )

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This five-day trip started at Rhonda’s Residence Inn.  At least, I’m sure that’s what she feels like sometimes.  She sure puts you up in style and does it with the biggest of smiles.  The very silly thing is that we were able to visit with her and Art Tuesday night when we got there (after a painfully long  15- 1/2 hour trip through much snow and the unfriendliest of driving conditions), and didn’t see them again, even though we didn’t leave for Rexburg until Thursday afternoon.  Art filled us up on his Killer Grilled Cheese Sandwiches and the very tastiest Tomato Basil Bisque (Soup) when we arrived bedraggled and cold at their door Tuesday evening.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wednesday afternoon we took off for BYU.  Jim had spent the morning at the Boeing plant in Salt Lake City, where he is working with their engineering team on a big project of some sort.   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some of us loved walking around campus more than others.  No names.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was REALLY grateful we didn’t have to resort to camping out in tents to get a good seat at the BYU/New Mexico game Wednesday night. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I wouldn’t blame this guy for his wardrobe.  He was just coming from one of those tents and his mother wasn’t there to help him pack.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The sunset was incredible and lit up Mt. Timpanogas.  You know, I still miss that mountain.  I have some intensely emotional memories of that place.  I spent a harrowing hour one September afternoon in 1980, perched on the pointy edge of a crevasse of a glacier near the top, refusing to let go and slide down to what I was sure would be my death.  The rancher I was with was not deterred in the least, having had plenty of experience roping rebellious horses.  My stubborn refusal was no match for his strength, determination and skill with a rope.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ever since Rhonda introduced us to Bajios Mexican Grill, Jim and I can’t visit Utah without eating there, which is surprising considering our distaste for eating at the same place twice. **

**Your reaction to that comment is a pretty dang good indicator of how well you really know Jim and I.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It is situated in Riverside Plaza.  They have done a nice job of making it happy place to visit. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And by the way, facial expressions to the contrary, Jamie really is happy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jim is recovering from 2 hours spent wandering Provo with Nathan while Jamie and Marci and I got our hair cut.  He is a good and patient man.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aubrey is testing Devin’s muscular status after having filled up on a generous portion of Mexican food.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The night we all have been waiting for.  And as Aubrey put it, we should’ve put up a sign that said “We drove 15 hours uphill and through blizzards both ways to see Jimmer play.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sadly, the excitement slowly dribbled out of our countenances as the night wore on.  There wasn’t a more depressing game we could’ve attended.  Pres. Partridge’s wife, who knew we had traveled to the game, told Jim we were banned from attending any of the tournament games in Las Vegas.

As an unembarrassed mother with a camera, I spent some time in the hour and a half before the game a little closer to the players than my teenage daughters would have been comfortable with.  These are their heroes and they know just about everything about them that has ever been printed.  I knew I needed to come back with a picture of every one of them—problem was, they weren’t as concerned about me getting a good shot as they were with getting their own.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

BYU Guard, Jackson Emery,   #4

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

BYU Point Guard, Jimmer Fredette, #32

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

BYU Center, Logan Magnusson, #12

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

BYU Guard, Charles Abouo, #1

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

BYU Guard, Kyle Collinsworth, #31

BYU Forward, Noah Hartsock, #34

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

BYU Forward, James Anderson, #15

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

BYU Guard, Stephen Rogers, #21  (And by the way, he hails from Mesa, Arizona.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The team has finally stopped warming up and are coming out to actually play.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We couldn’t have had seats in a better place.  We were right next to the student section and my daughters’ enthusiasm  blended right in.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They were old pros with the fan stuff.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When each one of the BYU players were introduced, you would’ve thought the fans were screaming for some famous rock star.  The contrast had to be a little disconcerting for the New Mexico players when they were introduced.  The Marriott Center went silent and all the fans in the student section pulled out newspapers and started reading.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I loved seeing the lady who I assume is the wife of either Neal A. Anderson or Todd Cristofferson.  She did not sit there quietly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Cougarettes doing their thing, although even Jim had stopped clapping and cheering for ANYBODY at this point.  We were somewhere around 20 points behind.  Our players were still reeling from the loss the day before of one of their main starters, Brandon Davies.  He had been suspended for a violation of the Honor Code, and it literally rocked the sports world nationwide, as BYU was just poised to play in the NCAA Tournament and ready to compete with the best of them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This was the only thing that made Jim smile all night long.  As part of the half-time show, a group of 50 to 90-year old ladies known as the “Golden Girls,”   came out and performed a hit song that all the students knew. In this picture, they are  dancing the Robot and the crowds went absolutely wild.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They quoted us the number of children, grandchildren and great grandchildren that these ladies were responsible for.  It was astounding.

After the game, we decided to drown our sorrows at the Creamery on Ninth with some ice cream.  It actually helped.  At least we had something positive to look forward to the next day.  We were on our way to Rexburg to visit Darren and Richelle.