Wandering in the Wilderness

You probably thought that title was talking about our being down here in Utah, living in limbo as we wait to enter our own promised land, but actually, it really refers to what’s going on upstairs in what is left of my mind.  I imagine it will take awhile to recover from a three month sleep deficit.

Considering the fact that I never did forgive my five-year old laptop for the emotional trauma I experienced as I tried to write my last blog nearly a year ago, it should be no surprise that I am only starting this up again because my husband took pity on me and bought me another more considerate and compassionate computer.  So far so good.

Right now we are living in Midvale, Utah, a stone’s throw to the Jordan River -- as long as you clear the sewage plant just to the west of us.  I can’t get over the sunshine and the beautiful mountains that surround us.  We are on the second floor, and the family room windows face what I am guessing are the Oquirrh Mountains.  We leave the heat off and the inside temperature sits around 75 degrees even though it is below freezing outside at night.  I guess our neighbors below and above us deserve a big thank-you.

I had to limit pictures – so I just took this one of the mountains to the east of us.  Across the field, the Jordan River Walk follows the Jordan River (surprise) to the north of us somewhere and to the south clear down to Provo.  Every day, Jim and I take off in one direction or the other for some exercise. One other beauty of this place is the close proximity to Winco, our favorite grocery store—a one-minute drive, or a ten-minute walk.

So, how did we end up in an apartment in Midvale, Utah, after 25 years in Federal Way, Washington?

Three and a half months ago, we suddenly felt like we needed to move to Salt Lake.  Just the fact that when I rather forcefully said that to Jim one night and he casually mentioned that he would check the Boeing website to see if there were any openings is evidence of something more going on than us just needing a change.  There just happened to be an equipment engineering position  open for a couple more days.  Jim is not an equipment engineer, but he has been working with the Boeing people here in Salt Lake for the last couple of years, and the manager, Todd, had offered Jim a job several times, though it never felt right and we never even considered it.  But now, something was different, and Jim turned in his application and resume and we began to act as if we were going to get the job and move.

Selling an 18-year old house that has had the biscuit is no easy task.  Seven kids, four of them very creative and ingenious boys with ample amounts of energy, can leave their mark.  Add to that a daughter that was one delightfully destructive toddler and the house never had a prayer.  (Names removed to preserve anonymity.)   As I walked through all three floors and all 4,230 square feet of beat-up house, surveying it with the eyes of a potential buyer, I saw things I had previously overlooked simply to preserve my emotional stability.  We were living in what appeared to be a war zone and it was overwhelming and depressing just thinking about what it would take to make it marketable.

                      321 S. 309th Street, Federal Way, WA

 

This was the beginning of a multitude of miracles. 

When this whole experience of moving, selling and buying a house is complete, I am going to try and come up with a number for how many miracles we have experienced as we have gone through the last three months.  Right now, since we are still experiencing them, I just have to say it has been a multitude.

The morning after we talked about the possibility of looking for a job in Salt Lake, I went to the internet and just out of curiosity, wanted to see what real estate was like down here.  I decided to make myself a list of what I wanted in my “dream house,” as I felt that this would be our last move and, just for the heck of it,  I might as well look for a home that had the qualities I’d always dreamed of in a home.  I made my list and went searching.  I soon found it.  It really was love at first sight, and I have never been able to look at another house since then.  Ever.  Not even when Boeing sent us on our week-long house hunting trip. Not even when someone else put an offer and contract on MY house.   But that is one of those incredible miracles and comes later in my story.

                    

This home is in the Alpine North Stake and is five to six minutes from the Draper Temple.  On a clear day we can see through a canyon to downtown Salt Lake from our patio.  Happily, just down the street they are building a new LDS chapel.

The girls will be attending Lone Peak High School for a few classes and the seminary there.  Interestingly enough, the Lone Peak Seminary is the largest in the church.  There are 68 seminary classes and 1,900 LDS students that attend.  Out of the 2,100 students at Lone Peak High School, 93% of them are LDS.  This is slightly up from the six students in Marci and Jamie’s early morning seminary class in Federal Way, which included all four grades at the high school.

We haven’t attended our new ward, since the house hasn’t closed yet, and, yes, I’ll admit it, I wanted to fly a little under the radar for awhile and just enjoy sitting by my husband in church, so we have been attending the Midvale 3rd Ward for a couple of weeks.  Ha.  Guess who is teaching their High Priest’s group next week . . .

To be continued.  Hopefully a little tomorrow.  And the next day. And the day after that.  I’m being optimistic.  You have to be to eat a whole elephant.

The Friday Night Reception Preceding the Saturday Morning Marriage

Disclaimer:  After dozens of  computer “not responding” messages, I gave up.  It was either toss the whole thing – computer and blog - or send it like it is.  Here are mostly pictures.  I was able to sneak in a tiny amount of commentary, but that took forever to get there, and being the veritable wimp that I am, and after having lost control of the whole project, I hereby toss up the white flag – surrender, whatever you want to call it.  I can’t even get this to type properly.  Hopefully, you got the e-mail with the link to the first part of this blog where I whined about my problems even more than I did here. 

p.s.  It has taken me 10 minutes just to get this paragraph on.  I’ve tried to publish the blog  twice onto the web, and had it rejected.  I don’t know if you will ever even see this . . .

Does anybody feel sorry for me yet?

Meet the beautiful soon-to-be-bride – Miss Chanda Rose Smith on her last day with that name.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And what a day it turned out to be be.  Just looking outside during the reception that evening, you’d have thought  the heavens knew and were all excited about what great thing was going to happen the next morning in the Arizona Temple.

And her handsome husband-to-be Nathan Watterson.

 

 

 

I am quite sure that look of terror was caused by me and my camera.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Can you believe their friends drove down from Provo to be with them?  These are the kids in their ward that watched the whole relationship between Nate and Chanda develop.  Even their Bishop and his wife in the back row made the trip.

 

 

The two tallest girls in the family.

She did it!  She finished the quilt just in time.  I have a feeling that Chanda was able to pick the colors or the fabrics for the quilt, but it ‘s a keeper.

 

Candy’s cake was incredible as well—even though you wouldn’t want to eat some of the styrofoam under there.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nathan and some very special people from his mission.

 

Chanda and some very special people from her mission.  I know that both Chanda and Nathan helped in the conversion of these families.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They still make a very handsome couple after all these years. 

 

 

Nathan’s family – his brother on the far right, his uncle in the center, and I think probably his cousin on the left.  I could be totally wrong.  Someone can correct me.

Nathan’s grandmother.

 

Nathan’s aunt.

 

 

 

 

Such innocent looks, but  there was all kinds of pinching going on behind—it is very difficult to determine who started it, but I have my bets.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I loved Ethan’s intense concentration.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Little Miss Ellie, younger sister to Ethan, daughter to Justin and Ashleigh, grand daughter to Carla and Lydnon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(It was like pulling teeth for Lindsay and Barrett to confess to an engagement – but September 3rd is now officially the  happy day.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I would really like to know who was responsible for Mia’s look of trepidation. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I think this was the signal to shut down for the evening.

Are you hearing sweet nothings?