My new hobby and Cleo

This has been a weird year, there is no doubt about that.
So I have taken a few months to just breathe. Luckily
Doug is on board(Something that I am grateful for every day)

In my spare time, I have taken to growing a little garden on my
deck. Although it is time consuming, it has been a healing and
very rewarding. Every tomato, every pepper and every breakfast
or dinner I cook with materials from my own garden makes me
grow stronger.
It is fragile, but I am beginning to feel more like
myself every day.




Additionally, how gorgeous is this dog? As Jen witnessed while she
was here, she actually poses for each shot--Just like a pro! She is
also undergoing some pretty dramatic changes as we attempt to
"positive reinforce" our way into her liking new people and dogs.
We have enrolled in a a Fiesty Fidos Class at Calling all Dogs

The after effects of being opinionated.

Let's start with waking up the next morning and thinking: Did I say(write) that out loud? Followed by wondering if everyone you know hates you followed briefly by wondering if that guy at your 10 year reunion was looking at you funny because of your scandalous blog post or because you have something in your teeth and then?

Getting over it, and quickly.

Bottom line: I believe and feel every word I wrote. Does that mean that I hate Mormons or Anti-Mormons? Nope. Does it mean that I want them to hate me back? Nope.
Does it mean that I will be quiet when they try to run my city and enforce
upon me their beliefs? NOPE!

So let's move on everyone, let's agree to disagree: I will stop ranting on the dominant religion and I will try not to kiss a woman on main street and you agree to leave me and politics here alone deal?

Didn't think so--let the ranting continue but maybe later--on to what I have been up to lately--photographing again!






I have to say that after a break I had a good time with these two families--fun to be living in the Right side of my brain again---instead of just making enemies, I have been making family heirlooms people!

Mormons. And those formally known as.

Salt Lake City is a lot of things. Extremely polarized happens to be one
of them. I am fairly positive that in order to live in Rome, you do
not have to be an expert on the Catholic Church. In stark contrast,
in order to live in Saudi Arabia or Afghanistan you DO have to have
a somewhat basic knowledge of Islam or you will be very uncomfortable
there. I have to say, that Salt Lake City is much closer to the latter.

A good friend mine was recounting a very well known phrase that everyone
who has ever set foot in Salt Lake for more than 5 minutes risks hearing:
"Those that leave the church just can't seem to leave it alone"
This is true for so many more reasons than I can cover here(or ever)
but it did bring up a topic that is at the tip of the brain, and gag
reflex at all times as Salt Lake City residents who are not members
of the "dominant religion". This church refuses to be ignored and
if you live here, it is jammed down your throat by the faithful, the
formally faithful, the newspapers, hell even the bums do it AT EVERY TURN. Every dinner party, night out, lunch date and business meeting we have, even if it is
out of the country, when people hear we are from Utah it DOES NOT MATTER with whom or how much we drink it
inevitably turns to the MORMONS(or, the DAMN MORMONS as I like to affectionately refer to them as even while they are present)
Here is the worst part:

It is RUINING my social life, and my city.


You ALWAYS have to pick a side. It isn't one of those things that you can 'other' check box out of either. In Utah, you either mark Yes, Hell NO!, or Marie Osmond(the artist formally known as a real Mormon but now may be classified as Jack)
No but seriously there is no 'normal' box to check. You know, the one that doesn't reflect years of being either in or out. Acceptable or not. mysterious white undies or thong.

Being oblivious is not really possible.

Living here is like a big game of kickball where teams are picked by
whether you know the secret handshake or not. And it is EXHAUSTING and
a little anti-climatic. It's like this: when you meet someone new, whether
socially or in business you are constantly thinking: "are they or aren't
they?" Mostly because you can BET your next paycheck on the direction the
relationship will go based on the answer to that tiny little question and
it sucks(note: also true when dating and yes, the paycheck would have to
be AFTER tithing)

I live in a building where the answer to "are they or aren't they" has become
a game we play. Whenever someone new moves in, a group of us play the game(based
solely on what we can see in their moving boxes and through the windows before
they call the cops.) We do this mostly because we want to know if we should avoid inviting them over for Wine Friday. Mormons, after all, respond to such an invite with a visit from the local missionaries and then, well, let's just say it gets rather
ugly after that.

I think I lost my point.

Wait: There it is!

I want a Normal Box. The kind that doesn't inspect my undies or think of
ways to get me to join their team. Sometimes I feel like I am living
in the real life equivalent of a land-grabbing, hostage taking, diet coke
drinking, passive aggression slinging, experiment. Note to those in charge:
This outlier is thinking of relocating. And it is all your fault, although,
sometimes it seems intentional to root normal out and just leave the extremes.
This way, both sides win, at least in their own minds.

Denvering it up--

So....at some point during dinner one night last month Doug
and I were looking over our calendar and decided that if we
didn't get away from all the craziness that is our summer,
and soon, we were going to either end up dead, divorced or
worse: zombies who drain our bank account and leave the country
never to return. And no one but Leslie and maybe our accountant
would know where.
Listen, you may think I am being dramatic but what would you do
if you had 4 weddings, 2 family reunions, 3 bachelor/bachelorette
parties to attend, 3.5 businesses to run, 1 Garden to attend to, 1
neurosis infused puppy to take to a class where she has to learn to
be nice to: that's right, you guessed it: other neurosis infused puppies!
and yet dammit, I forgot to order my navy blue shoes for a wedding
that is next week! And yes, in a fit of control freak overload I ordered the chandelier
that Doug was only somewhat liking on Ebay because it was $200 cheaper!

Needless to say Doug looked at me frothing at the mouth and twitching one
night and said: I have got to get you out of here!

So Denver it was. He was attending a conference there anyway so it seemed to
be a natural fit to just extend the trip. While we were at it(and in a storm
of irrational trip planning major misjudgment) we decided to bend our rule on
never(NEVER) driving further than 6 hours and drive, 8.5-9 hours to Denver.

I cannot even begin to describe HOW misguided driving was....so I won't. Let's
just say that it ended with Doug telling me that I am the only child he can
handleand if, IF we ever were to reproduce we were never going to be traveling
via car ANYWHERE, ever. Mom, Dad, I think he now understands why Benadryl and
loud music were the staples of road trips when I was a kid.

Back to the trip. The day before we left I got a massive sore throat. Being the tenacious traveler that I am(ahem, by plane only) and considering the severity
of our situation we pressed on. Again, misguided but whatever. The place was
paid for and our bags were packed!

ONCE we arrived things began looking up. Our condo was located in the very hip
and very tan and in shape neighborhood of LODO(lower Denver for those of you who
don't speak Denverese) right next to the river and Union Station.

I was still not feeling great, but considering allergy season in the great
SLC has been the worst to date, ever--I was NOT going to let a little hay-
fever ruin my good time! So loaded up on Claritin and we were off!

We started with dinner with Dustin and Mandi at a local brewery, Then the next moring renting bikes
at the park near us in 95 degree weather, and then BAM my "allergies" took a turn
for the worse. We had planned to go and see our friends Jake and Sam in Boulder
the next day so we opted to sleep the rest of the day to try and get back on track
for a day of fun! On the way back I ended up twisting my foot and not being able to
walk. Doug, being raised by a nurse and all, sprung into action. He iced my foot,
loaded me full of antihistamines and decongestant and sent me to bed, for the rest
of the afternoon.

The next day my foot was miraculously healed and the allergies were much improved
so we we headed to meet our good friends Jake and Sam at their spectacular abode
in quaint and exclusive Boulder, CO.
We talked, laughed, and hiked, ate and heard about their upcoming wedding in Kansas and
somewhere between nuptual talk and sushi I started to wilt and fast--we ended the night
quickly( I think they could tell I was not myself) it was very apparent that this was
not allergies--

The next morning I went to the Dr and he told me I had a cold(not surprising since
the poster in his office goes through all the many reasons that your cold is NOT
an infection)

So again, we went home to sleep in hopes of being able to do something fun and exciting
on our last day of vaca.

We woke up, ate and since I was still feeling horrible we decided to spend the afternoon in the park, on a blanket, staring up at the clouds. I haven't done this
for at least 10 years, maybe never. It was so much fun! After a few hours
of talking, really talking, Doug was summoned to work.

It turned out that he only had to work 1 day instead of 3 so we got to play one day
(I was still sick, but on the mend and still limping)

We arrived home in once piece, tired and with a new resolve never to drive more
than 6 hours but for me, a renewed appreciation for my amazing husband, some great
new insight into his life and plans for the future, and caught up on my sleep for
the first time in I cannot even remember how long. So I guess, in the end, while it was not exactly the trip we had planned, it was the trip we needed.