Trek...Part 2

The irony of pioneer children riding in a minivan in order to push a handcart to "Zion". It just all seemed a little ironic!

It has been a crazy couple of weeks! A HUGE Carr family reunion that lasted a week. C.'s annual company conference, a textbook ordering project for J & M's school, article deadlines for the magazine, swim lessons every day, and the usual daily craziness. Sigh. When does all of this become summer "vacation"?

So here I am. And I have desperately wanted to finish recording our experience on trek. I will see what I can get done.

After all the prepartion, it was finally time to actually get out there and "trek". We were so excited to pack things up and drive to our rendevous spot at Deseret Land and Livestock. We arrived, parked the car, and started loading our bucket belongings into the handcart. We were sharing the handcart with 2 other families so it was interesting trying to get everything loaded, balanced, and attached! The handcarts were much smaller than I had imagined but with the sheer enthusiasm blowing around the place, I had no doubt we could get that thing pushed and pulled to where it needed to go.

It was breathtaking to stand out on this ranch. I am a fanatic about wild, open land. While I love the rugged, beautiful mountains, I find the prairie absolutely mesmerizing. I can't explain the feeling I get when I can stand and view the world as far as my eyes can see with any obstructions. I have always found driving across Nebraska and Wyoming to be exhilirating...it must be my deeply ingrained Midwest upbringing. I just stood in the parking lot of our trek site and tried to take it all in. It was beautiful.

Getting ready to go! The boys couldn't WAIT to start pulling and I loved seeing my little family out there on the plains.

Our whole family...ready to trek.

Although this was just a ward trek, I was touched at the many sacrifices people made to participate. Our friend's son had a sprained ankle, several women were pregnant, many families had small infants or children, a couple of children were recovering from illness, and one child was handicapped...I immediately felt such graditude for the sacrifices individuals and families made in order to participate. It was truly inspirational!

After packing the handcarts, we met for our first "devotional". Each day of trek had a special theme. The first day was "positive attitude". We sang our theme song "Come Take Your Place" and then had a couple of speakers. I have to admit that while the speeches were very well prepared and given, I was SO anxious to get going. Enough talk...more walk! Finally it was time to go. We got ourselves organized and set out over the first hill. What an amazing sight to watch each handcart pull out and head up the trail! It really brought tears to my eyes to watch these friends and neighbors start walking the dusty trail through the sage brush with the flags flying, the children running, families pushing and pulling, and the adrenaline of a new adventure rising in our hearts. I wanted to cheer!

We trekked about 4.6 miles that first day. We stopped frequently for little breaks but it truly was just us and the sagebrush out there! It was amazing...these rolling, green hills without any signs of "modern" civilization...not a telephone pole or road to be seen. We saw lots of leaping antelope and small critters which thrilled the kids. We sang, talked, told stories and jokes, passed around Swedish fish and other treats, and walked. H. rode in the handcart but the boys walked the entire way without a word of complaint. They walked behind the handcart and helped push for a majority of the day. I felt such pride in their determination and dedication. They really helped keep me motivated and truly enjoyed the experience along the way.

About a mile from base camp, we stopped and had a major break as well as another "mini" devotional. Numerous members of the ward had been assigned little "vignettes" that they shared at various points along the way. These were real life stories, experiences and testimonies from handcart pioneers that had crossed these plains and mountains. It was inspirational to hear these individuals share the various stories and feel the Spirit of the orignial pioneers. Two little girls shared an experience about crossing a field filled with rattlesnakes. They were terrified of the snakes but prayed that Heavenly Father would help them not be scared and be safe as they travelled. It described how these girls proceeded to "jump the snakes" and arrived safely with their handcart company. The children were told that as we trekked through the next field, they were to watch for "snakes" and see how many they could jump. For the next portion of the trail, there were wooden snakes hiding all over in the grass and the kids loved tromping, running and jumping through the grass to try and find the snakes! The women on our handcart also decided we wanted to try our hand at pulling instead of pushing and so for the last mile into base camp, we pulled the handcart! It was really hard! Much harder than it looked. It was really exhausting but I was determined not to quit and to make it through the next leg of the journey. But I started to understand why the pioneers left major items along the trail. Suddenly when you are pulling that handcart over miles of prairie with no trail, there isn't much that seems more valuable than a light cart!

A pregnant woman, a marathon runner, a chubby pioneer and 2 darling boys pulling the handcart into base camp.

We finally arrived at base camp! There were many thoughts that crossed my mind that first day as we pulled those handcarts...I think the prominent thought was how this experience was the great equalizer and really revealed a person's true character. As we were each pushing and pulling handcarts, carrying tired infants and toddlers, and just trying to stay inspired to keep going even when we were tired and hungry, I started to think about what character traits were really most important in life. It didn't matter how charasmatic or well-dressed you were in "real" life...no one cared how big or small your house was...the things that were left behind or what your "position" was at work wasn't going to push that handcart. All that mattered was your dedication, determination, and sheer will-power in reaching that singular goal. I think in life we spend lots of time stressing about and worrying over details that really don't matter. We lose sight of our priorities and purpose and start listening to the wrong voices telling us how to feel about ourselves and tainting our perspective on the world around us. The minute those pioneers set their faces and hearts to Zion, it was only their testimonies, their commitment to the Lord, their determination and sacrifice and their love for each other that was going to get them through the trials and heartache and deliver them safely to Zion. No one was travelling with their riches and material possessions...so many quickly abandoned those "material" goods by the side of the trail. I imagine their wasn't much boasting or bragging about their lives "before" since that wasn't going to feed their families or pull their handcarts. I suddenly felt a little silly and shallow. I suddenly realized that I wasn't focusing enough time or energy on the things that really mattered in my life and somewhere on that 4.6 mile journey I vowed to myself and the Lord that I would change that. I wanted to be more committed...not to temporal things but to spiritual things. I wanted to consume less of the world's material goods and consume more things of a spiritual nature. I wanted to focus less time and energy thinking about myself and start focusing outward...I wanted to develop the type of character that without thinking, I could leave everything behind and pull my family to Zion. In these latter days, that is the real challenge. We aren't on a physical journey the way these handcart pioneers were, but we are on a very real and hazardous journey to bring ourselves and our families back to the Lord. And it takes a vastly different set of character traits and personal development to do that than to succeed in any other "worldly" way. I really started to look at myself in a whole new way and while I was disappointed in some of what I saw, I also rediscovered part of my potential and rejoiced in the faith and confidence the Lord has in me. It was hard, but I did push that handcart into base camp...I am capable of so much more than I realize. I knew my first lesson was unfolding before me...

Once we reached base camp, each family started setting up their tents and getting settled in. We ate dinner (delicious!), hiked the hill beside camp, and had another devotional. I am amazed at the time and preparation that had gone in to each of these devotionals. All 3 days were filled with musical numbers, stories, testimonies, talks, and all manner of uplifting stuff! So many people were involved in preparing and presenting of these devotionals. We had an entire "musical band" of youth that provided all the music with their banjos, guitars, flutes, violins, drums, and harmonicas! It was amazing!

At that first devotional, each company presented their company "song", chant, and skit. We were the black pirate pioneers...I think the primary children in our company had something to do with that. The boys got to be "sea animals" in our company skit. Brother Griffiths dressed up and told some great stories from the real accounts of a wilderness pioneer but I was chasing after the kids during most of it so I really only got to appreciate his fabulous costume! The program was followed by each company gathered around their own bonfire eating s'mores. Perfect ending to an amazing day!

Gathered for evening devotional...I loved the multi function of our buckets. They were our suitcases and chairs for the entire trek. It felt so compact and efficient!
The pirate pioneers!
The kids swimming around as "sea life" during our skit.
Brother Griffiths doing what he does best...
Ah...family and s'mores around a bonfire!

Thus ended our first day. We were exhausted but really excited and happy. The kids did fantastic. We didn't have a single melt-down or tantrum or moment of unpleasantness. They were loving every minute and C. and I felt so enriched by all we had learned and experienced that day. We were ready for some sleep but eagerly looking forward to tomorrow's adventures!

For more pictures, music, and experiences from our trek, visit Orchard Hills Ward Trek

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Trek...Chapter 1

I've never had so many adventures that require multiple chapters! Or I'm just getting older and not able to stay up until the wee hours like I used to. Anyway...our family has had an AMAZING adventure over the last 3 days. I'm a little overwhelmed even trying to describe all that has happened and how it has not only changed our little family but touched each of us individually. There are not many experiences in life that you can literally watch your children change before your eyes or see things physically and spiritually emerge from them that you did not know were there. I feel like I truly have been given some amazing gifts and I'll try to share what has happened as best I can.

Exactly one year ago this month, the youth in our ward attended a stake "trek". Now I am not a Utah native so I'd never heard nor ever experienced a youth "trek" before. It was interesting watching the whole event unfold...the kids and their leaders travelled to a church owned ranch on the Utah/Wyoming border where they spent 3 days pulling handcarts over the same land that our ancestors travelled so many years before. What was wonderful was hearing about their experiences and listening to them bear their testimonies about what transpired on this trek. I truly felt a little cheated that I'd never had the experience. It sounded amazing.

Well, shortly after their activity last summer, our ward activity chair proposed the idea of doing a ward family trek to the ward council. Everyone agreed it would be an amazing experience but no one was certain how realistic it would be. Our fearless leader called Deseret Land and Livestock Ranch and asked about the feasibility of the idea. She was told that there were absolutely no openings available. As far as I knew, the idea was abandoned.

Last Christmas, our ward held a fabulous pioneer themed Christmas party. (Someday I will devote an entire post to our ward activity chair. This is absolutely no ordinary woman and the ward activities she has executed have been unbelievable. Never, ever ordinary and you always walk away having had an extraordinary experience...but that is for another post.) I have to admit that I thought the whole pioneer theme was a little random but like I said, we are not dealing with a woman who likes to do ordinary things. The party was spectacular and at the very end, they had everyone come in to the chapel so that the bishopric could give a special present to the ward members. They unwrapped a box and unrolled a huge banner that said, "Orchard Hills Ward 2008 Pioneer Trek...Come Take Your Place" and gave the date. I think everyone was pretty stunned. Apparently the circumstances with how this opportunity came to be were pretty miraculous and I can't remember the whole story. But our ward would be the first ward to trek together as families...our kids are the first to have trekked at this place. It was going to be a really unique experience.

They gave each family in our ward the names of real handcart pioneer families that each of us would be trekking for. It was not only staggering to think of the time and effort that went in to finding these names but our ward activity chair had actually found whole families that pretty closely matched our own families. And like I said, these were real families she had researched that had crossed the plains and pushed handcarts to Zion. Our family consisted of a father, mother, 2 boys close to our boys ages and a girl close to H.'s age. Each of us were encouraged to research our families and learn as much about them as we could. It was humbling to me that several of these individuals we were trekking for had not been able to complete their journey and had died along the way. While this was not the case with our pioneer family, I felt a strange sensation that this was a powerful opportunity to not only represent these individuals and the sacrifices they had made, but to somehow bring their experience full circle and see their journey to Zion physically completed. I felt strongly connected to these individuals who were not our direct descendants but who belonged to this gospel family where each of us are recipients in one way or another of these faithful Latter Day Saints who physically and spiritually made journeys that have brought all of us to the places we are today. I also loved the theme they had chosen for the ward trek...Come Take Your Place. Thus was the beginning of an interesting journey.

Over the last several months, we have been encouraged to prepare physically, spiritually, and emotionally for this experience. A trek committee was formed and it is hard for me to imagine the hours and hours of service that they have dedicated to the preparation and execution of this event. Every month we had some type of pioneer activity that focused on these 3 areas. We were also given papers each month that listed goals and activities we could do to prepare and start to more fully appreciate who these pioneers were and what the purpose of this experience was. We were encouraged to not only physically prepare with becoming physically stronger, collecting the gear we would need, etc. but we were challenged to learn new songs and hymns, memorize scriptures, study the lives of these individuals and understand the gospel more intensely in a number of different ways. This committee truly provided ways for each member of the ward to become engaged in this activity and experience. It has been months of preparation and opportunity and I wish I had taken even better advantage of all they provided and recommended.

This last month has been "crunch" time. Preparing for this trek has taken lots of time and resources. I have to admit that as the time approached, I became more and more stressed about the logistics of preparing for this. Tents, sleeping bags, eating arrangements, clothes, transportation...all the details started to stress me out. The ward members were divided up in to 4 different handcart companies represented by four different colors: red, blue, purple and black. Within each company, we were then divided in to handcart families...2-3 families that would be sharing one handcart. Each person was allowed one 6-7 gallon plastic bucket that could not exceed 17 pounds. Our tents, sleeping stuff, and other camping gear would be hauled up in trailers and waiting for us at our base camp. It was truly a daunting experience to try and prepare for this. I don't know why I felt so overwhelmed and discouraged...especially the final week before we left. A friend shared with me that she was feeling exactly the same way and felt like Satan was really trying to discourage her from going. We even had several families or individuals back out for various reasons just a few days before leaving. Hearing her thoughts intensified my desires to go. I really felt like this had the potential to be a life-changing experience for me and my family and that there was a very real unseen power trying to frustrate our efforts to prepare for this. It was a very real emotional roadblock I felt like I had to get around and we continued to prepare even though the stress continued to mount with all the other responsibilities that were falling around us. Another friend made the comment that she was certain some of the stress we were feeling was representative of the emotions so many of these pioneer women felt except they were having to prepare for a journey with no "home" to arrive at. I thought often of these women during the course of the days leading up to our activity. I wondered how they felt as they tried to anticipate the needs of their families, preparing to set out across a literal wilderness to a destination they knew little about. I wondered about the women forced to leave their homes and farms and flee in the dead of winter from mobs crushing in around them. How did these women choose what to pack? What to take and what to leave behind? How did they handle the stress of taking their little ones out into the cold and trying to help their families prepare for the challenges that lay ahead? I marvel now more than ever at the emotional, spiritual and physical stresses and challenges they faced. I understand in a tiny way more clearly the frustrations and discouragements they had to overcome in order to pack those wagons and set their hearts and faces to Zion. They had to have absolute faith and trust in the Lord and His promises. How did they have faith in those blessings when they were freezing and starving to death and burying their families? How did they find the courage to overcome the discouragement and keep moving? I remember one of my MTC instructors saying that you never heard of a pioneer going inactive on the plains because they were given something to do and had to keep moving. How can I find the strength of mind and heart to keep moving forward and keep actively "engaged" in the gospel, to manuver around the roadblocks and keep an eternal perspective? I left with such gratitude in my heart but also with questions that I was curious to see if pushing these handcarts could help me answer.

I am so grateful for the help I received in preparing. My darling sister Carrie made H. the most exquisite pioneer outfit. She made her a dress, 2 pinafores that I initially wasn't going to be caught dead letting my 3-year old tromp across the dusty plains in and a pair of pantalons that were so cute I wondered if we could just skip the skirt. I bought myself a real pioneer skirt and bonnett and we got the boys outfitted with plaid shirts and boring blue and khaki pants. We all busted out our trusty tennis shoes for the event and I have to say that was my favorite part...all the rustic looking pioneer clothes with the Nike tennis shoes underneath. Hey, I'm sure if the pioneers had had the option, they would have chosen sturdy tennis shoes too.

After months of preparation and planning, it was finally time to go.

We hauled our gear up to the trailers at the church the night before we were supposed to leave. I was giggling at how much stuff everybody had...including our little family. While I was willing to trek across the prairie, I was not willing to sleep in a cow pie under the wagon for 2 nights. We invested in a new air mattress, borrowed a tent the size of a small apartment, and packed enough snacks to bribe our little pioneers across the wilderness. I did pack some beef jerky that we tried to tell our kids was "buffalo" jerky...and I thought the huge bag of Swedish fish lent a sort of "immigrant-ish" feel to the whole snack bucket. I'm sure there were handcart pioneer spirits that got a good laugh out of the stuff we thought was essential for 3 days. Different times...

Well, here I am. Seriously falling asleep at the computer. And I haven't even arrived at the actual trek experience. I have a serious detail problem. But this is my blog...and nobody is twisting your arm to read all of this...although if you stop now, you really are going to miss out on the best parts. So good night for now my little prairie dogs. Come back and visit soon.

Summer Crazies

June is almost over and it makes me sad. Tragically sad. I really love summer. I love watermelon and corn on the cob and barbequing in the backyard. I love the late summer nights where we stay outside until after 9:00 p.m. riding bikes and hanging out with friends and then we all fall asleep watching a movie. I love no school and no homework and no packing lunches. I love reading great books and doing fun projects and going on exciting adventures. I even secretly like sprinklers and the plastic dinosaur pool and rootbeer popsicles even though I hate the accompanying grass in the house and sticky patches on the kitchen floor. I really like summer. So in honor of the passing of June, here are some of the highlights...

Our adventures actually started last May before school even let out. J. made his acting debut in the school play entitled "Sunlight and Moonlight" where he played a demon bear. Yep, a demon bear. He was the 2nd to youngest member of the K-8th grade cast and he did a GREAT job. We had to laugh at the costume that gave him a HUGE wedgie in the back but he loved the face paint and the opportunity to act demonic and crazy.

Our second big event was the birth and then baby blessing of Hazel, one of my new and enchanting nieces. She is perfect and beautiful and I loved being there for her birth and blessing. She lives so far away now so it is especially sweet for me that I got to share those 2 significant events in her life. I really, really think being an aunt is the greatest job in the world!

M. is a preschool graduate. He graduated valedictorian in his class...well, no one came right out and SAID that but we feel certain this is the case. I can't believe my M. is going to be in kindergarten. Sometimes in the middle of the "daily grind" you feel like your kids are never going to be old enough to wipe their own bums or get their own drinks of waters or stop stealing Pop-Tarts out of the cupboard and then you wake up one day and 5 years have passed. It happens just like that and I don't like it. I'm so proud of him and the big boy he is becoming but I mourn at how quickly being "little" just vanishes. I made a secret promise to myself at his graduation that I wouldn't ever wish one single day away but that I would slow down and appreciate these amazing moments with my kids!

On Memorial Day, our family ran in a race to honor Ryan Cox, one of the young fathers in our ward that passed away last March. C. and the kids ran the 1 mile and I ran the 5K...finished in 34 minutes which was great considering I'd never run 3 miles in less than 40 minutes. It also explained why my entire body was screaming in pain and my lungs were on fire. Nothing like a little race adrenaline to cut 6 minutes off your time and almost render you comatose at the finish line. It was a really fun experience though!

Well, C. celebrated his 41st birthday at the very end of May. (Yeah, be scared. We're not even to June yet...) C. is the master cake maker in our house so it's always a little scary when once a year I'm in charge of the cake. This one was super-duper chocolate but I couldn't get the frosting to go on and stick without ripping chunks of cake off the side so at the end I got out a box of candy that I was going to give to a friend and tried to cover the whole mess up with chocolates. It was hilarious and probably a little pathetic but I didn't hear anyone complaining when it was actually time to devour the huge ball of chocolate delight. My husband truly gets younger looking every year...and more and more fabulous. C.'s birthday was followed by J.'s last day of school where we celebrated at Maggie Moo's ice-cream shop with some friends. My oldest is no longer a first grader...sob. (See above paragraph for all the emotions that repeated themselves that day. )

So now we have arrived at June...my darling brother Chip kept us all entertained for the first few weeks with weekly field trips to various local hot spots. He was doing a "Busy Bee School" with his kids while his wife was teaching her class at BYU each week and so we got to do a scavenger hunt at the Monte Bean Museum, had a dinosaur adventure at the BYU Earth Science museum, and a fabulous family day "Renaissance" style at BYU Art Museum. It was great hanging out with cousins and having someone else provide all the entertainment. Their family is now having Busy Bee School adventures in Sweden and France and I can't tell you how pathetic it has made our adventures seem now. But pressing forward...

We have gone swimming at the Rec Center which took all my courage. In the first 5 minutes we were there, a stray band-aid floated pass me in the pool, I picked a black hair off my arm, and when we tried to use the family restroom, we found a puddle of pee on the floor. I can't even write about it because I get light-headed and want to dry heave. We have since made use of the slip-n-slide and plastic dinosaur pool because I refuse to return to human wasteland at the Rec Center. My poor deprived children. We have been on a couple hikes and have discovered a passion for bike riding. We love to head down to the Stake Center and have speed racer races around the parking lot. I challenge any one of you to a race...I can't be beat.

Last week my kids went on a field trip to Heritage Park in Salt Lake City with some good friends of ours who let them each catch a chicken. Apparently my city slicker kids are a little "livestock impaired" but after a little assistance, they each caught their chicken and our friends are graciously housing all the pets in their backyard. J. still holds his chicken like it is a chunk of burning acid but in time we are hoping he develops a little less agricultural fear and embraces his farming side. They had a great time though...Heritage Park is one fabulous find here in the great Beehive State!

Other than that, J. has started piano lessons, H. has decided to start reading, and M. has discovered a passion for anything on wheels that can go really fast. We are enjoying the lazy days of summer that don't seem all that lazy and are gearing up for a ward trek that starts tomorrow. So let the REAL fun begin...stay tuned.

Celebration of Life

I feel like the Lord has been providing some intense tutoring in my life over the last 3 months.

It started last March when a young father in our neighborhood, Ryan Cox, was killed very suddenly and unexpectedly in a motorcycle accident. He left behind an amazing wife and 3 beautiful little girls. Then some dear friends of ours lost their sister/sister-in-law in a terrible car accident. She left behind a sweet husband and 4 beautiful children. This morning another young father in our ward passed away from leukemia also leaving behind a strong, courageous wife and 2 little boys. Erik Rudy fought a courageous battle for 2 years. He and his family aggressively fought the leukemia for a year before finding out he had gone in to remission. This was an absolute miracle given the chances they had presented him when the whole ordeal started. For the last year he has been able to live life with a whole new perspective and energy. But right before Memorial Day, they received the news that the leukemia had returned and last night he passed away peacefully at home with his family. But here is the sweet part of these tragic stories.

On Memorial Day, Erik Rudy helped organize a local race they called "Run For Ryan" where they raised over $15,000 for Ryan Cox's family. Erik said he saw it as a chance to "pay it forward" since this same race had been held in his honor the year before to raise money and show support for his family. On Monday evening, our entire ward met in the park behind the Rudy home where we ate together and took the opportunity to celebrate Erik' life and family. As part of the evening, each family had written their good wishes and blessings for Erik and his family and tied them to yellow balloons. As we sang Erik's favorite song (Army of Helaman), the balloons were released and floated heavenward in a display of genuine love and respect for this amazing man and his family. It was a sweet evening, made even sweeter by the fact that Erik was able to join the celebration for a few minutes despite being so sick.

My sister-in-law suffers from terminal cancer. She has fought an amazing battle for over 7 years now and continues to fight despite so many challenges and obstacles. I asked her once what her feelings were about this trial she has been asked to bear at such a young age and with so much of life ahead of her. She said she went through a very brief period of asking "Why me?" until she received a very strong, powerful answer that said, "Why not you?" She said she realized that of all the people in the world who suffered, she had the incredible blessings of the gospel and testimony of eternal principles that answered that question perfectly. She bore testimony of eternal marriage and families, the power of the priesthood to comfort and heal and sustain, of family and extended family and friends who continually lighten the burden and provide so much needed sustenance at times when life seems too overwhelming, and she bore testimony of the reality of God and our Savior Jesus Christ who see all things perfectly and know and love us with an intensity we can't begin to fathom. There is a plan. We are each loved perfectly.

And so I feel cause to celebrate the lives of these amazing men and women and their families. They have each shown strength, courage and faith that has been awe-inspiring and life changing for those around them. They continue to live life and celebrate the love and joy they have known. And they continue to rejoice in the love and joy that still exists around them. They reach out to others and have been willing to share their experiences that have truly enriched and blessed our lives. These women, men and children and their families are powerful and bring a strength to this world that cannot be matched. It is not a mortal strength but an eternal one and it is powerful. They radiate. I can only hope in my lifetime to emulate their example.

And so while I mourn today I will also rejoice that there is purpose and love and hope. I will celebrate the lives that have truly touched mine for good.

Italian Adventure...Part 452

Crossing the ocean blue on our way back to the mainland. I love ferries and oceans and wind blowing your hair dramatically. I especially love all those things "Italian" style.

My new shoes that I thought I had broken in were not so broken in. And when I went to bandage things up, I discovered I had bought a box of fabulous neon Band-Aids. I looked like a walking Vegas billboard.

Really...you are still reading. Bravo for enduring to the end. I've decided the rest of our trip might need to be summarized in this last blog because I have so many other things to talk about! So here you are...5 days of Italy in one blog.

I can't remember what day we are on...

We arrived in a little town called Cosenza that had been one of the areas C. served in when he was a missionary. He had some amazing experiences in this city that included the conversion of a wonderful man named Maurizio. C. has been back to Italy several times and has kept in contact through the years with this friend. He was anxious to see him and introduce me to this person who has had such an impact on his life.

Maurizio picked us up at the train station and drove us to our hotel. It felt strange to ride in a car after so many days of trains. And I have to say that this hotel took the prize. We ended up in a suite that really was pretty dreamy. I was terrified they had given us the wrong room or that we would discover it was the wrong room when we had to empty our children' college savings the next day to pay for it. It was really nice. We "freshened" up and then went back down to meet Maurizio again. He drove us to his little cafe/restaurant that he owns and fed us heaping mounds of delicious food. C. and he talked and I listened and nodded and just kept eating. It was yummy!

This picture is Maurizio is his "bar" (restaurant). Two days in a row he heaped mounds of food on our plates and kept us eating. I am eternally bonded to him.

Just a side note...I loved watching my husband speak Italian. Not only is he really good at it, but he talks like a real Italian. Animation, hands swinging, head nodding...it was really fun to watch. And occasionally I thought I understood a word or two.

This is me lounging in our "suite". It was a heavenly little place!

After a delightful rest in our "suite", Maurizio picked us up the following day and took us to church. It was "district" conference so it was a perfect day to visit. I think there were probably about 50 people there altogether including members, missionaries, mission presidency, and district leaders. It was probably my most favorite day of the entire vacation. I couldn't understand a word of the meeting, but the Spirit was so strong. Afterwards, because so many of them had travelled such long distances, they had a huge meal and we were immediately invited. I kissed more cheeks and shook more hands and felt more welcome than I have in many other meetinghouses. I admire these members so much. They are a small minority in Italy and many are first generation members. They stand steadfast and immovable in their families, neighborhoods and communities without alot of support. The missionaries we met were so impressive. I was truly impressed by their personalities and testimonies. It is obvious to see that the bar has been raised and the effect these amazing young men are having around the world. It was an amazing afternoon and I truly did not want it to end. I can't wait to serve another mission someday with C. and to have the opportunity to work with so many of the faithful Latter-Day Saints around the world. I love the church!

C. and I with the mission president's wife and an Italian missionary!

C. with his dear friend Maurizio.

I love Italy and I love Italian members and I love missionaries.

But all good things have to end and eventually they pushed me out of the church and back into the car. We spent a little more time with Maurizio at his bar and then he drove us to the train station. It was hard to say good-bye. Even though I couldn't speak the language, I felt a real friendship and connection with Maurizio and it was easy to see how deep and strong he and C.'s friendship is. It was a wonderful and amazing 24 hours!

C. and Maurizio in front of his cafe.

That night we took the train to Salerno. We weren't sure where we were going when we arrived so we dragged our suitcases down the main walking street, through the fog, and hoped for the best. Apparently Sunday evening is the time to dress up and promenade along the walking street. The primary objective is to be seen...it was a great night for serious "people watching". We finally arrived at our hostel and checked in. Now keep in mind...we had just spent time in 3 amazing bed and breakfasts/hotels where each night it just seemed to get better and better. It was bound to bottom out...and I think it happened in Salerno. Since I had been appallingly spoiled, the bare essentials hostel room was a little spooky. Cheap, but spooky. The walls had a little bit of mold here and there, the light in the room cast a strange greenish light on things and the toliet had a couple of assorted black hairs on the seat. The beds were metal cots with blankets we made sure not to touch with bare skin. We played some Uno, ate some beef jerky, and got ready for bed. Once the lights were out, I laid in bed and wondered how long it would be before that infernal dripping sound would put me over the edge. We both finally fell asleep in our individual twin metal cots and dreamed of ocean-side bed and breakfasts and hotel suites.

Me in our hostel accomodations that really weren't that bad except I'd been spoiled rotten in the previous quaint bed and breakfasts.

The next morning, after a yummy breakfast, we checked out and headed for the bus stop. We took a bus on an amazing, harrowing, breathtaking ride up the Amalfi Coast. I don't even know how to describe this experience. It was a 2-lane road that wound up and up and over and down the coast...literally. Most of the time the road was cut right in to the mountain and out the bus window was not only a fantastic, unreal view of the most beautiful scenery and water you have ever seen, but also a literal drop off the cliff. It wound through tiny village towns where sometimes 2 buses would meet and we would creep along and pray we weren't going to hit each other while trying to pass. I really don't know how this bus made it. It was heart pumping the whole way and truly unbelievable. We got off the bus in a town called Positano that is apparently the new "hip" spot for Hollywood these days. The town sits right on the Mediterranean Sea and is built into the mountain. We walked around town and ate at a charming little restaurant surrounded by lemon trees. It was a beautiful, charming town with the green, lush, fog-tipped mountains looming on one side and the crystal blue sea on the other. I've never seen anything like it but I would definitely sell a leg to go back.

Me on the hill overlooking Positano.


More amazing pictures from picturesque Positano.

After a couple of hours in Positano, we boarded the "Bus of Death" again and continued up the coast to the city of Sorrento where we caught a train to Pompeii. I loved Pompeii! It was so, so, so very, very, very cool! (for lack of more intelligent vocabulary) What was truly stunning was turning around seeing Mount Vesuvius looming right there in the background. I rented myself a little self-guided tour and armed with our Rick Stevens print-out, we set out. I loved walking through the ruins and up and down the streets with the imprint of chariot wheels in the stone. I loved hearing the history of these places and walking where these people actually walked. And truth be told, the brothel was utterly fascinating to me...right down to the fresco "menu of potential services" painted on the wall. Those ancient Romans were really creative! Pompeii was beautiful and truly fascinating. We didn't even begin to see all of it but we wanted to be sure we had something to do next time!

Me in front of the entrance to Old Pompeii (top) in the city of Pompeii pointing to Mount Vesuvius.

From top to bottom: A petrified Pompeiian resident, me ordering fast food from an ancient Pompeii fast food restaurant, me sitting on a stone bed in the brothel looking as sexy and seductive as a person with a backpack and no hair dryer on vacation can look, C. in front of more Pompeiian stone, and C. in front of the entrance to Pompeii.

We jumped on the train again and headed for Naples where we grabbed some yummy pizza and then caught our train to Rome. We arrived in Rome late at night and wandered through a choice area of town looking for our bed and breakfast. When we finally found it, the owner led us up and down some more choice parts of town to the room we would be staying in. It was a little scary but when we finally got to the room it was charming and perfect. We had a fantastic thunder and rainstorm the last night we were there which was a perfect end. I threw open the shutters and leaned outside the window and tried to take in this amazing moment! I felt overwhelmed with sadness that it was our last night and yet filled with joy at being reunited with our kids

The next morning rode the train back to the airport and got ready to leave. It was so bittersweet. This trip was amazing and wonderful! Not only was it a chance to see Italy, but it was an opportunity to reconnect with my husband and our relationship. We are a great team! I love being married to him. We are good complements to each other with our strengths and weaknesses and living life with him is sweet. He is an incredible man and our time together is sweet and fun and filled with great adventures and experiences!

So to C., thank you for sharing this beautiful country with me! It was a grand adventure and I love you for all the hard work and effort you put into this trip to make it perfect. I can't wait to see where we end up next!


Ciao!