OK, it's been a while since last we spoke. Here's the update. So, this past weekend, I booked a cabin down in the Teasedale, Utah area. It's close to the Northern entrance to Capitol Reef National Park. I was in desperate need of getting out of the valley and even worse shape at work. On top of that, our anniversary (Stacey and I) was a week ago, and my wilting flowers on the counter were a constant reminder of how I had again put the Army in front of my own spouse by virtue of not only a drill weekend, but going to work on the actual day (the sixth of December) of our anniversary. We worked every possible angle to get the kids to be able to stay with grandparents, or a responsible semi-adult, but to no-avail.
So, in true Chevy Chase cross-country fashion, we loaded up our gas-sipping Honda SUV/"Cross-Over" and headed South. Now, I want you to know right up front, I only had two melt-downs. One was after the baby had cried almost incessantly for two nights and three days, and the other two I blacked out, but I am certain I was either driving or had just told someone not to get close to the sudden 10,000' drop-off for the 42nd time in as many seconds. OK, also you should know that I like Hyperbole so much, I bought the company. Anyhow, I lost my train of thought.
Oh, yeah, so anyhow, I rent this 16x28' cabin. Complete with a little mini-fridge, a full bath, a TV/DVD/VCR combo, a couple of light switches and a heater. Oh, and some blankets, and a screen door. Anyhow, it was rather homey. For $69 bucks a night you cant beat it. Unless of course you had 4 kids less than what you left Salt Lake with.
So where were we? Oh, anyhow, so day one through four are pretty much a blur. We drove down the "Burr" trail, headed over to Escalante to see how the Feds had imposed their Washington will on us, and then skipped on over to Goblin's Knob, or Devil's Garden, or...some...sort of dark-arts moniker representative of the native escarpments and wind-swept canvas. So, the red-rock, the white rock, the Hair-band Rock all culminated in a complete picture of the Southern, Utah experience. In fact, at one point, I contemplated jumping the Family Truckster over a fifty-foot drop off and sharing a beer with Rusty. But, we just plum ran out of time.
From thence we made our way back to the cabin nightly to make chicken and stove-top, minus the stove-top, and the chicken. We had something like Hamburger Helper, but I say it does just fine on it's own. We even bought travel-size ketchup and mustard and failed to open them. Nightly we'd watch movies after sundown (you better take care if I find you been creepin' 'round my back stair) and dish out icecream by the spoonful. There was plenty of hot water and electricity, and I must say, "A good time, was had by all".
You know while we were down there, I had a vision. See, I'm a visionary fellah if I do say so my dang self. I pictured us, not too many years into the near future, living in Teasedale or the immediate vicinity. It just felt like home. Now, ask me what I'm going to do for money and I have no idea. I do like the idea of having five such "mini-cabins" and renting them out to well-meaning but "citi-fied" folk such as we used to be to supplement my military retirement income. Stacey of course says I should be a writer, at which I am certainly entertaining. However, as yet, no publisher has come knock, knock, knocking on my chamber door for a set of manuscripts. Plus I'll need to invest in learning how to Spellcheck and I'm just not so sure this old dog can learn too many more new tricks.
So, that's it in a nutshell folks. No animals were hurt during the making of this diatribe/memory. We made good memories. I made them laugh, I made them cry. I hope that the incomplete nature of the vision is made known. I'd like to know God's plan for us. I'd like to even play along and help that particular plan to remain in motion. But, much like everything else in this life, I'll just take it on faith that ten or fifteen years from now, I'll see the lillypad nature to where I'll be standing, and the leaps of faith along the way that got us there.
OK kids, I gotta run. I'm in charge of a bottle and picking up a dance class participant. No rest for the wicked and...well, let's just leave it at that. Take care, color inside the lines and treat others the way you'd like to be treated. Oh and one last thing, if you must pick your nose, please stop somewhere short of the second knuckle, as otherwise you just look back-woods and unsophisticated.
See you later meow. 'till then.
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