Saturday, September 24, 2011

Dirty Dash

So I participated in a 10/5K (it was a 10 K, but had a 5 K short cut - I wussed out and took the 5K.) today. Volunteered last week. It was a blast! However, I will be blowing muddy boogers out of my nose for days, I'm sure.



Those shorts were baby blue this morning.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

I was in...

Today everyone's Facebook status' seemed to start with "I was in..." and then the setting was placed. No more explanation was needed. Everyone knows that they are referring to where they were at the time they found out about the terrorist attacks on 9/11/2001.

I was outside at school, in my zero hour band class, practicing for our upcoming competitions. We, as a drumline, had come back inside to practice with the pit that had stayed inside, while the rest of the band were still outside on the football field. When we walked into the band room, we were surprised to see the TV on, much less the news. It was at this time we found out that the both towers had been hit by airplanes just minutes apart.

A few minutes after we started to sit and watch, another plane flew into the Pentagon and then reports of another crash, one in a field in Pennsylvania. We were confused, dismayed, and unable to process the severity of this situation - it was far beyond anything we had ever expereienced and known in our short life time. We had heard of attacks that had occured at another time and another place, attacks such as Pearl Harbor and the Oklahoma City bombing, but for the first time in our young lives, were we able to distinguish pure, unadulterated evil from "just" a tragic event.

I remember going to second period and watching the news while teachers in the back of the barrack were talking about how this happened in a book. I remember watching President Bush on the TV and feeling a swell of pride and justice when, without a single bit of hesitancy, he waged a war on terror. Immediately, I wondered what this would mean for my friends, my young, male friends, specifically.

Then I remember walking from class to class, much like a zombie, oblivious to my surrounding, yet at the pace of a cheetah because I dare not walk slowly between classrooms - nay, between TV's - just in case I missed something else.

But as the day progressed, I drew out of my zombie-like state and started to notice people in the corners of the hallways crying. People who had heard that a loved one was on that flight, or had a dad that worked in the World Trade Center or the Pentagon. My heart went out to them and immediately I thanked my Heavenly Father that I knew where my family was and subsequently prayed for those who didn't.

Then a miracle happened, the American people were awakened, ready to step up because that is what is bred in us as Americans. Flags started to show up everywhere, humanitarian efforts were taking place left and right. Sure, some tempers flew, but overwhelmingly we drew together, offered support in way of means, time and talent.

I remember the speculation of every "What if.." I remember being worried about them coming to New Mexico and attacking White Sands Missle Range. I remember, in the following months, being worried about the Winter Olympics in Utah; thinking that they could attack the chemical depot where nuclear waste is stored, just a few dozen miles from my sister at a time when much of the world's attention was focused on one place.

I remember everytime I played or heard the National Anthem of the United States of America, I was brought to tears and had goosebumps on every inch of my body. I remember being so proud to belong to a country wherein we were able to enjoy the freedoms and liberty secured for us by our Founding Fathers.
I remember in the years following, friends, expected and not, that enlisted in the military because they never forgot how they felt that day. I admire them and their families. They are absolutely heroes. Brave and courageous and willing to do what most won't because they knew they could serve their country and try to secure justice for those that had no chance that fateful day.

I will never forget that day and the days, weeks, months that followed. I pray that those who lost loved ones in will some way, some how, find the peace that they are seeking and that those whose lives were shortened by the hate of others will be honored and remembered and that the feeling of unity and patriotism may once again find its place in this country once again. I pray that no other innocent people will fall victim to such evil and that I may do my part to prevent it from happening - no matter how small my efforts may be.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Montana. One of My Most Favorite Places. Ever.

This past weekend, I had one last getaway before school starts in Montana. It was absolutely fantastic. Good weather, good fun, good times with family - especially with family I hadn't seen in, literally, decades, and of course, whenever Thomas is around and has a new audience, the mandatory good food.

However, (every time I type/say/think "however," I hear my Dad's voice in my head saying, "However, comma." I have never known him to just say however in a conversation and finish his thought, he always actually says, and I quote, "However, comma, . . .")

Where was I? Oh, yes. However, there were hornets. And mean ones, to boot. Apparently in Superior, Montana this year, they have been bad and aggressive. Not just at the round house because no one was there to shoo them away, but just all around bad in the area. Within an hour of getting there, I was stung on the foot and Thomas scouted out a gigantic nest in the eaves of the house and killed it with two cans of wasp and hornet killer.





The next day, Thomas and Aiden were outside playing football and some hornets started swarming Thomas, so he ran in with Aiden and a few minutes later, Aiden started screaming and pulling at his leg because he was getting stung multiple times by a stinkin' hornet.



So we went on a Nest Hunt again. We knocked some down, Thomas was swarmed by some hornets again and ran off, lost his footing and did a cool, looked-like-it-was-on-purpose ninja roll and ended up bruising his ribs because he landed on a rock. Fantastic.

Then on Sunday, my nieces and nephews were playing Cops and Robbers, and my niece was stung, and then we went down to the river and my poor little girl was stung behind the ear.





Other than that, it was a great trip. Probably the best trip to Montana yet.