Earl

For those of you who may have known my Grandpa Earl or heard me brag about my hero, he passed away peacefully last night in a care center in Bountiful. He was 89 years old and just had an amazing outlook on life and had much to teach those around.
Love ya Grandpa!! You will be missed.

AnnMarie is a rocker!

I have discovered that AnnMarie always wakes up and moves around when Xavier Rudd is playing. I noticed it when we put the CD into one the of the cars I drive sometimes. At first is was just one song in particular - "Land Rights"...below, but now every time he comes on at all she moves. I have many playlists at work that I listen to including the one linked to this site. Each of them includes Xavier Rudd as he is one of my favorites. It doesn't matter the time of day or what I am doing she always moves around when he comes on. We discussed that she probably loves the digereedoo and the vibrations.
We have been taking her to as many concerts as we can. She reacts to the music each time...Donavan Frankenreiter, Brett Dennen, and last night to Michael Franti. Unfortunately after last weekend we decided it was best if I didn't go, but Tyson went and called me so I could hear some of my favorites. I shared with AnnMarie by holding the phone to my belly. She seemed to love Cherine Anderson's remake of Bob Marley's "Redemption Song," and of course who couldn't love Michael Franti. I can just feel her dancing around. Last night would have been her third Michael Franti show. Before she was big enough to feel we took her to 2 others.
I guess it runs in the family...she is already taking after Tyson in her love of music.

The "Toad" that got away

Lately we have taken some time to get out into nature with the fishing poles.
About 6 weeks ago Tyson's dad called giddy about his day fishing at Bear Lake. He had just reeled in a 14 pound cutthroat. Yes, 14 pound trout. Of course, our plans changed and we headed up there after work Saturday and spent Sunday on the lake. I was beautiful and we ended up with some really nice fish...although none quite like that. In fact, if Wes hadn't caught a lake trout the same size I might have called fish story on Mike, but there it was.
Two weeks ago we headed up the canyon from Challis, ID for 5 days of Steelhead fishing. Last year Tyson allowed me to tag along on this fishing trip with his Dad and brother. I think the only reason I was invited back this year was because they didn't have to eat hot dogs the whole time. For whatever the reason, I really loved it both years. Last year I caught one more than Ty. This year one less...but I will argue that because of my big belly weight pressing on my feet I also didn't fish as much as Tyson and if I had I would have once again out-fished my husband. It was so nice to be up there on the beautiful Salmon river. I took a couple books and finished two that I had been reading. I loved Edgar Sawtelle...but it has a plot very similar to Hamlet so be warned if you plan to pick it up.

Mike's friend Terry was up there too and was so sweet to take me under his wing and show me a few fishing tips. He is a great fisher, and a great teacher!! One tip he had was a secret spot he fishes from. When I dropped the jig in the water a huge fish took it. I mean huge!! Tyson said it was bigger than any Steelhead he has seen. For those of you, like myself, who don't know a big fish is referred to as a "toad." My toad unfortunately was a little upset by the hook, understandably, and jumped out of the water twisting and turning and running the line out. He was a smart old fish, and he twisted the hook right out of his mouth. :( In the end, I did hook the biggest fish, but didn't get it to the shore so I can't technically say I outfished Tyson this year, but the five of us that were there know the truth.
On a side note: a) we left our camera sitting on the table at home so until I borrow Mike's I can't show off our pictures. b) As we visited my grandpa last Sunday he informed us that he cannot remember a time that his wife did not out-fish him. Then again, I do have her middle name...Marie. AnnMarie also was given that name so Tyson may just have to get used to the idea of his wife and soon daughter out-fishing him. :)

Ode to my Toad...and a future fisher

The Fish
By Elizabeth Bishop

I caught a tremendous fish
and held him beside the boat
half out of water, with my hook
fast in a corner of his mouth.
He didn't fight.
He hadn't fought at all.
He hung a grunting weight,
battered and venerable
and homely. Here and there
his brown skin hung in strips
like ancient wallpaper,
and its pattern of darker brown
was like wallpaper:
shapes like full-blown roses
stained and lost through age.
He was speckled and barnacles,
fine rosettes of lime,
and infested
with tiny white sea-lice,
and underneath two or three
rags of green weed hung down.
While his gills were breathing in
the terrible oxygen
--the frightening gills,
fresh and crisp with blood,
that can cut so badly--
I thought of the coarse white flesh
packed in like feathers,
the big bones and the little bones,
the dramatic reds and blacks
of his shiny entrails,
and the pink swim-bladder
like a big peony.
I looked into his eyes
which were far larger than mine
but shallower, and yellowed,
the irises backed and packed
with tarnished tinfoil
seen through the lenses
of old scratched isinglass.
They shifted a little, but not
to return my stare.
--It was more like the tipping
of an object toward the light.
I admired his sullen face,
the mechanism of his jaw,
and then I saw
that from his lower lip
--if you could call it a lip
grim, wet, and weaponlike,
hung five old pieces of fish-line,
or four and a wire leader
with the swivel still attached,
with all their five big hooks
grown firmly in his mouth.
A green line, frayed at the end
where he broke it, two heavier lines,
and a fine black thread
still crimped from the strain and snap
when it broke and he got away.
Like medals with their ribbons
frayed and wavering,
a five-haired beard of wisdom
trailing from his aching jaw.
I stared and stared
and victory filled up
the little rented boat,
from the pool of bilge
where oil had spread a rainbow
around the rusted engine
to the bailer rusted orange,
the sun-cracked thwarts,
the oarlocks on their strings,
the gunnels--until everything
was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow!
And I let the fish go.