Quick Trip to Burley

Last week my cute, fun little sister Kristen and her husband Nick made the journey to Idaho from their home in Wichita, so I packed up the kids and spent an amazing 28 hours in Burley. I know some people have attitudes about *Idaho* ("Ohhhh, you're from Idaho...") and to those people I want to say, yes, it is a terrible place, never go there. We don't want you!! As for me, I can't even look at these pictures without feeling a profound homesickness for my home state. I miss the open fields, the sprinklers clacking away in the distance, the crickets chirping in the night, the soft, luscious grass, and most of all, my family. 

All ten of the little cousins made the trip to see Kristen and were treated to endless 4-wheeler rides by my Dad.  My parents' lawn is so huge. I thought it was a curse when I was a kid because we had to mow the thing and then rake it! The whole thing! It took hours. But it taught me to work and turned me into the person I am today. So I guess I have that giant lawn to thank for many good things in my life, including fun times for my kids.

My mom has always had holly hocks. They just seem like home to me. Aaron, you can enter this picture into the fair if you want. Ha ha.

The action really gets going when Grandma gets on the golf cart and whips everyone around. I love how Dallin is dragging behind the sled, Katelyn is surfing, Taylor is running toward the action and Abby and Luke are just along for the ride on the 4-wheeler.

Here's Kristen and her cute little friends, Tank and Lucy. What is more perfect than this picture (minus the sniffing)? The green grass, the yellow wheat that matches the dogs, sprinklers in the distance, the church I grew up with, and my long-lost sister gracing the scene in her pink shirt. Love and miss.

The homestead in all its glory. Those were my windows that you see on the top.

Abby loved peeking out of the playhouse.

Dallin of course brought his toy bow and spent a lot of time shooting straight up in the air at birds. I was surprised that he could actually hit them most of the time. Don't worry, the end of the arrow is a pencil eraser (but I'm sure the birds still got a good little shock when they got thwacked). I love how Dallin is looking up in the sky for an arrow to fall, Luke is hanging on the tree, and Katelyn is just basking in the grass. Nothing is really in focus except the tree leaves, but I think it kind of makes it look like heaven.

I know I often preach about Burley sunsets, but seriously people, can you beat this? Look at these two free birds out on the range. Kids were meant to stand on long green grass and gaze up into the sky on a summer's evening. That's just how it is.

This is a scene of much action and I LOVE it! Dallin stepped on a bee, so Nick, who is a doctor, is removing the stinger. Katelyn is looking gorgeous, Kristen is making her classic face, Halli is peeking around the corner at her mom walking in holding Austin's hand, and Jake is chillin' with his hand down the back of his diaper. Wassup?

Of course we had to "fill the bump" as we call it. The huge grassy hill in my parents' yard has a hole on one side and my dad has it rigged up to fill with irrigation water with a big pipe (providing the sprinklers in the field are on).  Luke and Katelyn are riding a kayak down the giant vinyl billboard sign that we use as a slip and slide and Dallin is lugging his kayak to the top. 

Oh, good times, good times.

Luke just had to go for a little dip all by himself when the action has ceased. This picture is bittersweet to me because Luke took a bad spill on his bike later in the week into a barbed wire fence and had to have his face stitched up in a few places (post to follow). I see his perfect skin in this picture and my heart just breaks. But I'm so glad he's okay.

So that's our trip to Burley. And yes, all my siblings who live far, far away, this was meant to make you homesick. Move back! Now! I'm not kidding. We need you.

Family Outings: Blessing or Curse?

Ah, summer. Three months of pure bliss with our perfect children, enjoying unstructured days of love, and of course, infamous family outings. Let's be honest for a minute here. Does anyone really like family outings? Is it ever really worth it to leave the house WITH the kids? No matter how adorable, charming and glorious they may appear on Facebook and blogs, I KNOW almost all family outings are actually exercises in torture in more ways than one. Do the few picture-perfect moments make them worth it? I am totally up in the air on this one. It's a good thing I have an adventurous, motivated, thrill-seeking husband who actually wants to experience life with the kids and makes the effort to see that it happens. Or I might never leave my house. Not joking.

Let's examine a recent little outing that had its fair share of ups and downs. I'm still trying to decide if the whole experience was worth the... effort.

It began as most of our outings tend to begin, with a hunting motivation in mind. Jason drew out for a deer tag out by Vernon, which is west of Lehi. Way west. What a perfect excuse to go on a little family picnic/fishing trip to Vernon Reservoir while scouting for deer and basking in our love for each other all at the same time. If you haven't been to the classy V.R. or heard of it, it's probably because you haven't gotten drunk, beat your kids and threw trash in a lake lately, because everyone we saw out there was doing all three of those things in random order. Also, public urination was involved in all three. And yes, there were two quite nice "porter potties" (as my kids call them) nearby. I'm assuming they were in such good condition because they never get used. Lucky for us.

Moving on. As we drove out through the lone and dreary desert on our way to the VR, we encountered an approaching train. A very long approaching train. We were in the middle of absolutely positively nowhere. I don't even know where the track came from. Suddenly it was just there in front of us, and there was a train on it. We were about two seconds too late to make it across, so we sat and merrily counted train cars. For a very long time. The train went and went and went. Until it stopped, never to move again. We couldn't see the end in either direction, which is saying a lot, because I'm sure we could almost see the north and south poles from our position in the vast wilderness. The husband was not impressed.

So, what does a huntin' man with an agenda do when he can't go over it, and he can't go under it or even through it? He must go around it. This, despite all obstacles, which include: a begging wife, frightened children, a sign that says, "DO NOT ENTER" and the absence of an actual road. "I'm sure we can get across somewhere," he says with bravado as he peels through the dirt onto the... path next to the train track. 

Tense moments ensued. I had the thought, "This is some mighty fine blogging material, I should get out my camera," but the thought was quickly squelched by a glance at the determined and, shall we say, humorless husband across the truck from me. We continued on the path of terror for quite some time. It didn't get any better. In fact, it got significantly worse. After about 15 minutes/years, we passed the front of the train. Unfortunately, we were now separated by a large barbed wire fence and a steep incline to the track, both of which made passage impossible.

"There must be a crossing somewhere out here," came the grumbles, admist Mormon curse words (ie. "flippin' shiz-bitin' monkey-liver crap-headed train drivers", etc), from the driver's seat. Against my better judgement, I used the time to educate my children on why patience is a virtue and how if you simply wait and think positive thoughts, all the trains in your life will eventually move out of the way and let you through unscathed (not true, but that didn't stop me). What did stop me was the same thing that stopped the whole adventure: a sudden series of giant holes in the ground, impossible to see in front of us because of the six-foot high sage brush we were barreling through at near sonic speed. 

Suddenly, the truck was leaping through the air, carrying six terrified passengers with it. There was a crash. A burst of light (not really). A shower of glass. Screaming (that was me). Then all was quiet in the jungle. What in the living heck just happened?

I guess the 4-wheeler in the back of the truck must have been feeling lonely and wanted to join in all the fun and love going on in the front of the truck, because it came right through the window and showered all of us in shards of glass, especially the three frightened little souls strapped into the back seat. That was a bad moment, I'm not gonna lie. 

Jason and I jumped out of the steaming truck and tried to calm the kids while we unbuckled them and lifted them out of their glass blanket and onto the dusty, thorn-covered ground. Thanks to the design of modern vehicle glass and the mercy of heaven above, there was not a single cut on any of the kids. We swept out the truck the best we could with our bare hands and broke out the rest of the window to prevent further tragedy. 

Now that we were stopped, we could read the sign that was looming a few yards ahead of us, which had been previously obstructed by the fact that we were in motion, sailing through the air toward it, aware only of a bright orange blur on the ground somewhere far beneath us.

It read, "Warning: Explosives Testing Ground. Do Not Enter." 

Ohhhhh. So that's why we weren't supposed to enter. Got it.

It was during this time that the train passed us by, mocking our misfortune with each clack of its wheels. We tried not to make eye contact. 

As we drove sheepishly back the way we came, Abby said, "Look, Mom, mist!" I turned around to see the truck being filled with clouds of heavy, lung-sucking dust. All I could do was smile in my heart as I pulled the neck of my shirt up over my mouth to ensure oxygen. It only took a small amount of self-control to not say a word about being right, right, right. I was able to do this because I was so relieved that we could finally just head home. Wrong, wrong, wrong.  

Later, after the mist had settled.

This didn't stop the family outing from coming. It came. Somehow or other, it came just the same. As we finally crossed the now-clear train track, I took a deep, dust-filled breath and prayed that we would someday cross this track again, on our way home, and that it would be sooner rather than later.

We arrived at the VR, stepped over feces, cooked up our tin foil dinners, fished whole-heartedly (some of us), were insulted by fellow reservoir-dwellers, and called it good.

Now it was time to drive through the hills and look for deer. The evening became very pleasant and the roads weren't quite as dusty. We were in good spirits because #1, we were still alive, and #2, the truck was still running. There were a lot of attractive bucks roaming the hills (according to Jason) and it was actually kind of enjoyable. We drove and drove and drove.

And then I saw it. A humble, wise creature, perched atop a fence post. An owl. A real owl! There to bless our fortune and misfortune and make the whole trip (possibly) worth it.

I made Jason slam on the brakes, and as we skidded through gravel and dirt once again, I exclaimed, "Kids, do you know how rare this is? We have never seen an owl in the wild before! Ever! And now there is one right in front of us, just waiting for me to take his picture!" I snapped away as he looked at us with pity and respect. A moment later, he took flight, probably to go tell all his friends about us.

We drove away with reverence at what had just happened. But that wasn't the end of the owl sightings. Suddenly, the kids were yelling that there was another one! Then a few moments later, another one after that! How could this be? Were we being blessed in owls to make up for our abundant misfortune/lack of judgement on somebody's part that wasn't mine? In the end we saw a total of eleven owls. Eleven!

We drove home as the full moon settled over the desert and it was finally too dark to spot any more deer unless they bounded in the road in front of us. We had a fun little stop at the one and only store/gas station in the town of Vernon. It was closed, with a hand-written sign on the door that read, "Sorry, we are out of gas until Monday." I'm very grateful that we were not also out of gas; otherwise, we might still be there. I was about to snap a picture of the quaint little note, but the owner of the gas station suddenly appeared, probably startled and astonished by the presence of actual humans at his store. He let Jason in to buy each of us our very own ice cream bar. I didn't even worry about the sticky bath of goo that my children were creating in the dusty back seat as they worked on their ice cream. I was just grateful to be going home. In one piece.

If you've seen the movie The Fantastic Mr. Fox, which I highly recommend, you are familiar with the closing scene in which Mr. Fox points out some universal truths. One is that all foxes are slightly allergic to linoleum... but it's cool to the paw. And that they say their tree may never grow back... but someday something will. In the wisdom of Mr. Fox, family outings might be pain and torture... but they provide memories. It might cost $228 to repair the back window of a truck that an airborne 4-wheeler sailed through... but now the new window has a convenient sliding door. I guess good can come from all things. But I'm curious to know... do YOU think family outings are worth it? Please answer my question: Family Outings, Blessing or Curse? You may reply with a simple B or C. Dish away.

Summa Time and the Livin's Easy

This summer feels like a time warp to me. I can't believe it's already July, but it seems like about 6 years since the school bus came and swallowed up my kids in the morning and  provided me with a day of relative peace. I'm not wishing the summer away, by any means, I'm just amazed that we've made it this far. And we are still trucking along. Here are a few (thousand) of the summer's highlights.

Dallin participated in the Pinewood Derby. His car was called Angry Buck and included a set of horns that Jason sawed off one of Dallin's toy deer the night before the race. Dallin's car was voted Most Likely to Get Shot. The Scouting Program and Me is still an area I am working on loving. Right now, we like each other. Someday I will be a Great Scouting Mom and actually work on requirements during the week. 

We have spent many, many hours at the ball park this year watching Dallin. He loves baseball and has done really well. I am proud of all his hard work and dedication. His team made it to the state tournament, which is yet to come, so our baseball days are far from over this season. I have enjoyed learning more about the sport of baseball (they really steal bases and don't get in trouble?) but I have not enjoyed wrestling Jake for hours on end. I am honestly considering a dog kennel for him, or at least some kind of portable fenced-in dog run.

We've had several fun fishing trips.  I'm grateful to have a husband who loves to take the kids fishing, even though I struggle with fishing because it seems like such a lose/lose situation to me. If the fish aren't biting, by darn we are going to sit there until they do. If the fish are biting, by darn we are going to sit there till the end of time because we can't waste such a golden opportunity. The worst is when a fish bites right at the beginning, and then never again. I sit and watch myself grow older.

  

Yay, Luke got one! Now we can stay for six more hours.

This was a fun camping trip at East Canyon Resort for Jason's mission reunion. It was nice because we could  camp on grass! I loved the lack of dirt and rocks. It was also fun to meet a lot of people from Jason's mission and see his mission president again.

The fire on the mountain by Saratoga Springs provided lots of excitement.  We watched it burn down the mountain and cover the sun with smoke. I am so grateful to all those who helped get it under control and save so many homes!

Yikes, the flames!!!

We drove out and watched the helicopter filling up with water at Utah Lake and then fly over us in a blaze of glory to dump it on the fire. It gave me goosebumps to watch! I was so proud of the little helicopter guy. 

We had a fun night at the Timpanogos Archery Range. It is so beautiful and cool up there and so close. The kids LOVE to go shoot bows and roam through the hills.

Jason walking with his little herd toward the shooting course. I just love to see that little pack of rats from behind. 

Luke was in love with the huge weeds that you blow the little white thingies off of. I mean, what are those things? They aren't giant dandelions. Whatever they are, there are going to be a lot more of them now.

Jake fell in love with all the targets and I had a hard time dragging him away from all his new "puppies". He pretty much thinks all animals are puppies, especially horses. Except actual puppies, he calls those "dogs".

Another beautiful puppy to love. Am I the only one who thinks hunting targets are freaky?

Luke LOVES birds. His whole life revolves around birds (and Pokemon cards). He has been looking forward to the bird show at the Hutchings Museum since last year during Lehi Roundup Days and he was so excited to go see all his fine feathered friends again. This is some kind of falcon. Luke's dream in life is to have a pet condor. For now he has to settle for watching all the turkey vultures that circle around Lehi with their cool red heads and hooked beaks.

Abby loves owls and she was excited to get close to this little guy.

We found two frogs in our yard last week. One was alive and the other was... frozen. In time. I had to use all my restraint to keep from screaming when the "frozen" frog was brought into my house. He was all stretched out in a swimming position and hard as a rock. I mean, the look on his face... it still haunts my dreams. Shudder.

I used to be just like this when I was a kid. All happy about a frog and willing to touch the slimy little thing for hours on end. What happened to me? Why can't I touch animals anymore? Or kids who have been touching animals, or anything that kids who have been touching animals have touched? I'm afraid the thing my kids will remember most about me is the question, "Have you washed your hands with soap?" Sad, I tell you. Sad.

Jake wasn't so sure about the frog. Maybe I should put a guard frog by the front door to prevent this child from jumping ship since he has now learned to unlatch the deadbolt and open the door. I can officially never relax again.

We went to the Horse Parade in Lehi and Jake was thrilled to see so many "puppies" at once. He yelled "Hi puppy! Hi puppy!" for about 45 minutes.

Lots of fun cousins watching the parade.

We went to the annual Crane family reunion in Bennington, Idaho and had a great time. We camped in a tent the first night. The moon was so bright we didn't even need flashlights inside the tent! My parents brought their trailer so we had all the necessities. It was great.

This is my Grandma and Grandpa Crane's house where my mom grew up. I love this place and have so many memories here. I loved taking my kids there and showing them around.

Abby and Luke had fun exploring my grandma's attic. Apparently there is a bat problem up there. My Aunt Wilma showed us the guano and everything. I wanted to stay and try to catch a bad so badly, but we didn't have time. I hope the bats are still there the next time I visit. Then I will get my pet bat for SURE!

Abby was my little hiking partner. My relatives own this canyon and it is amazing to be there and think of  my grandpa herding sheep in these very same hills so many years ago. It is so peaceful to me. I think it feels like holy ground.

We always get a big breakfast with all the fixin's. Sometimes I look around and think, I can't believe I am related to all these people! But I am, and I am so grateful. My relatives are the BEST people on earth.

The fun family pic up in the canyon. Dirty and stinky and having the time of our lives. Such is summer. Lack of soap and all.

Me, My Feet and the Road

Kind of like I don't know why the old lady swallowed the fly, I don't know why I decided to do a marathon. It just kind of fell into my lap, so I went with it. A few months ago, my friend Cami needed a running partner for an early-morning ten mile run. I told her I would give it my best shot for five miles. I was so nervous the night before. I hadn't run in a long time and I had no idea if I would be able to keep up or finish the whole five miles. However, the next morning I felt great. When our friend Jen met us at mile 5, I decided to keep going. I have rarely run with other people and I was having so much fun it hardly felt like I was running at all. I surprised myself by finishing the ten miles and wanting to run more. Cami was training for the Utah Valley Marathon and I went with her on several morning runs before she said, "Look, you are already on pace to train for this marathon. Why don't you just do it?" The race was sold out, but my good friend Alicia was registered for it and was injured, so in a crazy moment, I bought her entry. And the rest is history!!!

Three weeks before the marathon we did our 20-miler. I felt really good, but my knees were bothering me. I must have been running differently to compensate, because later the top of my right foot began to hurt. My knees were fine, but my foot got worse and worse. I finally got it x-rayed and it didn't show a stress fracture, but the doctor told me not to run until the marathon unless it felt completely better. So I didn't. I ran a few miles here and there, but as soon as it started bothering me I would stop (doctor's orders!). It's funny how up to this point I had been so nervous and panicked about running the marathon, but as soon as I thought I might actually not be able to do it, I was determined to run it and not let anything stop me. My biggest fear was that after all the training and work I wouldn't be able to run the race. And I wanted to run it more than anything.

On Friday night at 10 pm I found myself setting my alarm clock for 2:30 am and it hit me that I really am crazy. But there was no turning back. At 3 am, I hopped in the car with Cami and we headed to Provo. It was so strange to be getting on a bus in the middle of the night and heading up the canyon. It didn't seem real. The hardest part was huddling over a fire, waiting for over an hour for the race to begin. Finally, finally at 6 am, just as the sun began to rise over the mountain, the horn sounded and we were off! 

It was a beautiful morning, windy but not too cold. The race course is mostly downhill, which is great... unless you have knee problems. At about mile 6, I realized I was in trouble. My knees started hurting, and then my foot joined in. I started going slower and slower, and finally told Cami to please go ahead of me. I know she had a really hard time leaving me behind, but I knew I had to take this one mile at a time and go at my own pace. There was never a question in my mind if I would finish or not, it was just a matter of enduring through the pain. Some people said the race had more uphill than they expected and it was harder than they thought it would be. To me, uphill was relief. It felt so good to be using different muscles and I felt great passing all those walkers. Then the downhill would hit. 

It was a really interesting experience running the race by myself. I hadn't expected it at all, and I thought it would be hard. I love running with Cami and we have so much fun together. I didn't think it was possible for me to get through it without her. But once I was there, and it was just me, my feet and the road, I kind of felt like it was meant to be that way. She got me that far, and then I did it on my own. I loved every minute of it. 

That sounds strange. I was in so much pain, but I never once thought of quitting, or even wanted to quit in the slightest. A few times ambulances went by with their sirens on. Other runners around me would joke about wishing they would stop and get them. I couldn't believe my ears. I wanted to say, "How dare you want to end this! This is our race! We are doing this!" Every step, every breath felt like a gift. As each mile passed, I would think, "Oh, no, only thirteen miles now. Only ten miles now. Only five..." and so on. 

At each water station I would walk for a few steps and take a cup of Powerade and then water, then take a deep breath and keep running. It was slow going, but I never gave in and walked. At mile 23 I had the best pick-me-up I could ask for. My friend Karla, her little boy Anthony, and Alicia were standing at the sideline, holding balloons, cheering and waving. I was so happy to see them! I kissed Anthony on the top of his head. He's probably still in shock. 

Alicia hopped right out on the road and ran with me for the next three, the hardest three miles. It was amazing to realize how much I needed her right then! For the first time in the race, exhaustion hit. My knees and feet seemed to go numb and I was so tired. My legs were heavy. I didn't know if I could pick up my feet one more time. But she talked me through it. She ran beside me, encouraged me, told me how proud she was, and I know she meant it. It was like she carried me to the end of the course. With just .2 miles left, she hopped back to the sideline and let me finish.

I know it was so hard for Alicia to not be running the race herself. She is an amazing runner and has been an inspiration to me ever since I met her. I'm so humbled that she would make the effort to be there for me and help me through it. When I bought her entry she was so excited for me. She told me, "Your first marathon is a life-changing experience." I didn't really understand what she meant until yesterday. 

Just being there, just doing something that I never thought was possible, was powerful in a way I can't describe. I thought about life, about the obstacles I face and the people who support me. I thought about how when it comes right down to it, it is just me. Me, my feet and the road. Me, my determination and my path in life. Life is what I make of it. No matter what comes my way, I decide what I will do with it. What if I really can do anything? What do I really want in life? It is a very humbling thought.

As I approached the finisher's chute, I saw my family standing by the side of the road. They were cheering, taking pictures and going crazy. It was one of the best sights I have ever seen. My mom and dad, my brother Aaron, my brother Ryan and his kids, my sister Alison and her kids, and of course, Jason, Dallin, Luke, Abby and Jake. I don't know if I've ever felt so much love in my life. I know they had waited out there for a very long time and made great sacrifices to be there for me. For me. Me and my crazy idea to run a marathon. 

I was very emotional as I entered the runner's chute and crossed the finish line. Cami was waiting for me and  gave me a huge hug and held me up as I tried to process the fact that I had actually done it. I had finished a marathon and made one of the biggest accomplishments of my entire life. I never would have done it without her.

I wish I had more pictures of the people who were there to support me. I didn't get any pictures with Cami, Alicia or Karla, but I am so thankful for their support. I am also very grateful to my sister Kristen who ran the Boston Marathon this year and encouraged me through texts for much of the race. I would send her the mile number I was running past and I know she was living the race right along with me. I received so many good luck calls and messages before the race. My mother-in-law brought me a huge basket of pre-race goodies and pampering items a few nights before the race and it meant so much to me. Jason and my kids supported me from the first minute to the last. I know there were many prayers on my behalf as well. I am humbled by all the wonderful people in my life. I truly have the best friends and family anyone could ever ask for.

A few of my little spectators.

Final stretch!

My cheering section. Oh, how I love them all!

I did it, I did it, I really did it!!!

My Epic Post-Marathon Meal

I guess it says something about me that I get almost as excited about the food I get to eat after the marathon as I am about the marathon itself. Yesterday I finished the race at around 11 am, and try as I might, I could not stomach any food until 8 pm. This is a big disappointment, people! I grabbed a Creamie Popsicle and a carton of chocolate milk in the finisher's box (or whatever they call it), and immediately regretted it. Way too sick. Too sick to eat at Rumbi with my family on the way home. Too sick to even enjoy the famous Perfect Chocolate Chip Cookies my friend Sierra brought over after the race. Then at about 7:30 pm, I was lying in my bed, writhing around, and I realized I didn't need to writhe anymore. In fact, I actually felt... hungry! Yes!!! All my hard work had finally paid off. But then a strange thing happened. I realized that for perhaps the first time in my entire life, I wasn't in the mood for anything sweet. Huh? Who is this person, I wondered, who finishes marathons and suddenly doesn't have the urge to bury her hand in a bag of chocolate chips? I went into the kitchen to find out. All my favorite healthy foods beckoned to me and I had to snap a picture before I dove into what was one of the best-tasting meals of my life. I decided to share this meal with you in case you ever find yourself in a similar situation.

I realize this isn't the most attractive picture, but trust me, it was astounding.

Item #1: My Famous Quinoa
If you are not familiar with quinoa (pronounced keen-wa), you should be. It is one of the healthiest foods of all time, and is delicious. It is actually a seed, not a grain, and is a complete protein, rich in fiber, calcium, magnesium and iron. I just learned that on Wikipedia. I buy it at Costco in a beautiful green bag, near its inferior cousin, rice.

To prepare, combine the following ingredients in a medium saucepan:
* 2 cups water
* 1 cup rinsed quinoa (just throw it in a fine-meshed strainer and run some water over it)
* 1-2 tsp. chicken bouillon granules (you can also substitute a can of chicken broth for some of the water)
* Some chopped onion. I use frozen.
* 1 can of beans, rinsed. I usually use black beans, but today I used kidney beans and they were fabulous.

Bring to a boil. Reduce heat to a simmer and cover for 15 minutes or so. The liquid will be absorbed when it is done.

Item #2: Salmon Patty
If you are turned off by the term "salmon patty", I don't blame you. What is appealing about a fish patty? Well, obviously you have never tried the salmon burgers from Costco. Tsk, tsk. They are breath-taking. Every member of my family, from Jason down to Jake, can devour these in a matter of seconds. When I was eating my Perfect Meal, I had to defend my precious salmon patty from the legion of vultures, also known as my children, who suddenly appeared despite the fact that Jason had fixed each of them their own salmon patty merely an hour before.

To prepare the precious patty, just heat a non-stick skillet over medium-high heat. Throw on a frozen patty and sprinkle with dried dill and garlic salt. Flip over after a few minutes. You want each side nice and blackened, but not too blackened. You will know in your heart when it is done.


Item #3: Green Salad with BYU Ranch

Let me be clear: I am not a huge fan of Ranch dressing. I AM a huge fan of Ranch dressing from the BYU creamery. It is smooth and creamy and not bitter in the least. It is also light, clocking in at only 50 calories per two tablespoon serving, which is a large enough serving to swim in, which you might want to do, and all my kids love salad because of it. The next time you are in Provo, swing by ye ole Creamery and grab a few gallons. You will thank me, I promise. My salad this night consisted of a handful of greens from my trusty Costco, some sunflower seeds, feta cheese, and a few croutons because I can't be afraid of carbs on a day I run a marathon. Also some dried cranberries for color, but they still didn't improve the picture. But I don't care. It was perfect. I also used the Ranch as a dip for the salmon, and let's be honest, the quinoa.

Item #4: Dessert
By the time I had polished off my meal and licked the platter clean, I was feeling more like myself and was finally in the mood for a little something sweet, so of course I reached for... The Perfect Chocolate Chip Cookie. It is called the Perfect Chocolate Chip Cookie for a reason. Not gonna lie.

I had to make the decision of which to take first: a picture or a bite. Need I say more? I like how the cookie seems to be yawning, or perhaps singing. Probably to me, saying, "Good job on your marathon, Anne Marie! You deserve me and my five brothers whenever your little heart desires." Amen, brother, amen.