Man of My Dreams

Ben & I: 2002 Winter Olympics-Opening Ceremonies

I figure skated in the ceremonies,

Ben was a Zamboni-driver for the Olympic Committee.

To watch my group skate in the Olympic Ceremonies, click HERE.

I'm one of the silver skaters chasing the red Child of Light around in the beginning ( NOT in the white frisbee disks, and NOT the in the "hairy-trolls-on-stilts" group).

I just KNOW you'll enjoy it (especially the cool 80's electric guitar music that begins when the Fire Within shows up).

Jam-on!

* * * * *

You may think I'm crazy, but I'm about to tell a true tale.

I used to make fun of stories like this too....

...until it happened to ME!

* * * * *

I wish you could have known me in High School....

...and some of you did...

I was the quiet, shy, studious, awkward teenager. One time I was even referred to as an "Ugly Duckling" by someone at church. (Note: I wasn't asked out on my first date until after I turned 18.) It's true. A little embarrassing, but true. As a result, I was convinced that there was something wierd and unattractive about me (because, you know, that makes the most sense when you're a shy and awkward 14-year-old).

And then,

One night I had a dream.

During my dreamy slumber, I found myself at the ice rink (a place where I usually spent MOST of my time anyway). I was at the entrance to a beautiful sheet of perfect glass, but standing just off the ice and to the side. As I stood there, I looked to my right and found myself in the middle of a conversation with a guy. "What a cutie!" I thought, as my heart went pitter-patter. He looked out over the ice as he told me about his family and riding horses. I can remember the details to this very day. Most importantly, I can remember how he made me feel. He talked about working on a Ranch as we chatted through the night.

I woke up suddenly to Saturday morning.

It took a few minutes for the butterflies to leave my stomach after I opened my eyes. All I wanted to do was to go back to sleep and spend just 5 more minutes with this guy.

Instead, my 16 year-old mind soon brushed it off as just a silly dream. "Maybe it was a reflection of my love for the ice and figure skating," I concluded.

This attitude toward the dream was apparent as I dated in college. I never looked for that horse-riding guy from my dream. Instead, I found myself trying to go out with everyone ELSE. Oh, how I loved the quiet Computer Genius, the guitar-playing Poet, the analytical Business Major, the Portuguese Immigrant and the totally-cool Ski Bum.

There was one problem, though: They didn't love me back.

* * * * *

I was 23 when I started coaching for the Peaks Ice Arena in Provo, Utah. I had another job that paid the bills, I just worked for the rink in order to get free ice time. As a single girl, I moved to Utah because the Winter Olympics were scheduled to happen there in a couple of years. As a result, they were building some beautiful rinks. I decided that between my ability to speak French and to figure skate, there just HAD to be a way to get into the action.

One morning, I was asked to be an Ice Guard for a group of school kids who were coming to the rink during an Honor Roll field trip. I basically had to wear a bright orange jacket, carry a walkie-talkie, and make sure the kids weren't throwing snowballs at each other. If someone fell and hit their head, my job was to call the in-house EMT on my trusty walkie-talkie. It was a little different than the coaching sessions I was used to, but I thought it would be fun.

I decided to get there early and skate on an empty sheet for an extra (FREE) hour before the kids started to get there. Oh, what a beautiful morning! The rink was empty and silent (except for the musical sounds coming from my blades scratching the ice). There was a haze of fog resting on the surface as the lights reflected like a mirror.

Heavenly!

And then, after finishing a spin I noticed a dark sillouette I didn't recognize, watching me from next to the Skate Rental. There weren't may lights on out there, but I watched him watching me for about a half-hour until the bus pulled up and the kids started to pour in.

He ended up being the on-call EMT for the morning. I found out later that he was usually there at night, taking care of the bloodied-up hockey players. We had both worked there for FOUR months without ever crossing paths. For a while, I referred to him as "EMT guy" because I couldn't remember his name. (You would think that BEN would be a hard name to forget, but...whatever.)

Later in the session, I stood at the entrance to the sheet to check laces as kids came on and off the ice. (You'd be shocked by how many people try to get on the ice without lacing their skates!) With nothing else to do (and looking for a way to start a conversation), the "EMT guy" came over to help. We worked there, side-by-side, with our heads down most of the time lacing skate after skate after skate. We started to chat.

We took a break for a minute and stood up to talk. I asked him where he was from. "Alaska," he responded. He then started to tell me about his life and family "up North" as we looked out over the sheet filled with little skaters. He started to talk about being raised around horses, training them with his mom, and working on Ranches.

My heart started to pound as my head quickly turned to the right. I stared at him as he kept talking. My face dropped, my palms got sweaty and my stomach felt like it was in my throat.

I swallowed hard as I relived the dream I had been carrying around in the back of my memory for SO many years. Only this time, I actually gave him my phone number.

* * *

Quite a few people have emailed me and asked me to write more about our history (how we met, more about Ben's stroke, what brought us to farm life). WOW, that's a long story! I DO want to take the time and write it down since these writings WILL end up in a Blurb book for our kids and family to enjoy. It's going to take some time, though. I'll just start there and keep adding to it. Tune-in again if you're interested.

We went to a parade a couple of weeks ago and I never blogged about it. I saw this picture and thought I would post it because it's patriotic and it was Veteran's Day yesterday. I know, I know...I'm running just a teensie-bit behind lately.

But while I'm at it, let me add a few more pictures and highlights from our day at the parade. After all, this WAS the first time we went to a parade in a small farming town:




Every parade HAS to let people show off their classic cars (I love Shelby Cobras).

But in a farming town, the parade ALSO has a designated section for classic TRACTORS.

These ones are called "Johnny Poppers" because they are really old John Deere tractors that sound like Jiffy-pop popcorn when they idle. (Pop....pop pop POP!)

Of course, the National Cowboy Club made an appearance.

The local politicians were out! This guy was running for County Supervisor. He stayed behind the animals and shoveled all the horse poop while his wife drove the quad.

Cle-ver!

(I voted for him because let's face it: how can you NOT be a good County Supervisor with THAT kind of creativity?)

...AND how can you not have a parade (in "these parts") without a cowboy Ronald McDonald riding a miniature train?

Hayden at the Historic Railroad Park in Willcox.

Hayden has always been fascinated with trains.

Actually, a little obsessed.

Before he could form sentances, he was pointing out the differences between steam engines, diesel engines and freight cars.

"Oh look!" I proclaimed to Hayden one day as we were stopped at a railroad crossing. "Look at the freight cars!"

"No mom," responded the (then) three year-old, "THOSE are passenger cars."

("Duuuh!" He seemed to say.)

I took a closer look.

He was right.

Could this be genetic?

My dad developed an obsession for trains too: Ever since he grew up near the railroad tracks in Missouri (during the 30's) with a father who worked for the Union Pacific.

The two of THEM (my dad and Hayden) get together regularly and compare their passions for trains. They lay on the floor, build tracks and play for hours.

However, those trains seem a little loud and scary in real-life, don't they?

(see below)

" I see a train coming!"

"Uh, Oh!"

"It's LOUUUUUD!"

"I call it....'Cascading Legos'"

Be Impressed....be VERY impressed!

I am, anyway...with myself.

While going through an old memory card, I came across these pictures and realized that I had forgotten to publish a post about this birthday cake I made for Hayden in July!

For the love!

Isn't this just the PERFECT birthday cake for a little boy?

It would be a shame NOT to tell the world!

It's pretty easy, but takes time and patience.

...and let me emphasize that again before you tackle this project yourself:

1.) Give yourself a lot of time

2.) Give yourself permission to walk away from it once in a while

3.)Remember to breathe.

(I actually started concentrating so hard that I stopped breathing.)

It was worth it, though!

SO! If you would like to make this cake, here are some pointers...

*I baked the cake mix in bread pans. I THINK I used two mixes for all the pieces...maybe. (???) I used Pillsbury Funfetti (confetti) cake mix.

*After baking, allow to cool completely. I shaved off the sides (with a bread knife) to make the legos more square.

*Wrap the pieces in foil and freeze for at LEAST a few hours.

*The round nubby pieces are JUMBO MARSHMALLOWS, cut in half. (I also trimmed the edges with kitchen shears so they had a little bit of space between.)

*I skewered the marshmallows onto toothpicks and frosted them. Then, attached them to the lego squares after they were taken from the freezer and frosted. (Freezing the cake makes it easier to frost and less crumbly. Make sure the frosting is at room temperature, though.)

*Keep the finished cake in the fridge until you're ready to bring it out.

Voila!

And there you go!