Snowpocalypse 2019

The biggest storm to hit Arizona in over fifty years--and what did we do?

We headed north, of course.

Brad tried to go on Thursday, but the roads closed before they could reach Payson. Hyrum and two of his buddies had been pulled out of school that afternoon, fully expecting two days of sledding and playing, but instead they returned home in less than an hour, all three looking dejected at the prospect of returning to school on Friday.

We thought about heading up Friday, but we held out till all the roads were clear on Saturday. 

I have never seen the snow levels this low, and most of the drive from the valley was blanketed in white.

 All the roads were plowed except the last 100 feet to our driveway, so we had to hike through two feet of snow to get to the cabin. It was incredible!

 Look at the view out our bedroom window!

 And this is from inside the garage. Can you see the dirt in the foreground? And Micah's head peeking over?

 Hot chocolate and oreos--great combination we discovered while there.

Our driveway makes an amazing sledding track, but the snow was so deep that Brad had to drag the kids on the sleds to tamp down the snow before they could speed down the hill.

 It was even too deep and too wet for snow angels!

 The girls dragging Brad . . .  not as easy as it looks!

 The pictures can tell the story.

 Look how deep it was!

 And the stream was rushing--

It was about 40 degrees when we got there, and the closer we got to the creek, the wetter the ground got.

Here at the bottom of the driveway, the snow was halfway up my thigh. Brad wanted me to stomp the snow down as much as I could, and I hit running water about two inches deep--which flooded into my boot and made me a little unhappy!

 What a glorious day--the snow, the temperature, and the kids.

Brad and I both vowed that the next time a storm like this is predicted, we're going up before it and getting snowed in.

I love this corner of the woods more than just about anywhere on earth, and I'm so grateful we get to enjoy it so often.

Ringing in the New Year, Denton Style

Happy New Year from the Denton Sanatorium!

We aren't that festive or exciting around here on New Year's Eve, but I did plan a few Minute-to-Win-It games. The kids liked them ok, but then Brad upped the ante when we finished playing a kid version of beer pong.

After an unsuccessful round on the table with $20 prize, Brad made it more challenging and more rewarding. He placed the Solo cup on the floor, gave each person one chance to stand on a chair and try to bounce the ping pong ball into the cup from 12 feet away.

Prize? Benjamin Franklin.

After four or five of us unsuccessfully attempted the new challenge, Tucker landed the ball in the cup and I wish this moment was on video! And immediately after him, Karli's brother Troy landed a second ball in the cup!

Brad was nervous at this point, thinking he would be bled dry by the end of the challenge, but thankfully for him, there were only two winners. I don't think Troy had ever held a $100 of his own. Not bad for five seconds of work!

On January 1, we headed north to the cabin. (Tucker's family plus her two youngest siblings, Ben and Makayla, and us with our three youngest. Lily, who lives in the land of ice and snow while she's in school, opted to stay home and clean the entire house for a small fee. I quickly agreed to that deal!) Snow in the AZ mountains is unpredictable, and when the forecast shows a snowflake, we desert rats quickly comb through the snow clothes and drive 90 minutes for a few hours of winter.

 The snow level was lower than I've ever seen it as we drove up--snow-capped saguaro cactus and the desert grasses bowing under the unfamiliar weight of heavy, wet snow.

 It was beautiful.

My boys inherited their teasing from their dad. While I was asleep, the family started a snow fort and tried to build a sled track down our driveway (not enough snow for that, unfortunately). Brad incessantly pelted everyone with snowballs or tackled  people to the ground to whitewash them.

Finally, the boys took it upon themselves for a little revenge. Brad didn't stand a chance against his three biggest boys (with Hyrum egging his brothers on from the sidelines).

 Micah landed the lucky shot . . .

 . . . which landed right in Brad's face. He may tease a lot, but he takes it when the kids dish it right back at him.

I love this picture. And I love this man and the family and life we've created together over the last almost thirty years.

Although the snow wasn't deep enough for a proper bobsled track like we've built in the past, the kids still had a great time sledding down the hill . . .

. . .  and making actual "snow" cones.

Summer is a great time to head north and escape the heat of the Valley, but winter and snow are my favorite times in the pines of central Arizona.

 Especially when surrounded by people I love.

The best part? After frozen pizza and quickly straightening up, we drove back to the Valley and were all in bed by 9 pm.

I may have said this before, but I love the cabin.

Trashin' the Camp*

*Eve and I had a Disney Radio marathon as we cleaned the cabin the night before this escapade. I had no idea how prophetic Phil Collins's song from Tarzan would be at the time. I should have known better.

I haven't really written a blog post in a long time--one that takes thought and planning and rewriting.

I don't know if I have it in me any more.

I hope so . . . 

. . . because I have a story to tell you.

_______________

I knew it was a mistake when I did it.

Eve and I finished our chores the night before--scrubbing bathrooms, sweeping and mopping, and packing our stuff. I knew I shouldn't leave a tightly closed black bag of garbage outside the cabin overnight. I was more concerned that I would forget it in the garage when we left before 6 am the next morning and that it would stink everything up before we got up north again. But I left it next to the lidded metal can as I turned out the light and locked the door before climbing the stairs to bed.

Four hours later, at precisely 3:18 am, my phone started pinging with Instagram notifications from one of Micah's friends who was leaving on vacation. I quietly cursed her name as I turned over to go back to sleep.

Sleep didn't come. The weather had gotten progressively hotter over the week, and even leaving the windows open all night hadn't dropped the temperature upstairs much below 80. I kicked at the comforter, hoping that removing the top layer of bedding would cool me off a little.

Nights with no moon are pitch dark at the cabin, and 3:18 am is not only dark but the air is still and thick and quiet. I stayed there in my bed, wishing sleep would come but still enjoying my last night in my cabin bed.

Then I heard it.

What was that sound?

It sounded like . . . glass clinking. Very faintly.

No. The sound was gone. I must have been hearing things.

Another sound.

Is that . . . paper tearing? 

And was that a . . . grunt?

That's when I put all the sounds together.

The only questions left to answer were 

• What critter was digging through my garbage?
• Should I just close the window and pretend I didn't know what was going on below?
• Would they just leave so I could sleep?

Five minutes later and still not asleep, I decided I needed to know what was messing in the trash. As I descended the stairs and got closer to the curtained French doors, I heard more of the feast going on just a few feet from me. It was more than one animal, I could tell, but it was so dark that I knew I would need to turn on the light. I peered through the curtain just as I flicked the switch.

Inches from me were the three teenage javelinas that live in a wash on our property with their parents, snorting and digging and tearing and eating everything inside the now shredded black bag. What surprised me most about the chaos in front of me was that turning on the light hadn't disturbed their party at all. Not one of them looked up, and for some reason, that made me mad. Didn't they know they should run when I lit up their antics? Didn't they know they were up to no good? It probably was teen dare night at the peccary compound and nothing was going to deter them from the prize. I didn't want to open the door (mostly not to dirty the windows Eve and I had spent that day cleaning), so I flicked the switch on and off four or five times before they all three squealed and disappeared outside the ring of light. 

I was so mad. 

My bad judgment would delay our departure early the next morning when I had to clean up the mess, and as I climbed the stairs, I calculated how much earlier I needed to get up to still get to Flagstaff in time to pick up Lily.

It was 3:42 am.

When I finally fell back asleep, I had fitful dreams that left me confused and exhausted when the alarm went off less than two hours later. I dressed and made my way downstairs as the sun crept over the rim. How bad was the mess out there?

Pretty bad. 

I unrolled a new black garbage bag and proceeded to fill it. 

One of the projects Eve and I completed that week was cleaning out the fridge and freezer. I had thrown away two refreezable cooler packs filled with water and silicon. The javelinas had chewed holes in the bags and soaked all of the garbage with the liquid inside, making the cleanup process even more unpleasant. Great. Soaking wet javelina detritus. Thanks.

Another addition to the mess from the freezer--melted ice cream. Little known fact: javelinas love to smear chocolate ice cream on rugs. 

Can you picture the carton stuck over one of their snouts and once they got it off rubbing their face all over the carpet? 

No longer frozen liquid and chocolate ice cream were not the grossest parts of the mess. The grossest part was picking up obviously chewed wads of paper towels that couldn't be swallowed so they were spit out and left as special squishy treasures for me to find. Back in the trash they went.

If you look at this picture below, you can see the teeth marks taken out of the styrofoam tray from our chicken.

And the packet of dressing in the bottom left corner had teeth marks in it, but they were unable to puncture it--so out it came.

As soon as the mess was returned to the bag, I tied it shut, moved it out by the driver's side of suburban, and began to load the rest of our stuff. I cleaned out the fridge and other food to bring home and tied it in a grocery bag, placing it behind the car with our suitcases. I woke up Eve, grabbed another load, and walked back out to the car. As I turned the corner, who met my gaze but the daddy javelina, sniffing around the back of groceries I'd just brought outside. 

By this point, I was pretty ticked. I didn't care it was 6 am or that I might wake some distant neighbors. I yelled "GET OUT OF HERE!!" as I waved my arms to chase him away. He retreated a few yards and turned to stare at me. I yelled again, but he was unbowed, adding insult to my injury. When I came back out with my last load of stuff, his wife had joined him, and she stood quietly looking at me as he sniffed and licked her.

Just down the hill I saw their three teenagers, up and ready to face the day less than three hours after their evening raid.

I felt like Jane and her dad in Tarzan when they walk in on the animals raiding the camp. What were these peccaries thinking? "Stupid human. Wonder if she will leave us any other snacks before she leaves." "How long till she turns her back again and we can make a break for the bag?" "Is she gonna tell Mom and Dad?" 

A few carrots and pieces of watermelon hadn't gotten tied into the bags, so I tossed them down the steep embankment next to the driveway and the five of them bolted and grunted over to their breakfast. I buckled in my youngest daughter, yelled down the hill at the javelinas, "Don't think I'll ever do that again!" and I drove out of the driveway holding the dripping black bag out of the window, thinking, I hope they have stomachaches all day. 

Never again.

Trash goes in a can with a lid for a reason.

At least it wasn't bear cubs, right?

Hiding from the World with my Baby

A week in the pines of central Arizona—just what I needed.

Summer has been busy so far, but Eve and I took advantage of the other kids having a fun week away from home for the two of us to hide at the cabin.

We left Hyrum in Utah at Brad’s mom’s house when we came back from Idaho on Sunday. He was excited to spend the week with cousins with a few dollars burning a hole in his pocket. I got pictures throughout the week, and it looks like he had a great time.

Micah had to be ready for scout camp by 5:10 am Monday morning. That made things a little crazy when we got home from two weeks’ vacation—packing for camp and trying to find everything he needed. Why do we always lose one of every pair of socks? I had to take a quick trip to Walmart at 4:30 am to fill the rest of his list, but he’s off earning merit badges, getting dirty, and losing sleep for a week. He has great scout leaders, and I’m sure it’s been fun.

Lily also had a busy Sunday night—laundry and packing for EFY in Flagstaff. She went without a roommate, hoping to make some new friends while she was gone. I haven’t heard much from her, but we pick her up tomorrow morning.

After dropping Lily off, Eve and I took a back route to Pine, and we’ve been holed up here. Brad came for the first two nights, but otherwise it’s just been the two of us, and the time has flown by.

We painted. We hiked. 

We played Steal the Pile, Go Fish, Life, and Sorry. 

We saw tons of deer, a few elk and squirrels (Eve's photo), one ornery javelina I surprised at dusk, and a flock of vultures that have been swooping from tree to tree every afternoon. I couldn’t figure out why the vultures were hanging around here until yesterday. That’s when I smelled the decaying flesh of something. Eve and I were playing cards on the porch when I asked her if she could smell that. She wrinkled her nose and spouted, “SOMEONE needs to take a bath, and it’s not me!” She quickly scooped up the cards to continue our game inside. The smell has gotten worse over the past two days, becoming so bad that I googled how long it takes a carcass to decompose (wonder if there will be a tracker on my google search after that one . . .).

I worked some, and as I worked, I listened to her talk to herself as she pretended or sang. At seven, the age of imagination is nearing its end, but I was happy she got a week alone without bigger people making fun of her imaginary games. She made endless how-to videos on how to build a fire (without a real spark). They are hilarious shots of trees and sky and her running back to adjust the angle to capture her explanations.

One thing I learned about my Evie this trip: She is a really good worker when it’s just the two of us.  We scrubbed cupboards and bathrooms. We dusted and swept and mopped. We organized books and towels and pillows and the game cupboard. We inventoried each room then took a trip to Payson to restock supplies. We cleaned the fridge, the freezer, the oven, the stove, and the microwave. 

And our last big project was today—that girl can wash windows. It took us over 90 minutes to wash the screens and the windows inside and out, and she never complained once. We laughed on either side of the glass as we sprayed each other, but neither of us laughed harder than when I accidentally sprayed myself in the butt with the hose. 

She did use an entire roll of paper towels and half a bottle of Windex, but those windows sparkle. It was a joy to work together all morning—and earn a trip for an ice cream cone this afternoon.

My favorite memories from this trip:

• Snuggled up on the couch combing each other’s wet, clean hair as we watched “The Neverending Story”
• Eve sneaking up on a small group of deer and the joy on her face as she got closer and closer before they bounded off into the forest
• Her scream when a spider was in her bathwater and my scream when a squirrel was under the table where I was working

• Naps on the living room couches. She's getting too long to fit.
• Eve practicing an entire day to learn how to do “the bridge” when she shuffles
• Disney Radio for hours and hours and spontaneous dance parties to our favorite songs
• Sleeping late together when Eve snuck into my bed around 6:30 every morning

Alone time is hard to find in a big family, and it’s even harder when you’re the baby. Love you, Evie. I can’t wait to come back.

New Year, New Snow

We watched the forecast pretty closely during Christmas break to see if there would be snowfall at the cabin we could enjoy. Our best bet was New Year's Day, so after church we packed all the snow gear, a little food, and the kids, and we headed north to Pine. When we got there, only patches of snow lay hidden in the forest--the rest was muddy and brown.

We didn't give up hope, because snow was forecast to fall all night long. We went to bed with a few flakes falling, fingers crossed that it would cool off enough to blanket the ground.

As it turned out, Pine was about 100 feet below the snow line in this storm. The kids woke up to a few more slushy patches, but no real snow. After breakfast, we piled in the Suburban and headed up on the rim in search of the white stuff. We didn't have to drive far.

Four new inches of snow covered the ground and flakes fell all around us. The kids were excited. I think Eve's only enjoyed snow once or twice in her life, so this was a real treat for her.

Not many things are more thrilling to Valley of the Sun kids than snow. We never see it, so it's really a treat.

I know most of you are moaning at this right now, since your own weather has been so snowy. Sorry.

We left the cabin without bringing the sleds (or Ben's gloves). Duh. But we had fun anyway.

Hyrum is still learning how to participate in the fun without getting his feelings hurt when someone gets him back, but Micah was unfazed every time he was whitewashed or dunked in a bank.

Brad is usually the king of the mountain in these matches, but I know it's because Ben pulls back before it goes too far.

Micah shot this panorama with my camera just before we left. I know most of the world thinks of saguaro when they picture AZ, but we do have places like this.

And I'm so glad we get to visit them. For an hour. When it's 35 degrees. And quickly drive back to the cabin to warm up. Then go home to 65 degrees.

I've become such a baby about the cold!