Rocky Mountain National Rendezvous

The Rocky Mountain National Rendezvous (RMNR) is an annual celebration of life on the pre-1840 American Western frontier. It is part re-enactment and part living history, based on the fur-trade rendezvous held in the Rocky Mountains.

There were many who brought various instruments to play throughout the day to the people passing by to the trade market. Everyone in their own world, in their own time. It was lovely to hear all the instruments I do not hear on a normal basis. There was a wonderful jammin' band later that evening where people gathered around a fire to sing and dance. It was brilliant.



Many people passed the time by making beautiful bead necklaces and showing off their beautiful, tedious work to others around the camp.




Everyone dressed in a variety of pre 1940's apparel... this is just a highlight of what we saw. Everyone was extremely friendly and loved having their picture taken, for the most part. Everyone had a story to tell.










One moment of sweet goodness was meeting the "Pickle Lady." She brings manna from heaven in small jars filled with pickles. Her bread and butter pickles are such sweet nectar, an ambrosia you will want for all your sandwiches. When we finally came to the last pickle from last year's pickle jar we poured the pickle juice into small bowls to dip our sandwiches in such a delicacy. We knew we would have to make a visit to the "Pickle Lady."



These fabulous pickles from the pickle-angel-lady were opened immediatly upon our return to our camp and everyone had sandwiches made with such great love.



After partaking of such deliciousness, we sat back satisfied for a moment.




During our brief moment of relaxation a friend from the neighboring camp brought us a baby ducklet to take care of and supposedly take home. I immediately named and feel in love with our little friend. We called him Darkwing Duck = male and Abigale = female. We went with the traditional duck names, it felt naturual right away. Everyone loved our little duckling.






However, I must report, the little guy did not make it through the night without his mother, but he was loved by all during his last day of life. I just know he is in a better place, a ducky-duck heaven I am sure.

There was an opening ceremony one evening around 7:00 p.m. where announcements were made about the "how to" and "where to" around camp. There were going to be some interesting activities; including, shooting, tomahawk throwing, bead workshops, plays, music, pot lucks, trading, horse camp, etc. etc.



While attending the meeting I got to hold a precious puppy.



in which the puppy belonged to this guy:



As the meeting was taking place and I was not distracted long by the puppy (pictured above). I took some photos of people around us and it was a beautiful evening.




After the opening ceremonies we headed back to our site for a delicious dutch oven dinner and once again we took photographs around our site. The gangs all here and so fresh.



Basically what it comes down to... you need:


One loin cloth.



a case of the moccasins.



and one tin mug: "here's looking at you kid."
This expression actually comes from the glass bottom of the mug.

Rendezvous was a treat and I wish we could have stayed longer, and participated in the activities, but what we did get to experience, is something to remember. I would love to go again next year, and for many years after that.

what i t.h.i.n.k. i know right now

• I am an open book.
• Everyone is less mysterious than they think they are.
• I can listen to one song over and over, again and again.
  
• A.D.D. is over diagnosed in most children.
• if you have something great, you shouldn't let it go.- errich
  
• I have a holga camera in my room waiting for me to shoot it.
• One photograph I love of my family you cannot tell who is who.
• I worry all the freakin time.
• I say way to much.
• If you are going to make a mistake, make it the best mistake.
  
• You can speak your mind, when you can control what you think.
  
• I know you have to go after inspiration with a club.
• I do not answer my phone if I do not feel like being fake.
• I actually rarely answer my phone.
• Serving others creates chords of love which cannot be broken.
• I do not want to sit some place with unpleasant lightening.
• I have two yellow candle stick holders, without candles.
  
• I should take the summers off from school.
• I am tired of most of my music... please give me suggestions.
• I never liked polka dots, now I do.
• I forget most of the good things I do.
• I finally bought a purple shirt.
• I think I am frustrated right now.
• I want to go to bed and dream.
• I want my paper to write its self.
• It feels good to fall asleep to music... uzi and ari.
  
• I cut my hair and have never loved it more.
• If you don't have something nice to say, don't talk.
• I cannot be in two places at once.
• I should go shopping.
• I should read more.
• I should live more.
• I should experience more.
• I should be able to control myself.
• I should be more responsible.
• I should be less responsible.
• I should go to bed.
• I should stay up all night doing my homework.
• I should cry more.
• I should smile more.
• I should write more because it feels so good to write.
  
• I should scream at the top of my lungs whenever I feel like it.
• I should not want to scream anymore.
• I should feel free.
• I should feel.
• I should not feel so much.
• I want to sleep with a smile.
• I want to make them happy.
• I should attend the Temple more.
  
• I want to sleep.
• I want to sleep.
• I want to sleep.
• I want to sleep.
• I want to meet Erich Stussi.
• I want to photograph this world.
• I want to not have to take photographs anymore.
• I want to just enjoy this time.
• I want to lay off more.
• I want to put him first like he does for me.
• I want to not have to worry anymore.
• I want to just play again.
• I should learn to ride a bike again.
• I wish setting goals motivated me.
• I hope, I hope.
• I wish I would not have lost it.
• I wish I could take both feet off the ground.
• I wish to do something worth while.
  
• I wish I sang in the shower again.
• I wish I sang.
• I should eat more meat.
• I should want to learn more.
• I want to help.
• I want to drum a drum.
• I want to do something completely different.
• I want to keep him though.
• I want to dance.
• I want to dance.
• I want to dance.
• I want to dance all the dances.
• this is all.

this one boy and this one girl

he and i

i watch
i fly
i scream
i fall down
he helps me up
he takes me hand
he lifts me higher
he turns me right side up
i turn him upside down
i brush his forehead
i whisper in his ear
he smiles a smirk
he turns his head to the right
he waits
i kiss him on the cheek
i tell him hello
he closes his eyes
he listens
i open his eyes
he sees
we turn right side up
we fly away

longboarding competition-burg style

Another day in Rexburg, Idaho. The day after the 4th of July, filled with parades, swimming, and firework watching, we participated in a longboarding competition. The competition was not ready for girls to compete, but it still went well for the first one.

Freestyle:
1st- Andelin Kohler (wife)
2nd- Jordan Huntington
3rd McKenzie Shelley

Best Trick:
1st- McKenzie Shelley
2nd- Andelin Kohler
3rd- Jordan Huntington

Andelin, Mckenzie, and I have been boarding with one another for years now, so it was mostly just doing what we do only infront of a bunch of people. There are more competitions coming up and we have discussed competing again. We shall see I suppose, but here is a little looksie.

balloon day with mom

One man wrote his loves and losses and released it to the sea,
Another placed his hopes and dreams inside a red balloon.

Spooning Etiquette

Spooning- lay on ground- assume a semi fetal position - next person mimic same position as the frist person- move close together. love.

Rules of Spooning

1. Group Spooning is always better because spooning can lead to sporking.

2. Order does not matter- boy-girl. boy-boy- girl-girl. spooning is about sharing the love and we must be comfortable to love on all.

3. It is important to put your arm around the person ahead of you.

4. It is okay to touch the person ahead of them. Back tickles are prime action in this lovely game of spoon town.

5. Remember to Rotate: this can be done by a random group memeber yelling "rotate." The entire group will immiediatly switch sides.

6. The ends of the spooning group should be occasionally cycled in unless they are okay with the outside. It can be personal perference.

7. During times of cold and striff- it is easier to put the little ones in the middle for more warmth.

8. This is no longer strictly for survival, it brings the masses together and there is not better way to bond with those around you.

9. Group Spooning often begins to pair off- to avoid this- please continually switch the order upon occasion. Some people will find there nitch and rather enjoy the sweet embrace of certain people, this is also just how the game is played.

10. You must allow all to play. We do not shun outsiders or people who think we are crazy. Always be open to others.

11. Remember who you are and know what happens during spoon time can just remain in spoon time. Unless your "group" is comfortable enough to speak of spooning sessions. .

Spooning is a beautiful thing, but it is important to remember spoon code and pointers for ultimate spooning. please let me know if you have any questions, comments, or concerns.

the end. spoon on. jo.

the day i became my room

I am not sure who started the rumor; however, the new heater never seemed at home in my room. I often think it was his murmerings that set the events in motion when it happened last thursday. There was an uprising and I was ceased upon. My heart jumped right out of my chest only to be caught by my hanging chandelier. The nerve of it, refusing to give it back. I thought to myself, "have i lost my mind?" Not much longer after I had asked this question, i looked up to see my own brain craddled in the curtains. I needed to blink but I soon realized my head was cushioned between the decor of pillows on my bed. My eyes had failed to notice this due to its rigorous search for my brain. My hand was fidgeting with something and I suddenly realized it was my cold, metal doorknob. Through the chaos I still had yet to find my legs, they were nowhere to be found; although, my hope chest was bumbling around an awful lot. I am not sure what caused the uproar but I do know my door will open and close when it wants to and my curtains will be a tad more sarcastic.

Silent Plea

note: this is a true story and was very difficult to write. I know in my heart of hearts it needed to be said in more ways than one. please do not start this story if you do not have the time to read it. it means a lot to me.



Silent Plea



There was uneasiness in my stomach; the kind of feeling you get when you know something bad has happened. I considered saying something, but it was not the right time. I pushed it to the far corners of my thoughts, and sleep overcame my mind.

I awoke; my body could always seem to tell when home was near. One dip, then another, two bumps meant we were truly home, but oddly we were not pulling into the garage. An unfamiliar dodge had pulled up beside us, and my cousin Kelly was already getting out of her car as my mother did the same. This was it, I could see it on her face and a million things flooded my head. My sister had already exited the passenger door and I struggled to reach the lever ahead of me, I tried so hard to get out, to hear what was being said. My mother stood for a short while until she seemed to regain consciousness and realized I could not get out; she released the seat and gently guided me through the door. I was trying to ask what happened, but stumbled over the words. She closed her eyes for a moment, and said, "Your uncle has taken his life." I believe in this moment she realized what she had just heard and found herself having to tell me. I stood there, trying to find something to say, something to console my mother and my sister, but nothing came. Moments later, we found ourselves frozen around our island bar, a common place for happy chatter; it had never experienced such silence.

You see, he suffered from migraines, migraines lasting for days on end, and during the brief breaks, he was haunted by dull headaches. There were times he would bang his head against the wall to feel a different pain. He received treatment, and medication, and gradually he became dependent on his medication. The night it happened, he was supposed to be on his way up to Salt Lake seeking help for his addiction. He had carefully tucked a note away for someone to see, "I am not worth anything." In his frustration, he picked up the keys to his new black pick up truck and closed the door behind him. He listened to Credence Clearwater Revival as the town with all his memories disappeared behind him. He took a familiar right turn onto a dirt road, a road taken many times, every Easter Sunday to roll eggs down the sand dunes. He made one last phone call to the local mine rescue team, a team he was apart of himself, "There has been a shooting." The receiving end inquired who it was and he replied, "You will find out when you get here."

Somehow, we made it to my grandmother's, only to find her silently rocking in her chair as usual. She starred blankly, not even realizing we had entered the house. My sister and I found a place on the couch and mom embraced grandma. My grandfather had not yet returned from the ranch, he still needed to be told. I could hear his diesel truck blare down the street, the sound ensuring grandpa was coming, and this typically meant it was time to run outside for a big hug, but not this time. The engine roar echoed in the garage and shut off. I heard the door slam and his tired footsteps climb the stairs. Holding my breath, the door handle slowly turned; the door creaked open and grandpa entered. He finally saw us sitting with vacant expressions, and I wondered how grandma was going to tell him. She lifted her head, and said bluntly, "He committed suicide." The directness shocked us all, and it was so hard to hear again aloud, it is still hard to say today. Maybe she said it so quickly so she did not have to explain, or leave any room for question. It is not something you can beautifully phrase because in the end, it is what it is.

I watched as my grandfather's countenance melted; all color seemed to leave, though no motion was made. He remained there, hunched over in his flannel shirt, green coat, and dirty jeans. His arms were stiff at his sides; yet, his hands appeared lifeless. I have never forgotten his eyes, normally a vibrant blue and so full of life, now cold and empty, something had changed inside him and I felt it change within me as well. A layer of tears reflected in the dim light; his eyes closed quickly hiding his emotion, he needed to be strong for grandma.

This changed my life as I knew it, in three words, in one second, it was all different. Life became real, it was no longer bubbles and butterfly kisses. This was a trial, a real trial, and for some reason I had to watch my family experience it. So many prayers brushed my lips as I watched my family suffer. This is not a memory you want to relive; eight years have passed, and our family still hurts, still feels a void, and still is given trials in relation to this event. I guess this is a silent plea for all who feel as he did; to all the people who feel like they can no longer take it, or feel they are not worth anything. This is for those who think it is a way out, or think they will get back at someone. This is for those who think no one cares. I have been touched by suicide in my life and I assure you, there is ALWAYS someone who cares, always someone who is thinking of you, always someone who will cry for years after you leave. We all have self worth and a Heavenly Father who cares for us dearly. I watched my family unite at such a tragedy, and eventually tare apart as people blamed each other and eventually themselves. I had hoped it would be easier, but the hurt never stops and perhaps it is not supposed to because then we would forget. This is not something to just forget and hope nobody else will feel the way he did again. It was a selfish act, no one seems to think about those they leave behind and all the lives they change. My words are what I remember, even after all this time. I hope my words show you the difference, and help you realize the people left behind do love you and there are brighter tomorrows. Do not let this happen to people you love or do this to people you love, because someone ALWAYS LOVES YOU.