Happy Holidays 2019 -- Brown Family Style

It's that time again when we update you on our quiet lives in Gilbert, Arizona.

Daisy:  She's our golden retriever.  This year she worked really hard at digging holes in our yard.  We heard that means she doesn't get enough exercise, which is weird because she has almost entire acre to explore anytime she wants.  But she just wants to sit inside.  So, lately we've been taking her on more walks and runs.  The holes are disappearing and she's enjoying some pretty cool AZ sunrises.

Ernie:  Our Elf is named Ernie.  He's had a rough year as the picture below attests.  Seems like the other toys are jealous.  I'm sure he'll be glad to return to the North Pole really soon.  

Wedding:  We don't have a child named "Wedding" but it pretty much felt like that's been Scottie's name for the last few months.  In August Scottie told us "I'm in love, I'm in love, and I don't care who knows it..." -- and that he was getting married to Sage Wheeler.  The engagement became official in September.  That's the last time Jill and I have a clear memory of anything else in our lives.  The weeks and months since then is all fuzzy.  The all culminated Dec. 19th at the Gilbert Temple.  It was a perfect day.  The reception that evening at her parents' home in Mesa was practically perfect in every way.  He's one lucky kid.  

Sage:  She's the one in the white dress.  We are super happy to have her in our family.  I'll let everyone know later if she appreciates my brand of humor.  All I'm going to say for now is she's perfect for Scottie and life could not be any better for them.

Vilde:  You may not recognize the other girl in the family wedding picture.  No, we didn't have two weddings this year.  Her name is Vilde Dolvik and she's our foreign exchange student from Norway.  She's been a blast to have in our family and can't believe the year is almost half over.  We are seriously considering adopting her.  She seems willing -- she hates the cold and loves the heat.  She always has a blanket wrapped around her no matter the temperature.

Josh aka Elder Brown:  He's still missing.  We think he's in Paris, but have no way of knowing for sure.  We get letters and pictures and phone calls once a week.  He recently told us he doesn't care about being a billionaire anymore.  I knew he'd change a lot on his mission, but not that much.  In seriousness, he's working hard and having the time of his life.

Sam:  He informed us recently that he has probably the best looking eyes of anyone he knows.  We've got pictures if anyone knows of an eye-model talent scout we can contact.  He also enjoys harassing our neighbor who has a sand volleyball court with daily requests to go to his house and play "sand".  I think the neighbor has finally blocked him on his phone.

Anna:  She's our "never complains" and "What can I do to help?" child.  I'm sure you all have one in your family.  If you don't, that's too bad.  The one thing she doesn't do is smile for cameras, but once in a while I catch her unawares.

Zach:   He likes spending time at home, eating dinner with his family, doing errands for his mom, doing chores for his dad, cleaning his room and the hundred other places he leaves piles of clothing, and bonding with his siblings.  He's also been our child of many faces this year.

 

Lily:  She moved into a box recently.  And I can tell you it was a great box and she was really happy.  I finally made her take it to the recycle garbage can and it was weeping and wailing nonstop.  She's very concerned for Ernie, caretaker of Daisy, and pretty much a shoe-in for the next USA Olympic Gymnastics Team.

Jill:  She almost moved to the Ptolemaic Kingdom of Egypt with her twin sister.  She also managed to pull off her first wedding -- at one time she had 307 things on her "to do" list, many of which were delegated to a helpful and happy Zach.  She puts up with a lot of teenage drama and seems to love it.  Even though she's always busy, she always seems to know when to slow it down and enjoy the important moments.

Scott:  He's been asked to be Jeff Flake's running mate when he announces his presidential candidacy in early 2020.  His conservative Republican family members couldn't be happier.

 Love,

The Next Vice President of the United States & Family.

Happy Holidays 2018

Here's our holiday update:

Daisy:  May be pregnant. If so, she’s due Christmas Day.  So far we haven’t visited the vet to confirm – we prefer to be surprised.

Lily:  Her greatest dream is doing a million cartwheels in a row.  Her worst dream is walking into a dark hallway or room alone. 

Sam:  Got a “flip” phone for his 13th birthday.  It’s lost now.  It’s amazing how quickly our kids have lost their flip phones over the years – I guess they've never been cool.  But since it plays into our "your'e not responsible enough to have a 'smart' phone" argument, I don't mind.

Zach:  California Dreamin’.  The grass is greener on the other side.  Can he get a ride with anyone?

Anna:  Sister of the Year recipient – gets her sister up; does her sister’s hair; helps her sister with breakfast; guards her sister in dark hallways and rooms.

Josh:  Last seen in Utah.  May be in France.  Missing for three months.  (Spent money he needed for a winter coat on a "Christmas" suit.)

Scottie:  Last seen in Utah.  May still be in Utah.  Missing for three months.

Jill:  Love/hate relationship with quiet house (kids at school) and chaotic house (any other time).  Favorite pretend movie of the year:  anything Hallmark.  Favorite actual movie of the year:  Instant Family.

Scott:  Still working on New Year’s resolutions set 20 years ago: (1) Regain that size 34 waist (by "regain" I actually don't actually mean "gain" weight); (2) Don't live sports' dreams thru kids; and (3) Less sarcasm.

We love you all!

the Browns

Brown Family Update -- Fun Family Summer Trip -- Green River!

It's never too early to start planning your summer vacation for, well, this summer.

In this, my first ever "summer trip tip," I have a good tip based on a family tradition — and it is almost in your backyard if you are reading this in Utah.

Every other year Grandpa Brown takes his grandchildren on a river-rafting trip down the Green River. There are only two conditions: the grandchild has to be at least six years old and he or she has to have at least one parent in attendance on the trip.

When my oldest child was finally “Green River” eligible, we were excited. On that day, five adults and eight children piled into two rafts.

The raft trip starts at the bottom of the dam at Flaming Gorge and lasts about seven miles or approximately 2-3 hours. We went down twice that day. You'll need lots of snacks and plenty of water (I’ll have more about that later), sunscreen and a couple of shuttle drivers who don't like to raft. (You can tell from my short list that I'm a guy.)

During my son, Scottie's, first time floating a real river in a real raft, and not knowing how cold water coming out of the bottom of a dam feels, he was the first one to jump out of a raft. It was a few minutes before 9 a.m. As soon as his body struck the water, he bounced right back into the raft, and his bravery was duly noted by his cousins.

There are several historical sites along the seven-mile trip. There are no signs, and not even the fishing guides know about them, so I will have to tell you myself.

Sandy beach: The first is a sandy beach the grandchildren call "our secret place." Nobody else who has ever been down the river has seen the beach or stopped there. I can't tell you anything more about it lest you discover its whereabouts.

Little spring: The second is a little spring that comes out of the rocks just above the river — about two miles into the trip. That's where we used to stop and get a drink when I was a child. If you have taken a drink out of a mountain spring lately, you'll know why we don't stop there to quench our thirst anymore, but that does not stop Grandpa Brown from pointing it out every time we float past it.

Bad rock: (This is the paragraph you don't want your wife to read if you are really considering this trip.) The third is the rock my mom's raft hit many years ago. It's about four-and-half miles into the trip — ironically located in the mother-in-law rapids.

She was sitting in the back of the raft and she was holding 3-year-old me on her lap. The impact of the raft hitting the rock threw her out of the back of the raft. As she was falling she pushed me back into the raft. Fortunately, she was able to hold onto her life jacket and endure the freezing cold rapids for about 100 yards before being pulled to shore by the Three Nephites, who luckily had a fire going. (Note: the Three Nephites and fires are no longer allowed along the river.)

Now her grandchildren just stare at the rock in silence as they float by it. My mom, incidentally, has not been in a raft since that day and is a great shuttle driver if you need a volunteer.

Brown trout: The fourth is where my friend, Troy, caught a 22-inch brown trout many years ago. In his version of the story, the brown trout has grown to 25 inches or so. He hooked it just as we were going into some rapids about five miles into the trip.

Although the rest of us where paddling furiously around fearsome boulders, he never put his pole down once. The brown trout had met its match and did not live to tell about it.

Bad knees: The sixth is the rapids where my dad’s knees were ruined. These rapids are near the end of the run where the river widens and shallows out. The incident happened back in the day when he still floated the Green in his old yellow raft that needed to be blown up every time we stopped to fish off the bank. (We rent now.)

He was on his knees in the front of the raft as he navigated the shallow rapids. He did not see some rocks in front of him and POW! His knees slammed right into them. It was so painful that he may have let out a swear word or two.

Over the next several years he wore big, white knees pads and that sort of helped him deal with the pain of his knees hitting the rocks, but the knee pads never helped him see the approaching rocks any better. Nowadays he just sits in the back of the raft and plays with his grandchildren while his children do all of the work.

Newest marker: The newest historical marker, of course, is where Scottie jumped out of the raft just before 9 a.m. I am sure members of the Brown Family will be talking about it for generations to come. It's about 200 yards below the launch area.

After the first trip down, Scottie said that was the "awesomest" thing he had ever done. After the second trip down, he said, "That was boring."

So, my last Green River vacation tip — if you take children, make it short. 

Brown Family Update -- A Hero's Welcome (aka My Parents are Home from Turkey!)

Sometimes words can’t describe how you feel about someone else.  Two years ago my parents put retirement aside and applied to serve a mission for the LDS Church.  You can do that when you are an older, retired couple.  (Missions aren’t just for the young men and women.)  They were initially asked to go to California for 18 months.  I was excited to know they would be living closer to me and I would have a place to stay when I visited California.  But two months before they were to leave on their mission, they were asked to accept a different assignment:  Turkey for 21 months.

My parents have lived in the Middle East before as part of my dad’s work, so the request didn’t come as a complete surprise to them.  And we even spent a 2 week vacation in Turkey as a family when I was fourteen years old.  It was by far the worst family vacation ever in terms of everyone getting sick and being irritable.

Turkey is very different from other places where they lived in the Middle East – the culture was more western, the language completely different than what they’d tried to learn before, and they were sent to a city with no familiar faces.  In fact, there was basically no presence for our church in that city.  At first, it was basically my parents and, well, no one.

No one to translate for them.  No one to help them figure out how to get around the city and read the metro routes (they didn’t have a car).  No one to tell them where to shop or what to buy.  No one to tell them how to get the church up and running in the city.  No one to talk to or ask questions.  And the heat and humidity didn’t suit them well.  It was summer in Turkey and their apartment wasn’t furnished with the nice a/c units we are accustomed to here in the U.S.

It was basically a black hole for the first few months.  They started venturing out a little.  Trying out a few shops and restaurants.  Trying out a few words in Turkish.  Contacting a person or two on their church records.  Getting on a bus and taking it to the end of the line – just to see where it went.  Finding an IKEA.  Finding a place to hold church.  Meeting one person and then another.

This from my dad about their first Sunday in Izmir:  Our Sacrament Meeting this morning consisted of three persons: your mother, an investigator, and myself.

This from my mother about her first two weeks in Izmir:

We left Utah 2 weeks ago.  It sounds like a lifetime ago.  I'll never complain about life again.  We have 510 more days [this is before they decided to extend from 18 months to 21 months].  Who's counting?  

Our major activities seem to center on setting up our living quarters, foraging for food, walking hundreds of miles each day, brushing off sweat rivlets from our skin, figuring out public transportation, and changing money.  

I have prepared 2 home-cooked meals so far.  1.  Mac and cheese. 2.  Zucchini and rice.  We usually eat out at sidewalk cafes for dinner.  That is where most of humanity seems to settle in the evenings. 

We study Turkish but Dad is more adept and disciplined than I.  He keeps in contact with the "Association" here and is on a first-name basis with the plumber and a few merchants.  

Today we set out to explore our city.  We are just a couple of blocks from the Sea. We've walked along it most days.  We took a taxi to a City Tour On-Off location.  We were told that the bus might not be running today because no cruise ships were in port.  But we sat down on a bench and waited anyway. And eventually a big bus came along.  We were the only passengers.  We had English headsets.  We got the royal tour and now know more than previously.  

After that we figured out how to take a ferry and went across the bay. It was a nice ferry and cheap.  We had lunch at a sidewalk cafe and returned to a different port and walked miles to our home.  

By the time we returned home I was very wilted.  Dad stayed out to buy more zucchini.  Yum yum. Eat your heart out!

We don't know exactly what our usefulness will be here, but we are available.  Stay tuned. 

Fast forward 21 months later and they arrived home this week.  What impresses me the most is how much they gave up to go to a completely foreign place without family or friends (or even church members) and live there for nearly two years because of their strong conviction in God and their desire to share His love with everyone in the world.  Despite the language and cultural barriers, they left behind them a strong branch and many friends and memories.

This is from a letter my dad wrote a month or so before they came home about their church attendance:  We did not touch our record for attendance today (33 on December 11, 2016). But we were close. 30 people were with us, 20 in the hotel room and 10 joining by Skype for our Fast and Testimony meeting. From those who bore testimony and participated in our services, we heard five languages — Turkish, Farsi, German, Russian, and English. (The closing prayer was in Russian.) The whole of our Fast Meeting was conducted in Turkish, with English translation for the few who don’t speak the language of the country. That is as it should be.

The success didn’t come as a result of being able to speak Turkish or “convert” others.  It came by being there.  Staying there.  Riding it out.  Being consistent.  Being a rock.

An amazing mission for two retirees from faraway Orem, Utah.

I’m grateful to call them my parents.

Inspecting the fruit trees 21 months later ....

Brown Family Update — Man Against Society, Man, Nature and Self

Man against Society:

This past weekend was church's "youth conference" and it was held in Superior, AZ.  That meant we didn’t see much of our teenagers, Zach, Anna or Josh.  On Friday night I was looking forward to a quiet night with Lily and Sam, or non-teenagers, but that didn’t happen.  Before I knew it, we had four girl cousins over and three boy cousins – plus some friends.  I set up a tent in the basement per their demands (a tent would not last very long outside with our crazy dog) and then retreated to my quiet bedroom while they partied.  Jill stayed out in the kitchen area, ironing shirts for me (sweet wife) and watching Hallmark shows (a little too sweet for my taste).

Man Against Man:

The girl cousins got picked up before it was too late, but the boy cousins were spending the night.  Knowing I couldn’t just tell them to go to bed and not hear another sound, I went downstairs and parked myself near the tent, waiting for them to fall asleep.  When they noticed their grumpy uncle wasn’t leaving, they settled down and fell asleep pretty quickly.

Man against Nature:

Bad picture of a Montana bear, meant to represent "nature".

At about 12:30 a.m. I awoke to loud barking and clucking.  I went outside with a flashlight to investigate.  What I found was our Golden Retriever, a/k/a the Sock Retriever, a/k/a the Citrus Tree Slayer, sitting in our fenced-off chicken run barking like mad.  I had no idea how she got in there (it was the first time in the year she’s been with us).  I expected to find carnage of the worst sort, but all of the chickens were perched on the highest rafter in the coop, huddled together out of harm’s way.  I’m sure it was just a matter of time before one of them lost her grip and fell to the jaws of a very happy dog.

Needless to say, I wasn’t very happy.  I put the dog in her kennel and decided to wait until the morning to figure out the problem and then solve it.

Well, in the morning the boys let the dog out and then went to feed the chickens.  Bad idea.  Careful to close the gate behind them, they soon found the dog inside the children run with a chicken almost in her jaws.  It turns out that she had learned how to push herself underneath the fence to break into the run.   I guess once she learned how to breach the fence, she couldn’t resist and threw discretion the wind.  Luckily the boys were able to save the chicken and get the dog back into her kennel.  And now we knew her secret entryway.  Later in the day I fixed the problem.

Some would advocate for an electric “training” fence, but I prefer to the old “man against nature” approach to life.  It’s only cost me several hundred dollars, a few chickens and trees, and some sleep.

Meanwhile, the citrus trees are doing well.  And our new garden, which is also fenced off, is doing well.  Except the tomato plants.  I think I planted them a tad too early because it got cold a few nights ago and the plants look like they took a beating.  I’m hoping Miracle-Gro (a “man” invention) can salvage my fight against nature.  If not, I may need Home Depot to help “man” by giving him more tomato plants to plant.

Man against Self:

I’ve learned that me against self is a pretty bloody battle.  But with my wife, children, extra fencing, new and/or replaceable chickens and trees, Miracle-Gro, and Home Depot, “self” doesn’t stand a chance.

Nashville, here I come.

Speaking in Nashville at a conference on March 14.  I'm looking forward to visiting Nashville for the first time.  It's nice to have an excuse to go.

Brown Family Update – Farewell to a Legend

The last time Jill and I went on a trip together with just the two of us was 18 months ago.  It’s been a long time!  So we have been planning to break that horrible streak this spring.  I had two conferences that were good candidates – Philadelphia in February or Nashville in March.  Like most people, she preferred Nashville but it conflicted with the kids’ spring break, so she chose Philly.  We booked the tickets.

The week of the trip was anything but calm.  Jill and I were working fast and furious to get everything place.  Especially Jill.  Leaving presented some unique challenges.  Usually Jill’s sister, Cheryl, is our “go-to” because her kids are the same ages as ours, but she had another family staying with her and a neighbor’s funeral to help with.  We also thought about Jill’s mother, Grammie, but her 94-year-old father wasn’t doing so well and we knew she might have to fly to his hometown of Billings at any moment. 

The next best option was to let our kids watch our kids. We have a 17-year-old, a 15-year-old and a 14-year-old, plus our two younger children.  Surely they were old/mature enough to take care of themselves for a few days.  Actually, let me rephrase that.  We knew the three older children could survive without us, and might even be giddy with the lack of supervision.  But would they take care of their younger siblings?

Because this is unusual, we had several family meetings going over the plan and the schedules with the kids – and emphasizing the need for the older siblings to “step it up.”  “Here’s when we leave … here’s the schedule … this is what you, you and you need to be doing on this date at this time … this is who is going to drive you to school or practice … this is who is going to unlock the computers for homework [yes, we keep our computers under pretty strict guard],” etc. etc. 

Our flight was scheduled to leave at 10am on Wednesday.  When we woke up that morning, we learned that Jill’s grandfather in Billings who wasn’t doing well – Grandpa Leland (“Bub”) Wells – had passed away the night before.  We were sad, but it was not unexpected.  Initial reports were that the funeral was to be in about a week.  But as we drove to the airport, rumors started to fly around that the funeral would be on Saturday while we were in Philly.  Then when we were parking, the rumors were confirmed – Grandma Wells was wanted the funeral on Saturday.  The debate was over.

That put Jill in a real bind.  Go with her awesome husband to Philly or cancel her flight and try ti find a way to Billings.  She had been looking forward to this Philly trip for several months.  But she didn’t want to miss her grandpa’s funeral.  When we checked in at Southwest, they were very kind and helped look for returning flights on Friday, but none were available and/or convenient.  And American Airlines was pretty much the same.  Nor were they cheap!  Finally we found flights on Frontier Airlines to Denver from Philly first thing Friday morning.  We decided that was our best bet; we could rent a car from there.  We checked in our luggage (a suitcase and a roller bag) and hustled to security.  By then we were cutting it really close.

By the time we made it through security, check-in counter was paging our names.  And, by then, we both had a change of heart and decided it wouldn’t be that fun of a trip if I were there by myself and/or we were only in Philly for one day two nights only to return early Friday morning to make another trip to Billings.  So, at the gate we canceled our flight and asked Southwest to pull our suitcases.  Again, everyone was very helpful.  One suitcase made it back to us.  The other was already on the plane and too hard to retrieve, and it took a trip to Philly without us.

The rest of the day we scrambled to cancel our Frontier Airlines flight (talk about night and day customer service compared to Southwest) and find a way to Billings.  Cheryl, who missed her calling as a travel agent, quickly found cheap flights to Denver and cheap rental cars (we needed two for all of the AZ relatives going to Billings) that could take us the rest of the way.  With good weather forecasted for the next five days, we all booked flights to Denver for 6 a.m. the next morning.

Meanwhile, I worked from my home office that afternoon.  While I was working, Josh returned home from school.  When he walked in, I greeted him from the other room:  “Hey Josh.”  

He responded “Hey dad.” 

Without another word he worked on Jill’s computer and sent it to the printer in my office.  He walked in a few minutes later.  “Hey dad, can you sign this for me?” he asked, handing me a parental permission form for volleyball.  He acted as if he wasn’t surprised at all to see me back home.

I took the paper from him and looked up at him with a curious smile.  “Are you surprised to see me?”

He looked down at me.  “Oh.”  The wheels were turning.  “Yeah, when are you leaving?” 

“I already left,” I said.

Apparently Josh either forgot I was leaving that morning or thought I was leaving later in the day.  Or, this is probably more accurate, he forgot entirely that we were leaving.  Could he survive without me?  Undoubtedly.  Could he be trusted to take care of his siblings?

So much for all of our family meetings and parental speeches about “this is the time for you to show us you can step up and take care of each other.”  Josh wasn’t surprised at all to see me at home, which means the schedule Jill meticulously prepared was nowhere on his radar screen.

As for the rest of the story, the other kids – Sam, Lily and Anna (and even Zach) – were all shocked to see us when they returned from school that day.  So, maybe collectively, they would survive after all.

We spent the evening together as a family, did some more last-minute arrangements, and by 4:00 a.m. the next morning we were headed back to the airport.  I had hoped my bag was back from Philly, but it wasn’t scheduled to arrive until later in the day.  So, Jill and I boarded the plane with several family members and enjoyed a long day of traveling by plane (two hours), train (5 minutes), bus (10 minutes), and automobile (8 hours).  By 6 pm we were in Billings with Jill’s family.

Lots of people have shared lots of memories of Grandpa Bub the last few days.  He lived one of those lives that causes all of us to reflect on our own life.  Not that he accomplished some amazing feat or did things that only the rest of us can dream about (and feel bad that we aren’t that cool or smart or skilled).  To the contrary, he did the simple things that bring happiness that most of us forget and overlook in the business of life.

I interacted with Grandpa a lot over the years, usually in passing at a wedding or a reunion or a family trip to Billings.  Although I don’t have one of those “I remember when he took me fishing” stories, I do have a lot more memories of him than I do of my other grandfathers.  (One of my grandfathers passed away before I was born and the other passed away when I was five.)

My memories are all positive.  He wasn’t fancy or eloquent.  He was quiet.  And in his later years, he was even more quiet and often just liked to listen (to the extent he could hear you) and not talk.  The only exception was in bearing his testimony of the Savior.  It was like a floodgate opening and couldn’t say enough about how much he loved the Gospel and His Savior.  It brought him so much happiness and he couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else not being as happy has he was.

He experienced just about every trial in life, but always had a smile and a kind word.  The thing I heard the most about him this week was that he never met a person he didn’t like and was very generous.  He had his own business most of his life and offered jobs to many men who were without work even if his own business was struggling to make ends meet.

I think the best way to summarize his life is that he was a true disciple of Christ.  I’m grateful I knew him as my grandfather and my children have such a great man to emulate in their lives.

Some trips are worth putting on hold

At the funeral with Grandma Wells.  My dark suit was in Philly.