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.

Making the Browns Great Again

Trump won as President under the “Make America Great Again” slogan.  I’ve decided it’s a slogan fit for our family.  “Make the Brown Family Great Again.” 

So far I'm not off to a Great Start.  I lost my phone Saturday night.  It all started when I took Sam and Anna camping to Bulldog Canyon – over by Usery Pass – not too far away.  We had a good time, cooked dinner and dessert and figured out a way to watch a movie on my laptop while enjoying the nice desert evening.  I enjoyed it so much I decided to take Jill back to the same spot the next evening for date night – i.e. “smores” and a movie.  When Jill and I pulled up Saturday evening we found Anna’s sandal in the dirt.  We didn’t even know it was missing.  But it was an expensive brand, so it was lucky we found it!  But when Jill and I left that night I apparently left my phone on top of the truck and, well, I arrived home with no phone.  I waited until the next morning to go look for it, but no luck.

Without my phone, I have no way to coordinate or plan or propel my life forward.  Not a good first step in making Our Family Great Again.

The kids are doing pretty good at their part, though.  Josh and Zach made their volleyball teams this week.  It helps that there are no cuts for kids Zach’s age, but, hey, “Greatness” isn’t always about beating out the other kid, although it often should be.  Josh wasn’t surprised he made the team.  When I asked if he made it, he texted me back:  “Of course.”  Now that’s American Greatness.

Sam’s volleyball team (the "Batboys") won the first game of their end-of-the-season tournament.  His team is the only all-boys team in the league.  The girls team are fairly serious – they’ve all been playing volleyball since they were three.  Now, at the age of eleven, they pretty much play it year round to the exclusion of all other sports.  So when a bunch of rag-tag boys show up and beat them, it’s surprising to everyone.  Anyway, Sam’s team won, checking yet another Great Box.  

Then Sam played in a basketball game later in the day.  Years ago Jill and I swore off ever letting our kids do two sports in one season, but the exceptions have definitely swallowed the rule.  I only mention it here because I’m pretty sure that any Great Family has at least one kid playing two sports at one time.  And I mention it because Sam’s basketball team won.

Lily discovered basketball.  Not wanting our family to be Too Great, I have held her out of sports thus far in her life.  But by accident she discovered basketball this week and, to no one surprise, she’s already Obsessed, which I’m pretty sure is the same thing as Being Great.  All she wants to do is “dribble” and “shoot”.  It’s Quite Impressive, except her dribbling is usually “one dribble,” followed by “ten steps,” followed by a “shot” at a basketball hoop only five feet above the ground.  So far her shot percentage is very low.  That’s okay.  I’m willing to conceded that some Greatness requires work.

Jill, of course, is Great.  When I arrived home one night this week she announced to me that she had been a “Good Mom”.  Although we are aiming for “Great,” we can live with “Good” on occasion.  Anyway, I think what she means is that she didn’t have to threaten any kids the entire day.  Teenagers require many threats to achieve Greatness.  They have learned – and relearn whenever they forget – that Jill expects them to pull their weight around the house.  They think it’s Bad.  I think it is Great.

So, another week has come and gone.  And Greatness is almost in reach.  Except for my phone.  And my Orchard, which is still hanging on (if only barely). 

Great Scott! (16 years old?)

Batsam posing with his volleyball team after their Great Victory

Brown Family Update -- Orchard of Death

Remember those Costco citrus trees I planted last week?  Well, they have been under heavy attack by Daisy, the Golden Retriever (aka the “Sock Retriever and now known as the “Citrus Tree Slayer”).  I had no idea that she cared about the trees so much.  I planted four on the side of the house near the chicken coop and mulched the soil with smelly citrus mulch intended for new trees.  Apparently it has an odor to it that Daisy cannot resist.

Well, a morning or two later Sam came in from feeding the chickens and announced one of the trees had been dug up.  I couldn’t believe it, but sure enough it was not only dug up but ripped into shreds like the chicken that sadly escaped from the coop last month and enjoyed only a moment of freedom before it realized its mistake.

What do you say to the dog?  Well, we had words.  She knew I was not happy with her but she did not know why.

I decided I had to put up a fence, but I didn’t have time or materials.  Instead, I put up one of those flimsy orange plastic fences you sometimes see around a construction site that warns more than it deters.  I used miscellaneous wood and metal poles as stakes and thought it would be enough to keep her away.  Jill added some “chili powder” on the dirt around the trunks to make it less appetizing for the dog.

Poor trees.  Removed from the comfort of Costco only to be planted, stalked and seasoned at our house.  Needless to say, we thought the problem was solved.

Not so.  The next morning the orange fence had been ripped in two places and another tree had been badly damaged.  I repaired the fence and the tree as best I could.  I also gave Daisy another scolding.  By now she began to realize that she shouldn’t follow me to that part of the yard.  By now I began to realize she loved the mulch, but she also loved the citrus leaves and branches just as much.

I still didn’t have time to buy a sturdier fence, so I repaired the orange one again and, sure enough, the next morning it was ripped up.  This time the trees were still standing.  But it was a matter of time before she decided it was time to dig up some more.

Finally, Saturday arrived and I bought a wire fence, some metal stakes and a few more trees from Costco to replace the casualties.  I spent the better part of the afternoon with Sam, Anna and Zach planting new trees and building the fence.

And guess what?  When Sam went out Sunday morning to feed the chickens, guess who he found on the inside of the fence?  Yup.  Daisy.  And one badly damaged tree.  The fence wasn’t made out of the strongest wire, but it is the same material I used for the chicken coop and fence and she hasn’t figured out how to break into the coop thus far.  And yet she somehow get into the “orchard of death” but couldn’t (or didn’t want to) figure out how to get out.

So, tonight and future nights will be a kennel night for her until I can figure out a better solution.

Meanwhile, I’m putting my midlife crisis on hold and have decided not to trade my house and profession for a farm, dairy or orchard.

Morning sun rising on the Orchard of Death

Scott K. Brown II Lewis Roca Rothgerber Christie LLP Attorney: Triple Billings Trip 2016

Scott K. Brown II Lewis Roca Rothgerber Christie LLP Attorney: Triple Billings Trip 2016: In 2016 I went to Billings Montana three times.  I like to call it my Triple Billings year.  The last trip was with my family over the holid...

Family Day? Nice Try ...

Jill and I decided to do a “family day” on the first Saturday of every month and this is an exceprt of our our first attempt. Unfortunately, Josh and I had stayed up most of the night before, so we were both grumpy and unpleasant to be with. Our family day went like this:

1. Eat breakfast together and do dishes. Get mad at Josh for not helping. Assure Sam that the chicks are not about to die. Help Lily with her hurt foot (long story - may be broken, we will see).

2. Clean the family toy room. Josh was happy to miss wrestling practice to help, but Zach begged to go to a basketball event that day.

3. After what seemed like an eternity sorting toys in the toy room, we all go to Anna’s soccer game (probably the last time the entire family went to a sporting event for a family member was when Scottie, who is almost 20, was a kid). She played goalie and did well. She got sunburned. Lily had to be carried everywhere because of her hurt foot. Zach and Sam played catch with the football. Josh tried to catch up on sleep on the sideline.

4. After the game we went to lunch at a restaurant. We had to tell the kids multiple times that it was not appropriate to complain about eating out and there were plenty of left-overs at home if they wanted to keep complaining. Eventually we ate and everyone calmed down. Josh tried to catch up on sleep by putting his head on the table most of the time. Josh and Zach ordered “wings” that were too spicy. Neither can tolerate “spicy” food very well. So, there were a lot of trades during lunch.


5. After lunch we all kind of did our own house/yard jobs and then we let the kids have their freedom back.  For the first time all day, everyone was happy.


I’d say family day was moderately successful. We didn’t think there were be that many conflicts on the schedule that day but we were shocked with how much stuff we had to say “no” to in order to spend time with the family like that. 

Music Appreciation and EVMCO

December 6, 2015 (part 2)

Saturday night was the night I had tickets to Jill’s choir concert -- EVMCO. We decided it was time to take Josh, Zach and Anna to the concern. None of them wanted to go since it meant they couldn’t hang out with friends. Little did they know that a lot of their friends are in the youth concerts. In fact, Zach and Anna had such a good time pointing out all of their friends when they were singing that I had “shush” them quite a few times.

Anyway, I was mostly interested to see Zach’s reaction to the singing since, as you know, he sings the most in our family. I thought he would love the music and the power and sound, etc. And I could tell from the get-go that he was blown away by how good it was. It didn’t seem to faze Anna or Josh at all. In fact, Josh complained that it was too loud and we should have sat in the back so his ears wouldn’t hurt. 

I think if the concert was 45 minutes instead of 90 minutes, Zach would have been in heaven. But some of the songs were a little long for him - mostly the obligatory Christmas songs from other countries (Africa and Germany, to name a few). But the show ended with a bang and I think Zach appreciated it. 

Go EVMCO -- https://www.millennial.org/east-valley/

Wrestlings of Yesteryear

It used to be that I had two sons that wrestled.  I didn't know anything about the sport, but I studied up on it and eventually came to enjoy the intensity of the matches.  But, alas, no more.  I found this old journal entry from last year when I took a younger son to an older son's wrestling match.

December 6, 2015

I took Sam with me to Josh’s wrestling tournament on Saturday. He was extremely upset that he has to spend the afternoon with me at a tournament than with his friends at home. He was in tears. It was more than he could bear. But once we left and he realized he was going to be with me regardless, he calmed down. Also, we also stopped at the gas for a drink and king-sized candy bars. He didn’t complain the rest of the trip.

He had a lot of questions to ask about the tournament, like how one “wins” or how a team “wins” and stuff like that. I think the format was very confusing to him since there’s no true champion. That said, Josh did pretty good. He’s wrestling JV and, this won’t surprise you, believes he is better than the Varsity wrestler in his weight class. So, he thinks it is beneath him to wrestle JV. But he went to the tournament this Saturday and Sam and I showed up for his first match just in time. He pinned the guy in the second period. Josh is tall and skinny and I think most wrestlers think they are going to dominate him and are pretty surprised when that doesn’t happen. After that match, Sam and I went to go find food. Josh requested a chili cheese dog from Sonic. I couldn’t find a nearby Sonic, but we found a local restaurant with a really messy version of a chili cheese dog. When we got back Josh couldn’t eat it because he was just about to wrestle again. Unfortunately, he lost his second match by a point. Josh thought he was tied at the end of the third period so he wasn’t trying any moves during the last 30 seconds thinking they were headed into overtime. It came back to haunt him. Anyway, since Josh doesn’t think he belongs on JV, it ticked him off pretty good. And it didn’t affect his appetite - he crushed the chili cheese dog, as Spencer L. would say. That’s not something I would eat in the middle of a wrestling tournament, but I know Josh is a little different in that respect. So, he finally got to his third and final match of the day and came out like a bull. He looked so different from his second match that even Sam noticed it. Josh won 5-0. Afterwards Sam leaned over to me and said: “What was it that Josh ate again?” Apparently the chili cheese dog is to Josh what spinach is to Popeye. 

Triple Billings Trip 2016

In 2016 I went to Billings Montana three times.  I like to call it my Triple Billings year.  The last trip was with my family over the holidays.  It was a blast (of cold air).  At first we were tempted to drive there in our rear-wheel Suburban.  Our travel plans evolved as follows:

1.  Drive to Montana and back if the weather cooperates.  (Too risky in our Suburban -- and too long.)
2. Drive to Utah and rent a 4x4 and drive the rest of the way to Montana.  (Still too long and now too expensive.)
3.  Fly to and from Montana on Allegiant and use a relative's truck while there.  (Too expensive.  Otherwise, too easy.)
4.  Fly to Montana on Christmas Day in a four-hour delayed flight and unexpectedly buy a 4x4 family car (goodbye Suburban) and drive home from Montana on two consecutive windy, cold, icy days.  (Not too risky, not too long, not too expensive -- and not too easy.  Just right.)

We picked option #4.

The weather was perfect for Billings -- in the 20's during the day.  And the skiing was wonderful -- two great days -- one at Bridger Bowl and the other at Red Lodge.  And, of course, family was awesome.  The Larsens hosted us; Grandma and Grandpa Wells engaged us in lots of interesting conversations; and the Wells entertained our kids!

Oh sure, we all got sick at some point during the trip (thanks Dane!).  And we barely made it out of Montana before the freeway was shut down due to zero visibility from Blowing Snow.  But what's a Brown Family Vacation without a little drama?

Christmas Day in the Allegiant terminal (no this is not a selfie - someone actually took the picture for us)

Zach and Sam at Red Lodge ski trip

Closed freeway (we skirted 60 miles of the closure by driving a snowdrift covered frontage road)