An average day's pickins'

So every morning. Ok. Mostly just mornings I somehow magically awake at the same time as my hubby, we go on a date. To the raspberry and strawberry patches! I just really love it. And then we go back inside, bearing the fruit of our labors (Ha! See what I did there?) And he makes me a milkshake. While I get back into bed. Trophy husband? Tell me about it.
The couple who took this pic was hoping to
set Cameron up with their granddaughter.
Then they saw him walking out holding my
hand :)  P.s. he calls this my beaver
dress. "Tiff, wear that beaver one..
ya know...with the tail?"

And, our goal of attending the temple monthly is 100% Two whole months J And that has had this profound ability to turn ordinary living into something so much better. When we walk out of there, we are engulfed with this feeling of profound gratitude for all we have! Not wanting anything more. It is like we fall in love all over again. Not, that we ever fell out or anything. 

But, no time to lally gag. I’m already behind in adventures. So I will jump back a few weeks. When we went camping.

You see. We love the wilderness. And my husband. He is a mountain man. So, we loaded our camo hiking backpacks and hit the trail. For two whole days.

But we didn’t just meander to a camp ground. We went up. Way up. To where the wild beasts roam. At about 13,000 feet we were officially off the trail. It was awesome.

We saw hundreds of Elk. Heard motheres calling to their babies and herding them safely beyond the mountain side. Stood in awe as huge Bull Elk walked along the skyline. It was absolutely majestic.

We walked through a skunkweed field! It covered Malou's head!
Right above my head was a massive heard of elk. But, my
lil' phone didn't quite have the zoom power to capture them.

Anways…after setting up camp we decided to climb to the tippy-toppy of the tallest mountains to scout sheep. Which is the hardest thing I have ever done. They are impossible to see. Seriously. You are looking for grey animals standing in grey rocks.
While scouting (Cameron
quickly realized I was no
help) Malou and I bonded. 
So, after hours of staring at rocks. Two days of staring, actually. (We did see sheep! But no rams. L) And with tight sore bottoms we began the downhill trek.

So, on our way out of the cliff sides we started singing on of my favorite songs. Ok, not even. I’m actually a little embarrassed that this is the song we sang. But it just popped into my head, and would not leave until it was given sufficient attention.  So, in a lovely melody, we took sang “beans, beans, the magical fruit” in a wide variety of pitches. Harmonizing. Vibrato. Opera. You name it. It really is such an easy song to work with. And, before we knew it, we had made it we were back on the trail home! Singing makes the time fly! Perhaps next time we will be a little more classy with our choice of song…hopefully.
We climbed to the tippy-toppy of that tall rocky cliff. And I
was COLD! And yes, I'm wearing binoculars...like I'm
actually going to see anything. And yes, that is the
warmest jacket I brought. Idiot. 

So, we’re still walking. And then we came upon a stream. And he caught a fish with his hands. With his hands! Let me explain. I totally doubted him. And then he laid down on his belly and dropped his hands into the cold mountain water. While laying without a movement, he explained to me that all he needed was to have a fish swim close enough to where he could massage its belly. And the fish would like it so much it would just roll over and go limp. Now, I think my husband may know I’m not super smart. And probably takes advantage of that. By telling me stories like this so I can embarrass myself by telling the whole world about it online. Either way…I swear to you. Whatever he did. It worked. And before I knew it a flying fish landed at my feet and my husband pushed himself up off the bank with a “see, I told you” grin smothering his face.

So, after our fishing extravaganza we hit the trail once again. And, I suddenly felt my face feeling…hurt. And tight. It began to tingle a little. I asked Mr. Barr if I was burnt. “eh, little red” he said. That was his whole response. That was it. Nothing more. No “owie” expression on his face. Now, this is important. You need to recognize the lack of emphasis that man put on my sunburn. Because, when we finally arrived at the truck, I learned that Mr. Barr was either blind or just never actually saw my face. Because it wasn’t just a little red. It was destroyed. Don’t I look like the bad guy off Captain America? I’m actually surprised my nose didn’t just fry right off my face like his…it felt like it just might.

The difference between
the neck and chin is just
so sad.  
But, I gotta give a little shoutout to my Mumsie in law and her voodoo oils. Cuz they totally worked! Thank heavens for smart Mommas!

And since I’m on a nature kick. I just have to tell you. About the other day when my husband got bit by a rattlesnake. On his leg. But luckily, he had heavy duty boots on and the snake just stuck in them. And didn’t get any further. I wasn’t there to have a total emotional breakdown, which is great. Cuz I totally would’ve. I simply had to hear about it after seeing him alive and well. That still didn’t stop me from imagining him limping off the mountain, with a swollen black leg. Almost to the pickup passing out and not having the strength to call his wife. And then..oh you know. Dying.
I am so dramatic. But, nonetheless, he didn’t die. So I am so grateful for tender mercies! And a husband. Who is alive. 


His side of the story...

Yes. I am still explaining our love story. So sorry. But, I just keep thinking my children will thank me one day.

So, remember I'm going on a mission...then kind of accidentally started falling for this one boy on facebook? Here is his story. A little less dramatic. But still miraculous.

My husband! I mean...is this
 real life?
This boy. He is 29. Which is great. Because older men are better. At everything. Actually, I don't know. I just like that he is old. I just do. Anyways...being old, he had been home from his mission quite some time. About ten years to be exact.

One day he got an email. On facebook. From my brother in law. Who was in the Brazil MTC with him. Ten years ago. Crazy. I know. So, they haven't talked for ten years. And then. Out of the blue. He mentioned some girls he thought this boy might be interested in. The boy wasn't so sure about it. Until he saw my dark brown hair. Seriously. My hair. That was all he cared about. Boys are so weird.

So, after a slight moment of potential hope, he brushed it aside. A mission. He wasn't going to mess with that. Then that darling brother-in-law of mine helped me out. He pushed the issue a little. Telling him just to give the girl a shot. I love my brother in law. He did a good job.

So the boy did. He added the brown haired girl. And talked to her on the phone, in his car. Cuz, he didn't want his parents getting any ideas.

So, he liked this girl. She seemed to be just about what he had been looking for. And he had looked. Trust me. For ten years he looked. And he pretty much knew what he wanted. So, for two years he kissed no girls. And there were offers. But, they just did not fit the bill. (Oh what a wonderful thing is is for my ego to sneakily stare at all these darling cute girls my husband passed up. For me. How in the world?)  Anyways...He knew what he wanted. (And it just so happened to be me!) And he knew he would snatch her when he found her. So, he waited. For the precise moment. And it came.

And it was because this boy was patient. And he asked Heavenly Father to answer his prayers. And he worked hard. And had faith. And his turn came.

Again, God is in the details of our lives. He had been planning this for years. At least ten. When that boy met that brother in law of mine. So watch out. You never know what is stewing in your life.

So anyways...we met. In Vegas. For five days. We'll just talk about the first.

I knocked on the door. He answered. And I died. Literally. He was wearing non-grandpa pants. Thank you to the fashion Gods. They saved him. But more importantly. He glowed. And I just...I mean, He was my best friend. I knew it. There he was. I had been looking for him. I ran to the bathroom and fanned my face. Dabbled a little water on my fire red cheeks. Took a deep breath and walked out into this daydream.

Here we are. Laughing. Until we fall down dead. 
The day flew. We talked. And kind of fell in love. And then night came. So. Duh. We watched a movie. And, we snuggled. I don't even know how it started? Oh wait. I do. I got a drink. Came back. And slam-bam. There were his arms out waiting for me. Annnyways...

The movie. Dancing with wolves. It's kind of weird. But I love it now. Cuz this is where the magic happened. You see, there is this part where all sorts of riskay things start happening. Like clothes falling off. Gross. I know. So, my husband, in his infinate wisdom pulled my chin around close to his face. To save me from seeing the filth on the tv. It was so kind of him. Thus, in order to distract us from what was happenin on the big screen, we... Well, we laughed. And felt awkward. And then. Yup. We kissed. It was awesome.

Then we stayed up. All night. Not kissing. Duh. We talked. And talked. And laughed. And cried. cried! We seriously cried.

And the next four days, we were best friends. Me. Being late for everything. Putting make-up on in his car. Sleeping while he drove. Getting lost. And everything else that you do with your best friend.

And, now we are ((still)) totally in love. And married.