Kudos to Karolyi

Like many of you, I am sure, I have been in a blue funk the past couple weeks. They left as quickly as they came...

The Olympics are to a Sports fan (like Cameron and me) what Halloween is to 8-year-olds. What sports are on TV? ALL sports are on TV? Who is playing? EVERYONE is playing? What a fantastic two weeks it was. Swimming...great. Although, after the relay, I almost found myself wanting Phelps to win Silver...just so he would appreciate his next Gold a little more. Volleyball...great. Soccer...great. Rhythmic Dancing...not so great (but that is one woman's humble opinion). Gymnastics, although chalked full with scandals and instances of USA getting robbed...great. Field Hockey...great. Yeah, Field Hockey. Am I alone in thinking my whole life that "Field Hockey" was a practical joke? Like the seniors in High School telling freshman that the pool was on the roof in hopes of you falling for it and looking like an idiot. I had always heard about it, but never seen it played. That is, until two weeks ago when I enjoyed my lunch over a match (game?) between Germany and the Netherlands. It was the semi-final and ended six rounds into penalty shots, after two overtime periods...with me on my feet cheering...and thus spilling my All-Natural Ginger Ale.

I knew the Olympics were affecting me, mostly by way of 1) lack of sleep 2) complete obsession and therefore 3) total animosity toward anything non-Olympics. One morning last week I realized my obsession had gone too far when the few hours of sleep I got (USA vs. Spain Basketball kept us up until 3AM) was hindered by the dream I had. Here is the summary…it went something like this: Me, in the IOC's main office, with Alicia Sacramone by my side (read: by my waist), reading the "head honchos" the riot act. Picture me as a less hairy, younger, female, easier to understand Bela Karolyi...easy to do, right? If you do not know who Bela Karolyi is than you were obviously not fist pumping along with us from afar during his interviews with that weasel Bob Costas. In spite of how much we enjoyed The Games, its our opinion that NBC did a putrid job in its coverage of the Olympics. Cameron is still in mourning over the fact that we didn't get to see Tae Kwon Do, Judo, Wrestling, or any of these other martial events.

And now a confession: Over the past few weeks I have developed a sizeable hatred for the Olympic host country. No, it is not racism, per se, because it has nothing to do with the fact that they are Chinese. It does, however, have everything to do with the fact that they are manipulative cheaters who are mean to little girls and need to win, no matter the cost. There I said it.

The Olympics ran me through the full gamut of emotions. One minute I was crying, the next minute I was laughing, one minute I was yelling at the TV…ordering an opposing country’s athlete to “fall on your face!”, and the next minute I would be cheering and celebrating victory with a marital high-five and some fist pumps. Yes, there was much fist pumping happening during “The Games”.

So maybe it is good thing, for my stress levels, not to mention tennis elbow, that the Olympics are over. Although, even as I am acknowledging it being a good thing that the torch is out, in the back of my mind I am still counting down to London. 1,422 days to go...

All I have to hold onto for the next four years is this: there are hundreds, if not thousands, of 12 year-olds out there (4 year-olds in China) who will be spending the next four years, day-in and day-out, training in a gym/pool/field, ruining their family's lives, for their one shot at entertaining me...I mean, winning gold. Oh the beauty of competition.

So now you know what we have been doing for the past three weeks...but what about the last three months, you ask? (Or maybe you did not even notice I was gone).

A load of things have happened. We live in a new place. We live in a newly built house. We have a new puppy. We have The Rocky Mountains out our backdoor. All of these great reasons for not staying on top of the blog.

In an attempt to catch everyone up on our "going-ons", I am going to post some pictures. Consider this my lazy, and slightly conceited, way of making myself feel more important than I really am. In fact, I might even form this blog as a list to further prove my award winning laziness.

1) First stop on the Tour de Butler Summer is a River Trip we took with TJ and Colby. It was a private five day white water rafting trip down the Green and Yampa Rivers. We put in at the Gates of Lodore and, many bruises, sunburns, and mosquito bites later, took out at Dinosaur National Park. Ah, the only place where, not only is it socially acceptable to wear the same clothes for five days straight, but it is expected.

2) Post river trip, because we were finished with our summer travel obligations, we wasted no time in getting a puppy. It took us more than an hour at the puppy adoption facility to decide to welcome the mutt into our lives. We got plenty of looks that read: most people will adopt a kid with less consideration than this. Hey those people: Our caution paid off! Although he was 1) covered “head to claw” with ticks and 2) missing half of his tail, we took him and love him. His name is Mowgli, he is a black lab mix…with what, we do not know, and he hit the ground running….or should I say hiking?

During the breaks between house projects, which have been few and far between, we have taken some pretty amazing hikes. And now, just to change up the pace, an outline format. Been out of school for over four years now and I’ve still got “it”:

I. Hikes

a) Saw Mill – located about an hour west of our humble abode there is an old Saw Milling road that led us back into a beautiful bowl where we went “off path” and took an eight hour hike “Bear Grylls Style”. We went above tree line, hiked in the snow (in July), and stumbled on a herd of Elk.

b) Vulture Peak – this peak has been taunting us since we bought the property. It is out our back door and offers great bird’s eye views of our stomping grounds. This was Mowgli’s first hike which turned out to be a few hours longer and a few hundred feet higher than we expected. Once on top, panoramic views opened up and we were glad we risked life and limb to make it to the top.

c) Cirque Meadows – although it has been eight years now since I lived in Colorado, I do remember August weather. Rain showers in the afternoon, blue skies in the morning, warm, etc. Not the weekend two of Cameron’s brothers came to visit. Constant rain tried its best to hold us down, but, in the end, failed. Horseshoe pits were built, log planters were constructed, and hikes were tackled. After solving the puzzle - that was the hike book’s directions – and making it to the trailhead, we enjoyed an easy but beautiful “jaunt” up to Cirque Meadows.

d) Poudre to Rist – While we haven't exactly submitted applications to take over the helm on Man Vs. Wild, we like to think of ourselves as somewhat competent in “fend for yourself” situations. So, for Colby’s 14th birthday we planned (read: scheduled) a survival day-hike. The only plan we had was to hike from our house to Elizabeth and TJ’s newly purchased property…and in 6 hours. Minimal planning/mapping was done beyond that. We took water, a compass, knives, flint, and an MRE. We made it to Rist canyon…¾ of a mile away from their road, one hour ahead of schedule, and lbs. of wild raspberries heavier. If getting lost…on purpose…were possible, I would do it in a heartbeat.

Back in California the only “seasons” that were of any importance were football and basketball. The phase of our life known as “ignoring the weather” (aka: you don’t know what you got till it’s gone) is now over. Summer, Fall, Winter, and Spring are very noticeable now. Fall chores are underway, but with any luck Cameron and I will still have a few summer tricks up our sleeves. If not, and this cold front is the beginning of the end, we will still have some summer memories to hold onto: