From the mouths of babes...

It's official.  We've been called to nursery.  And so, since we don't have kids of our own, you'll have to enjoy the stories we share about the kids in nursery.  Without further ado, some of our favorite quotes to date:

While putting together different puzzles with cars, planes, trains, etc. one of the boys told Nate:  "This is an ambulance.  It takes motorcycle people to the hospital."

When asked what his dad's name is, one little boy responded, "Ron."  When asked what his mom's name is, he said, "Just plain Mom."

While playing duck, duck, goose: "Duck, duck... (pause...place hand on head) I can't remember!  I can't remember!  I can't remember what comes NEXT!"

And today's kicker... I don't know how this one came up.  But one little boy told us, "The number one rule:  Don't be queer!"

Nate & Kate...Plus 8

Whenever Nate and I go somewhere new and introduce ourselves, we always get a chuckle.  "Nate and Kate, huh?  Like the TV show?"  Hahaha.  No.  First of all, it was Jon and Kate and second of all it didn't end all that well and we have higher hopes than that.

However, in the past few weeks we have acquired 8 children, give or take one or two.

It all happened a month and a half ago.  A harried member of our bishopric interrupted Sunday School, asking for a couple to volunteer for an hour to help in the senior nursery (yes, apparently we have a junior and a senior nursery) as the assigned couple did not show up.  You could hear the crickets in the room as people very carefully avoided eye contact with the bishopric member.  Nate and I looked at each other and figured, why not?  It was only for an hour until the next couple came in, right?  So, like the naïve young couple we are, we volunteered.

Did the next couple come for the last hour of church?  I think not.

And the primary/bishopric found their next victims.

We have not been called to nursery.  But for the past month we have been subbing.  Our class is for the 2 and 3 year olds and we usually end up with 8 kids.  It has been quite and adventure and has taught me that I do not have the requisite energy to follow in octomom's footsteps.

It has also taught me the following things about 2 year olds:

1.  They don't know how to play nice.
2.  Their attention span doesn't even last 20 seconds let alone 2 minutes.
3.  They already know their gender roles.

For point three, I have a rather interesting example that makes me ponder nature vs. nurture.  I mean these kids are little.  How much socialization regarding gender roles can they have yet?

There is a massive toy box in the nursery room that is padlocked shut.  At 11:15 we open the box for play time.  The first week I was surprised that there were very few "girl" toys in the box.  Mainly just action figures, cars, trains, and a rubber snake.  The kids love the rubber snake.  They love to attack each other with the rubber snake.  They love to attack the teachers with the rubber snake.

Well, everyone seemed happy with the lack of dolls, barbies, etc. in the toy bin and who was I to say anything?  I'm just the sub.

Two weeks ago, though, things came to a head.  One of the little girls came up to me with the snake.  I was pretty sure I was about to get eaten alive, as that is what usually happens.  When she started to hand me the snake I asked her if it was eating me.  She said, "No, it's a baby."

Okay, that did it.  We had to find our girls some dolls.  No more carrying fake reptiles around and pretending they're cute little babies.

One of the moms was in the nursery with us and she said there used to be some dolls in a bin on the very top shelf of the nursery closet.  So I investigated and a few minutes later I found the dolls.  The bin was rather small but it was packed full of about six dolls and their bedding.  Well, the two little girls we had in nursery surrounded me instantly when they saw the dolls.  Within minutes, the snake's mommy had her doll tucked into bed and the other little girl (who is the 6th of 7 children) had her five dolls tucked into bed.

In my month of subbing nursery, I have not seen those little girls so content to play.

Then the first little girl said she needed to go to the store with her baby but she didn't have a car seat.  Wow, she will be a really responsible mom, if she's already thinking about that at her young age!  I told her to pretend the bin was a car seat which she did, and she went on her merry way to the store, baby safe and sound in the car seat.

Meanwhile, the boys were still playing with their cars, bouncy balls, and action figures, causing horrific crashes with the cars and hitting each other with the balls.  Just being happy, rambunctious little boys.

So it makes me wonder, nature or nurture?

Sprinklers

I dodge sprinklers.

It is quite a dash, I assure you.

First of all, let me begin by saying my apartment complex is nice.  The buildings are newer, the facilities are clean, and the grounds are well tended and maintained.

My apartment is on the ground floor.  The door opens to a breezeway which, at the end of the building, continues on (uncovered) as a winding sidewalk leading circuitously to the clubhouse and my goal: the workout room.

For the first few weeks we lived in the new complex, getting to the workout room was a breeze.  Open door.  Turn right.  Follow the path to the clubhouse.  Easy as pie.  I only paid slight attention to the wet sidewalk.  "Did it rain?" I'd ask myself, the thought leaving as quickly as it came.

Cut to two weeks ago.  5:12 AM.  Open door.  Turn right.  Follow the sidewalk...stop.  Water was shooting across the path, blocking my exit from the building.  My first inclination was to turn around and go back to bed.  No way was I walking through sprinklers to get to the gym.  Pause.  (It was 5:12 AM.  Things require more time to process that early in the morning.)  The voice of reason chided, "You're not seriously going to let the sprinklers stop you.  What a lame excuse."

Well, I certainly wasn't going to run through the sprinklers, either!  I glanced back at the enemy to plot my next move.  The sprinkler rotated.  As it arched, it generously watered the sidewalk.  So glad we're keeping our sidewalks healthy and happy.  We sure don't want any part of them to shrivel up and die.

I decided to run down the sidewalk when the sprinkler rotated away from my building and follow the path the opposite direction, where I would then backtrack to the clubhouse.  Good plan, right?

Yep, except for as my eye followed the path I would take, my jaw dropped.

All of the sidewalks were being watered.

Bed was looking better and better.  And then...

I blinked.  The path to the gym was clear as all of the sprinklers rotated away from my building at once.  All I had to do was run, in a diagonal line, to the clubhouse door.  Straight through the grass.

Yep, that's right, folks.  If you don't want to get wet from the morning sprinklers, avoid sidewalks and run through the grass.

So now, if you happen to drive past my apartment early in the morning and see someone sprinting through the yard you know what's going on.  Open door.  Turn right.  Dodge sprinklers.

New York City

Between our work and school schedules, Nate and I had one week during the entire summer where we could both take a vacation.  After thinking of all the places we'd like to go, we bought plane tickets to New York City.  We had a great time seeing the sights, going to plays, visiting with Nate's cousin, and eating yummy food.  While we were there, I became very grateful for three things:

1.  A traveling companion - especially when our train to the airport wasn't running the day we left.

2.  Google maps and the iPhone - otherwise we'd still be wandering around Greenwich Village looking for Bleecker Street

3.  Signs - on the streets, on the subways, on buildings - they are definitely one of the greatest inventions ever

Here are some highlights of our trip:

Seeing Mary Poppins on Broadway. We really enjoyed the show.  It is different from the movie, but still so much fun to watch.  There was a little boy behind us who could not figure out how on earth Mary Poppins flew.  "Mom!!  How does she do that??"

Taking a food tour in Greenwich Village.  We ate such yummy food and learned a lot about the history and architecture in the Village.  Our favorite stops: pizza store and cheese shop.  Mmmmm!!

Visiting Nate's cousin Jamie.  It was so fun to see her in her element!  Usually we only see her when she comes out to Utah for vacation.  We were able to see her several times during our visit.  She was a great hostess.  Thanks Jamie!

Seeing Wicked.  Nate won the lottery for the tickets.  Our words of advice - go planning to win the lottery and you will.  It is all about attitude!  There were at least 100 people vying for the lottery tickets but somehow Nate's name was drawn.  We enjoyed the play and had 2nd row seats.

Being evacuated from Times Square.  Our trip to NYC about 2 weeks after the failed bombing attempt in Times Square.  Sure enough, while we were there visiting the M&M store (yes, a whole store, 3 stories, dedicated to my favorite candy!) when the police shut down Times Square.  Police tape and everything.  Rather exciting!  

Me in M&M Heaven

The crowd being funneled away from Times Square

Riding the Staten Island Ferry...and being turned back to Staten Island by the Coast Guard.  This was on our last night.  We thought we may never make it home, being stranded on the Island.  Lucky for us, it was just a communication problem with the Coast Guard relating to an earlier power failure on the boat ride over...and we made it back to the City in time to meet Jamie for ice cream and get back to our hotel.

We actually also rode the ferry the first day we arrived while we were waiting to check into our hotel.  The pictures are from that ride.

                      

Nate on the Ferry in front of the Statue of Liberty, which can be seen on the right.  I couldn't get my camera to cooperate.

Walking the Brooklyn Bridge, eating pizza at Grimaldi's, and getting lost in Brooklyn.  The one time Google Maps failed me.  But great pizza!

Walking through Central Park. It was so pretty and it is so amazing that this huge park exists in such a busy city.  We enjoyed walking through and pointing out places we recognized from movies.  We also enjoyed seeing turtles in the different ponds throughout the park. 

We had a great time in New York City.  It was fun to see the sights and to go on an adventure together.  But we were also happy to come home.  As Ernest Hemingway said about New York, "It's a town you come to for a short time." 

Continuing a legacy...

Ahh yes, I love fishing. I like this picture, proof that you can have the best of everything. A beautiful sunny day in the middle of the desert, a great hairline, and good fishing. I guess you can only have so much though. I theorize that in anticipation of getting a great girl, God decided that I couldn't keep it all. The hairline had to go : / But I still got fishin'.

Both of my grandfathers before me loved fishing. It's in my blood. Although none of Grandpa Rohbock's children got hooked, my father must have realized the weighty responsibility left on his shoulders and taught me to love the practice. At first, Brad rebelled, but shortly before his mission, he fell victim to the inevitable. In tribute to fishing, as well as all those who taught me to love the sport I have made this collage from excerpts from a memoir I wrote, and my favorite fishing photos. Enjoy!


The beach was a bright white with light shale. I was disappointed that there weren’t any fish in sight, though I was assured that they were there. My older fishing companions would often point and say, “did you see that fish jump?” I looked for large colorful fish jumping in broad rainbow-like arcs out of the water. Nope, I didn’t see any fish, but I knew Dad and Grandpa were expert fisherman and knew what to look for.

I was at most five at the time, and at that period I was enamored by the concept of boxing. Knowing I was intrigued by boxing, and in attempt to get me psyched up to go fishing, my fishing companions told me that the best part of fishing is “fighting” the fish. Naturally, I pictured myself boxing with a cartoon-like fish balling up its gaudy fins and taking swings at me. At home, I owned a kiddie punching bag – the type with the heavy sandbag in the bottom so that when you punch the over-sized balloon style bag it tips back, hits the floor and pops back up for more. Similarly I imagined my fight-to-come with the cartoon fish. I could just picture it tipping back each time I took a swing and coming back for more. What great fun! I was for it, and so we had left on our fishing expedition.

I doubt it took long for me to lose interest in this new activity of waiting for a fish to take the bait, but after a length of time and some rebuke for throwing rocks into the water, I was called to fight a fish. I ran eagerly to Grandpa, who handed me a large, bamboo-yellow pole and was instructed to “reel him in.” I tried for a while, eagerly reeling the fish in for the fight, but it was harder than it sounded, and I offered the pole back for Grandpa to finish the job. He quipped, “But don’t you want to fight the fish?” I responded in the affirmative, and after some time a bright silver fish flopped on the bright, white beach under a bright, blue sky and a harsh, naked sun. My eyes hurt and, confused, I inquired: “When do I get to fight the fish?”

Well, now I’m older, but when I start anything new I still go through the same process of conceptualizing a new activity, which is followed by the harsh contrast of reality once I’ve actually had the experience. Each case is similar to the first. My fantasies are brought into check, as reality flops on the ground, and the bright truth hurts my mind; just as the sun was too much for my eyes to take in all at once that distant day on the beach of that small unknown reservoir. That’s where life happens – in small unknown settings you never anticipated being in, thinking you’ll get one thing but, in reality, you get something else. Compared to fantasy, reality is always harsh by contrast. Yet, something may spring from this discrepancy – a spontaneity of perception which lends a powerful artistic overtone to life and makes for colorful, vivid memories.

Since that distant day I’ve continued fishing, though it’s much different now: I now fly fish. Everyone needs a setting in which to just ‘be.’ Fly fishing is my setting.Standing knee-deep in a chilly current, I’m reminded that at least in that world, I’m a visitor. Some people like to hike to get into nature; I like to fish. When I fish I can just ‘be’ amidst nature, which is why I only fish rivers. Once in a river, I can feel the essence of nature best. I believe it’s because the thing that gives the order in nature purpose, is life. The river is always the source of life in whatever habitat it is. Life is momentous, and unlike a lake or pond, so is a river. In a river, I love to just absorb my surroundings. I love the random yet purposeful intervals of sound created by the turbulence of water. I love to watch the dull shimmer of the water as a light breeze sheens its surface . . . air and water. The struggling reflections of the surrounding world, broken by every ripple, yet connected . . . water and light. The world beneath the surface is present in the perpetual motion of the current, yet the fish remain stationary, their bodies only slightly undulating as they fight the current – like we fight gravity. The subject hardly conscious of the opposition

Another reason I like fly fishing, is because you must be so keenly aware of everything. Awareness is key to success; it brings you closer to your surroundings. For instance, the best part of fishing for me is when the fish rises to take your fly. Then, if you are aware, all the separate components of your surroundings somehow come together in a brief episode. The episode is preceded by a struggle, in which the fisherman tries to understand the environment and feel where the fish lies. It is then initiated by ‘the rise’ and epitomized when the connection is made. This connection is made not just with the fish, but with all your surroundings, and you understand for an instant – because you see a bigger picture as though through someone else’s eyes. This aspect of perception is so abrupt that it invalidates the continuity of time. It could last for five minutes, but you’d never know any more than you can know how long a dream lasts. Similarly, it follows that when the fish lands in your net the moment is gone. You wonder where it went, like you grope in futility for that dream you know you had but can’t retrieve when the rays of the sun break your slumber. And so, like a dream, this moment between the rise and the net is set apart from the continuity of time. I do know this: the episode begins with the connection. The connection is at the top of the rise, and reality is what lands in your net; or eludes it.

So you have to be aware, and when you see the fish rise to take the fly it doesn’t surprise you because everything is so intentional. The feeling in that moment is surreal and leaves you in awe. To the onlooker, that brief episode beginning at the apex of the rise, when you’ve hooked the fish and the fight erupts; could appear less than dramatic. Between you and the fish, however, it is momentous; and, the fight itself is a delicate dance, since the connection – a fragile plastic line—can end at any time breaking the moment.

For me, life happens in that moment.

I used to wonder what the purpose of art is. It seemed outwardly such a useless occupation. A photographer, for instance conveys an image, a conceptually simple task finished at the press of a button; or take a composer, who scribbles notes on parchment. Perhaps art was defined in a mechanical skill, like wielding a paint brush or dribbling a soccer ball – measured by the difficulty of a feat. I had experienced art to some degree, however, and I realized there was something to it beyond the mechanical skill. I have found it to be the pursuit to create, in some cases to distill, make evident, or simply realize something’s essence. And so, perhaps an artist doesn’t pursue painting or sculpting, but something more meaningful.

Perhaps in English we misuse the term ‘art.’ We too often use it to identify a product. Art is a process, which sometimes produces a tangible product, but always a realization. Artisans are often designated as those who produce a tangible art product. The term could be expanded. For instance, a great artist directs his audience to the realization of the truth, consequently the audience experience to a lesser extent the realization that the artist had. In a way, the great artist is an audience to begin with, simply by observation, and by observation of nature or, say emotion, produces a work, say a symphony. Then there’s a secondary artist, the sort who masterfully wields an instrument, who, by observation of the notes on the page and an awareness of the great artists original realization might relive it. Consequently, there is a potential for artists of a tertiary who observe the music and through their awareness may, experience and appreciate – or rather realize – though to a lesser degree, the realizations of the first two. Thus everyone is a perpetual artist. My quality of life has come in part through this awareness – that I too am an artist.

The artist is the fisherman. The fly and how the fisherman presents it reflect his understanding of the world. His artistic ability is summed in his success to produce ‘the rise,’ or that moment of inspiration. If during that time between the rise and the net he doesn’t break the connection, he’ll land reality. It will never be as real to anyone else as it is to him. He can mount it on a wall but that kind of ‘art’ is a pale shadow of the real thing. Art lies in the journey – the journey, in the moment – the moment, outside of time.

He bleeds red...

...For a few more months, at least!

Nate just walked at spring graduation from the University of Utah. Congrats to him! He will officially graduate in August with his undergraduate degree in mathematics. Then on to BYU (go Cougars!) for a master's in statistics. Our poor children are going to be nerds!

Welcome to our blog!

Okay, so I've given in and started a blog. Oh my goodness, what are things coming to?

I hope you enjoy the random musings that will be posted here from time to time!