Over the River. . .

As we drove to Twin Falls for our traditional Thanksgiving feast this year, I started thinking about how many times I have driven that road. Innumerable. I can't even begin to guess. I lived in Provo for two years before I went on my mission--I drove to Idaho many weekends and all holidays available. After my mission I lived in Salt Lake for another two years before I got married. Same deal. I don't think I can even count how many friends I took with me. My parents were always gracious to let me bring my friends to spend a weekend--male and female. Now I've been married for almost 23 years. I must admit that since the kids are here and older, we probably don't go as many weekends as we used to, but we still go for several holidays: Presidents' Day in February, sometimes Mom's birthday in March, Memorial Day in May, once or twice in the summer, Labor Day in September, Thanksgiving in November. That's about seven times a year. Our horse knows the way for sure.

Dante and Jake were in school on Wednesday--Jake had his Thanksgiving Feast that afternoon so we certainly couldn't leave early. Dante's was on Tuesday. Dante's was great--all the kids were assigned different items and they just shared--just like the Pilgrims and the Indians. Then they played this silly turkey feather game. They had feathers (the construction paper kind) and two people played at the same time. They each choose two feathers, hide them behind their backs and have to try and see (name) the feather colors of their opponent. It's pretty goofy--they actually look like turkeys because they are arching their backs trying to keep their own feathers hidden while discovering the color of the other person's feathers and dancing all around. Dante challenged me--he thought he'd whoop his mom. Ha! I had him beat in no time.

Jake's feast was a little different. Taylor, Moni and I picked up a fully cooked turkey from a grocery store and took it back to the school. Of course it leaked turkey juice all over the car seat. Hm. That was the seat Simona had chosen for the ride to Idaho. We soaked up as much juice as we could with school paper towels--not very absorbent. She sat on a towel and smelled like a turkey. Anyway, we helped divide the turkey between three 2nd grade classes. The kids brought other items to share. It was so fun. Jake's teacher had the kids make paper pilgrim hats and collars. They looked great. She also plays the piano, so the kids were singing their Thanksgiving songs while they ate. It was great fun. It was funny to see the kids in the class and their reaction to Taylor. He has been helping in the class on Thursday after he gets out of school, so they know him. They love him! They totally surrounded him and joked with him. They thought it was so funny to put their hats on his head, especially the girls. He just plays along. Younger kids have always been drawn to him.

So as soon as we got home, we quickly packed the car and . . . waited. Corky wasn't quite ready to go. When he called, we hopped in the car and hoped for the best. We've had some car troubles but thought everything was taken care of. Our wonderful mechanic neighbor Wally was on the ball. We have a belt that keeps slipping off, but I prayed that belt would stay put. Our tradition is to pick up Corky and then get a hamburger on the way out of town. It was getting a little late, so we opted to get out of the traffic and down the road a little before stopping. Jake wasn't totally thrilled with that option, but he survived. He's a hamburger boy. I think he'd bleed burger blood.

We decided to pull off at Tremonton to get our burger--we've done that before, but in the dark we took the first exit and couldn't find a burger place. We did see a road that went to the left and both Corky and I decided that it would probably eventually lead to our destination, which is more like a truck stop with several burger choices. Wow--I'm so glad we took that exit. We got to drive right through downtown Tremonton. I don't know that I've even been there before. In all my trips to Idaho, I never went through Tremonton, why would I? Quoting Planes, Trains and Automobiles when Doobie says, "All you see on the Interstate is Interstate," he's right. I've always driven right by this darling little town. The main street reminded Corky of what Twin Falls' main street used to look like. There were great stores, lit up for the holidays. There was a King's "dime store" as my mom used to call it. I wanted to stop and walk through the town. I can't wait to make that mistake again, only the next time it will be intentional. Simona decided she liked it enough to live there. Jake said--okay, I'll live there too and we'll be neighbors and sisters! It took him a minute to correct that statement.

I started looking out the window--actually on the way home since it was pitch black on the way there, but for our purposes here, we can pretend it was on the way to Grandma's house. I love looking at all the fields, in every season. In the spring they are plowed and planted, but if you hit it on the right day, they are also flooded. Grandpa says the farmers love to have as much water on those new seeds as possible to help them sprout. In the middle of the summer, I love driving by each field to see what is in it. I know it's Idaho, but there really aren't that many potato fields where we go. They have quite a few potato fields closer to Idaho Falls (my uncle Rone is a real live Idaho potato farmer), and closer to Twin Falls they have potato fields in a little town called Murtaugh. (The kids from Murtaugh I knew put the accent on Murt-totally holding it out. Well, they were the farmer kids, but we loved it when they would come to the church dances in Twin Falls--they had cute boys. Problem was, they always said, oh, I have a cow named Sally. Yeah. Thanks.)

The fields I can name are beets, corn, alfalfa, peas, grain (wheat), beans, and I can't think of any more. There is a sugar beet factory in Twin and there are some places where they come up with new varieties of beans, etc. A lot of the crops in Twin Falls are used for seed. I didn't know that while I lived there. Had to move away to find that out.

I live here in a valley--mountains all around me. I love the mountains, Wasatch on one side and Oquirrh on the other. But I also love the flat flat of the landscape going to Grandma's. You can see forever. At certain places in the trip, there are some small mountains, and their peaks and valleys are very familiar and comforting to me. But the flat scenery of home has a special place in my heart. I remember standing out in the back yard watching the sun go down. It took a long time. This weekend, however, Corky called me out to the back yard and we could see Angel Moroni on the Twin Falls Temple. That was so cool. What a blessing a temple in Twin Falls is. There are houses overtaking the fields around Grandma's and Grandpa's house and soon I probably won't be able to see Moroni, but he's there now.

In fact, my canal where I used to hunt asparagus with Tad Haney is gone. Tad was cute and I loved asparagus. What could be better--walking up and down a long field with a cute boy finding good food? I remember sleepovers (only we called them slumber parties) in my back yard--not with Tad. With the girls my age. There were ten girls and two boys. Tad Haney, Eric Jacobsen--me, Kathy Evans, Kathy Jones, Darla Thompson, Kayleen Galley, Lori Christensen, Jeni Christensen, Kelly Miller, Jill Gerdes, and somebody else. I remember one night we slept out in the front yard, which was strange because it seemed like it was generally in the back. Anyway, I remember we had gone to sleep and all woke up at the same time and there was a meteor shower. I have thought about that all these years, and then started to wonder if maybe I'd made it up. A few years ago I ran into Lori Christensen and she said--do you remember that time when we were sleeping at your house and there was the meteor shower? I was so happy. It was a real memory!

I am thankful for the home where I grew up. I am thankful for the yard and the fields where I played. I am happy to be an Idaho Spud. I love planting seeds and seeing things grow. I'm glad my parents planted a huge garden and I got to taste of the wonderful food grown from the earth, from our own garden. I'm glad my dad was so generous that he planted much more than we needed and gave away many vegetables to neighbors. I'm glad my mom was industrious and taught me to can fruits and vegetables. I still carry on that tradition--I always think of the scripture that says "I shall lay up the fruit against the season unto mine own self." Makes me think maybe I'm actually doing something for my family, something I should do.

My kids and I planted squash for Grandma this spring. In the summer I saw some of the plants growing with vigor, all over the yard and up into the lilac tree. I saw about 6-7 large Hubbard squashes. When Ron helped Mom harvest them, there were 16--4 plants each bearing 4 squashes. One was a monster. Mother saved it for us, but it wouldn't even fit in the car--I would have had to leave a child. (But who?) We brought home a smaller one, which was still very large. I didn't think to take a picture of the giant feller, but it was at least three times larger than the "regular" guy.

Thanksgiving was good. I cooked. I made great rolls. Ron and Sharalee and Alan came, and Sharalee was surprised to know that I made the rolls and not Grandma, as well as the dressing. I guess she hasn't paid much attention over the last several years, because I've cooked the meal for quite a while now. Well, Grandma probably still did the rolls, but I did them this time. I've been practicing. We had three bags left over--they were gone by the next night. My kids chow down rolls.

I'm glad I was there with my mom and dad and my husband and my kids. These are the people I love best. It was a thankful day.

Funny, we didn't watch a single football game. I didn't even notice until the day was done. Bummer.