Disclaimer: I am a layperson. I am not a pastor, nor a pastor’s daughter, sister, or wife. I never attended seminary or studied religion. As such, the following discourse should be read from a layperson’s perspective.

As one who tends to form strong biases without even reading anything, I am not the best person to write balanced, fair reviews. But even before my small group began reading Love Wins, I knew it would be a difficult issue for me, one about which I felt compelled to write. I am not here to bash Mr. Bell’s latest best-seller, but rather to caution you, if you choose to read it, against taking it all to heart.

Upon finishing Chapter 1, “What about the flat tire?”, I was right where Rob wanted me: thinking and fuming (maybe he didn’t intend the fuming part; nevertheless I was). What god is he writing about? He must be mighty small to let a missionary’s flat tire keep His gospel from reaching all peoples! I say he had me where he wanted me because this was his intention, it seems: to get me to ask questions. So ask I did—Rob, what are you doing?

Throughout his book, Rob Bell cites Scripture to support the uncertainties behind his questions. There is danger in this, because 1) not everyone who reads this book will be familiar with the passages he paraphrases, 2) those who do recognize the passages may not know their context, and 3) in cherry picking some passages over others, one can very easily arrive at misguided conclusions, however well-intentioned.

So, what do I have to say about these? Read on…

• First: Not every reader has a background steeped in the knowledge of Scripture. I was blessed to grow up in a household that valued the Bible, and I have memorized several passages and read the entire Bible at least twice. So whenever Bell quotes a passage, I have at least a general idea of where it comes from and what else the passage says. All that aside, I still should have done again what I’m about to suggest: read the whole Bible before you read this book. And if you’ve read it all before, give it another cursory look. There’s a reason Bell’s church attracts crowds of over eleven thousand: he is a great speaker. I’ve seen a couple of his Nooma videos (those twenty-minute mini-sermons that are so popular) and he can draw you into whatever he’s saying and have you nodding in agreement in no time. I don’t mind that—he makes some great points and asks challenging questions—but he is not God. His words aren’t necessarily God-breathed and “profitable for teaching, reproof, correction, and training in righteousness.” Consequently, you must know what the Scriptures say before you can know if Bell is being faithful to them.
• Second: Not every reader is a Biblical or historical scholar. (In other words, “Rob, I appreciate all the quotes and such, but for the love of humanity WHERE ARE YOUR FOOTNOTES?!”) Rob Bell seems to have done his research; after all, he sprinkles quotation marks almost as generously as he does the paragraph breaks. My problem with it is I want to know more. As I mentioned, I’m no star student when it comes to the Bible, and to facilitate my understanding I need to know where Bell is getting his material. Did he just make up this whole thing from his imagination? No, others have been asking the same questions he’s posing for years. But do you see my point? So my second encouragement to you is to look up the passages cited, check out the books he lists on the last page. See where his ideas are coming from.
• Third: By clinging to some Scriptures and ignoring others, we distort the overall message. For example (not in the book), you can’t just say “all sins will be forgiven” (Mk 3:28) and leave out “but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit never has forgiveness” (Mk 3:29). It doesn’t work that way. The thing that frustrates me most about this book is that Rob seems to be trying to make it work that way. Might be the biases talking, but might not. Now, what you will find in Love Wins is that Rob never comes right out and says anything; he asks clever questions and implies his answer.

Ultimately, he leaves the tension still sharp in the air over this question of “Does everybody get to heaven?” You are free to leave it unanswered, as he (sort of) does. In fact, I encourage it. Why? Because I don’t know that Scripture fully answers it. Some mysteries are best left un”solved”–such as the date of Jesus’ return, the exact circumstances surrounding the “new heavens and new earth,” etc. My last caution is to test everything against the Scriptures. All of them, not just your favorites. And if all you find is ambiguity, then let that be your position. Please, I beg you, don’t go trying to fill all the intentional gaps in Scripture with your own reasoning. I don’t doubt God is powerful enough to do anything, but I’m not going to hold Him to my version of His story, either.

It would seem that I’m ready to have a Rob Bell bookburning here and now. But I’m not. In fact, I agree with many of his statements concerning social justice and the appropriateness of longing for all things to be reconciled to God. But Love Wins is not the Bible. I’ll stick to that Book for my source of Truth. As my small group leader commented during one of our discussions, “I like the conclusions I’m drawing from this book [Love Wins]. I just don’t know that Rob Bell is arriving at the same ones.”

It began last Thursday with the ultrasound. Baby was already nearly 8 pounds and still two weeks away from his due date, so J and C decided to go to the hospital Monday night for induced labor. I received a text from Beloved right after class: “Call when you can. Baby!” and knew exactly what he meant. We made the trek up to Nashville that night and stayed at their house as they prepared for labor.

Yesterday began as early as 4:00, when our alarm went off and we called Beloved’s mom to find nothing had happened yet. Arrived at the hospital around 6:00 and spent the next 16 hours waiting. I was anxious during that time; anxious for C’s labor pains, anxious to meet Baby, anxious to be there for my sweet sister-in-law. There were many times we thought it was Time, but progress kept slowing as the day wore on.

We found ways to pass the day. Only five visitors could be in C’s room at once, so we took turns sprawling across the chairs in the waiting room. Met a couple other families, also waiting on their babies, and swapped progress updates over cafeteria food and vending machine snacks. Watched more television than I’ve seen in the last month. Napped in the car. One family bought a couple dozen Krispy Kreme doughnuts and shared them with us. It was fun, all that anticipation and excitement. For our family, this baby would be the first grandchild, great-grandchild, and first nephew.

Beloved and I were in C’s room when they decided to be done with the labor and have a C-section. J was so precious, sitting at C’s bedside and holding her hand as they made the final call. I could barely contain myself! Here we were, within an hour of meeting Baby, and two of the ones privileged to witness the evening’s turning point! But we couldn’t hoard the moment, much as we wanted to. So we surrendered our wristbands to J’s parents so they and C’s mom and dad could be in the delivery room to greet their grandchild.

You can blame hormones all you want, but I will still insist it was Joy that brought me to tears when Baby finally arrived. While C certainly did all the hard work, the rest of us felt our invested emotions spill out into the room and wash it in love. Beloved and I ran to her room the minute they let us. When we entered and I saw J in the rocking chair holding his son, I knew I could do nothing but love. And when J let us hold him… happiest time of my day!

my beloved, putty in baby's wee hands

clearly, I'm smitten

I’ve been showing off these pictures all day to my classmates. It doesn’t matter to me that I went two days without showering and wore the same clothes today as yesterday. I didn’t feel under-dressed at all, even beside the other ladies in the waiting room who managed to stay all gussied up. I am simply grateful to have been present for the birth of my very own nephew. He’s already captured my heart, that’s for sure!

Some days I feel like those poor people on the Bing search engine commercials. You know, the ones who are suffering from “search overload”. Their speech reminds me of word salad, nonsense mixed with loosely related terms. Take that, put it in my head, and that’s where I’ve been lately. My main job (outside of wifehood) is to be a student, which necessitates long hours of studying one subject at a time. However, unless the test is within the next two days, I rarely am able to focus for more than half an hour. What makes it worse is when I can think of a hundred and one other things to be doing, most of which involve computer access.

And there is my downfall.

The Internet creates an environment in which I can follow every little rabbit trail back to its hole, fall down the hole, and get lost in a Wonderland of the written word. The cycle goes through Facebook, WordPress’s Freshly Pressed, my friends’ blogs, email, and updating my and Beloved’s budget. Then it begins again. I don’t know what I expect to find new or different in the quarter-hour it takes to complete one round. Maybe I am just avoiding my work.

It doesn’t matter. The bottom line is I spend waste too much time mindlessly consuming empty calories. Yes, I do keep up with friends on Facebook and blogging sites, but it’s more of a voyeuristic relationship than an interactive one (that is to say, my friends are important, and while it is nice to see their public updates, I could find much better ways and times to catch up with them). Yes, e-mail does bring me information about school, but most of the messages I receive are inapplicable to me and promptly deleted. Yes, the budget is important to maintain, but it really doesn’t require much except the monthly bank statement reconciliation.

So, partially for my mental health (and partially to save on our power bill), we unplugged our apartment. Television, gaming system, computer, off. This makes it more inconvenient to waste my time on these things, and also causes me to schedule blocks of “productive technology time”. Tuesday, for example, was a study day. I turned on Pandora Radio on my phone (for background noise and preventing unnecessary use) and accomplished much more than usual: three to four hours of studying, broken up by thirty-minute intervals of housework. It is easier to make good things happen when you remove the possibility of the worst distractions.

That being said, the next area to tackle is my free time at school: how do I use it judiciously? How do I keep from eating up my evenings with things that should have been done during the day?

Many, many things have been happening and I cannot keep straight the various banalities I’ve thought about posting. So let’s go with my Facebook statuses, explained:

December 9, 2010: …is not going to make any excuses for that test. Fact is, I didn’t study enough. Oh well, I probably got an acceptable grade. The second sentence describes me most of the time during school. I find that, when combined with the loads of a part-time job and full-time wifehood, school tends to take a backseat. I know this isn’t good of me since I need to know everything I’m being tested on (maybe), but I also am trying to find balance. School is important, but not as important as my marriage. Trying to return to that mindset.

December 12, 2010: …is chilling at the dad-in-law’s place with a lapful of Jack and Russell… can you guess what breed they are?  Another change has come about in my father-in-law’s life. He remarried in November. The idea was strange for me at first because I’ve never been this close to someone who divorced and remarried… but I’ve decided it’s okay. His wife is an animal lover (works for a veternarian) and has four spring-loaded furry children (all Jack Russells). The house has been rearranged, which still gets me every time we visit them, but all in all I am adjusting. The fact that D. is a very sweet lady definitely helps.

December 16, 2010: …See this? Tonight’s dinner! Hooray for veggie soup and cornbread on a chilly evening! (I feel human again) Cooking soothes me somewhat. I find that in doing something productive toward the good of our health builds my morale and motivates me for the other tasks I have. The vegetable soup was the first truly home-made meal I had cooked in over a week (blast you, finals!) so it was a welcome respite from frozen leftovers. Plus, it tasted absolutely heavenly. If only I could remember what was in it.

January 4, 2011: Sally came into our lives about eleven years ago as a stray. Saturday we had to put her down, and we lost a family member. She wasn’t just a mutt–she was a treasure. Beloved and I both suffered tragic losses within that month. Just a few weeks prior to this post, he found out his cat had died suddenly one night. My dog was run over and had too many internal injuries to justify surgery. We both went through times of grieving, but the nice thing was that we had each other for comfort. That, and my grandparents got a new puppy soon after to ease the pain of losing their grand-dog. She’s precious.

January 15, 2011: loves being at home with her hubby So grateful for the weekend! All too often we live together, but separated by to-do lists. Beloved comes home from work, we eat dinner, then I leave him to do dishes and amuse himself while I hole myself up in the office and study. Every few days or so we have to purposefully set aside our work (which never ends) and just enjoy one another. I believe this is vital in a marriage, because while there is always work to do, your spouse is not always available for quality time. So please, take the night off now and then! It does wonders for your sanity.

February 14, 2011: …just made a delightful chocolate mousse for tonight’s dessert. Unfortunately, the taste testing thereof has me on a slight sugar high… While we definitely keep an eye on our diet in terms of portion sizes and balanced content, desserts are definitely around. It seems it’s been that way chronically since October when Beloved’s grandparents sent us a bag of candy for trick-or-treaters who never showed up. Since then there’s been peanut brittle, chocolate-covered cashews, apple pie, banana bread, Jell-O “fluff” pie, and now Girl Scout Cookies. Okay, now I’ve convinced myself–we need to start walking in the evenings again, and soon!

February 17, 2011: …Nothing like Tchaikovsky to distract me from frenetic classmates for the last 10 minutes before an exam I don’t like being around others’ stress. If it’s surrounding an activity we have in common (i.e., an exam), I’d prefer to cope with it my own way. Rather than feeding off the negativity around me, I pull out the noise-cancelling earbuds, start some music (loving my George Winston station on Pandora Radio!) and get to work. I may seem rude to some for answering their questions bluntly, but really, these last-minute cram sessions leave no time to waste. In fact, once I finish this post I should probably go start one for my 1:00 test.

February 22, 2011: …and Beloved have a new(er) car! Hooray for 45 mpg! Since he drives nearly 200 miles daily to and from work, we decided a more fuel-efficient vehicle was in order. Over the weekend we spotted just what we were looking for at a dealership in Knoxville, TN: a 2001 Volkswagen Jetta, 5-speed, runs on diesel fuel. Since Beloved drove it home on Monday, it’s been over 500 miles and might need a fill-up today or tomorrow. Hooray!

And now, I have to go continue with my schoolwork. It’s a vicious cycle, but one of these day’s I’ll escape it!

Sixty-nine years ago today, on December 7, 1941—a date which still lives in infamy—”the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan.” (from President Roosevelt’s speech to Congress requesting a declaration of war)

Sixty-nine years ago, my grandfather answered the call to arms, leaving his young bride in order to defend his beloved country from her enemies.

Sixty-nine years later, on December 7, 2010, he is still my family’s very own hero. We love you, Papa!

"To my darling-- Love, Ezra"

 Who is your hero? What is his/her story?

Striking out on our own was one of the best things Beloved and I could have done for our marriage. It lessened the constant (loving) pressure from both our families and gave us a new setting in which to grow. By moving off to a town where nobody knew our names, we began learning to keep our own household in our own peculiar way. We have found a church to join ourselves to, and the community there has shown us nothing but love and support. I have become comfortable with my new job and am working on establishing camaraderie with my coworkers, and Beloved has developed friendships at his workplace. The Winn Dixie employees even know us on sight now (I’m that lady who always has a coupon for Coffee Mate flavored creamer).

But there is a part of me that yearns for the old and familiar things. This weekend we were back in our hometown to celebrate my mom’s birthday, attend a wedding, and visit with Beloved’s dad and his new wife. Seeing all those beautiful faces in the span of two days brought on a severe bout of homesickness. I miss dearly the fellowship of our Christian brothers and sisters there. I am sad that we don’t live closer to  our siblings to share in their lives. I regret that school brings me even this far from my aging grandparents, because time with them is precious to me.

And yet I know that season of my life is gone. I am a married woman now, fully committed to my husband and our life together. I cannot forget the joys of growing up, but I will never have that particular time to live again. While I do loathe my general ineptitude at keeping in contact with old friends, I am thrilled that God has brought me new relationships to nourish. When I wake up each morning beside my Beloved in our cozy nook, I don’t weep for the changes taking place. Instead I roll over and hide under the pillow as if I’d been doing this for ages. Then I get up and cook our breakfast. Because, you see, the new things have quickly became familiar to me.

I am happy. Here. Now.

Yesterday was our third monthiversary, already! We’ve spent the time settling into our cozy apartment, adjusting to a new schedule, exploring the culinary arts, and finding our niche in this community. Details follow.

The apartment: It is truly a lovely residence. Thanks to our wonderfully generous friends and relatives, our home is fully furnished and decorated to our liking. We are a bit proud of the fact that it looks so well-done and yet is still  so inviting. This weekend we hosted a few of my classmates for a kabob party, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world to pull a stack of plates from the cabinet and line up the glasses on the breakfast bar. And thanks to the habits we’ve begun to cultivate in this short time, cleanup was a breeze. Rinse the dishes, load the dishwasher, take out the trash, and done. No space is unaccounted for: the office is fully functional as a study and hobby cloister, the living room is our daytime nesting area for movie-watching and game-playing, and the bedroom/walk-through closet/bathroom complex feels safe and personal…and ours. It feels as though we’ve always been here!

The schedule: Mornings were, at first, a big challenge for me. Getting up at 4:45 AM every weekday? Not easy to do in the summertime when I didn’t have any morning responsibilities other than ensuring Beloved’s timely departure for work. But they became easier once I realized how much work goes into keeping up a home. Weekly laundry, daily dishes, budget balancing…these kept me occupied for a few weeks until even they became a part of the routine. Now that school has begun again, my days are much more hectic but my mornings are also more manageable. Instead of wondering what’s next, I have a definite time frame which gets me to school around 7:20 every morning (in time for the good parking!). Sure, there’s still work and less time to myself, but there’s less of knitting-myself-into-a-coma-on-the-couch and more of go-go-go-there’s-work-to-do motivation. (however, there’s a knitting project that  needs to be done before the cold weather sets in–hoping to find time for that soon!)

The menu: I’ve only cooked “repeats” a handful of times so far. Not because my cooking is awful, but because of the sheer volume of cookbooks I now own! Due in part to our healthy choices and in part to our control of portion sizes, my sweet Beloved has surpassed his initial weight loss goal and is now about twenty pounds lighter than on our wedding day! Huzzah for him! A classmate of mine has dubbed my lunches “married people’s food”, which makes me smile inside and out. We’re married folks making married-type meals in our little married-folks’ home.

The niche: Still in the making. We’ve been introduced to a community of like-minded believers downtown, and they sure know how to love on people! Our first day, we met several people who not only recognized us the following Sunday but even called us by name and hugged us like old friends! So far we have been attending  for  a month and have also gone to one of their small groups since it began two weeks ago. This church is like nothing I’ve experienced before. Rather than devoting their energies to “doing church”, they focus more on being the church, being the body of Christ, His hands and feet, and taking His message to everyone. We certainly enjoy the fellowship and the friendships that have come to us through this place, and it is our prayer that we find this to be the place God has for us, at least for now.

The hour is five in the afternoon; laundry and dinner call. Later, dear readers!

Yes. I am domestic; I am devoted to home life with my husband. I get up before the sun to fix our breakfasts and ensure he leaves for work on time. I make the apartment tidy and livable when I’m not at work (any amount of clutter in a small space makes it nigh unusable), and I keep nutritious meals on the table at dinnertime. Sounds like I’ve stepped more into the role of housemaid than wife, doesn’t it?

Well, here’s the difference: I do these things because I love my Beloved. I cook breakfast each morning because by eating with him I get to spend precious time with him before the world is awake. I clean, wash dishes, and do laundry to keep our days simple so we can spend our evenings relaxing with each other. I prepare meals mostly from scratch, using as much fresh produce and lean meat as I can, because his family is plagued with cholesterol and blood glucose issues and I want to keep him healthy any way I can.

A coworker asked me a few weeks ago, “Well, what does he do for you?” Reader, it doesn’t work that way. We don’t live quid pro quo. My repayment is simply the satisfaction of spilling my joy into his life.

That is all. Just  a thought.

• I am married to my best friend.
• I am not dreaming.
• He has an excellent job with which he can support our little household.
• We live in a comfortable apartment in a friendly neighborhood.
• We have several kind and generous friends and relatives who helped us get started.
• We are together, forever.
• I am not dreaming.

Not to mention my upstairs neighbor just accepted my dinner invitation and my name has officially been changed to go with my husband’s. Not to mention that my high school friend who was diagnosed with one of the most aggressive forms of lymphoma is now enjoying her summer at home after finishing four rounds of chemo. Not to mention that my own dear husband, just last night, dropped everything and coaxed me out of my monthly irritable mood so that I didn’t even remember it this morning. So what am I supposed to say when my mother calls me and asks how I’m doing? What face can I present that is not overwhelmed with joy and gratitude? How should I behave myself, now that the weight of anticipation has been replaced with the journey of a lifetime?

And why can’t I stop smiling?

(For the original post, click here.)

(Warning: this is a really long entry, so I hope you have the time to read it!)

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The wedding went off with only one hitch—and that was ours. It was a whirlwind! We don’t remember all of it. But we do know it happened, and there are plenty of photographs and videos which bear witness to the fact.

Sunday we took it easy, sleeping in until nearly nine and then packing for our trip. Check-in at the airport was uneventful, so we sat at the gate for over an hour before boarding. During that time, the airline employee on-duty called Evan over to the counter… and bumped us up to first class! So we were in the very front two seats with lots of leg room and a friendly lady across the aisle… but only for an hour. Our plane experienced some mechanical difficulties and so the pilots landed us in Memphis. We thought it would only be a few minutes getting fixed, but we stayed at gate C20 for about three hours! At one point we had everything sorted out—as soon as the test flight was finished, we would fly to Denver and spend the night there, arriving in Jackson Hole the next morning. However, when the test flight yielded no answers (canceling our flight) Evan dashed back to the counter to get us another hotel voucher for the night. This time, we would be staying at the Radisson Hotel nearby and flying to Denver the following morning with a connecting flight to Jackson Hole.

The Radisson was plush—in-house restaurant, Sleep Number bed (king size), free shuttle to the airport…we definitely liked it. Not bad, since we couldn’t do anything else.

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Breakfasted at the Radisson on Monday morning with bleary eyes and little energy. Once again, checking in at the airport went smoothly, and we boarded the plane on time. Our seats were separate, but as long as we got to Denver we didn’t care. Upon taxiing to the runway, though, we were met with another delay—a maintenance panel was open and we had to return to the terminal. Not only that, but before we even left the fuel truck mistakenly tried to top off our tank instead of the one at the next gate! Other than that, we took off with no incidents and began our journey afresh.

A little over 30 minutes outside of Denver. I have read both the SkyWest magazine and the Sky Mall catalogue, and I can hear Evan speaking with the woman next to him who is holding a baby. Earlier she walked the child up the aisle for a change of scenery and on her way back told me, “Your husband is very patient.” This is a short flight but I am impatient to be with him again. Not long now—and for our connecting flight to Jackson we have seats next to each other. On this plane are several of the same unfortunates who joined us on our hop from Birmingham to Memphis. Kind of reminds me of LOST, in a way. Except so far we haven’t crashed on an island.

Smooth landing, but not without a mad dash to the opposite end of the Denver airport. We disembarked at Gate 92 and only had 20 minutes before our connection took off from Gate 29. Thank goodness for those moving sidewalks, or we never would have made it on time. But we got there and got our seats! Except our luggage didn’t. So we planned to file a claim and hoped it would arrive that day.

The flight to Jackson on the 747 was nice, except for the slight bit of motion sickness I had near the beginning. But after a can of Sprite, I felt much better. We watched an episode of 30 Rock, listened to some music, and sat glued to the window for our final descent. Mountains all around, and with snow on them! To see such a sight in the summer is a drastic diversion from the smothering Alabama heat.

Our hotel is quite plush and cozy. We have a room with a king-sized bed, Jacuzzi, sitting area, and gas fireplace. It’s a shame we didn’t arrive sooner. We drove up to Teton Village to ride the tram up to the peak of Rendezvous Mountain. What a sight! One hundred eighty degree view of snow-capped peaks! We had quite a time trying to cling to the bald ridge because of a chilling west wind. Hiking a little way down the loose rocks was okay, but we wore ourselves our climbing back to the top. At least by that time we were good and ready for dinner.

There was a restaurant next to the inn that served some wild game dishes, so we walked over there after returning from the Tetons. Dinner was outstanding! We ordered a plate of fried green tomatoes and an entree of mixed game—buffalo prime rib, elk chops, and venison bratwurst. Best meat we’d ever tasted! By then we were really tired, so we called it a night.

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Tuesday’s breakfast was in the hotel lobby and was greatly enhanced by our leftover meat from dinner. Back in the room we planned out our day and then checked out around ten o’clock. Drove into town, parked by the square, and happened upon a historical downtown tour which gave us lots of neat information (for instance, did you know that at one time Jackson’s town council was made up entirely of women, and that a female sheriff was the catalyst in cleaning up the center of town and making a town square? Didn’t think so.). After that, we walked around on our own and found a cute little hotel. So on a whim we booked a room for Saturday night and canceled our reservation at the Wyoming Inn. For lunch we ate at the Million-Dollar Cowboy Bar, where the barstools were saddles and the tabletops were fashioned from cross-sections of giant hardwood trees.

Then it was park time! The scenery was spectacular on our drive in from the south entrance of Yellowstone. We stopped several times to take pictures and video of the surroundings and their inhabitants. The last big stop was at the Mud Volcano area where we saw several hot sulfur springs and bubbling mud puddles. Once we arrived at Canyon Lodge, our board for the next two nights, we ate dinner and planned the next day’s activities.

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Wednesday was full and exciting. Ate breakfast in the room from provisions we bought Tuesday night at the general store. Then we dressed for hiking, picked up our picnic lunches from the dining room, and headed over to the trails on the south rim of Yellowstone’s Grand Canyon. We hiked the Clear Lake trail through meadows and woods and were rewarded with our very own buffalo sighting! As we admired a bubbling thermal vent, a huge lump of the background scenery rolled itself onto its feet and stood up. It was massive! We froze for a second, not sure whether to stay put, run away, or proceed down the trail. But it lay back down and turned a drowsy eye toward us, so we cautiously passed by (it was only five yards away) and continued onward. After what seemed no time, we emerged on the canyon’s south rim and enjoyed spectacular views all the way back to the car. We met an older couple from Austria and saw them a few times on our stop-and-go trek. It was his fourth time in the US as a tourist. Once we parted ways, Evan and I trudged back to the parking lot where we scarfed down our lunches and drove to the lodge for a nap.

We took a lengthy drive that afternoon up and out the northeast gate to the park. I was reminded of my family’s trip into the park by that same road when we pulled our camper between the soaring bluffs and sheer dropoffs. Once out the gate, we drove through Cooke City befor turning onto the Chief Joseph Scenic Highway—and boy, was it ever! The road took us around a lush valley and then the rims of the surrounding mountains. Different landscapes entirely, and differently beautiful. The only trees were down in the valleys by streams; and they were nearly all deciduous as opposed to the conifers which cover Yellowstone. The rest of the landscape consisted of low scrub and grass, with the occasional stunted evergreen on a hillside.

We stopped in Cody, Wyoming for dinner at Zapata’s a New Mexico-style Mexican restaurant. Evan ate the green chili and I had the 1880-style chile relleno. They stuffed the pepper with cheese, scrambled an egg in it, and folded it into an omelet. Delicious! So then we picked up dessert at the candy shop next door and began our trek back to the park. This road took us through the Buffalo Bill national park, through tunnels and past a huge water reservoir. We made a brief stop in Wapiti for gas (our rental car got 37 mpg!) and continued westward. It was certainly a feast for the eyes as we saw snowy peaks adjacent to wooded ones. At one point we rounded a shoulder and were nearly blinded by the sunset. It looked just like the quintessential ending to an adventurous day out West… which it was.

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Thursday we did—guess what—more sightseeing! Checked out of Canyon Lodge and headed north to Mammoth Hot Springs via Tower-Roosevelt. The oncoming lane near Mt. Washburn was partially blocked by a buffalo leading a short parade of cars. On we went, stopping here and there for photographs, until we reached the springs. Many of the terraces were dormant, but a select few were colorfully active. After leaving there, we drove on down to Norris with a couple of stopps: Obsidian Cliff and Roaring Mountain. Unfortunately, we couldn’t see much obsidian due to the previous scavengers, and the roar was more like a bubbling. But we did end up in a line of cars behind—guess what—a buffalo.

Next stop was the Norris geyser basin. There were so many colorful springs and streams! Most notable were the Whirligig Geyser and the green-and-yellow stream emanating from its pool. Further downstream as the water cooled, the green gradually faded, leaving only the pale yellow thermophiles. We hoped to see Steamboat Geyser erupt (the largest geyser in the world, I think), but it just spewed a bit. It may be huge, but its last major eruption was in May of 2005. Both tired, we decided to skip the bookstore and resume our journey to Old Faithful. Between Norris and Madison there was road construction, so we sat there for around twenty minutes waiting to be flagged through.

Upon arriving at Old Faithful Inn, we checked into our suite and went upstairs. How luxurious! Two queen beds, gorgeous tiled bathroom, sitting room (with a Keurig coffee maker, stocked refrigerator, and sack of yummy snacks—all complimentary), and an easy view of Old Faithful itself. After a brief rest, we took a hike around the geyser basin. One geyser I’d never heard of before, the Grand, had a crowd sitting around it waiting for its eruption. The sign said it was the world’s largest predictable geyser, so we sat there too. But it kept sitting there not doing anything, so we moved on through the park. Saw several interesting formations and pretty pools, and finally made it to Morning Glory Pool just before rain droplets began to fall. That and the swift tailwind propelled us along the mile of trail back to the Inn. We were just in time to clean up and get dressed for our dinner reservation. Evan escorted me downstairs and we were seated next to a window with a view of our wing of the inn (the newer one, built in 1913). Dinner was delicious! Evan ate the trout and I had the “pork osso buco” which was a pork shank the size of a small roast! I took half of it to go. By then it was past nine, so we went on to bed.

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Friday morning we drove back to the Lake area on the West Thumb for a scenic cruise. Beautiful scenery, and aside from the Lake Hotel and Lodge, the shoreline appeared completely untouched. Our guide, Bruce, told us several interesting stories from the lake’s past (some of which were true), and the hour-long tour was over before we realized it. We drove over to the general store Bruce pointed out earlier and found some lovely souvenirs: a bottle of Yellowstone label elderberry mead and some Yellowstone huckleberry syrup. We wanted a puzzle, but none of the ones there were distinctively of the park. So we thought about getting a jigsaw made out of one of our photos. From there we just took a (mostly nonstop) drive back to Old Faithful Inn via Canyon, Norris and Madison.

Just before reaching our destination, we pulled off to drive past Firehole Lake. It was fairly impressive: an entire small lake simmering and steaming! But the best part about it was when we stopped to stretch our legs at Surprise Pool. As we stepped up to it, we heard an “aOOga” over to our left, and (surprise!) up drove five Model A Fords! They were from the Pony Express Association (or something like that) and I guess they were taking an old-time tour of the park!

We got back to the Inn and decided to take off to Grand Geyser, but it was definitely not erupting anytime soon. So we headed back and watched Old Faithful from a distance before returning to our room and working the crossword puzzle in the USA Today. Eventually we figured we’d eat some supper and go to the bar. But it was still early-ish in the evening when we finished that, so for lack of anything else to do we bought a puzzle from the gift store and put together as much as we could before we got too tired.

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Saturday we woke up with the alarm clock at 5:30 AM to go driving in search of wildlife. It took us long enough, but eventually we reached Hayden Valley and were met by a herd of buffalo cows with their calves! There must have been at least thirty calves there, and they didn’t mind us one bit. One of them jogged right up to our car and sniffed at the headlights before darting off to follow its mother! It was a really beautiful sight. But eventually the bovine parade was over, so we drove on to Canyon Lodge for breakfast.

Once we returned to Old Faithful Inn, we learned that the Grand Geyser wasn’t expected to erupt until around 3:30 that afternoon. We didn’t really want to wait that long to leave, so we packed up and headed south back to Jackson. And that’s when I knew something wasn’t right. My stomach felt funny, like I hadn’t digested anything all day. But we went ahead to Judge Roy Bean’s Old Time Photos and got in line anyway.

Let me say, that was a humiliating couple of hours! Throughout the process of choosing a costume, posing for pictures, changing back into street clothes, and selecting an image to purchase, I vomited four times—once in each of three trash cans inside and the last time on the sidewalk. I was a wreck! Evan just about had to carry me into the hotel, I was so weak. (as I mentioned to him later, he didn’t realize he’d be fulfilling the “in sickness” part of our vows this soon!) Like the very caring husband he is, he made sure I was comfortable, gastronomically stable, and reachable by phone before he left to eat some dinner (I couldn’t yet bear the smell of food). He returned with some Dramamine for me, so I was out cold most of the night (except for the conversation we had in my sleep and the noise from the bar across the street).

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Sunday morning I awoke to the sound of the bells from St. John’s Episcopal Church next door. And to my own throbbing head telling me, as if I didn’t know, that I was dehydrated. Although my stomach felt much better, my body ached from those convulsions and I was too weak for much exertion. So I lay in bed as long as I could before showering and packing (check-out was at eleven). Evan was already hungry, and I was beginning to feel a tinge so, so we puttered around town looking for a suitable lunch. Rather, he drove while I slept. We ended up at the Mangy Moose in Teton Village, where I managed most of a slice of pizza while Evan ate his fish and chips. Since we had about four hours to kill before our flight boarded, we found a picnic table in the shade where I could rest.

Eventually it was time to go to the airport, so I slept on the way there as well. Of course, I had to wake up enough to get through check-in and security, but by then I was doing much better anyway. And we had a celebrity sighting there in that tiny airport! Evan looked up his picture for comparison, and sure enough it was BJ Novak (seen in Inglorious Basterds, Knocked Up and several episodes of The Office).

The rest of our trip was uneventful—no mad dashes, no missed connections, just a stroll to Gate 88 and a bite to eat at the deli next to it. We arrived home, at our home, sometime after midnight—not ready to face the real world the next day, but certainly glad for the time we’d had together.