A date in the mountains

Last Friday, Ty and I headed up into the mountains for the most epic-of-epic, evening mountain dates to date. I kid you not with that pronouncement. It was amazing. And we somehow fit an entire Saturday's worth of activities into a solid few hours. It's like we're superheros, really. Awesome-date superheros.

We started the evening off golfing (and by "we" I mean I sat in the cart while Ty killed 9 holes and I gave him intermittent good-luck kisses.) The course Ty chose was completely breathtaking; it wound its way up a local canyon and provided the loveliest scenic views. Which made me realize that sometimes I have a very hard time deciding if I like lookout views, or in-amongst-the-tree views more. You know. For when Ty and I buy our amazing mountain home one day. Right. But for real, I really don't know which views I like better. Which might lead to questions like should we buy the cabin overlooking the beautiful canyon or the one nestled in the trees overlooking the grove where the deer will come graze on the berry laden bushes? See what I mean? Super tough. But, yes. So.

Second, we hit up a small hike called Red Ledges up Diamond Fork Canyon. Then after a little hiking around and letting Hank swim in the creek across the road, we made our way up a windy dirt road to the saddle between Diamond Fork Canyon and Hobble Creek Canyon for a bonfire with, I kid you not, one of the prettiest views I have ever seen. We got to the bonfire spot just in time to get our fire lit before enjoying a pink-hued sunset complete with cotton candy clouds. Quite the perfect end to a perfect little evening in the mountains.

We may have gotten back home much too late, and definitely with some droopy eyelids, but thankfully the next day was Saturday. And Saturdays are made for lazy, 10-a.m. mornings and leisurely trips to the farmers market.
How breathtaking is that golf course?

The view from our hike at Red Ledges

Ty and some evidence of beavers in the area.

We ran into these lucky ducks cows and their million-dollar-view grazing lands on the way to our campfire spot. 

And it's a ...

Last Friday morning Ty and I headed into the doctor's office for my 20-week ultrasound. We are 100% in the "finding out the gender camp" (hello, first time parents here!), so I had been looking forward to this appointment for quite a while. As we walked into the main building and were about to get into the elevator, Ty turned to me and asked what I thought the gender was. "Boy." I said. "What about you?" "Girl." he answered.

And team boy came through for a solid win! When the ultrasound tech wrote "BOY!" on the screen as she saw the gender, my little heart leapt. We are seriously over the moon. And I am so grateful everything is looking happy and healthy with him. It hasn't fully hit me what this new adventure is going to be like, but I am so looking forward to seeing Ty with our son. It's just going to be so sweet.

My Grandpa the Acrobat

In his younger days, my Grandpa Stillman was a professional acrobat. That's him, on the bottom in the white trunks. Performing in night clubs and on the beach for spectators circa 1935, that's how he made his living (and I'm sure whooed my grandma). When I was younger I was in gymnastics for quite a few years. And I remember visiting my then-elderly grandpa in his trailer home, and him spotting me on my back handsprings in his yard, giving me tips. "You gotta whip your legs around" he would say as he made a quick circular whipping motion with his arms. He's since passed (and I am no longer a gymnast), but I will always cherish those memories.

When I came across these pictures taken by Hans Wild for LIFE Magazine at a school for acrobats, Gymnase Saulnier, in Paris in 1947, I was transported right back to my days of instruction at my grandpa's hip. Their rudimentary setting. Their "athletic" clothes. Everything is just so wonderful. I mean, just look at the instructor's beret.

 Are those not SO great?! Man. Charm galore. And now, a few more of my grandpa for good measure.