In the last minnute....I did it.

 

 I won NaNoWrimo this year! As you can see. My name is not yet on that just yet, but it's gonna be there. Now, just to remind anybody who might have forgotten, NaNoWrimMo means National Writing Month. It is a contest where thousands of people compete with themselves, friends, and time. 

It is; can you write this many words in a month? It is harder or easier then it sounds.

If you think it's hard---please, it's easy! 

If you think it's easy---watch out, and be warned. 

If any of that makes any sense.  ;) It depends on the person, and the time they've got.

The contest is not a "who has written the best book?" Sort of thing. In fact, nobody sees your story unless you want them to. And you don't put it in the internet. Just your daily word count.

You folks older then 17 have to write 50, 000 words. 

Under 17? You can create your own goal. this was my last year doing that. My goal was 30,000. Pretty easy right? Last year I had a hard time with 20,000 words, but then I wrote like around 500 words a day. 

I've gotten twice as fast now. As long as I know what I'm writing. So, a thousand a day. No problem.

First week  of  November: Ready....start! Write, type, write, type. 

Second day: I'm stuck.

third day: On fire!

Fourth week: Ahhh! five- thousand words behind and I'm only catching up about two thousand a day! procrastination.

Last days of November: I'm gonna make it...

Nov. 30, 11:59 pm: verified, and won. and just on the last minute.

whew! Whooooooo-hooooooo! Ha,Ha!  :D

I Guess It's Tradition...

In church my Young Women class talked about family heritage, background and traditions.
At first I couldn't think of anything, but then, as I listened to my friends talk about their families, I realized I had a whole lot. When it came to be my turn, I started with the most simple, most boring, most regular thing I could think of that my family does every year at birthdays. We each take turns to lift our present over the birthday girl/boy and say:

"Heavy, heavy hang over thy poooor head, what would you wish with a bonk on your head?"

And then we bonk their head with the present.
And the birthday girl/boy has to wish something marvelous for the gift-and-bop-on-your-head-giver before s/he can open their present.
Normal, right?
I was darn surprised when the whole class cracked up.
So then I told them about my tenth birthday when both my parents picked me up, hung me upside down, (my present was around 30 pounds or more with all it's pieces, so they weren't going to pick that up and hang that over my poor head,)

"Heavy, heavy hangover thy poor head, what would you wish with a bonk---"  Crack.
Well, luckily it wasn't my head that broke, it was my present. :(
It was a fish tank, one I'd wanted for a long time, so now, I just use it as a worm farm to breed my fishing bait. Oh well.
So my Young Women's class cracked up over that too. I guess then, that it is a family tradition after all. They had never heard of such a thing. And I thought it was normal. Well, I hope we didn't look too weird at our friend's parties when we bonked their heads.

;D

I'm at it again

It's National Novel Writing Month again! (NaNoWriMo)
and I'm writing another novel this month. Actually it's a new version of last year's book, which makes it harder because I'm kind of editing. :P
The progress is slower. But at the moment I've only 300 words to catch up for today!
and then, next thing I know it, I'll be struggling to find another 2,000 words for my story tomorrow.  But it's wonderful all the same.

I likes what I write, and I writes what I like.

But, how do you do NaNoWriMo ? Well, here's one way: cancel Thanks Giving, buy yourself a laptop and sit quietly in your closet typing away. Don't stop. If you hear footsteps in the hall, don't move. You don't want anyone to find you, ( they'll put you to work doing something they think is useful,) or you'll have about 3,000 words to catch up on before you get back. :O

Hello family and friends, come visit my store on Zazzle.com  ,  Or my blog/store!
Here are the web addresses: http://stickponyexpress.blogspot.com/
http://www.zazzle.com/stickponyexpress

Tell me what you think. I have only started it last month, so I am a beginner. I will be posting new things there about every week.

make custom gifts at Zazzle

Mormon Helping Hands

 After trek, the young women and men of my ward got together in a combined activity to serve with helping hands in a beautiful garden. There was a lot of weeding to do, we had them pulled and filled several garbage cans of them. Then the boys took them away to burn.

 We learned to tell apart the weeds from the various different kinds of herbs in that garden.

 Afterward, there was brownies and root beer floats as dessert, for all the Helping Hands.

                                    There's a lot of satisfaction you get out of something like that.

Now, why doesn't it work that way in my own yard on Saturdays?   :)

Girls camp 2011

Girls camp was fun, it was held at The Flying Ranch. So for me, it was vacation at work, (I worked there for the summer). My sister had a holy ghost experience while in her tent, settling down for bed. ( At girls camp settling down in your tent means: having a pillow fight, getting hyper from all the sugar you eat, and then telling stories at night, usually scary stories with beehives, and talking till 3:00 in the morning).
So my sister was doing just that, when the Holy Ghost said, "Move." 
Why? she asked in her head, and continued the scary story she was telling her friend,
(Who was tenting with her).
Again, "Move."
Where? what for? My sister paused, and then, "MOVE."
She was lucky then to have listened. She threw herself on her friend, and there was a crack, and a branch that had been above her tent fell on it, smashing down on where her head had been a second ago.
I would not have been so quick. I have to practice very hard on listening to the Holy Ghost, and more so do what he says with out question. But every time anyone does, they are blessed. It is always for a good reason.

Apart from that, she had fun. Camp went on as normal.
All of the girls, as far as I know, went on a hike that ended up at a cave. A very muddy, cold, but cool cave. It was better then last year's dead cow. That year there was a rotting cow at the end of our hike. Phew.

Ribbet-ribbet

So, gosh, look how long it took me to write about four days on a pioneer trek? Almost four months. So here we go, back to the regular stuff that happens to me. Ducky, her dog Eva and I went fishing at Discovery pond behind our house. It was a long time before I got a real bite from something heavier then the regular little perch fish of the pond.

Tug-tug....Tug-tug....

 "I think I've got something....I do!" I pulled out.....

A FROG. He actually took my bait. To be specific, I believe he is a bull frog.
"Well, we can take him home," Ducky said, "We could eat him."
I'd tasted frog before....bleh. Too much tendon. And slimy. It was at a restaurant, and Mom offered a quarter to whoever could eat a frog leg. So I did. I also tried sushi. ....Yuck. I think I gagged on that one. I like Chinese food, but sometimes I just can't handle slimy food.
Everybody has different taste buds.
We let the frog go.

Onward Christian Soldiers, part twelve

Ever onward. We were getting close to Zion. (Base camp)

It was our last day traveling. As soon as the sky cleared up, it was also the hottest day.We were pulling our carts through a grove of short shrubby trees.They provided no shade. My back burned. The company was silent. when we stopped for drinks, Ma poured ice water down our backs. That felt good. I met with some friends and talked with them, and made new friends. Soon we were trudging along again. It was long after noon. I had taken the front with some of my trek siblings and we were going an easy pace.  The angels appeared then, and Captain came to take the front. As soon as he did, he took the cart two times as fast as we had it, and we were close to being in the front again. All the angels helped their families. But soon, they were gone. They never stayed long, but they made up their short time.

And then, I spotted Zion. Hope. Home. End.

It was a funny thing, but, I never got any blisters until right then. I suddenly felt them on my heel, and where the burrs that I had left in my socks were. But we went faster---Even though Zion was really just a speck the size of my thumbnail. We got closer and closer. And then, breathless, someone in the company began to sing. It was the hymn Praise to the Man.
There weren't many people singing, most of us were silent, and just as breathless. But we were all singing in our hearts.
There were the gates.
And with them in sight, I realized, it was over. Over! Once again, and for the last time, we would be packed up on buses, and we would leave the legacy of my ancestors, leave the daily symbols of their sacrifice, their determination and faith, leave all these links with the past, to return back in time to the our modern world.
Gone would be the days of pushing and pulling and laughing and singing.
Gone would be the nights that we would hear the musician play his church tunes, play pioneer games and talk by the campfire. I wouldn't be seeing live pioneers walking in dresses and 1800's wear.

There was a last trouble spot, two huge slabs of rock that seemed like a dias just before the gate.
About two boys and two Pa's were helping each cart safely down. I was in front. We were about to enter through the gates. I joined in the breathless singing, even with no breath to use. And then-- we were through.
We parked our cart.
We unloaded it, and plopped against trees, anywhere there was shade. I found Joseph, and sat by him. Each sucking on a Popsicle, I'm sure we were thinking the same thing:

"That was the best Popsicle I've ever had."

Afterwards we had a water fight along with half the company. Joseph saw the trail boss, who was now turning back in to our work boss, with a bucket of water talking to some water-fight wall flowers.

"Get to close to the fire, and you're gonna get burned." he said.
"But I don't want to," the wall flower said.
Boss shook his head. He held his bucket ready.
Joseph had an idea.
He ran up to Boss with his own bucket of water, "Get to close to the fire, and you're gonna get burned!"
He splashed Boss in the face, and left him sputtering out water. But soon Boss got back at Joseph, he grabbed him and dunked him in a cooler full of water.
We all had fun. It was the funnest part for me. The games were fun, the tug of war too, but this homecoming, endure-to-the  end celebration was the most fun.
Except for my shoes.
Slish- slosh, slish- slosh, slish- slosh.
They were full of water, and sounded stickier then Joseph's flour crackers. It was no fun to walk around in wet shoes. Still, I did not regret it. Dinner was too close.

Dad tells me at home:
"Tali, are you sure you're going to eat all that? I think your eyes are too big for your stomach." He is usually right.
This time he was wrong. I piled up on mashed potatoes and KFC chicken, salad,biscuits, hot dog, chocolate milk, chips, cookies, and cake. My eyes were perfect sized then. I ate it all. After a lunch of flour and water pancakes, it was wonderful. But I didn't see the angels. Where were they?

The time came. We were seated by our trek families and enjoying our dinner while the stake president shared his thoughts. He began talking about death, and then, he said, "But they knew that they would see their loved ones again, and that in time there would be a resurrection,"
The angels came out of a building behind him. I set my food down and jumped up. There was Captain.
He searched the the mostly seated crowd for us, and then he saw us. First he was walking, and then he was running. We all ran to him, and met him half way. We group hugged, and he told us how proud of us he was, and how hard it was to watch us struggle while he stood in the field.

That, and the water fight were my favorite parts of the trek. On our last family home evening, there at base camp/Zion, Ma and Pa gave us each a special card. This is what mine said.

Tali,
Wow! what a sweet heart you are. You are so talented and have such a sweetness about you that shines like you won't believe! Thank you for the willingness to share and bring such heartfelt messages to our family. Tali, its a great blessing to have a Mormon Heritage, and because of this it means so much to participate in this trek. (Your stories were great) We so much appreciate the great help-- you never stopped, even when you were tired!  Thank you, thank you, thank you! You even rescued your Big Sis. during a storm. We're truly blessed to have the family that we did.
Thanks for sharing your testimony that radiates from you.
Love Ma and Pa Bogdants.
 (Our trek family name)

That note meant a lot to me. What ever you are doing, out there in the modern world today, I love you Ma and Pa! Thanks for making us a pioneer family, even for a week. I will always remember!

The next morning, we packed, said our goodbyes, got onto buses, and left. I knew that some of my trek siblings I would not be seeing again.   :( .Some were going to college at BYU. And one would soon be on his mission. But we had good memories to keep, and shared a truly amazing experience.

Onward christian soldiers part 11

I woke up in the morning, so I must have got some sleep. When Pa and the boys joined us, Ma told them about last night. Pa and the boys had some pretty funny stories to tell about their night's sleep. Helaman had been sleeping under the stars when it suddenly started raining on his face. It thundered, it lightning-ed, it blew, but you know what he did?
He just rolled up in his tarp and slept like a bug in a cocoon. I have to say, though, a wet bug. But he slept though the rest. ;)

I also heard that Joseph's family had taken in a whole other family who had lost their Pa,

( Their Pa had become an angel) .

I don't remember eating breakfast that day, but I did have two oranges I kept in the pockets of my skirts. 

 As we packed and left the campsite it drizzled, but that was all. We had expected more serious storm weather- it is tornado alley, after all. However, the clouds parted and disappeared to the edges of the sky.  After a while, we were pretty happy to be stopped by our trail boss. First, he told us that other leaders had been watching the potentially severe weather on the Noaa radar. The front had come within miles of us. But the worst part of the storm, had made a distinct split around us this morning. I thought that was pretty cool. It was actually a miracle.

But teenagers, even pioneer ones, can't stay too sober and serious on break for long. We were happy to hear the trail boss round us up for games. Our families as teams, we played many fun games, and I never had so much fun playing tug-o- war.

In fact, the angels came and played with us! They couldn't talk though. Just as well, it was nice having Captain back, pulling with us. (He's in the white)

We beat all the families that challenged us. Most of that was Pa and our boys. We all had a wonderful time. Captain is in all three of these  top pictures, by me, Ma, and Constance. After the tug O war the angels left.
Joseph's  family, ( that had doubled in size since mourning) challenged us, but it was time to continue our journey. (Thank goodness, since our family wanted to keep our winning streak and they were such a big group!)
We saw the angels standing in the fields, as we passed, and they continued to appear and disappear throughout the morning. Then lunch came. We stopped, and looked around for the ATV people that usually brought our lunch but they were not in sight.
(I bet my ancestors would have liked some handy ATV people!)
Our trail boss announced that, as far as food goes, all they had, was a bucket of flour, and water. I could hear everybody in the camp groan. Well, here goes nothing. We were given our portions of flour, and luckily, that bit of flour was  distributed evenly, one scant cup per person, just barely . Some had to walk around asking, "Guys, do you have extra? Any donations?"
But everyone got something to eat. They had to make do with what water was left in their coolers. Each family was left to their own devices to decide how and if to cook their flour before eating. some ate it plain. Some made a slurry. Some tried to make a corncake of sorts. Some cooked it like ashcakes directly on the fire. There wasn't supposed to be salt, but some were sneaky. Or enterprising.
Ma happened to bring a non- stick pan and that's what we used. We made ours into pancake quality batter and went from there to make pancakes.

When a neighbor found some nice wild herb stuff that sort of tasted like Italian seasoning,
(and trust me, this lady knew what she was doing because she was a herbalist, and a nurse.)
we came up with the idea to make crackers. They tasted better. In fact, it wasn't so bad, I thought. It was food. Yes, I had oranges in my pockets, but I did not eat them. I wasn't supposed to have them. It would ruin my "try to relate to, and appreciate the real pioneers" experience I was trying to have. I found out that they had collected all the food from Ma while I was somewhere else. I told my family about them, and said I wouldn't eat them, so Helaman took them. My trek siblings were having a harder time then I was, at eating the flour water stuff, so I thought I'd share a story that I had read out of a journal of our ancestors that my Nana had given my real family. I'd memorized it because I had given a talk in church about their faith through trials last December.
Here is how I told it:

"You know, one of my ancestors that crossed the plains in a hand cart,well, their company had gotten stuck in some snowy high Wyoming pass in the winter, and they were waiting for rescuers, or waiting to die.  they could go no further, and their father had died. They had only the leather from boots on their feet to eat, so they boiled them. When rescuers finally came from Salt Lake, they had brought flour and water to eat. But, they did not have as much flour as we do, a generous cup each, all just for lunch., They had only enough to, pretty much, just flavor their water. But, when my ten/eleven year ancestor had some, he, like other children in the handcart company, asked his mother, "Mother, when we get to Zion, Can we have this skilly soup every day?" All the flour you could eat. Heaven fulfilled.

They laughed, and my mission was fulfilled. There was a little extra batter in the pot, we were going to throw it out, but Pa said, "Waste not, want not."
He slurped the flour-water down, and said, "Tastes like oatmeal."

After I had finished, I went to see how Joseph was doing.

When he had seen me, he turned and showed me his. He had put his batter in between two sheets of tin foil, and cooked it like a tin foil dinner. 

He said, "Look Tali, my family was smart, We made crackers," 

He took the tin foil apart, and there was a gooey sucking sound. They were wet and they were sticky.

I had two perfectly cooked pan cakes in my pockets to show him my family's, but I just nodded at him and left. I didn't want him to feel bad I was so blessed.
But now I have to share the joke. And even Joseph marked this post funny, so he can't feel too bad.

Onward christian soldiers part 10

So after the cow hole, we all headed back to camp, prepared dinner, and had our own family home evenings. We could have been a family together for a long time, the way it felt.  It was our first night without Captain. There was an empty space left in our circle of upturned buckets. Pa suggested we move closer. It was a different family home evening this time, Helaman was back now and fine, but he wasn't so chipper, and walked with a  limp.

And Alma had done a wonderful job at being big brother while he was gone. We shared our feelings about the day. My sisters cried about Captain again, but I couldn't even feel sad anymore. I was happy. I missed Captain, but he wasn't gone, and I looked forward to the next time I'd see the angels. But then, when it came time for my oldest sister Ester to share her opinion of the day, I was caught off guard. I had been thinking again, about life, and was shook back to the present when I heard her say my name.

She talked about how she noticed I was working hard as I could, and she was humbled by that and realized that she wasn't at all putting her best effort into helping the family. It was such a nice thing to say.Well, I felt guilty. I didn't say anything.
I wasn't much, really. I didn't think she should be comparing herself with me.

So, after dinner,  I wrote in my journal until it was dusk. There was an odd exclamation mark in the sky.

I heard people whispering, and though I did not hear exactly what they said, I caught one word: "Angels."

I looked up, and there they were. They were actually in front of me, far enough though, that I could hardly make out Captain's face, and the face of the friend that had died earlier. They were singing hymns. I stopped writing and listened. As they sung, from somewhere in the camp, the musician who had played the recorder earlier began to play along with the hymns they sung.

Then they left. 

It was now dark. Ma was rummaging in our kitchen supplies, and I was using a flashlight to write, still unfinished with my very long, very detailed description of this and the other day. But I look back and wish I'd written more. Anyway, I asked Ma what she was looking for. 

"Constance is missing, and I need a flashlight to look for her..."

"Well gee, Ma," (I was getting good at pioneer talk,) "I have a flashlight, I'll help you."
So we went looking. I found her, sitting under the stars in the open. Ma explained how worried she'd been, and then this fellow with a strange self moving contraption, ( an ATV,)  came and talked to Ma, and I sat down and sat with Constance.

We talked about lots of things, some random, and some not so much. But it was a nice and comfortable feeling. There was a little bit of summer lighting in the distance, and we heard thunder. Constance suggested we go inside our tent, but I excused it and told her the lighting would be gone in a few minutes. But I was wrong. As we talked after that, it came closer and closer, and we forgot about it until soft thunder rolled  across the sky. 

"Oh, okay it is coming this way, I guess we'd better go." 

We went to our tent, said our good nights to Ma, Faith and Ester, ( Pa and the boys left for the men's camp more then an hour ago and we had already told them good night,) and went to sleep. Well, they went to sleep. I still needed to finish that entry.  But I didn't. I fell asleep on it maybe ten minutes later.

I woke to to furious howling wind, blowing on our tent the way the big bad wolf did in the the three little pigs. Wow, was I wrong about that being just summer lightning. The wind blew so hard that in pushed the tent walls in. It was also raining. I checked my journal to see if it was wet; but nothing was. I tried to go back to sleep, except for an annoying thought in my head that the tent would blow away. Ridiculous. Be quiet head, and go to sleep!

I am not scared of storms. I used to be in the first few years of living in MO, terrified that all my drawings would be sucked up by a tornado. But there had been so many, and never did a real tornado come within 10 miles of our house, I was completely sure that we would be protected. 

But this silly thought wouldn't go away. I opened my eyes. There was suddenly an odd flapping noise.

I sat up straight.

The tent !

The same time I sat up, Constance did so also. 

"You know, I think I'd better go see what that is," I told her.

She nodded, I''ll come with you." She took a flashlight, and we dove out into the rain. The flapping noise was the rain fly, and we were just fixing that when a big Boom of thunder cracked all around us. Faith and Ester were up as fast as the flash of lightning that followed it. They were terrified.

"Tali, Constance, where are you? Is that you?" Faith cried, I answered, "Yes; the fly's come undone," I was about to say we had just fixed it, when I saw above my head by the sharp light of lightning and Constance's flashlight, the pole, one of the ones that held our tent up---was broken. 

"Uh, okay, I think ... I think I can fix that." I hoped.

You know that in stories they talk about blinding rain? The rain really came down that moment, and it was hard to see, blinking to keep waster out of your eyes.

While Constance held the flashlight, I worked the tent pole into fitting back into it's mettle clasp, but the clasp thingy was bent the wrong way. How on earth did that happen? It was hopeless.

Suddenly, a gust of wind blew even harder, I was almost pushed forward, feeling much like pooh bear in the episode of the blustery day.  All the tent stakes came loose. The tent tipped, the only reason it kept it's place was that Faith and Ester were huddled inside, screaming. Constance and I abandoned the pole and went for the stakes. They were the cheap thin metal kind that comes with most tents when you buy them. They are a joke. Get the big bright yellow plastic ones please!!!  And get extra when you get your tent!  Trust me, they grip the ground  better.

We stomped them back in and grabbed the pole before it came down. Ma woke up and came to help us. I explained the problem and how I had woken up. She helped us keep the tent down and reassure our older sisters that everything was okay.

As I stood there, holding that pole, I wondered if I would be here all night and saw that no one else was having tent trouble! A blessing for the rest of us.  It was because ours was the tallest, and biggest. Everyone else's was a small ground hugging dome shape. Soon, though, help arrived. Through the same way my own first impressions came`~ the Holy Ghost. That's his job. God does care how we are and where we are, and sometimes it is through inspiration to another that he meets our needs.

  My real-life, ward Bishop's wife, and mom of my friends, was another Ma on the trek, and camped near by with her trek daughters. I don't think we were super loud and interrupted her sleep, I think she just knew that out there, there was trouble and someone needed her. I did. How else would I have been relieved from my self-imposed duty of keeping those poles up?

She came with the right tools for the job:  duct tape. I have heard some say that duct tape holds the world together. I disagree. But it did hold our tent that night. My pioneer grandma's had troubles, and the benefit of  "sisters in Zion, who all work together", and even more often, where such ministering sisters themselves,  but I sure wish they could have had duct tape. 

When our neighbors came, and the work was done, I left the scene, and went to bed. As I crawled into the tent, Ma whispered to me, "Tali, you are the hero of the night.Thank you." 

I sure felt good that night. But I hardly slept after that.  

Onward christian soldiers part 9

Exhausted, we parked our cart and rested. It must have been around five o'clock.

All around us people were setting their tents up, or plopped next to their cart taking naps. I was sitting under some trees in the shade, a distance from anyone else, not caring about the ticks, bugs or misquotes. Too tired. I took burrs out of my socks. They wouldn't be any good when I got home, the burs had claws that tore the thread of my socks up. Either I went along and ignored the scratchy feeling of them rubbing against my legs or I took them out, reducing my socks to useless shreds. I decided only to take out the bad ones.

It  was very peaceful. As most of the camp woke up from their naps, the prairie camp became alive with the smell of  campfire smoke and noise of setting up tents, laughter, and a soft tune being played on the recorder. It sounded and smelled so real, so like what I thought a Mormon pioneer camp would sound, that I could picture Brigham Young walking here and there.

A little while later, I went to my family's camp site and washed my hair in the biggest pot that my family had, with Ma. I spotted some kids going behind some bushes south of our camp, and asked where they were going.
I think it was Pa, ( or maybe Faith,) that answered, "Swimming in a cow hole."
Swimming huh? Well, I went to go look. Some friends of mine said, 'Are you coming  to swim in the creek?'

I shook my head, " No, this is my mother's favorite dress,
(everyone was stinky- clay-covered-dirty when they got out). And it's also my last dress and I don't want to get it anymore dirty then I have to make it."
'why don't you change back into your other one?' they asked.
"Because that one's my favorite."
( Like all other girls, I had brought only two dresses, one for the first two days and one for the last two days. Everything we took had to fit in a 5 gallon bucket.)
But I followed them down to the creek. Normally I have nothing at all against swimming in a creek. Catching crawdads, tracking bluegill perch nests, skipping rocks, floating down, running back. I love it. But...

Oh, Oh. Pa was right. Some creek. It was a cow hole. The water was brown, and stunk like manure. Not strongly though. Only if you smelled the mud like I did. After all, there were free range cows running around. Ones with long horns. They weren't a threat though, as soon as they saw us they ran for the hills. Lots of kids were playing in it. I think most didn't know how to tell cow water from good swimming water, and the rest didn't care. My brother Joseph was one of those who plain didn't care. He was hot. He romped around with the rest of them.

Many kids asked me to join.  I refused all their invitations, and sat on some beautiful rocks above the trail boss and  my ward bishop, ( who was Pa for my trek Parent's real oldest son,) They were conniving about how they would throw me in.  Such teasers they are, I couldn't tell whether or not they were serious~!

The cow hole ...

 And the plotters.
I stalled time and sneaked away. There wasn't anybody that was going to throw me in that.
I guess I am spoiled after enjoying the Ozark's crystal clear rivers.

 My bishop, ( in white with hair,) plotting with the tail boss to toss me in, even though I am right there, perched above them. You can see that mischievous look on the trail boss, (he's in the red shirt).
I got up higher on the bank after that.

Onward christian soldiers part 8

It was hot, it was hard, and it was drudgery. We were all frustrated, and some were a little angry.
Again, one by one, we had to lower each cart down into the ravine. And again, now, a few at a time we had to half lift, and half pull the carts up the other side.
I had never pushed myself so hard to do something before.  And had never pushed that cart so hard either, until then. Before, it was mostly the boys that got the carts through the ravine,
( plus me and a few other girls where we could,)
  But now they needed all the help they could get.
Several carts, as many as could fit through the available space, would be going down and up at once, three or four people in the front and as many as could fit in the back of the cart, as well as  two teams of Ma's and Pa's at both sides of the ravine, lowering or lifting the carts with rope. Most, including me, rolled their sleeves and pitched their hands on the carts in the ravine, and left the job of moving the carts away after they had successfully gotten over to the few that were on the top.

That must have been an easy job. But more help was needed here, in the ravine. We worked like ants.
Every one moved as fast as they could, some carts slipped, and had to start back up, but thankfully none tipped over, to my knowledge and what I witnessed. Though there may have  been more kids then our brother Helaman, (who was still at Base because of his sprained ankle) that may have been run over at one point.
Somewhere in the middle, when half the carts were all back up on the other side, I came to another cart and latched on, though there wasn't any space. Some boys told me they had this one good, so I let go, and was starting to where the carts were being lowered down into the ravine, where there was plenty of space for the second.

The dust was thick, and it was hard to see past the commotion, but I recognized my family's cart as it passed me. No one I knew occupied the work of hauling it up, but for some reason, no one at all was in back, for I could see that without back support our cart would slip.
I dove in.
Did I say that I had never pushed that hard in my life? I'll say it. I never pushed so hard as I did right there, in my life. We were half way up, and I was surprised to find that no one had come to join me at the back.
I was the only one. And I was slipping!!!!

The sand gave way beneath the cart's wheels too, and I knew if no one came to the rescue, or unless I could in some impossible way push harder, the cart was going to fall back and run me over! The cart was going backwards.
It didn't occur to me that I could get out the way, dunno why though.
And suddenly, there was a hard jolt, and it seemed as if half of the cart's weight disappeared. I looked down between my feet. Nothing had fallen out. The cart was now moving up, no longer slipping.
I looked to my right.  (heavenly music) An angel had come. (Hallelujah chorus!)
Dressed in white, He was pushing beside me,
with everything he had.   

I smiled gratefully at him, "Thanks Captain."
He didn't say anything, but smiled back.
It was teamwork. I will not forget that smile. Soon after, before we reached the top, some boys joined us in the back, and with out a word, Captain left. When we finally reached the top, there were not many carts left.

Somebody called out, "The angels are here,"
and I saw Captain, and my friend, and many other angels, including one that had been Joseph's sister. I had never noticed how many angels there were.
They all helped, and in a few minutes, the work was done.

The Angels left us to gather back into our families and carts. I didn't see them go, but once again, Captain was gone. But I wasn't sad. It was like, knowing for your own self that there is help, unseen help from beyond, and I had experienced for my self that prayers are heard, our needs are known. And when we are doing all we can do, they are met with unseen hands.

I found my family, and we took our cart, back the way we had come. At that old red gate we had passed through to reach our wrong-turn-ravine-consequence, there the angels were, once again, lined on either side of it, silent, sweaty and tired, like the rest of us, but all were smiling happily. I hope it was fun to be an angel.

Before, I had made a point not to smile or even look at The Angels. Each time I was afraid they'd come get me- or never return- but this time, I dropped my angry feelings for the  death angels. They weren't death angels who had abandoned me in need- they were my friends, and one of them was my brother, My angel brother, Captain. Father, Mother, Sisters, Brothers. Eternal Families.
I realized he hadn't left us at all. He never had. He was still with us.

 Captain is the angel in white in this picture, helping others.

 We reached camp.

Onward christian soldiers part 7

Why?  !!! ???? !!! :(  !
I watched Captain's back until he disappeared. Death. He was gone.

Pa held family council, and Helaman was now our oldest brother. Constance gave Ester a comforting hug, and Ma hugged Faith, who was crying silently. I wasn't crying. I was torn. I tried to remind myself. This was just a reenactment, but it felt so real. Captain was gone. My brother was gone.
 I stared past Pa's shoulder all the while he talked, hoping there was some mistake and Captain would come back any second. But I knew he wouldn't.
We left his things on the side of the road, and continued on. I took the front, in the place of Ester. I grasped the same section of the bar that Captain had, and pulled.

It was harder without Captain.

It was hard being up front.

But I did it. With Helaman. And with Alma. With my sisters, and with my trek parents.

And then we were instructed by other families to stop. There was a deep ravine ahead of us.
We could see it beyond the next couple family's carts. I abandoned ours to help my friend's carts down and up. The ravine was similar to a V in shape, I was too busy to take more then three or so pictures of it, and none of them show the real steepness of that thing!
When I'd helped a few carts up, I observed the struggle, intentionally looking for Joseph. I saw his cart go through the ravine, but somehow I missed him.

But then, there he was, right next to me. His presence was comforting that moment. We exchanged a few brief words, and then he was off, helping someone's cart up. In the very beginning, they had to figure out how to get the carts down without tipping them over. A flour-bag baby fell out of a cart on the way down and was crushed. Someone tried to grab it, but it was too late. Perhaps before, I didn't care for these flour babies. But now, I could see. I could see what a crushing effect seeing your own baby crushed under the wheels of a wagon could be. I tried to take better care of our flour babies after that.

(This whole sequence, on the movie screen, should have had the long, slow, Come, Come ye saints, no trial nor labor fear...and should we die, before our journey's through, ... though hard to you, this journey may appear, grace shall be,  as your day...",  slowly, somberly playing under footage of the faces, the struggle, the slow motion.....)


Down, the dirt was soft and loose, it gave way like sand. One Pa, I believe it was a certain one from my ward, brought thick rope, and it proved useful up, but especially down. I helped the last cart up, and when I found my family, they waved me over.

This time  I immediately noticed that Helaman was missing.

"Where's Helaman?"

"He went for Ma's contacts when they fell out of the cart, and twisted his ankle when the cart's wheel pushed his foot against a rock."
Faith told me.
If I had lived in the medieval century I would have said, "A pox on fallen things!" But I didn't know anything cursory for the 1800's, so I kept quiet.

"He's at the base now with the doctors." Ma said.
And that was it. We were down to one brother.

Quiet Alma. Alma took the front, and I went to my spot at the back. We rolled into a clearing where everyone else was parked. It was sort of odd, but I guessed we were having another story time.
Our trail boss stood in the middle of the circle, and called the names of the families that had to give up their babies, ( they died of course). He talked a while, about death. About loss and sorrow, trial, tears. The realities of the pioneer trail. The cost of my life and my faith today.

What perfect timing, I thought. we hadn't lost a baby, but we'd lost two brothers, perhaps one would be back shortly, though injured now, but Captain was gone. I felt more sad. Joseph's friend from our ward was sitting next to me, we glanced at each other, but then just as quickly looked away. I could tell he was feeling sad as well. It was soon for me to find out that his oldest brother in his family had died too, and that older brother was my friend.

I had kind of zoned out, thinking about this friend and Captain. Losing people you love, in the midst of the struggle.
But when our trail boss mentioned the resurrection, I  suddenly brightened a little. Were we really going to have a resurrection?
And then, of all things to say at that moment, he said, starting first,
" ...there were times when the pioneers took a wrong turn, and had to retrace their steps..."
He couldn't be serious. But then, of course he was.
We went the wrong way!

Onward Christian Soldiers part 6

Now we had a long ways to catch up, we were now in one of the long stretches of stragglers we used to wait for. It really wasn't that necessary, but Captain and Faith pulled us along, faster and faster, till we got to the middle of the main train. And then,we came to pass under a nice shade of trees. We rested, while our trail boss shared stories of the pioneers and mobs in Nauvoo. Several of my friends shared their family history stories.

And soon we were on our way again.
It must have been about 3 or 4 O' clock, I didn't know, but then, I saw the porta-potties standing by a grove of dry trees. If you saw those you knew we were going to stop for the day. Old-time tradin' posts, near-like! 
But this time we didn't. Others saw them too, and we were confused when our trail boss led us in the other direction. Maybe they were for some other company coming after us?  So we passed them. It was getting to be about the time of day we stopped, so I plowed on, eager to make camp and write in my journal about my experiences of the day, including the role-played death/departure of a friend in another family.


And then, we passed another gate. The angels. he angels of Death, in my book.
They were lined up on either side of it, this time very silent.
They didn't sing, ( they usually did,) and we were all too tired to sing.
But I wasn't even in the mood. I didn't want to sing. I was still having unjust/unfair feelings at that friend. I looked up from our cart, and saw him now, he smiled at me.
 I looked away.
Unwilling to return it.
I pushed harder, to get away from those darn destroying angels. And I was satisfied with the result.
It was only my short legs that prevented me from being a really good puller in front, it wasn't my attitude. But then, we hadn't gone too far, when suddenly, once again I heard Pa say, "Whoa, stop, stop, we need to stop. Pull over."
Was it another break? I had to pull back on the cart to get it to stop. And when we did, I looked over the heap of our possessions on the cart,
"What happened? Are we broken again?"

"No," Faith and Helaman who had been pushing in back with me, let go of the cart, and went to the front. Pa got out the parking stick, which held up the cart when no one was there to hold it.
It was right then, when I realized, that Ester was crying. And not just exhausted crying, she was really crying.

I looked at everyone else, they were all staring at the grassy floor, and Ma was crying too.
"W-what happened?"
Again I looked around, one face was missing... where was...?
"They took Captain," Ma said softly.
"What?! Who took---" I glanced at Ester, and then I knew.
The angels took Captain. I looked over Pa's shoulder, and saw him. Walking with an angel.  The angel put his arm over Captain's shoulder. He didn't even look back once. Now there was a lump in my throat. Can heaven be so great? Can God really need those who are needed here? Cruel death angels. Family destroyers. Robbers. Thieves
Captain, come back! You can't leave us, you can't leave me, we need you! I wanted to call out, but the words never escaped my mouth.
He disappeared under the cover of the grove of trees. And all the angels left.