My Pioneer talk

I gave this talk in sacrament meeting two weeks ago.

I am going to talk about my trek experience.
It was great. I made new friends, had fun,  ate Doritos, chili, tin foil dinners and brownies, and had a nice set of spiritual experiences.
It was hard, but fun. I want to go again if I get the chance.

When I got home, I told my stories to my parents.
Mom said, "Oh Tali.... you were spoiled."
 Yeah, I thought the same thing, ' uh, no I wasn't,
But then, I think about it and--- yes, I was spoiled.

I walked and pushed only for 4 days. I never starved. My trek family had a cart break down, and we fixed it with rope. We got back to base and Pa fixed it professionally as soon as he could get his hands on some real tools. Nothing serious.
We never had a big, or true breakdown,  we were never left days behind.
I was  hungry. But I knew we would always have food. Only one meal was flour and water pancakes, where as the pioneers went days without eating anything other then boiled leather or white soup. They didn't have enough flour to go around to make thick pancakes. It was flour flavored water. I f you can call flour a flavor.

But I did get a glimpse of what they went through. I did.
I had a big trek brother. (He is the one with the hat in the pic.)
Goodness gracious he would just pull that cart like a freight train. He wasn't hogging it, he was working as hard as he could, and taking care of us.
It is not surprising, but I was the shortest one in the family. I was automatically made the youngest, apart from our flour baby twins. And I noticed every time there was an
opportunity to help out, my big trek brother leaped to it.
Every time any of us needed help he was usually the first there, if he wasn't already occupied.
But then we lost him, ( he "died" ) and abandoned his belongings on the roadside.
I saw him , not too long after, dressed in white with a halo of flowers on his head.

This was the most real part of the trek for me. when we sat down at dinner that night there was an empty space. We moved our buckets closer, but this empty space couldn't be filled that way.

And the resurrection-- besides the water fight, was my favorite part of the trek.

The pioneers lost many loved ones  and left their burial sites on the roadside.  But like me, they knew they would see those people again.
But this time, I didn't have to wait as long.

Now all that, that is not the reason my mom said I was spoiled.
She was comparing my trek experience with hers.
She didn't get Doritos and hamburgers. As an every day meal, she had oatmeal and cornmeal. When they were given something else to eat,
it got up and ran away. It was a live turkey.  They had to catch it, kill it, and cook it.
Mom showed me pictures.

when I was comparing my experiences with the old Mormon pioneers, those were just my thoughts.
what courageous, headstrong, faithful people. Stepping out of their comfort zone eating anything they could digest to survive, and being chased from their homes. But don't think that you have to push a hand cart  for a couple days or months to be a pioneer Yes, there are Mormon pioneers today, in this congregation. A pioneer is someone, anyone shoeing a new way to others.

A Mormon pioneer is someone, anyone showing a new way of life to to family members, being the first in your family to live the gospel standards.

My seminary teacher tells me, that we marvel the old pioneers for their physical challenges, but they will marvel at us for our moral, choice making,  and modern challenges.

 Captain is in the middle, Faith is on the right, I am on the far right holding a flour baby. ( we made our babies out of flour sacks.) And Helaman is on the far left.

Ma, Faith, and Constance rushing to the next cart. I am in the scene to, but not in this picture. I could not stop for long, or ask anyone to take a pic. for me. :( oh well. ;)

Onward Christian Soldiers, part two.

When the Mormon battalion left, all us women were left to ourselves and a hill that suddenly grew more Hill-ness, with lots of rocks and plenty of ruts. I watched Joseph and the man part of my trek family march in a line that got smaller and smaller, and then camped on the top of a hill beyond the one that we were about to take on.
It was very hot, every twenty minutes our trail boss rode on his mountain horse from front to the end of our company, reminding us to drink. My big sister, (Ester) didn't, and the result came very quick, in a punishing manner.
She blacked out, and was taken to one of the trail doctors.

NOTE: For this blog I will give my trek siblings different names,



ELDEST sister: Ester (for her courage)         
SECOND oldest sister:  Faith (For that quality)
THIRD oldest: Constance (for that quality)
YOUNGEST sister: Tali, (plain Me)

ELDEST brother: Captain ( Moroni)
SECOND brother:  Helaman (for those qualities)

YOUNGEST brother: Alma (for those qualities)



Ester, Faith, Constance, Ma, and I plunged into the great struggle over the hill, which at the time seemed more like a mountain. On and On, next one after the next, we pushed and pulled those carts up. All helping with each others carts I pulled my canteen out of our cart as some of the other women got it over, and took a fast drink, then caught up with the cart and stuck it back in.

Then I set myself to pulling one of the carts in the front. I was surprised how much that cart weighed. There was no way, I thought, if I was an orphan all alone on the prairie, that I could do this myself.
In fact I was frustrated and  a little angry with myself. This was what I was here to do, push a cart, and I gave so little compared to the taller girls. The way a handcart is built, it's a leverage thing. The handles aren't low enough for a shorter person to throw her weight into it effectively.

But I wasn't about to let go. I pulled as hard as I could, then another girl came to trade places with me, I guess she decided I'd done enough. I decided there, that I wouldn't overwork myself at the front, I would push at the back with whatever I had. Just because they were taller didn't mean  I couldn't work harder.

 There was no pausing. Every one was moving. But not too fast, the rocks were big enough to brake the cart wheels. Still, as fast as we thought our wheels could take. We wanted to be over with that hill as soon as possible, and some of us were wondering how the rest of the terrain was like.
Was it rocky, and bone jarring? Was it one hill after the next and energy eating? Or was it flat and foot killing?

I glanced up at the Mormon Battalion, standing at a far off hill, watching us. What a good time they must be having. Standing there, watching us down here, struggling with what must be much easier for them.

Oh, I could imagine exactly what  Joseph was thinking. He always compares girls camp to his scout camp, telling me all the work and physical fitness things they do at boys camp, and when I told him about the candy bars and cookies I had for dinner at girls camp and the huge tarantula that crawled into my tent one night, he scoffs, "Girls are so girly and silly. A tarantula? Come on Tali, it's completely harmless. You know that."
Eh em. Tarantulas are scary and hairy, and they trespass too many times. That is not harmless.  ;)
Well, I just knew the guys were all jeering like that up on that hill.

And then finally we got the last cart up, and we took our own carts and continued on a smoother old  trail. As we passed the boys, I was surprised how quickly they came to us.

In fact, they ran to us.

All my brothers took the front 

and pulled us all the way to the first of the line. Fast.

We didn't say anything, however. It was time for work.  All though I was wondering just what they has been doing up there. I was sure Joseph would tell me.
Easter was now back with us, but  she wasn't the only one having blackout problems. It was hot. Highs in the humid, humid hundreds were normal this summer, and the weather out here was more of the same.  We had been told to prepare physically for a lot of exertion for this trip. You had to watch your body signs, drink enough, eat right...and be lucky, I guess.  I counted like 8 girls in three hours. That's why we traveled with a trailing medical team.

Ma began to get really worried, and told us to "Drink!"
Faith, my second oldest sister, began to get as bossy as I was at home.
"Drink all of that Tali, and then refill, Captain you too." she told my Eldest brother and I.
For a second, I might have been worried about over drinking, but it wasn't long until I didn't need encouragement. And for the record, I never blacked out. ;)

Onward Christian Soldiers, part one.

The eighth to the eleventh. The pioneer trek.
Prologue:

Four days that in many ways, felt like forever, and, I was soon to learn, sometimes I wish they'd lasted months. This was a highlight of my summer, because of what I learned of spiritual things, through symbolic reenactment, about myself, my legacy of faith and my own spirit and capacity-  and that of my 'brothers and sisters'---

We woke up at 4:45pm and arrived at out church house at 5:00pm, waiting for some others. Joseph looks like a real pioneer, doesn't he? Some boys looked quite modern, and many quite hillbilly. 
Joseph and I load on my seminary teacher's bus with the rest of our friends that have gone with us, to drive to Lebanon.
It was a long drive. At least it sure felt like it.
When we got to the destination where we would be put onto tour buses and sorted into our trek families, Joseph and I were lucky to be put on the same bus. But before that, I went to the church house bathroom. A big mirror, one last time. And plumbing. I hadn't really seen how I looked in my pioneer dress, and when I did, I saw Little Bo Peep. Ha! As heroine of this personal pioneer history, I was sorta cute. My mother and young woman's president had told me so, and of course I wanted to see for my self.

In the bus Joseph and I sat together, for a little while.

And then Joseph saw a friend of his, someone who hadn't ever gone to youth conference before like himself. I guess Joseph thought he looked lonesome. Because he abandoned me for a good term of friendliness.We hadn't been sorted into our families yet, and no matter how it would be, we had been told that as real brother/sister, we would not be in the same family. And we were not so likely to be paired with friends from our ward, either.
So, I sat down by myself. Getting used to missing him.  Joseph's kind of my twin-friendly-enemy-friend. You know, actually a pretty good brother. I watched as people passed me, noticing that,  if you had a chance you wouldn't consider sitting by a stranger if you could sit by your friends. I had friends on the same bus that got in earlier than I did and were already seated in the back. Dang.

And then a guy came and gestured to the empty seat next to me.
"Is anyone sitting there?"
 If I was in a joking mood, I would have said, "Casper, you're going to get sat on."
But I said,
"No."
"Do you mind?" The guy asked.
I shook my head. "No."
He was dressed straight pioneer, very nice. And he was cute. Nice plus, but not necessary for good company. Nice, however, is.  He sat down and tucked his lunch under his seat. When he straightened, a voice in my head told me, "That is your trek Big Brother." Did I know we were going to have Big Brothers? No.
Wow, okay...

None of us had any family yet. I didn't take the voice seriously. And then someone, a friend of his, called him to sit with him. So he got up and left.
And then a friend of mine, came to sit by me. We had a nice time talking for a little bit, and then he had me to draw a picture for him. So I started a horse head portrait from the side view. Of course. Horse.

As soon as the bus started we were called into our families. The Ma's and Pa's called names on their list, that moment was very tension-filled. I really wanted to be in the same family as at least one of my friends from Super Saturday, the one sitting by me especially. He's good company and friendly with everyone, and he treats the gospel as something good that should be lived. So I figured, a good hand to have on a long  pull.
He was one of the first names to be called. And his new Ma finished reading her list.

Oh, now I am doomed. He went to sit with his family, but left his sketch book for me to finish.
I listened as every one in the bus was called, rose and sat with their new families. And Joseph. But my name hadn't been called. Was I on the wrong bus? I saw the guy that the voice in my head had been talking to me about. He sat by his own family. And then they were done calling.

 Oh no, I was on the wrong bus, how dreadful!
And then one Ma stood up.
"I am so sorry, but I have forgotten my list, so everyone that is left, you are probably with us."
Phew!
 I sat at the front with them. I had just gotten to know some a little, when suddenly another Ma stood up. We had been moving for at least twenty minutes.

She said, "We're missing somebody, a Tali Brinkerhoff," she searched the face of all the pioneer passengers. My goodness, that was me! I stood up. And finally sat with the right family. I suppose the reason I didn't hear my name the first time was because they must have mispronounced it, the Brinkerhoff part. Or, maybe they didn't see it on the list and it wasn't called at all until they realized they were a kid short.  I was introduced to them. My sisters, my brothers, my Big Sister, and, surprise surprise, my Big Brother.  He smiled at me.


That's when the light turned on.
Oh, I get it, that was the Holy Ghost! it was the same guy where the Holy Ghost had said,
"That  is your trek big brother." Well, I usually don't get communication from the Spirit that way. It is usually far more subtle! And picks far different kinds of things!

Well, we took the first letter of every one's last  name and made up the name Bogdants. One of my sisters had been one of my  JC's at girls camp before. I remembered another one for hiking in a tutu last year at camp. And I had danced with one of my trek brothers at Super Saturday last year.
But that was all we had in common, to begin with.

To begin with!

(Now hang  on the handcart with me here, 

this blog-journal entry will be some 11 other posts long!

It gets better, and worse. And it's worth it, I promise. I pulled through it!)

On our first day, as soon as we got to the ranch place where the trek was to be held, we were chased out by mobs as soon as our stuff was on the cart. Some hadn't finished loading their cart. But for the moment of peace before, here's a cool picture I took.

Here, the guy in the red shirt that looks like John Wayne, is my boss ,(I work at his trail riding, horse camp ranch during modern times some 200 years in the future) and his trusty farm hand in the gray shirt. They must be talking about the harvest this year. Doesn't look good. Or maybe about the mobs, perhaps the farm hand has spotted them and has ridden back to tell us.

Well, when we were out of the mob's sight, our red shirt trail boss,

read a letter from the Prophet Brigham Young, calling all the Pa's and brothers in the company to the Mormon Battalion, the only religious military unit in our country's history.

Leaving wagon trains and families for their women to handle. Leaving for Mexico. Leaving for service to the country that had tolerated their persecution, ignored their pleas for protection, but a country and a flag they still loved, and a constitution they still believed in. And a prophet like Moses,  whose words they believed, when he said, go, and if you are faithful, not one will die in battle. So, in the real 1840's, some  550 men and boys left their families en route on the plains, having been driven outside the country's borders, 2000 miles away from their future settlement carved out of the unwanted  inter-mountain west, a 2000 mile colonizing march before them. BUT  Now? Why now? Now this I knew about.

(Last year I wrote a paper on the Mormon Battalion. I have grandpas who  volunteered.That research came in handy, for I had actually written the letter Boss was now reading from Brigham Young. As a work assignment from the trail boss one day, weeks earlier. Shh. Don't tell. )
But now? We weren't even warmed up. And on the the battalion went, off with their guns, every single Boy and Man.

Well, good bye, just-met trek Pa, brothers, and big brother.

And trail Boss on his paint, Zach

The Proof copy!

Dad just sent the manuscript in, the paper back 6by9, 210 page book will be here... in a week?
Oh I don't know, but I cant wait!
And we just sent it in the nick of time! My promotion code is good until June 1.
This Dragon picture is the cover, sorry, this copy of the pic.  doesn't have the title.  My story has a lot of loose ends, in fact, It doesn't have an end. I should feel embarrassed. Maybe.
But at the moment I am too exited. But I do wish I could have finished the entire thing. Mom says I should tie the ends up and go to a new story. I have a new story idea that I'd planned to do this November.
It is a science fiction called the Cure. For now. I might have to give it a new title, maybe someone else may have already thought of that for their book. It sounds like that kind of title. But for now, that's what it is.
But it turns out that there is a NaNoWrimo camp this June. That's what they are calling it, but its the same thing as in November. So maybe I'll continue my dragon story and finish it this June. It does have an end, I just haven't written it. I will finish it. Sigh, hours, days, weeks...no longer then weeks, of course. :)

The Green after the Gray

 Planting Onions

 And cleaning one of our favorite parks, my sisters found edible mushrooms and cooked them the next day. Everyone loved them. they had a buttery, rubbery taste. They weren't my favorite though.

 We got Buff Orpingtons and barred Rocks. They have now moved to the chicken coop.

 Taking care of a friend's sheep while they visited their grand kids for Easter. Robin Hood is tired.

 Wagon rides down the hills are fun.

                                             And so are baby ducks and little sisters.

 "Mom, am I ready to go swimming?" Says the littlest, who is not truly warm enough to swim yet. Mom took most of these pictures, and I borrowed these, I thought these two bottom ones were the cutest.

This spring is the wettest I've ever seen. We had some weather problems, lots and lots and tons of rain. Our basement flooded, but others had it worse then we did. The saint Louis air port had a tornado run through. Yikes!
There were a lot of those running around. None of the came to close to our house. Thank goodness. since we moved to Missouri, I have thought more about natural disasters then when we lived in CA, i remember earth quake drills in middle school. And once we in a very tiny one. It only shook our house just a little bit. I felt it first, as it shook my bed.I  rand  to mom and Dad's room. But it was over within a few seconds.
Now over here we have storms every month. Tornadoes are common. And Rain.
I have a list of things in my head to go get, and I always keep track of them, just in case of a disaster. My bag of notebooks, journal, and drawings. Those are my most important things that can never be replaced,  except for my family.
But there is always a rain bow after the storm. And I don't only mean that literally, I mean there is always a good out come.
Look how green everything became.
Robin Hood got chicks to earn his merit badge. Sabrina got new baby ducks. They are anacondas, they are the best foraging egg laying ducks. Both the chicks and ducklings lived in our house for a while.

I love to see the Temple

This was our ward Temple trip. The first ward temple trip I've ever been on. It was long and busy but very nice. Though Robin Hood and I wanted to go to the science museum afterwards. We didn't, however, we were blessed.

Camping at Rocky Top

 We went for a mini vacation to A nearby lake.

  And I found the best fishing spot. This top and left is a bridge that was busted by flood water. On the left, you can see a tree that fell in to. It lies right across, and near it's roots and underneath it was a nice fish nest. It was at least until my siblings came to marvel over it.
"WOW!"
"Look at those fish Tali!"
"Yes, I see, I was here first, I know," I say, just a little irritated.
"There's a big one,"
                                                                                      "I'm gonna scoot down and take a closer look."
                                                                                     "No, please don't, your way too close,"  Too late,                                                                                                      they all swim away.

But I owe thanks for all my hooks they have saved from snags.
On the left I am taking a mental picture of it with dad, from my point of veiw, There is a scene that I think would make a nice scenery drawing.
Oh, and I take a lot of pictures, but there are lots on my blog that were taken by my Mom. Here at the bottom is Dad showing you how huge this pipe is.

And stayed in tiny cabins. We rented two. And had a fun time visiting different parts of the lake, fishing, ( I caught two perch, though I'd rather liked to have caught trout,) adventuring, playing ladder ball, and Air hockey. The only sad thing is that we didn't visit any of the mills. There are tons of cool old mills, some refurbished to look like they had one when they were new, and many that are left to rot. I feel sorry for the ones people have just let go, I like to imagine the little villages of Irish people, picturing were they were, and what they did. We once  hiked to see  an old hospital by a river that had burnt down.

Part two of Somtimes

Now about my writing. Everybody writes; in emails,  letters, blogs,  and books. I will always write even if it is only in my journal. Though I don't think that will ever be the case. I love writing letters. I love telling stories on paper. I like to read my short stories to my sisters,  the scary and funny ones are  particularly fun.

I have been working more on my NaNoWriMo novel. It is a fantasy, and my favorite, but also the one I have the most difficulty with.

I am trying to finish it so that I  get the free proof copy of it. So I can let others read it in a nice formal cover. I feel like I am far from that. But I am going to get the proof copy even if I don't finish my book like I'd want to. I already have the cover designed.  

My book 

But this here, is where I am stuck.

“What kind of private business? Are you doing something I should know about?”

Ivan looked into Michael's eyes, for a trace of a lie.

“No.” And there was that gleam. He was lying.  And then, another thing was in his eyes. A spark of gold. Like at the peace banquet. But it disappeared instead of growing.

So strange.

“My business is my business, and no one is going to pry me open. So stop it, and lets go help the others.”

Okay, what is Michael doing? That's the question. I thought I knew, but I have changed my story so that my original idea wont work. This is where my POV character, (Ivan,) has gone on a school hunt ( for deer) with his friends, and they had been attacked by wolves who turn out to be large hunting dogs bred by the rival nation Kerroma. The dogs took a particular interest in Ivan, and as he is later to see, even more so in Michael. 
But Michael had been wounded prior to that by a boar, so he stayed with another boy ( his cousin, ) in the other part of the Forest while Ivan and the other's hunted.  When the other boys had chased the dogs off, Ivan realized that the dogs had took off in the direction where  Michael and his cousin were. So Ivan goes to look. They find Michael's cousin all alone high on a rock surrounded by the remaining dogs.
Where was Michael? had he been killed? stranded? Ivan rescues Michael's cousin, though the cousin is bitten on the foot by one of the dogs so he jumps off Ivan's horse and kills the dog, another startles Ivan's horse who takes him for a wild ride and Ivan slips off the back. He finds Michael, who seems to be unaware of the entire dog attack. Plus, Michael has been drinking strange gold potions. And when Michael and Ivan join everyone else, every single wolf turns on Michael.

 Okay, some time has passed since I wrote that, I think I know now why Michael was separated from his cousin, more or less, or not not so much at all, but I know what he was doing.
So there's a buffering point for you. I told my Nana that I would be done with this story by February. Unfortunately, that hasn't happened. 
But I am not putting this book down until I finish it. In the past I have written pieces of stories and could never finish them. but now, I am finishing this one. 
NaNowrimo has helped me learn that first drafts aren't perfect and I should not make them so. Just get it out. It doesn't matter if there's too much detail, or in my case, no detail, or if you antagonist isn't original. Get it out. Then put it down. After a few months, pick it up and edit, rewrite, cut, or even add. All that stuff. And Then again. But a... to cut out seems painful. I had to do that for the first time. 

Robin hood is working on his basket merit badge

Girls in my ward say they are going to die on this summer's pioneer trek, with out showers, or a fresh set of clothes, and sweating all the way. But this is what I caught Robin hood saying:
"I'm going to die! Mom, I can't make any more dumb baskets. "
Well Robin, I don't get it.
Why do you say this when you talk so much about those silly girls who say that I will have to bury them by the roadside on the trek? How can you call them silly? We are talking about a pioneer trek. And you know what? Lots of people died on the way to Salt Lake .
But I have never heard of any one dieing while making baskets.


PS: To save his honor, and reputation, Robin hood request that I write this after post.

He says it wasn't as bad as he thought, it is hard, but he thinks it's fun. ( and he has actually has a talent for it.)
So maybe we will both live through the trek. Oh no, Robin said it again!
"If I don't die," But this time I think he is joking.
But I am really exited. I just got my pioneer dress. Now all I need is a bonnet.

Somtimes...

I think too much on what to write about.
There are so many ideas in my brain, there is never nothing, it's only what, and which one?
So today I will write about a career I will take on for life. I am going to be a writer and an artist. anyone who can draw a stick figure, can be an artist.
That is my belief. See mine at the top? You might notice one I never finished. My stick people are always cowboys and Indians, or fishermen. And sometimes my family. I like to decorate my envelopes with them. I used to draw possums on envelopes too. Mischievous ones. I have been drawing since I could hold a crayon.
But that is mostly because I have such a art- supportive mother. she gave me pencils, crayons, glitter, paint, markers and scissors, ( yes, there were times, my mom says, when I cut my hair, and drew on myself; I remember going to church with green marker all over my hands,) and over the years even a couple desks. Right now I have two.Desks, not green hands. He,he.
But the only problem is that when I was six I caught horse fever and since then I drew only ponies and horses. of course there was the occasional Kittie and dog in my picture, and a bird, but I drew only stick people. They were not important. And now, almost ten years later, when I feel like I want to have people riding my horses, I realize my people are no match for my horses! I can draw any animal realistically if i can see it,
(You can see some on my art bog, though I admit it's old,)
but people? Eh, he, need a few more years. I wish there was a smiley face I could put here. :)
When I was ten i dropped markers and crayons, and I never did much with chalk.
I started to lean to pencils. i loved the dark against the white, and it was then when mom said, '
"Okay Tali, it's time to learn how to shade."
She told me to get my coloring books and color them with a pencil. And from there I learned to shade. I like colored pencils to, but they have no erasers!
(The col. pencils that do aren't as good as the ones that don't.) And I have recently discovered water color paints, after watching a movie with my family about Beatrix Potter, and I decided that I wanted to be able to paint as well as her. In that I have lots of room for improvement. I have in everything.
My Nana was also an artist and she worked as an apprentice for Evertt Thorpe. He was a Utah artist, and some of his works are so real looking, like his mountains, it makes me feel like I am looking up. Evertt thought she was to good to get married and raise a family, he wanted her to keep working for him. He was a stickler for anatomy. Nana says I need to study anatomy.
And so I do, though not as much as I should, I think.
Dad got the Drawing on the right side of your brain video for the whole family to work on for an hour or two each Saturday. So far we took two lessons. The first was a self portrait. Yikes! We all got mirrors, and stared at ourselves for a while. At least I did. I drew myself quite small, maybe so that I couldn't see the mistakes. It was pretty okay. I will eventually get better.
These are some of the envelopes i have done in the past.