Jason the Conquerer

I've come to the conclusion that men and women are wired differently. I know - I should have reached this conclusion by the age of 3, or at least 5, especially given the crazy situations that my male cousins would get into, i.e. "Mark's on the roof again!" or something of the sort.

But seriously - here is my latest example of how differently we are wired:

The last time we were in Grand Teton (last month), Jason saw a book in the visitor's center called "Mountaineering in the Tetons", and just had to have it.

Since then, he has read it cover to cover, and from what I can gather has become very inspired by crazy men from the late 19th Century and early 20th Century. They were crazy men - no ropes or modern equipment. Jason is now regularly talking about free climbing and mountaineering up colliers (we can't agree on the spelling, and since we don't have the book with us here in Jackson, can't check it).

Now, he sees a mountain and is planning how to climb to the summit.

Me? I see a mountain and I think "Oooh. Pretty." and that's where it stops.

This morning, we hiked about 8 miles before noon, and a good half of those miles were straight uphill.

And it was gorgeous.

But we ended up a third of the way up one of the Tetons before Jason would consider coming down. I wasn't going to hike any further in the snow. Jason was thinking, "Well, we've made it this far, let's just keep going."

Check out this video to see where we were:



I love my husband. I love that he needs to conquer. I love that his need to conquer pushed me up a mountain to this kind of view today.

But geez... left to my own devices? I'd take a flat hike with some wildlife viewing, and looking at the mountain from the base. "Oooh, Pretty."

That's why we're so good for each other. I keep him from trying to summit, and he keeps me hiking up the hill.

A metaphor for marriage, don't you think?

Chasing Jason up the mountain.

And the funny thing is, I heard the same conversation from another family on the same hike. The father and son immediately plowed up the snow covered mountainside, headed at least to the waterfalls above. The mother and daughter decided to sit on a rock and wait for them.

Then.... the mother in all her guilt decided to go, hollering at her husband, "Wait up, honey, I'm coming!" Her husband, 100 feet above her, turned around and yelled, surprised, "Really?"

I bet she didn't regret going at all, and I bet going with kept her husband and son from doing something stupid.

See? Balance.

Tomorrow? Jason must Conquer again. :) "Oooh. Pretty."

Taken yesterday by a stranger at the top of Signal Hill in Teton. For the record, I got dressed FIRST that morning... Jason copied me. And yes, our matchy-matchy outfits are gross.

On an early part of our hike today, at the lower falls, when I was still easy to convince to keep hiking upward.

At the top, ready to start down.

"Honey, I'm still a guy"

My husband is a guy - a man's man. An outdoorsy, active, mechanical-brained male who happens to take beautiful photos. But no mistake - he's a GUY.

And I love that about him.

I was listening to my iPod in the greenhouse today while Indy chased a mouse (I was trying to avoid being a part of mouse murder, but well, we've been through this before...). The Brad Paisley song, "I'm Still a Guy" came on, and I just started laughing since it made me think immediately of Jason. I was lost in flowers, thinking of my man's man, when he sneaks into the greenhouse and scares the crap out of me. He then proceeds to tear apart the storage corner with Indy, trying to get the mouse (which is still roaming free). In the process, he found a dead mouse in the container and took care of it for me...

Thank God he's a GUY.

If you've never heard the song, you have to take a listen. Just click play on the link and then keep reading the blog. (There are photos below!) Ignore the photos in the youtube video... cheesy.



My favorite lyrics are:

"These days there’s dudes getting facials
Manicured waxed and botoxed
But with deep spray on tans and creamy lotioney hands
You can’t grip a tackle box.
With all of these men lining up to get neutered
It’s hip now to be feminized.
I don’t highlight my hair,
I’ve still got a pair,
Yeah, honey I’m still a guy.
My eyebrows ain’t plucked,
Theres a gun in my truck.
Thank God I’m still a guy."

And speaking of my GUY, he grabbed my little point and shoot camera and took some photos of the greenhouse today, cause he thought you all should see it. He said, and I quote, "Well honey, you definitely have a green thumb." To which I replied, "Oh, I've killed a couple of plants, but I always get rid of the evidence before someone can see it."

So here's my cheerful greenhouse, courtesy of my guy. :)

My Funny Valentine

I love my husband.

I can hear you saying, "Good! I certainly hope you do! You married him!"

But really, I love my husband.

He has a beautiful heart. He's generous with what he has - time, talents, and finances. He makes me laugh every day - EVERY DAY. He sings to me - silly songs - and they melt my heart. He loves my family. He'll drop everything when I need him. He's so humble. He's so incredibly talented. He raised a GREAT dog.

This is just a short list of the things I love about my husband.

Happy Valentines Day, Baby. I love you more than you can imagine.

Little House

On Sunday I had to say goodbye to my little house. With the wedding coming up and Jason needing to move out of his current place in August, I decided that the best thing I could do is move out of my little house and save the money I would have spent on rent and utilities as a little nest egg for Jason and I to start with.

While I'm confident that this decision is the best and most responsible one I could make, that little house changed my life. I moved in there with a broken heart, and found a place that I could heal, grow, and become truly independent. I learned how to really manage my finances, what expenses are truly important and what I could do without, and how to be alone with my thoughts. I healed in that house, I grew in that house, and I became the person I am today in that little house. A little more than a year later, my life is so very different! As my mom put it, "That house served it's purpose." So while it is time to move on and forward, I do so with a little bit of sadness and definitely some tears.

Thank you, Little House. I hope your next tenant appreciates you as much as I did!