Ice Ice Baby

I am not a sportsman. I don’t hunt and I don’t fish and I don’t regret that decision. Regardless, I decided to join my family for a morning of ice fishing at Scofield Reservoir a few weekends ago for the sake of curiosity and company. Jason’s irrational desire to stand on a frozen lake intrigued him into also coming along on this outing. Sadly, despite our many holes and numerous enthusiastic young fishermen, no fish were hooked that day but at least the banter and snowballs were as plentiful as the ineffective worms.

Haidyn was a patient fisherman but her persistence did not pay off.
Haidyn was a patient fisherman but her persistence did not pay off.
Why wouldn't a fish or two want to join this party?
Why wouldn’t a fish or two want to join this party?

Scofield is located high in the Manti-La Sal Mountains and can be reached via a little jaunt up Spanish Fork Canyon. It’s a favorite with anglers because of its abundance of trout. The ice was about two-feet thick when we congregated on its surface, which is plenty deep enough for all safety standards except those put forth by worrying mothers. It was both a bit discomforting and exciting to run along that frozen expanse with snow crunching under your boots and remember that you were not loping around on solid ground but solid water.

Isabelle found her lack of instant fish unacceptable and had to be walked around until napping set in.
Isabelle found her lack of instant fish unacceptable and had to be walked around until napping set in.
In the absence of fish, the snowballs did fly and there was no mercy for the the adolescent.
In the absence of fish, the snowballs did fly and there was no mercy for the the adolescent.

We all had a terrific time gabbing while the fish weren’t biting. So, although a few of the kids went home disappointed that they didn’t have any scaly trophies to show for their efforts, the rest of us considered the outing a fish-less success.

Donuts and Dinner

Perhaps it is my romantic notions or my perfectionist tendencies, my adoration for Jason or my longing for adventure but, whatever the culprit, I do not believe in taking Valentine’s Day lightly. I insist on making the most of that lovey-dovey holiday every year with a combination of the traditional and the abnormal.

This time it was my turn to plan V-Day for Jason and me but, although that arranging took some energy, it didn’t mean I was letting myself off the hook from my regular spoiling. In addition to the large cookie bouquet I sent Jason, I had an endless barrage of homemade sugaring plotted for my fine spouse.

I made these truffles from scratch. They were uber rich and beyond sweet but quite tasty.
I made these truffles from scratch. They were uber rich and beyond sweet but quite tasty.

I began my sweet culinary rampage by making red velvet pancakes with maple buttermilk icing for our V-Day brunch. As soon as Jason had gobbled nearly a dozen of those flat treats and left to return to work, I began forming chocolate truffles. A couple of hours later I delivered those to my surprised hubby and his eager coworkers. Sugar coma accomplished: cooking completed for the day.

I forgot to bring my tripod on our snowshoeing outing but I improvised with a backpack and some cave dirt.
I forgot to bring my tripod on our snowshoeing outing but I improvised with a backpack and some cave dirt.

The following day, a Saturday, I had arranged for some aerobic togetherness with a snowshoeing outing up Big Cottonwood Canyon to Donut Falls. I am ever ready to explore the unknown and was keen to give this trail a try; I was not alone in that sentiment. We often met other groups along this path but, with lounging mountains your habitat, one need never feel cramped.

The great outdoors are no less great when they are masked with snow.
The great outdoors are no less great when they are masked with snow.

The falls themselves are located in a cave with a relatively small opening. When you crawl in you are immediately rewarded by a shimmering cascade tumbling through a circular hole in the cavern’s roof. It’s as picturesque as it sounds, plus clambering into a slot in the ground generates a few of those exploratory kicks that all adventurers seek.

Although dinner was served a little closer to midnight than I'd anticipated, it was worth the wait.
Although dinner was served a little closer to midnight than I’d anticipated, it was worth the wait.

After our outdoor excursion, I concluded our celebratory festivities with a candlelight dinner of cheddar-bacon wedge salad, roasted garlic mashed potatoes, bacon-wrapped filet mignon and sticky cherry cake. Although, due to time constraints, Jason ended up assisting me some with this meal, which was not my plan, we had a great time preparing and eating together.

Valentine’s Day is not a vexation to me, as it seems to be to many. True, it involves some scheming and effort but I welcome that plotting with a mischievous mind and a willing heart. Jason is the best and dearest sort of husband; getting to pamper him on Valentine’s Day is a privilege and getting to spend time with him on that fine holiday while pursuing entertaining activities is the delicious icing on that syrupy-sweet cake. Long may the mushy sentiments and soppy customs of Valentine’s Day reign!

Regency Romance

You don’t need a TARDIS to travel into the past, you just need a few ringlets or an uncommonly-undersized waistcoat.

I made both of these costumes and have made others like them. One never knows when a whole wardrobe of Austen might be required to procure enjoyment.
I made both of these costumes and have sewn others like them. One never knows when a whole wardrobe of Austen might be required to procure enjoyment.

Last week we, once again, attended the Regency Romance Ball in Salt Lake City. This Jane Austen-themed event was, as expected, full of forgotten manners and spirited dances. We were joined this year by four other couples of our acquaintance, making a highly agreeable assemblage.

Our group was well dressed but not well behaved.
Our group was well dressed but not well behaved.

A proper lady can’t wear the same ensemble two days or two successive balls in a row. Therefore, despite my lack of lacking appropriate attire, I made a new dress with a matching reticule for this affair. I also added to the Regency wardrobe of my stylish gentleman by stitching him some authentic breeches. I assure you, that measure was self-serving in nature as any work put into Jason’s apparel for this occasion was well rewarded through the very great pleasure afforded by his historical hotness. But, apart from that, our costumes also procured us the prestigious, yet not that prestigious, position of 2nd place in both the women’s and men’s contests and also in the couple’s. How do you win 2nd place three times in one night and not 1st ever? I suppose it takes a particular type of talent to nearly succeed repeatedly while still consistently remaining a loser.

Our men flaunted outdated fashions with grandiosity and absurdity.
Our men flaunted outdated fashions with grandiosity and absurdity.
We ladies were elegantly attired in gowns that even Miss Woodhouse would have deemed acceptable.
We ladies were elegantly attired in gowns that even Miss Woodhouse would have deemed acceptable.

Jason and I delightfully danced the night away while our companions selectively dabbled on the dance floor. Few women, and none of good breeding, would complain about the prospect of being twirled around a ballroom by their very own Pemberley squire. I would certainly not be among them.