Capitol Reef--Bradshaw Reunion 2012

For our Bradshaw Family Reunion this year, we made a trip to Capitol Reef down in Southern Utah. So much fun. 

Saturday morning we took off around 10 to head to Orem and then to Springville and then to Capitol Reef. We picked up Emily and then headed to Cracker Barrell in Springville. It was especially great to see our out-of-state Bradshaws: Charles, Mac, Sally (Martin, Tennessee); and Emily, Colin, Sam, and Charlie (Laie, Hawaii). We stopped in Scipio for lunch at Dairy Queen. They had this great petting zoo set up right by the gas station/restaurant. They had emus, llamas, a zebra, peacocks, ostrich, lambs, goats, donkeys, and a bunch of other animals. The zoo is run entirely off of donations. 

The ostrich was super mean--if you didn't watch him carefully, he'd bite you. I may or may not have learn this from trial and error. 

The goat liked my dad so much that he tried to steal his wedding band.

Anyway, we got to Capitol Reef around 4, I believe. Gorgeous. Our campground was perfect--away from all the other campers with a gorgeous view. You could see the mountains in the distance, an orchard on one hand, a hill on the other, and a field on the other. Red, green, blue--so beautiful. 

We set up our tents--mom and dad in one with their new, big cots; Anna, Em, and I in the 4-man tent. Em, Anna, and I went walking in the orchard. There were marmots scampering around the area. It was really just a gorgeous place. 

Everyone got set up and then we ate dinner--taco salad made by Keith. Super yummy--homemade chili with jalapeño bits. He let me take some home which I'm having at least once a day lol. After dinner, I noticed Sally (about 10 years old) writing something with charcoal. 

That's right...the Preamble to the Constitution. She's such a smarty pants. 

 After that, we headed to do two really short hikes to Goosenecks Point and Sunset Point. Dad is so afraid of heights that he wouldn't even go to the fenced-off area. The views there were beautiful as well. You couldn't really find a NON-beautiful view in the area. 

After that, we made a fire and sang some songs before heading to bed. They made smores after that, but Emily, Anna, and I were ready for bed by the time it was dark. I finished my book Edenbrooke (all in one day!) and then slept. Or attempted to. It was super super super windy--wind gusts about 50 mph so it was tough to sleep. Grandma Janet tried to sleep outside. She stayed all night like a soldier (but she didn't sleep much lol). 

In the morning, (Sunday) Keith made open-faced McMuffins--egg and cheese with sausage, bacon, or ham. They were really yummy and creative. After that, we had a little church meeting where the focus was God's creations. After the meeting, we drove to hike the Grand Wash. That was a very mellow hike. No climbing, just walking through a canyon. It was beautiful, though, with the canyon walls full of holes. 

We ate our lunches at the end of the hike and waited for Dad and Reed to come with the cars. Back at the campground, we took a much-needed nap, since everyone was drowsy from less-than-ideal sleeping the night before. Then I took Jace to look for lizards--his obsession. He wanted to catch one for his little sister Lexi. So we went searching (I video'd it), and he decided the lizard we found was named "Liz." Liz is a boy. Naturally. We went and got Emily to come with us, crossed the field and searched around the riverwalk area. It was pretty much hilarious. The kid has nonstop energy, and his voice is so animated. We had to stop in the field for some butterfly catching, of course. 

You can see Jace's concerned face because "Liz" went into these "pokey vines." He was worried she was going to get hurt. Next picture is Em and Jace fishing for Liz lol. 

Dinner was pulled pork sandwiches with sauer kraut. Yum--Keith did great on the food. Here's the chef of the trip on the left, with his brother Charles on the right lol. My uncles are too funny. 

Here's little miss Eliza, happy after eating her dinner. 

After dinner, we got lucky enough to actually catch a lizard. Jace named this one "Lizzie"--also a boy. You can see the look of pure joy on his face as his grandma holds Lizzie in her hand. 

I think we had a fireside of sorts. We had some people tell camping stories from past years. After that, the kids played lots of games. Anna and I headed to bed when it got dark. Party poopers, right? lol

Monday morning we had pancakes for breakfast and then made lunches before heading out to Goblin Valley. The drive was an hour and a bit, and the valley was so cool! I hadn't been for years, and the last time we went, it was incredibly windy. But Monday it was hot hot hot and not a trace of wind. Anna and I did some exploring. Seriously that place is incredible. Utah has such amazing and unique sites. 

We went up to the pavilion to eat lunch and get hydrated. Here's Lexi attempting to hide her baby doll from her parents, since they didn't want her to take it down to the valley lol. 

I ended up taking her down and hanging with her, Trevor, and Jace for awhile. Jace was jumping off the hoodoos, saying, "To infinity and beyond!" Then he'd smack his chest like he was Buzz Lightyear, pressing the button to activate his wings--and then he'd jump to Trevor lol. So funny. 

Anyway, we headed back to camp where mom, Anna, and I went to see the horses. 

After that, Mom, Anna, Charles, Ben, Mac, and I went to hike the Pioneer Tanks. I was tired, but I wanted to do as much hiking as possible. The drive alone was incredible. Windy road through beautiful red rock country. The hike was nice--only two miles round trip.

 

We made it to the tanks, which were pretty cool.

 

There was also a pioneer register--pioneers had written their names on the canyon walls back a hundred some-odd years ago.

We got back around 8 and ate dinner (chicken and potatoes.) 

Then some of us practiced our skits for FHE. I did "Twas a dark and stormy night" with Keith, Lydia, and Emily Bradshaw. I was the "constabule." It was pretty funny! After that, we went to sleep. In the morning, we had cereal/bagels and then packed up everything! I ended up riding with Emily and her three boys because she had barely slept the whole trip since little Charlie was sick. We listened to Harry Potter 6 on CD and stopped in Scipio at Subway. 

It was such a great time to be with the Bradshaw clan. They're always so much fun to be with. It had been so long since we had all camped together, and I loved having that experience again!

Here's to wonderful family and amazing places!

The Love Language Expert

If anybody needs lessons in how to effectively show love, I can tell you where to get them: not from me. Get them from this guy: 

That stud right there is my dad. And he is THE MASTER in demonstrating how much he cares for people through his actions. No joke. 
I realized this a few years ago, as my sister and I were discussing the book "The Five Love Languages." For those of you who haven't read it, the book discusses the different ways people show and receive love. The different ways are:

1. Gifts

2. Acts of service

3. Words of affirmation

4. Physical touch

5. Quality time

Ideally, the book helps you to recognize how you like to receive and give love, but more importantly, it helps you to understand how those around you like to receive love, and thus, how you can show your love most effectively to the people you care about. One person may value spending quality time together more than receiving a gift. Maybe you've been giving your wife gifts all these years to show her you care, but all she really wants is more quality time together. For someone else, the opposite may be true. There's a "test" at the end of the book to discover what YOUR primary love language is. Most people are strong in one or two areas, and then weaker in the others. Maybe your primary language is words of affirmation, your secondary is gifts, your tertiary is quality time, and further down are physical touch and acts of service. 

THE POINT IS

My dad is an EXPERT at all. five. love. languages. He uses all of them. All the time. And it blows my mind to think of how he does it. 

1. Gifts--the Cory Maxwell Way

Whenever my dad goes to the store (and he is known by name by all the grocers at Dan's, which means he goes almost nightly), he pretty much always brings home a treat. He knows how chocolate-dependent his children are, so he's always reaching his hand into the plastic Dan's bag and pulling out Reese's, Hershey's, chocolate orange sticks, Oreos, Milky Ways, or what have you. It's little things like that. But over a lifetime, I would argue (and I think my siblings would agree), it's much more effective than buying a one-time, huge gift, or even multiple big gifts over the years.

2. Acts of service--the Cory Maxwell Way

Picture this: you wake up on a winter morning and realize, with a sinking heart, that it snowed all night. You're running late, grumbling just thinking of how you'll have to take extra time to get the snow off your car windows and how your car's gonna be an icebox inside. Think again. Because Dad got up extra early (the man barely sleeps as is) to shovel the driveway (and Grandma's driveway), brush the snow off your windows, and even warm up your car. Bless. His. Heart. 

My dad's life is a constant flow of acts of service. Honest to goodness, the only thing I can think of that my dad does for himself is to read the newspaper while he eats his cereal. The entire remainder of his days consists of:

a) laundry

b) dishes

c) running to the store

d) taking a non-member neighbor to and from work 3 or 4 days a week. 

e) loooooong days at work (saving the world one quality, LDS book at a time)

f) home teaching

g) magnifying whatever calling he happens to hold (and filling in for others)

h) counseling his children

i) caring for Grandma Colleen

j) cleaning the house

k) a host of other altruistic acts 

Much to the chagrin of many of my siblings (especially Sarah), my dad is always eager to fulfill any requests they refuse to fulfill--like getting me a glass of water with crushed ice when I'm too lazy to walk upstairs myself. "Dad! You're reinforcing her laziness!" To which he just smiles and does it anyway. AND he doesn't get mad when I drink out of his water glass, which I do every time I notice it. 

This section could honestly go on indefinitely, but suffice it to say that my father does nothing but serve. And he'd be so embarrassed that I'm writing this. The man is H.U.M.B.L.E. 

3. Words of affirmation--the Cory Maxwell Way

If my dad saw this section, he might think this is a less-successful venture of his--at least when it comes to showing me he cares. I'm not very keen on receiving praise because I'm terrible at accepting a compliment--especially when the praise is given vocally. But, as uncomfortable as I may feel whenever my dad praises me or expresses his love for me (which is every time I see him, at least once), it makes an impression. Most definitely. He is constantly complimenting his children on their qualities, and one of the things I've heard most from my father's mouth is how grateful he is for what great children he has. I'm still learning how to be comfortable with expressing vocally how much I care for people, but my dad's example has been a constant and consistent one. He always makes you feel like a million bucks.

4. Physical Touch--the Cory Maxwell Way 

Of the 8 kids in my family, I'm known as the cuddly one. Ever since I was but a wee lass. Nay, a babe, even. I can always always always count on my dad for a hug. Especially a "side hug," which has become a family joke. He never lets me arrive from or leave back to Orem without one. Hugs are to be had in abundance when Dad's around. Annnd he lets me sit on his lap. Annnd he scratches my back if I ask (I know, I'm a terrible daughter). 
               5. Quality Time--the Cory Maxwell Way

This one is my primary love language, so it stands out especially to me. As a freshman at BYU, living in the dorms, I missed home. I didn't set my mind to immersing myself in the BYU social scene at Deseret Towers (may it rest in peace), so I was home. every. single. weekend. Yes, that's right. In my 4 1/2 years as an undergraduate, I can count on my fingers and toes the number of weekends I stayed in Provo. And guess who didn't have a car the majority of that time? This girl right here. And guess who came to pick her up every Friday and take her back every Sunday night? Dad. Rather than complaining about the FOUR hours of driving or the gas it required, my dad always told me how much he loved the quality time with me. He still talks about it to this day--7 years later--how much he enjoyed talking with me in the car those nights. And ya know what else? Rather than driving all the way to Provo every Sunday and just dropping me on the curb and wishing me a good week (which STILL would've been going above and beyond anything someone would expect of a father), he would carry my laundry bag into Building T and come up the elevator to the 7th floor with me. And then he'd get teary-eyed as he said goodbye, even though he probably already knew I'd be asking to come home in 5 days again. 

Exhibit B. Every time I've gone out of the country, be it a 5 am departure or a 1 am arrival, my dad always wants to take me to and from the airport. Of all the flying I've done, never has my dad been absent for a departure or an arrival. Once again, he doesn't just drop me off at the curb. He goes in with me, helps me check my baggage, and waits as I go through the (looong) security lines. Always there's that familiar face as I get through security and turn around to wave, or as I come down the escalator into baggage claim. All my airport memories include Dad. 

Exhibit C. Every time I'm home for the weekend, every time we have family at the house, my dad inevitably asks us what we would like to do while we're together--be it going to dinner, watching a movie, playing games, "or having Dad hyper down and stop asking questions," as he puts it. It's always been obvious that the family is his priority, and he's open to whatever we want to do, as long as it means spending time together. 

Like I said before, I could go on forever about quality time, the Cory Maxwell Way.

My dad is the most Christlike person I know because he is the most effective love-giver of anyone I know. All the strongest examples of Christlike attributes in my life have come from my parents and grandparents. To know someone as well as I know my dad, to have spent as much time with him as I have, and to still feel that way about him--there's no greater compliment I could possibly give him. 

 All of that, and he STILL knows how to have a whole lot of fun...

I love my dad.

Decision 2012--An Update

No. I'm not talking Mitt vs. Barack.

I'm talking about ME.

Yes, this is a selfish post. 

I pretentiously dubbed my grad school decision process "Decision 2012."  It's appropriate since I've been in the throws of the decision-making process for the entire first half of 2012, and I'll be starting my program/programme in 2012. As far as scope, it may not be as influential as the Presidential election, but for me personally its ramifications are so much more influential, intimate, and far-reaching. 

Lemme break it down for ya: In 4 months, I will be either

here

or here

or here

If you want cities rather than campuses, this is my decision:

this

or this

or this

That, my friends, is my decision. 

Okay, it's a bit more complicated than a bunch of Google images. So much so that I made a spreadsheet for my decision. I know, I'm my grandpa's granddaughter for sure. 

But nevermind that. This is BIG, people! Will my future resume say;

Master of Public Health, Brigham Young University, Provo, Utah, USA

or

Master of Science International Child Health, University College London, London, UK

or

Master of Public Health, University of Edinburgh, Edinburgh, UK

????

I've been praying about and dissecting this decision for 7 months now. And it doesn't seem to get much more manageable. I've felt like either The Man Upstairs is being awfully quiet about it all OR my revelation circuits are jammed. 

But SOMETHING'S GOTTA GIVE.

I believe that. If I didn't, I'd probably be on anxiety medication right now. nbfr.

In other news, I'm so chocolate-deprived right now.

Knees

It's crazy how life continues as if nothing has changed, even when I feel like everything is crashing down around and upon me. To an onlooker, everything must seem normal as I go about my nightly routine. To the untrained eye, there's nothing unusual to see here. Oh, but inside...
My insides churn, my stomach ties itself in knots, my heart is sick; but I robotically brush my teeth, put on my pajamas, and get down on my knees. Just like any other night.

On my knees. 

Once my knees hit the bed, things become more real; my feelings intensify; and even though it started as a routine gesture, I suddenly remember what real, sincere prayer feels like. No vain repetitions tonight. It's a dance between the desperate, fear-based emotions overwhelming me and the automatic peace and faith I feel when I pray. That time on my knees is sacred.

I pray as hard as I can for things to be "fixed"--for something to happen to reverse this potent emotional episode--for the situation to disappear so that I don't have to feel what I'm feeling.

And then suddenly I remember that my Father has always taken care of me. And He always will. He has gotten me through worse times and trials; He will get me through this one, too.

On my knees, I'm traveling.

Prayer is the act by which the will of the Father and the will of the child are brought into correspondence with each other. The object of prayer is not to change the will of God, but to secure for ourselves and for others blessings that God is already willing to grant, but that are made conditional on our asking for them. (Bible Dictionary)

That's my destination. I express these emotions I'm drowning in to sort through them with Him and to slowly bring my will into correspondence with His; to secure the blessings He already has waiting for me.
And then....
I take a step into the seemingly dark and unfamiliar future.
I wake up at 6:25. I shower. I eat. I drive to work.

Life. Goes. On.

And it really does--with or without me. Do I go on with it or stay paralyzed with fear? This time I'm going on with it, wherever it's headed; scriptures in hand, callused knees, and all. 

Hi. My name is Martha. I'm an embarrassment.

So, I just noticed something super embarrassing that I do. Here it is, well-documented: 

Much as the scenery may look like New York City, I am in fact wearing a New York sweatshirt in the Swiss Alps. 

Sporting the same New York gear in Paris. Of all the ways to scream "I'm an American tourist!" I think I chose the most effective one. 

My Paris shirt traveled with me to Peru...Probably my companion turned her plaque around cuz she's embarrassed to be associated with such a noob..

Paris shirt makes an entrance in Bolivia. Notice how Hermana Harman to my left realizes that we're actually in Bolivia, not France, and she dresses accordingly. She's so clever. 

London Loves--in Thailand. Not only does my shirt say London on it...it doesn't even make sense. "London Loves"?? Incomplete sentences are the. 

This may be the most acceptable oopsy since I'm wearing an Ireland shirt in Wales--countries which aren't too terribly far apart geographically or culturally. All the same, it just makes me look confused.

More London lovin' in Mexico. Brittany kindly painted me and my shirt ("I love TJ"/Tijuana on the back)so that it's probably going to be retired now. All the future countries I'll visit express their gratitude. 

So...this isn't acceptable. I'm embarrassed for myself. It either makes me look dense, like I can't remember where I am, or else it makes me look like I'm trying to broadcast the places I've been even as I go to new ones--which is still dense. Please forgive me. I promise I'll stop.

The Face of Mexico's Future

Some pictures I took while in Mexico of the beautiful children we spent time with.