My parents are great, and we've always gotten along quite well, but for reasons that were mainly social and logistical, I ended up spending the last half of my senior year in high school and the summer before college living with some friends several states distance from where my parents lived. A couple of weeks after graduation, I was experiencing a day of teenage angst, and took a long walk. I was somewhat teary and very emotional. While walking, I happened upon a large vacant lot and decided it would be a good place to sit and vent some emotion. I wandered out to the middle of the weed filled space and sat down and prayed and wept awhile. Afterwards, I felt quite a bit better and decided that singing some hymns would really cheer me up, so I sat there confident that I was out of earshot of anyone and started belting out some of my favority hymns. I had my back to the street, and while I was in the middle of a hearty rendition of "Shall the Youth of Zion Falter" someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to find a police officer addressing me. He said, "Excuse me, Ma'am." I wasn't accustomed to being referred to as ma'am, and I actually thought he said Pam. I figured if he knew my name, my friends must have been so worried about me that they called the police, and I felt terrible. Then as the officer began to question me, I realized that he had no idea who I was, and then I found the whole thing rather amusing. As he continued to question me, I began to ask some questions of my own, as though we were just two new acquaintances getting to know one another. Fortunately for me, he didn't get upset about it, but when he discovered that I was living in a different state from my parents, I think he really suspected I was a runaway, and I don't think he believed me when I said I was eighteen. He decided the best thing would be to drive me home to make sure I really did have a place to stay. I didn't see any reason to fight it, so I went along. At least he didn't make me ride in the back of the squad car behind the "cage." When we got to the street where I lived, I guess he started to believe my story and he offered to drop me off at the corner so my friends wouldn't see me getting out of a police car. I assured him it wasn't a problem, and he drove into the driveway. My friend's two oldest boys--aged five and six--were playing in the front yard and were really quite impressed to see me in the officer's vehicle. They rushed over as I got out, then they spied the rifle between the front seats and climbed right into the car to see the cool gun. I felt totally vindicated and walked into the house and left the policeman to deal with the two excited little boys.
A couple of years ago, on our book club night, my friend and fellow book club member needed to attend her son's piano recital which was being held at our stake center. I agreed to meet her at the stake center and then carpool with her to the book club meeting which was being held that night in a club member's house a town away. As usual, our book club ran late (we're all quite opinionated about the books we read, and we're all big talkers in general). After the meeting, my friend and I drove back to the Stake Center so that I could retrieve my vehicle, but of course, I didn't leave right away, but sat there chatting with my friend for quite awhile. While we were sitting in her vehicle in animated conversation, we see another car entering the large parking lot, and then we see police lights (no sirens, thank goodness). The car stopped and two police officers emerged and approached our vehicle on either side. I think they were surprised and probably a little relieved to see two women sitting in the pick up truck, but they said, "Ladies, the Church is closed now. What are you doing here." We explained our whole piano recital/book club scenario, and they agreed that it sounded plausible. They didn't exactly order us to leave, but they definitely gave the impression that it would be best if we didn't hang around. Kind of put a damper on the whole post-book club conversation, but it was nice to know that if someone had been there to vandalize the Church, they wouldn't just ignore it.
My most recent brush with the law was not so completely innocent, though it was probably the most embarrassing. Meg is a very responsible child, and she gets herself up and ready for school by herself every morning. I get up a few minutes before she has to leave to make sure she's ok and to have prayer with her before she goes, and to watch her while she's standing at the bus stop. One day last year she slept through her alarm clock and missed the bus. It was a little stressful for both of us because I needed to be sure that I got her to school and still got back in time to get the younger girls up and ready for school. I ended up driving wearing my bathrobe and without my hair brushed, let alone putting on any make-up. It was just over a year ago, right before we turned the clocks back last year, so it was still dark. I knew some of my indicator lights weren't working, and had bought some replacement bulbs. I had been avoiding driving in the dark, but didn't really have any choice that morning. Of course, we got halfway to school and I got pulled over by a police officer. I am a natural rule-obeyer because I hate getting in trouble. I would have been really stressed no matter what, but to have to talk to a policeman whilst sporting bedhead and a bathrobe was excrutiating for me. I showed him the bag with the replacement bulbs and assured him I would get them changed post haste. He then informed me that it was more than a bulb replacement problem, because when I applied the brakes, the hazard lights came on. That was the event that precipitated the purchase of our new, ill-fated van (which has suffered a couple more fender benders in the past year, but is nevertheless a great vehicle to drive). Needless to say, I'm grateful that I don't have to drive Meg to school every day.
So, in those moments when you ask yourself, "Where's a policeman when you really need him," just tell yourself they're probably interviewing people in vacant lots and church parking lots.
I have been wanting to hike up to Marymere Falls for the past three years. We actually made it as far as the Ranger Station during Spring Break two and a half years ago, but it ended up being quite rainy, and Amy was just a toddler and we didn't think she'd make it to the top. Then we thought we might be able to hike it on our way home from Forks when Amy was two, but that was the trip where our van broke down in Sequim and we had to take a bus to Port Angeles to rent a van to finish our trip then return it on the way home, which meant there was no time left for the falls. We finally made it today, and though the climb to the falls was pretty steep and challenging for an old, fat woman, it was worth it, and the main part of the hike was fairly easy and pleasant. Beth was not excited about the trip, and was pretty grumpy when we started the hike, but thank goodness she snapped out of it and we had a nice day. The water didn't photograph all that well. The falls were prettier than they look in these pictures. You can find some nicer photos online. Lake Crescent was beautiful, as well.
ABC's folks were in town last week. We let the girls play hookey from school so that we could spend Friday at the Great Wolf Lodge. It was so nice being there on a school day with hardly any wait for the water slides and no big crowds in the pools. The girls had a great time with their grandparents, and it was a nice break for us as well.
