Enjoying SLC

With Scott in DC for a few days to collect our things, the kids and I had 48 hours to explore Salt Lake City. I’ve always enjoyed my time in SLC, brief though it was. I was excited to see if it could live up to my memories. Day 1: Get up at the crack of dawn to take Dad to the airport. Return to the Chief and nap and play on the internet until 1 in the afternoon because we were destroyed by the before sunrise alarm. How did I manage to do that every work day {coffee}?! Then… we headed to the public library.

The kids have 2 large baskets of books. We read almost every night and sometimes during the day. I thought 2 baskets would be enough… oh you teachers… I know you’re shaking your head.. We’ve read everything 1000 times already. I can’t wait to fly home to Grandmom’s house and do a book exchange. Thankfully, she has 3 extended book shelves full of kid books waiting for us. In the meantime, there’s nothing better than a good public library and Salt Lake City delivers.

The main branch of the library was designed by someone famous. I didn’t recognize the name but you already know I’m not architecture smart after the FLW thing in Iowa. The kids area is on the bottom floor with lots of books, lots of light and their own private patio with waterfalls and a cave with petroglyphs. On top of that (literally and metaphorically) there’s a garden on the roof with great mountain views and a working bee hive (bees are Jack’s thing… he loves bees). That was a an easy way to kill 3 hours in the afternoon (and we could have done more but I didn’t want to be stuck in “rush hour” {quotes because there is no such thing as real rush hour in America}).

We reserved the next day for Temple Square. It’s Utah – it’s a must-do. I don’t think there’s any question, but for the sake of posterity, I’m not a religious type (and neither is Scott). I consider myself to be a spiritual person, but I always find myself at a crossroad with at least some of The Rules of any given religion. For example, I went to a Jewish university… the only one in the country (yup… token goya… at your service). I went to services on (some) Friday nights and I did my best to understand the culture. What I could never really wrap my mind around was kosher. I understand that it was put in place during a time when they didn’t have modern technology. But now that we do…. why? I can’t get there. For the Catholics, I’m a raging huge fan of the current pope. My impression is that he truly demonstrates authentic leadership. But there are some fundamental baseline assumptions in Christianity that I’m not sure resonate with me – how do we really know what happened 2000 years ago and explain all the begats in the bible (between some questionable partners) and I’ve asked to personally witness the water into wine phenomenon and been left hanging MANY times. For the Muslim faith, I’ve visited many of the famous mosques in the middle east. I’ve read parts of the Koran (although, like the Bible, I find the old language hard to decipher). I don’t understand the role of women in their culture – it’s very different then what I expect for myself and my daughter. I could be a Rastafarian (outstanding music!), but I don’t like pot so I’m definitely not invited. And the list goes on….

All that being said, if I was going to pick a religion to want to join, I’d want to be a Mormon. With utmost respect, please don’t take this to mean I’m recruitable. I’m not cut from the same cloth. You try to take my beer, wine, Coke, coffee, and tea we’re no longer friends. Ditto for the special Mormon underpants… unless they’re made form silk and come in lollypop colors, that’s a non starter. However, it is my long term observation that these folks are the happiest, friendliest, prettiest, healthiest people on the planet. Whatever they get inside their sacred temple… it’s working.

Of course I didn’t check before we left the campsite so I parked at the public library and had to run uphill 5 blocks in order to make the noon organ performance in the tabernacle, but it was totally worth it. Jack especially loved the sounds. He danced. He watched. He didn’t want to leave when it was over. Then we explored the grounds a little bit. It’s a beautiful, peaceful area in the middle of the city. We skipped the museums… maybe when the kids are a little older and they can ask questions.

Evie desperately wanted to touch snow again and we were surrounded by snow capped mountains. I don’t know if it’s the Elsa thing or the fact that she doesn’t remember spending much time in it (although she did… we endured a winter in Virginia in a tiny apartment with her the year before we moved to Colombia). Whatever. She loves the white stuff. Since the organ music was Jack’s thing, I decided to take them up to the mountain I went skiing at some 11-12 years ago in the afternoon.

We decided to take the tram ride to the top. Always with the friggen heights… it’s terrible. I held onto Jack and looked at the sky while Evie and her new motorcycle friend John (approx 60 years of age and decked out in his leathers…. I encouraged the friendship) picked out deer on the slopes and tried to make the stupid tram swing in the wind.