Pie Crust and the 4th of July

We spent the weekend in Idaho for the holiday, but mostly just to get away. Some of my family lives up there, and while it's stressful in its own way to be around family so much in a condensed amount of time, it's still relaxing no matter what to be away from normal life in a green, grassy, breezy, familiar place that is consistently 10 degrees cooler than Salt Lake.

We spent half a day in Lava Hot Springs--which was pretty much insane, given that it was July 4th weekend. We wanted to go to the hot springs, and were almost jumping for joy when we saw that they weren't very busy. But one toe in the water showed us why there were only 10 people lounging around with their feet in the water. It was freaking hot. Like, so hot we couldn't even keep our feet in. LAME. So we suffered the jam-packed public pool down the street for about an hour and a half, all the while with Trevor asking if we could go yet. Seriously, is it so bad for me to want to spend a little time away in the sun and chlorinated pool water away from any friends, family, or acquaintances I might run into that might happen to see me in my swimsuit? Society just won't let me. We knew it'd be busy, but we were hoping not quite THAT busy. The highlight of the outing was probably a toss-up between the Thai restaurant's yellow curry, or the geyser at Soda Springs.

I did get a sunburn on one side of my body though.

We ended up getting up at the crack of dawn on Monday to make it out to a chuck-wagon breakfast, but it didn't work out. You know how things go when family gets together; something always goes wrong. I'm sort of surprised we made it home alive since we were both practically napping at the wheel (not really, we aren't that dangerous, I may be exaggerating).

My grandma made pie with me on Sunday, and handed down to me my great-grandma's flour sifter. She showed me how she makes pie crust, and had me roll out my own dough after she showed me how she learned to do it from my great-grandma. Pie crust is freaking ridiculous. Mine kept cracking and breaking and getting dried out. Hmph. The only other thing I've sucked at right off the bat so much in the kitchen is frosting cakes. But, needless to say, I will cherish that pie-making afternoon for the rest of my life. My grandma is getting old. And she only has more stress in her life lately. I want to remember the different things she gave to me at different times in my life--whether it was a floor to sleep and feel safe on during a summer trip when I was 5, protection from my older brothers and their plans to shove me into the ditch or catch moths and put them on me pronto pups on the shop porch when I was 10, consistent compliments on my hair, eyes, height, or brains as grandmothers do from the time you are 1 day old, or crust-making when I'm 23.

Needless to say, this was my first Independence Day without a single firework, sparkler, or throwing snappy thing. We catnapped the afternoon away while doing laundry, and mustered up the energy (somehow) to make spaghetti and lay on the couch watching Stargate while the fireworks went off outside in the parking lot. I love America; America's the best. And this year I celebrated by listening to America the Beautiful by the MoTab on my phone.