Our casual existence in the open air and glorious sunshine made me aware one day that I might be enjoying my socially lazy life a little too much. The children, I thought, needed an outing to the city to see some kind of cultural, educational things. So, I loaded them all into the pink Studebaker, which was the "running" vehicle at the time, and we drove to Salt Lake City. An outing to Temple Square and then a tour of the Lion House seemed like an excellent idea.
I've always been rather lax when it comes to attire and coiffure, but it wasn't until I paraded them through the front door of the Lion House and into those elegant surroundings that I realized how far down the lazy ladder I'd slid. We looked like a field trip from the homeless shelter. I quickly ran my fingers through a few locks and spit on my shirt tail and wiped breakfast off a little face before we took another step into the room. Then I shepherded them all into the back of the tour and hoped for anonymity.
We marched through the rooms listening to the tour guide talk about life on the frontier. I reached out gingerly and ran my finger across the dark rich smooth carved wood of a beautiful chair and thought that the pioneers in this house certainly had it a lot easier than I did. The kids seemed slightly bored as the woman led us out of the toy room and talked about the children in those days not having TV and how they had to make up their own games and use their imaginations. I heard one of mine little dears admit, "We don't have TV." "Well, good for you," said the woman, and she led us to the bathroom where she said, "But can you imagine not having an indoor toilet or running hot water?" I saw four little mouths drop open to respond, and like an experienced rustler, I rounded them up and bustled them right out the door before they could utter another word, then I herded them into the Studebaker and made a clean get away before child services could arrest me for neglect.
Each mile that I drove north, I breathed a little easier and when we pulled down the driveway, I blessed Mink Creek once again for sheltering me from city life, but I also cautioned myself to not let my children grow up uneducated and unaware of the way others live. I knew I wanted to find balance for myself and my children. I wanted them to be comfortable in both worlds, and I think we achieved that.