The Hoskins Annual Halloween Party

Well, it wouldn't be Halloween at our house if we didn't host some kind of Halloween party. This year we decided to throw the party for the children who attend Music Makers at our home. It turned out to be a great little party, and it made me grateful that my kids still get to have these kind of experiences with other children even though they don't go to public school. It's sometimes a little crazy putting it all together; however, it's as I told a few of the parents at the party: "When you home school, that automatically makes you the homeroom mom!" The party was a little more laid back then some of our family Halloween parties have been, but we still had some cute decorations,



some yummy treats,



our traditional witches brew,





a costume parade,



and a great time with our friends!



Happy Halloween Everyone!

Follow the Yellow Brick Road

Last year the kids were obsessed with the characters from the Chronicles of Narnia. This year, their Halloween costumes reflect one of their new obsessions: The Wizard of Oz. There are very few movies that we have in our home that do not fall into the category of "animated Disney" movies. Those exceptions include movies like The Sound of Music, Harry Potter, Indiana Jones, Pride and Prejudice, and now, The Wizard of Oz. The need to purchase the Wizard of Oz came after Nick and I saw the Broadway Musical Wicked and started listening to the soundtrack in our car. The kids fell in love with the soundtrack and started asking questions about the story of the two witches. After explaining the ins and outs of the story a hundred or so times (that is no exaggeration!), we decided to let Grandma Hoskins get them the Wizard of Oz for Valentine's Day. Now, some eight months later, the kids still love the classic tale and were happy to dress up as the four main characters for Halloween. Here they are:

Dorothy



The Tin Man



The Scarecrow
(Emma was a little bummed not to have a pretty dress like Maddi; however, she received so much attention over her cute scarecrow costume (yes it is home-made!) that she got over it pretty fast!)



and The Cowardly Lion. (Yep, this is the Aslan costume from last year. Hooray we could re-use it!)



And can you believe this photo we got when we went to the Haunted Forest at the Children's Museum! It was perfect!



The kids loved Halloween, and Grandma and Grandpa Hoskins have a special Christmas surprise for them that will be the perfect ending to their adventures in Oz: Wicked tickets. We're going on a trip to Chicago right after Christmas and we'll see the show while we are there. Nick and I can hardly wait, and the kids will flip when they find out! I'm half tempted to let the kids wear their costumes to the show; however, seeing as how we had to get special permission to even get children into the theater, I'll probably go for something a little classier for their evening attire. In the meantime though, don't be surprised if you stop by and find us sleeping among the poppies or having lunch in the Emerald City. In fact, I've got to run right now, a few munchkins are ready to be tucked into bed.

It's Harvesting Time

Sometimes, like harvest time, I just love having a corn field in our backyard!





At those times I wonder, what will our kids do when we no longer live "on the farm"? It will be a sad day indeed. Unless of course we get a farm of our own. I have a feeling it's going to take me a while to get my way on that one though.

"Bay-sketball and Tweeter""

I had a rather comical conversation with my husband tonight that made me realize how out of touch with reality our family has become. It all started after we were perusing a recent issue of Newsweek and happened to come across an article about Facebook. Since I have given Nick such a hard time about signing up for a Facebook account, we paused to discuss the article. The gist of the article was that now days the silicon valley techies create absolutely nothing and make millions doing it. The article targeted Facebook, Twitter, and some other company I've never even heard of that sells "virtual goods", whatever that means. Anyway, as I was busy bashing Facebook, Nick interjected, "It seems to me that Tweeter is the one that is really worthless!" I about fell out of my chair laughing. "Tweeter, huh." I replied. That's about as classic as my children, who can't seem to get their sports lingo down. No matter how many times we correct them, they still fuse the name of basketball and baseball together calling it bay-sketball. It's ridiculous. And Nick gets so embarrassed when they do it, especially little Spence. From now on when he gives them a hard time, I'll simply have to remind him of his own recent semantic blunder. Maybe I'll even encourage him to write a "twit" about it.

The Miracle of the Millipedes!

I want to take a minute today and record one of the Lord's recent tender mercies in our life. Now, as I relate this story, some of you may wonder how the heck this is a tender mercy, but just hear me out until the end. Okay, so here's the story. About a week and a half before we left on our two week trip back to Utah, I started to find millipedes in our house. Now sometimes I would find them here or there, but strangely, they started to appear most frequently under Emma's pillow. Yes, you read that right--under her pillow! Talk about creepy and gross. Every time I would pick up her pillow in the morning to make her bed a little black worm would be curled up underneath it. After a few days of this, I started to wig out. Where the hack were they all coming from? As the day to wash the sheets arrived, another even more horrifying event took place. I took the sheets off to find tons of the little black worms underneath her sheets. This about sent me over the edge. I picked her mattress up and moved her bed to find hundreds of the disgusting little creatures nesting right under her bed and all along the wall. I about threw up right then and there. I shooed all of the kids out of the bedroom and barricaded the door until Nick got home. Then, once he saw the nest, we both started into sheer panic. What on earth were we going to do? By this time, we were supposed to be leaving for our trip in just three days. How could we possibly deal with this disaster? Did we call an exterminator, or try to spray ourselves? And why were they coming into our house? After doing a little bit of research, the best answer to that question seemed to be moisture. But, that seemed like an equally awful answer. Was our house somehow leaking? We had to get answers to these questions and solutions to these problems fast. So, on Nick's last day off before the trip, the day we were supposed to get all packed, we set out to solve the millipede problem. After much consideration, we did determine that the house was leaking. The downspout right outside Emma's window had broken off, sending all of the rainwater straight into the ground right along the wall where her bed lay. In addition, all of the caulking on the window was destroyed creating a perfect entryway for the gross little worms. The solution was thus three-fold: fix the downspout, re-caulk, and spray like the dickens. This took all day, and actually forced us to delay our trip a day so that we could get packed; but, it proved to be a blessing in disguise. How, you might ask? Well, while we were gone, Rochester got record rainfall, and lots of our friends had flooding in their basements, not to mention flash flooding all over town. The highways were closed coming in and out of Rochester, and it was a major city crisis. When we got home from our trip, and found that the millipedes were thankfully all gone, we realized a surprising truth. Had we not found the millipedes, we wouldn't have noticed the broken downspout, or discovered the poor caulking job on Emma's window. Without these repairs, our basement would have surely had severe water damage. And such damage left for weeks could have been more than disastrous. So, the night we got home, we prayed together as a family and thanked the Lord for the millipedes. Funny how the Lord works sometimes. After all, who would consider a millipede nest under your toddler's bed as a tender mercy!

"Where to live, or where not to live"

As we near the end of residency, everyone keeps on asking us, "So, where do you want to end up?" Since we don't ever have a good answer to this question, Nick and I have spent a lot of time recently discussing options for our post-residency residence. We have discussed moving just about everywhere--from the east and northeast, to the midwest, northwest, and heck, even Alaska. We just can't seem to settle on any one place though, and with anesthesia being fairly open-ended, we feel kind of lost as how to proceed with applying for jobs. With time running out, however, we have felt compelled to start to narrow down our options. So far, our criteria is as follows: 1. We have to move to a city that has a temple. And that about sums up our narrowing down! Ahhh!

Recently; however, I was reading an "end of days" style book that might (or might not) have some bearing upon our decision of where, or where not to live. The book included this entry:

[This is a vision John Taylor saw recorded in the journal of Wilford Woodruff (Dec 16, 1877).]

"I went to bed as usual at about 7:30PM. I had been read­ing a revela­tion in the French lan­guage. My mind was calm, more so than usual if possible, so I composed myself for sleep, but could not. I felt a strange feeling come over me and apparently be­came partially uncon­scious. Still I was not asleep, nor ex­actly awake, with dreary feeling. The first thing that I recognized was that I was in the tabernacle of Ogden, Utah. I was sit­ting in the back part of the build­ing for fear they would call on me to preach, which however they did, for after sing­ing the second time they called me to the stand.

I arose to speak and said that I did­n’t know that I had anything es­pecially to say, ex­cept to bear my tes­timony of the Latter-day work, when all at once it seemed as if I was lifted out of myself and I said, “Yes, I have something to say and that is this: Some of my brethren have been ask­ing, “What is be­coming of us? What is the wind blowing?” I will answer you right here what is coming very shortly.”

I was then in a dream, im­mediately in the city of Salt Lake, and wandering around in the streets and in all parts of the city, and on the doors of the houses I found badges of mourn­ing and I could not find a house but was in mourning. I passed my own house and found the same sign there, and I asked the ques­tion, “Is that me that is dead?” Someone gave me the an­swer, “No, you will get through it all.”

It seemed strange to me that I saw no person in the streets in all my wan­dering around the coun­try. I seemed to be in their houses with the sick, but saw no funeral proces­sion, nor anything of the kind, but the city looking still and as though the people were praying. And it seemed that they had controlled the dis­ease, but what the dis­ease was I did not learn; it was not made known to me. I then looked over the country, north, east, south, and west, and the same mourning was in every land and in every place.

The next thing I knew I was just this side of Omaha. It seemed though I was above the earth, and look­ing down upon it. As I passed along upon my way east I saw the road full of people, mostly women, with just what they could carry in bundles on their backs, trav­eling to the moun­tains on foot. I won­dered how they would get through with such a small pack on their backs. It was re­markable to us[?] that there were so few men among them. It didn’t seem to me as though the cars were run­ning, the rails looked rusty and the roads aban­doned; and I have no con­ception of how I traveled as I looked down upon the peo­ple.

I continued east by the way of Omaha and Council Bluffs, which were full of disease. There were women every­where. The state of Illinois and Mis­souri were in a tumult, men killing one an­other, women joining the fight­ing, fam­ily against family in the most horrid manner.

I imagined next that I was in Wash­ington and I found desola­tion there. The White House was empty and the Halls of Congress the same, and everything in ru­ins. The people seemed to have left the city and left it to take care of itself.

I was in Baltimore. In the square where the Monument of 1812 stands in front of the Char­les Hotel. I saw dead piled up so as to fill the street square. I saw mothers cutting the throats of their own children for their blood. I saw them suck it from their throats to quench their own thirst and then lie down and die. The water of Che­sapeake Bay was stagnant, and the stench arising from it on ac­count of their throw­ing their bod­ies into it so terrible, that the very smell carried death with it. I saw no man ex­cept they were dead or dying in the streets and very few women. Those I saw were crazy and in an ugly condi­tion. Everywhere I went I beheld the same sights all over the city; it was terrible be­yond description to look upon.

I thought this must be the end; but no, I was seemingly in an instant in the city of Philadel­phia. There eve­rything was still. No living soul was there to greet me. It seemed the whole city was with­out any inhabi­tants. In the south of Chestnut Street and in fact everywhere I went, the putrefaction of the dead caused such a stench that it was impos­sible for any living thing to breathe, nor did I see any living thing in the city.

Next I found myself in Broadway, in the city of New York, and there it seemed the people had done the best they could to overcome the disease, but in wandering down Broad­way I saw the bodies of beautiful women lying, some dead and oth­ers in a dy­ing condition, on the sidewalks. I saw men come out of cellars and ravish the per­sons of some that were yet alive and then kill them and rob their bodies of all the valu­ables they had upon them. Then before they could get back to the cellar they would roll over a time or two and die in ag­ony. In some of the back streets I saw them kill some of their own offspring and eat their raw flesh, and in a few minutes die them­selves. Every­where I went I saw the same scene of horror and de­struction and death and rap­ine.

No car­riages, buggies, or cars were running; but death and de­struc­tion were every­where. Then I saw fire start and just at that moment a mighty East wind sprang up and car­ried the flames over the city and it burned until there was not a sin­gle building left standing there, even down to the waters edge. Wharves and shipping all seemed to burn and follow in common destruction where the “great city” was a short time ago. The stench from the bodies that were burn­ing was so great that it was carried a long dis­tance cross the Hudson Bay and carried death and destruction wherever it pene­trated. I cannot paint in words the horror that seemed to compass me about; it was beyond description of man.

I sup­posed this was the end; but it was not. I was given to understand the same horror was being en­acted all over the coun­try, east, west, north, and south. Few were left alive, still there were some.

Immediately after I seemed to be standing on the left bank of the Mis­souri River, opposite e the City of In­de­pendence, but there was no city. I saw the whole state of Missouri and Illi­nois and all of Iowa, a complete desert with no living being there. A short dis­tance from the river how­ever, I saw twelve men dressed in temple robes, stand­ing in a square or nearly so (and I under­stood it repre­sented the Twelve Gates of the New Jerusa­lem.) Their hands were uplifted in consecration of the ground and lay­ing the corner stone of the tem­ple. I saw myraids of an­gels hovering over them, and saw also an immense pil­lar of clouds over them and heard the angels singing the most heav­enly music. The words were “Now is estab­lished the King­dom of God and his Christ, which shall never more be thrown down.”

I saw people com­ing from the river and from the desert places a long way off to help build the temple and it seemed that hosts of an­gels all helped to get material to build with and I saw some of them who wore temple clothes come and build the tem­ple and the city, and all the time I saw the great pillar of clouds hovering over the place.

Instantly, however, I found my­self again in the taber­nacle at Ogden. And yet, I could still see the building go on and I got quite animated in call­ing on the people in the tabernacle to listen to the beautiful music, for the an­gels were singing the same music I had heard be­fore. “Now is estab­lished the King­dom of God and his Christ, which shall never more be thrown down.”

At this I seemed to stagger back from the pulpit and Brother Francis D. Richards and some others caught my arm and prevented me from falling. Then I fin­ished so abruptly. Still even then I had not fainted, but was simply ex­hausted.

They I rolled over in bed and awoke just as the city clock was strik­ing twelve. "

Interesting read, huh. Perhaps we'll add 2. In the Rocky Mountains to our criteria as well.

The Question of Mt. Rushmore?

After a fun-filled three day weekend in Island Park and Yellowstone National Park, it was finally time to make our way back to Minnesota; but not without squeezing in one more special outing. While we traveled to Utah along I-80 and the Mormon historical sites, we traveled home from Utah along I-90. This took us straight through Wyoming and into the sacred Black Hills of South Dakota. This was a special destination for our family. None of us have ever been to the state of South Dakota, making it the first new state we have all entered together. (And bringing me to a total of 46 and Nick to a total of 45 total United States visited.) Although it added a few hours to our driving time to take this northern route, it was well, well worth our trip.

While in the Black Hills of South Dakota, we drove the beautiful mountain byways, camped in Custer State Park, and visited the two famous mountain carvings in the area. Yes, two. Most of you are probably familiar with this carving in Mount Rushmore:





But how many of you could name this second mountain carving?





It is called "Crazy Horse" and is located only a short distance from the better know Mount Rushmore. We actually visited Crazy Horse first, and to be honest, I think it changed the way I saw and thought about the Presidential faces looking down at me at our second stop. In brief, the Crazy Horse monument is a tribute to the great Native American Indian named Crazy Horse, a Chief and Warrior among his people. The idea of making a monument to the Native Americans appealed to me, but upon learning that Crazy Horse was famous for his slaughter of Custer's men, I felt a little taken back. Why would they be building a monument to an Indian who slaughtered so many Americans? After looking into the project a little, I think my answer to this question is as follows: As a response to the American Presidential Monument erected at Mt. Rushmore. The Indian's considered the Black Hills of South Dakota to be sacred. They faught desperately to keep this land, but were eventually forced to live on reservations in other areas. When the idea for a mountain carving in these hills was first suggested, it was orignally supposed to be a tribute to the great exploreres of the west, and the original occupants of the west, namely the Native Americans. Before long, however, the project got redefined. Whether or not the change in scenery was meant as a political statement to the Native Americans, or simply a monument to American freedom, liberty, and progression, it left a bad taste in the Indians' mouth. And to be honest, it left kind of a bad taste in my mouth too. Why did we have to go to the Indian's sacred black hills and carve the faces of our presidents? Wasn't that kind of a slap in the face to the Native Americans? Well, they didn't turn the other cheek. Instead, they commissioned their own artist to come in and carve Crazy Horse. It is monumentally larger than the carving at Rushmore, and is completed funded through private donations. (Several times the artists declined federal money to aid in expediting the project.) It's an interesting project, and one that actually made me have a sudden sadness in my heart for the trials the Native Americans endured. Although their scattering and abuse was foretold years before in the Book of Mormon, I can't help but see the parallel between the Native Americans and the Early Mormon Pioneers. Nobody deserves to be driven from their homes and land. And nobody deserves a monument to be erected to their enemy on their most sacred ground. I can appreciate the message of liberty presented at Mt. Rushmore, as well as the amazing feat of carving via explosives in the mountainside. I can't help but wish; however, that the presidential monument was located elsewhere. I don't mean to be unpatriotic; however, I discovered a new patriotism at this national monument. One that runs deeper, and across layers of time. I also discovered a yearning I have inside of me for real truth, whatever it may be. Sometimes our "history lessons" aren't the only history lessons there are, and perhaps we could all benefit from taking another perspective every now and then. We may never fully appreciate the views of another, but thanks to the questions that arose from my visit to Mt. Rushmore, I will at least try. Thank you Mt. Rushmore. And thanks to Mr. Crazy Horse as well.

Yellowstone National Park

Well, after a wonderful week in Utah, where we got the opportunity to visit friends from so many walks of life, we were off again for another vacation within our vacation. After stopping at Promontory Point, Lava Hot Springs, Yellowstone's Bear World, and the Rexburg temple (we had a picnic on the temple lawn and then made a brief visit to some old Rexburg friends) we finally arrived at our final destination: Yellowstone National Park. We studied Yellowstone quite extensively in one of our home school units, and we came prepared with all sorts of fun activities to do in the park i.e. Yellowstone Bingo, Yellowstone animal fact cards, Yellowstone animal crackers to eat when they saw each animal, etc. Consequently, the kids couldn't wait to get into the park and see all of the sights, not to mention all the wildlife. Since we made so many stop-overs; however, we didn't arrive at the park until after dark. As a result, we went straight to our cabin in Island Park and decided to wait to go into Yellowstone until morning. The kids were disappointed at first, but they forgot all about their sorrows when we pulled up to the cabin and their cousins appeared at the door. There's nothing like a night with your aunts and uncles and cousins to make you forget all your troubles.











A dip in the hot tub, some games, and smore's helped to drown them out as well.

The next morning we woke early and assembled the whole family (excepting Uncle Lance who couldn't make it) for a group picture in the beautiful scenery.





Afterward, we headed over to the West Entrance. The kids cheered as we finally entered the Park. Our first family outing to Yellowstone was about to begin. I visited Yellowstone many times as a child, and then almost every weekend during the summers I spent in Rexburg. Later, when Nick and I were engaged, we took a camping trip up to the park. (Naughty, I know. But we were good--mostly. That skinny dipping in Yellowstone Lake was harmless--wink, wink!) In short, Yellowstone holds many, many fond memories, and we intend to make many more there in the years to come.

So, off we go. Come and take a drive with us through...



Yellowstone National Park.



And don't forget your binoculars. We've got wildlife to spot along the way!



Day 1

Our first stop, the Lower Geyser Basin and Fountain Paint Pot Mud Pots.

We couldn't help taking a shot of all of the kiddos in this crocked old tree before we started the walk through the geothermal features in this area.



They loved playing in the tree, but the hot springs, mud pots, fumaroles, and geysers soon stole their attention away.

Here's Emma getting a closer look at this hot spring from atop my shoulders.



And here is one of the bubbling mud pots we all stopped to have a look at.



This one's a geyser,



and then another hot spring.



The kids were fascinated by the smoke, the smell, the whole place really. And to be honest, this was one of the most meaningful trips I have ever made there as well. It helps to know the difference between all of the geothermal features, not to mention a little of the scientific background of the place.

The hot springs and mud pots soon took a back seat to these guys though!



Oh my buffalo! We finally sighted our first wildlife. And they were BIG.



After admiring these giant hairy beasts for quite some time, we made another stop at the Grand Prismatic Pool. This was my first time to actually hike up to this pool. We couldn't get a great picture from the ground, but here's a shot someone else took from above this magnificent spring.



It is actually the largest hot spring in the United States, and the rings of color are made from the different types of thermophiles that live in the varying depths and temperatures of water. The kids loved this brief stopover, even though the hike to the pool was quite steep. I guess it helps when you get carried most of the way!



And what would a trip to Yellowstone National Park be without our next stop: Old Faithful! We arrived just in time to watch the steaming water rupture from the earth. We were too caught up in the moment to think to take a picture while Old faithful was in its full glory; however, we did snap one at the last minute before the great geyser settled back into the earth for another 90 minute rest.



Then, with Old Faithful marked on our bingo cards, and full bellies from the Geyser Grill, we decided to make a kind of crazy detour out of the south entrance to the park and across a less traveled road in an effort to get me to an Idaho Stake Center to see the Women's General Conference. The grey road appeared to be a short-cut; however, as many of you well know, primitive roads are hardly a short-cut. It was rather beautiful though, and we did catch a glimpse of a giant elk in the course of our drive.



We did not; however, in spite of Nick's amazing off-road driving skills, arrive at the Stake Center in time to see the conference. I was pretty bummed, but we had made a valiant (and somewhat crazy) effort, and that was all we could do. That scenic drive capped off our first day in the park.

Day 2

Today began with a 6:00 a.m. wildlife drive. We didn't see as many animals on day one as we had anticipated, so, we decided to wake up early on our second day and see what was out and about. We didn't get a very good shot of the deer or pronghorns that grazed along the highway as we drove in, nor did we capture the beavers or otters that we watched playing in the river. We also opted out of taking more pictures of elk, and buffalo along our drive; but, we did snap a shot of this rare and beautiful trumpeter swan.



Let me pause for a moment and share why this swan was such a significant sighting. Several months ago I read the kids E.B. White's The Trumpet of the Swan. The kids loved the book, and Madison became especially enamored with trumpeter swans. When she learned that sometimes these swans could be sited in Yellowstone Park, she was ecstatic. She was sure to pick a bingo card with the great white bird on it, and she watched diligently in every lake and stream for one of these swans to appear. She was so disappointed after the first day when we had been unable to spot this noble water fowl. As we drove into the park on our morning wildlife tour, Maddi told me she wanted to say a prayer that we would see her trumpeter swan. I agreed, but was secretly worried that this would be one of those "No" answers to prayer. After a few minutes of driving in the park, we noticed a bunch of parked cars along the side of the road. In Yellowstone, parked cars means one of two things: construction. Or wildlife. In this case, it was wildlife. There, in solitary perfection, right in the center of the Madison River, floated this great trumpeter swan. Maddi considered it an answer to prayer, and a special one at that. After all, the bird appeared on the river named after her.

After our early morning wildlife tour, we cut out of the top of the park and attended church in a tiny little branch in Montana. We actually doubled the size of the branch, and as a special answer to another prayer, the Branch President offered to re-bless and pass us the sacrament since we arrived a few minutes late. Here is a picture of the tiny church building, the smallest we've ever been in.



With a little spiritual re-fueling, we headed back south into the park. Within a few miles we came to the beautiful Mammoth Hot Springs. The tiered hot springs was quite the site to behold.



We explored several of the largest stops, heated up some leftovers in a gas station microwave for lunch, and then hit the Scenic Yellowstone Byway once more. We drove for quite some time without a break, and then began a series of stops at some more of Yellowstone's most famous sites. First, we slipped over to the Petrified Tree. (Maddi and Spence both needed it for a bingo on their cards)



Then we paused to watch a baby black bear--this one a little less forward.



And then on to our last stop, Yellowstone's beautiful waterfalls:

1) Tower Falls





2) The Upper and Lower Falls. We could actually see part of the falls from the overlook,





but we decided to take the hour hike down for a better view.



Finally we arrived at the overlook just above the lower falls.



The view was magnificent as the water flowed over the rocks,



and straight into the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone.



After finishing the rather steep hike, the kids celebrated their accomplishment before climbing back into the car.



Now the only thing missing from our bingo cards was a moose, and unfortunately, one did not present itself in our drive from the falls to Fishing Lake, where we stopped for dinner, or on the rest of the drive out of the park.

While our first family visit to Yellowstone was quite brief, it was memorable for a host of reasons. We loved the time we shared there with family, we loved seeing everything we had studied in school, and we felt God's love for us in the majesty of this beautiful world, as well as in His marvelously personal answers to our prayers throughout our journey. It was hard to drive out the fourth and final entrance to the park, but as we did, we felt the peace of knowing that someday soon we will return again.