My oldest nephew, Tanner, left for college this weekend. He'll be attending BYU, with classes starting on Monday. Being the sentimental person I am, goodbyes are never easy for me, even though I know they're seldom final. Tanner is one of the most kind-hearted, conscientious kids I've ever known and I know that he's going to do great. I just know that college was hard for me and I struggled. Sure, I did have some fantastic experiences and I made friendships that have lasted to this day. But I was also extremely depressed and many days it was all I could to do to get out of bed let alone succeed in my courses. So when hugging Tanner goodbye, I found myself overcome with all the things I wish for him: that he'll make friends, that he'll enjoy his classes, that his homesickness will me minor, that he'll find his niche, that he'll enjoy his new freedoms responsibly, that he'll be happy, that he will face his future with confidence and with excitement. Oh, to be 18 again! With all the possibilities in the world ahead of you.
Also, I could have used that trailer when going to college. It sure beats a car trunk!
We had one of those crazy-hot weekends here in Portland. The three-digit kind that we Pacific Northwesterners are just not accustomed to. To get some relief from the heat, Brett, Abby, and I headed east to a little gem of a lake in the Mt. Hood National Forest called Buck Lake. It was written up in the most recent issue of Portland Weekly as part of an area swimming holes article. The drive up there was beautiful. I'm fortunate to live in such a beautiful state. The only way to get in to the lake is park your car on a forest service road and hike the final 3/4 of a mile in on foot. We obviously weren't the only ones who read the article as there was quite a bit of activity at the lake, more than usual according to some "regulars" we met there.
As you can see, the lake was gorgeous. There was no real gradual approach to the water. Rather, we kind of had to scramble our way over rocks and boulders of varying sizes until we found a spot that wasn't already claimed. Abby wasn't too sure about getting in the water. I think she would have been more comfortable with an easier way in and out. At one point, I was standing about waist-deep on a rock in the water and Abby was perched on a rock at about shoulder level with me. There was a much taller rock to our side that came to a peak at the top. Abby, in an attempt to get a better look at Brett who was out back-floating about fifteen feet away from us, jumped onto this taller rock, not realizing there was no place for her to stand. Instead, she ended up kind of running across the slope of the rock and then leaped into the water. Poor girl. Despite the loud claps and whoops from the people around us, she was so panicked at the surprise cannonball she could not get out of the water fast enough. She swam to me and tried to climb up my back before I was finally about to get one hand under her belly and the other hand on her collar and help haul all 70 pounds of her out the water. I'm not sure why she was so spooked because we've taken her swimming before and I know she can do it. After that, she was content to sunbathe on the warm rocks and chase chipmunks.
My oldest nephew, Tanner, left for college this weekend. He'll be attending BYU, with classes starting on Monday. Being the sentimental person I am, goodbyes are never easy for me, even though I know they're seldom final. Tanner is one of the most kind-hearted, conscientious kids I've ever known and I know that he's going to do great. I just know that college was hard for me and I struggled. Sure, I did have some fantastic experiences and I made friendships that have lasted to this day. But I was also extremely depressed and many days it was all I could to do to get out of bed let alone succeed in my courses. So when hugging Tanner goodbye, I found myself overcome with all the things I wish for him: that he'll make friends, that he'll enjoy his classes, that his homesickness will me minor, that he'll find his niche, that he'll enjoy his new freedoms responsibly, that he'll be happy, that he will face his future with confidence and with excitement. Oh, to be 18 again! With all the possibilities in the world ahead of you. 
