Everyone still has their fingers and toes

Friday night our young men and young women went tubing at Soldier Hollow.  This was the temperature at the beginning of the evening.  (It got colder!)

I managed to keep my happy face on though, because we weren't camping! (The original plan--which I had not been a part of making--was that we would camp, in marginally heated cabins.  When I did learn of the plans, I made a desperate plea on behalf of sane people everywhere that we not camp.  And it worked!)

The camping bullet had been dodged narrowly enough that my gratitude remained intact, no matter how cold it got.

Here are some of us, bundled up to the hilt.

You will notice in the picture, I am mid putting on my mittens.  They were a gift from Geri.  Between those and my base layer (also a gift), Geri pretty much kept me alive.  Later, Cortney asked me to take pictures.  I said 1) I am not staying out here that long (notice the nice warm lodge behind us) and 2) there is NO WAY I am taking off my mittens.

I stayed outside until I could no longer feel my face then I went into the lodge where there was a fireplace and hot chocolate.

It was a beautiful spot and had I been able to feel my face, I definitely would have stayed outside longer.

This picture shows the rope tow.  As a survival strategy, sometimes people would walk up the hill to get a little bit warmer.

My job became receiving frozen kids in the lodge and giving them hot chocolate and granola bars.  After they were sufficiently thawed, they would usually bundle back up and go back for more.  One girl (maybe one of my favorites, but shhhhh, I shouldn't have said that) came to me with FROZEN hands.  I rubbed her hands and got her back among the living and when her friend wanted to go back out, Rachel said, "There is no way you could get me to go back out there."

And no one blamed her.

Some of the boys came in and their faces were too frozen to make complete expressions.  One boy was touching his face with his fingers.  He said, "I can feel my face but my face can't feel my fingers."

I guess the moral of this story is that I was very grateful for the warm lodge, our warm cars and our warm houses.  We are very fortunate people.

And, we WEREN'T CAMPING.

That night, all the young women slept over at my house.  (It was the ace in the hole I offered to dissuade the camping nonsense.)  The younger girls made beds on the main floor.  They fished their toothbrushes out of their bags and patiently waited in line to use the bathroom.

The older girls were in the basement and were pretty much maniacs.  I think they were up until 3:30 AM and I've never been more grateful for a basement.  (Because I eventually retreated to my bedroom upstairs.)  The next morning I fed them Costco muffins and poured juice and milk.  One of them commented on how nice it was of me to spend hours making them breakfast.  Such cheekiness!  Actually, it was really good to just hand them a muffin on a napkin and sit around the table together, chatting.

Eventually the girls from the basement emerged.  Bleary eyed doesn't begin to describe their state.

Emma had gone to her room at some point.  Rose, the last basement girl to emerge asked, "Where's Emma?"  I told her she was still asleep.  "Well, I'm waking her up!"

I wished Rose luck as she bounded up the stairs to Emma's room.

She's a brave girl.

I took a van load of girls home and left the rest in the care of Adam and Emma until they were ready to leave.  (The conversation went like this:  "Do you want a ride home?"  "No, I want to stay longer."  and what was I going to do?) Julie Beck was speaking at our stake center.  She is probably one of the top three women I would like to meet/be neighbors with/follow around like a puppy.  I sat in the front row and soaked in every word.  It was wonderful and enough to wash away any weariness I felt from the raucous night before.

When I got home, our basement looked like a frat house and I gathered up cups and candy wrappers and swept and vacuumed popcorn remnants.  I folded blankets and collected pillows. I filled a bin with lost and found items.  The whole time, I thought, "I'm so glad I didn't have to camp!"