Summer Family Pics

We have never really been strict on taking family pictures, but we spontaneously (as evident by our unmatched clothes, pre-photoshop) decided to take advantage of the overcast weather the other day. We snapped these pictures at a beautiful nearby historical estate. Though they are definitely not professional, I did try to use some pointers given to me by a darn good photog. (Sigh) It's actually good to know after your best attempt at something new, that there are professional people out there who can do it way, way better. The best shots here were taken by Juan. Anyway, it was poor timing because baby #2 (yes, still nameless) is coming soon and we're going to have to do it all over again. Oh well, practice makes...ummm... better.

Sweltering heat on an overcast day= not right.

The Doctor is In

The Closest to Camping We've Got Here

I love camping. Juan is so-so (thanks to the million scout trips he took as a kid,) but supportive. So why don't we take advantage of the great outdoors more often?

1. There are no close-by mountains.
2. Our camping gear is limited to two camping chairs.
3. "Camping" is defined differently here.

Allow me to expound:

1. The mountain issue. The nearest mountain range is the Poconos (about 2 hours away.) I hear it's worth the drive, but when you are limited to a two-day excursion, your time may be served better somewhere else.

2. No camping gear. Sure, we could scrape up enough loose change to buy a second-hand tent, but then you have to buy sleeping bags, and a portable camp-stove, and lanterns, etc. It's going to be a big investment when we do finally decide to get geared up for camping, so we'll have to wait a little while longer.

3. What "camping" means out here. If you've got an RV, camping chairs, and bikes and if you have been to a KOA in the last five years... you're considered an "outdoors man" here in Philly. My co-workers were shocked at hearing that not only do my dad and brothers go to the mountains a lot, but my mom and sisters go often as well. And lastly, if you want to build a small fire to roast marshmallows, you have to make that 2-hour drive I mentioned before you find a fire pit. This brings me to our weekend:


K & A suggested that we get together to make tin-foil dinners and roast mallows, and we were two-thumbs up for the idea. Getting all the food prepped was easy as well as clearing our schedule for the day. The only hitch came in finding a place to build a fire. They made calls, we made calls, but no one was finding success. Juan said that he called Parks and Recreation at Ridley State Park, the local fire department, and even the Parks and Rec for outlying towns. He eventually called the Branch President, who happens to work for a nearby township and who suggested a place we've been before, the Willows; it's a beautiful drive through spacious neighborhoods to get to this hidden haven in Radnor, PA. We decided that it was our best bet and piled in the car. When we all arrived, we searched high and low for the so-called fire pit. It was nowhere in sight; it was then that we realized that the stand-up grills were only form of fire-pits in the area and we surrendered our camping ideology to build a fire in one of them. Anyway, it was still nice to get back to nature at least in a small way, and the s'mores still were as tasty as ever.










And for fun, here's a delicious new tin-foil dessert recipe we tried out:

Campfire Upside-Down Cake

What you need:

6 Cake donuts
Canned pineapple rings
Brown sugar (abt. 1/4 cup)
Butter, melted (abt. 1/4 cup)
Aluminum foil

Cut the cake donut in half. Place a slice of pineapple on one side. Combine the brown sugar and butter together and slather the mixture over the other side of the donut. Close up the donut like a sandwich and wrap in aluminum foil. Place on a grill above hot coals, but NOT directly on them. Turn after about 7-10 minutes and continue cooking for another 3-5 minutes. The end result is melt-in -your-mouth goodness.

Happy 2nd Siena!

New Member Temple Trip

Saturday, we went to the DC Temple again with the new members of the Branch. It was an awesome experience for them as they got to do baptisms. I loved hearing their personal experiences with the temple as they shared their feelings about them in church the next day. All of us come from different backgrounds and are at different stages in life, but we all found the same peace and comfort while at the temple.

(I had to change out of my skirt to take care of our rambunctious little Nena.)

The Making of the Piñata

This week, I made my first piñata for Siena's birthday party. It was too fun... and I think we'll start it as a family tradition (as long as we have the time and patience, that is.)

Introducing...... the "Laby-gug" (as Siena says) piñata:

Here are some simple steps to follow for making piñatas.

Step 1: Find a good working buddy

Step 2: Blow up a large balloon


Step 3: Help your working buddy blow up the balloon


Steps 4-6: cover the balloon with phone book strips dipped in flour and water paste; let dry; balance dried product on head as a hat.


Step 7-10: Fringe crepe paper and glue it all over the piñata's body; create a loop/hook on top from the inside for the string; decorate it up; and resist the urge to fill it with candy right away... little hands do not wait for parties.

Pre-Game Tailgate and Phillies Game

(He really is happy to be there... he's just concentrating on the game.)

For Juan's birthday, my parents gave him Phillies tickets... Wahoo! We held our own private tailgate party--at our house--before the game. There's nothing like grilled pizza and soda on a hot summer day! It just so happened that a nice little "basil and tomato fairy" left some garden-ripened tomatoes and fresh basil on our doorstep earlier today so we decided on a simple mozarella, tomato and basil pizza and a light Greek pizza with calamata olives, tomatoes, olive oil, onions, garlic, red pepper and feta cheese. YUUUUUUMMMMM!




And the Game: Awesome! Phillies kicked the Rockies out of town in a shutout (7-0... yeah.)

A Cemetery... at Night... and a 911 Call.

WARNING: this is a very sarcastic post.

Yesterday afternoon, Juan and I decided to go do some genealogy research at some cemeteries in Philadelphia; my grandmother had sent me some names of ancestors to search for (dating back to the 1800s) and some possible locations of their gravestones. We left around 6:30, hoping to be back home by 8:00 so we could chat with our families via webcam.

After arriving at the first place on our route, we realized it was not going to be that easy.

The church looked very abandoned and there was no way we were going to be able to get into the lot by driving, so we searched for a back entrance. We lucked out and found the alley that led to the back of the church. When we arrived to what was supposedly the grounds where my relatives' graves were, we saw nothing but a dense carpet of greenery. It was like a jungle in there. We searched and searched for any signs of graves, but it wasn't long before we knew there would be no way to tell unless we forged through the thick vines on foot. We weren't about to do that because we're not that adventurous, so we drove around the block until we found someone who looked "old-timey" enough to tell us where the cemetery was. He said that the city relocated a bunch of headstones to a different cemetery when he was a kid, probably about 60 years ago.

Just our luck.

Oh well, we had another cemetery to visit, so we got on our way. This is where the juicy part of the story begins...

We found the cemetery in good time and were surprised at how stately and well-maintained it was. We drove right on through the gates and started our search for the West, Shepherd, and Hudson family headstones. Juan spotted some Hudson and West gravestones pretty quickly and we excitedly copied the information and took pictures of the markers. After another 45 minutes of searching, we decided that it was going to get dark soon and we were hungry for dinner (we had eaten a late lunch.) Juan drove back through the cemetery the way we had entered and pulled up to the gate around 8:00 pm.

The gate was closed and someone had locked us in.

What do you do in a situation like that? Well, we decided there was probably another way out, so we drove around the vast grounds for another 15 minutes, until we realized there was NOT another exit. Next step: call the grounds office, as there was not a soul in sight (ha ha ha... cemetery... soul...!) After doing a Google search for the number on our cell phones (technology is amazing), we called and were answered with a voicemail machine. It was around this point in time that I started thinking that we were going to have to call 911, but Juan kept his cool. We drove back to the gate and spotted an alarm company sign, bearing a faded phone number. Juan called the number, and was told by the nice recorded voice that the line had been disconnected. We drove back to the office (which was closed until 9 the next morning) and found another alarm company sign with a different phone number. This proved to be more helpful and after Juan was answered by an actual person, we knew that it was a more promising possibility that we would break free from the cemetery that night. The operator told us that she would contact the curators and tell them the situation. She called back in 10 minutes and told us that they were sending someone right away.

So we waited. Patiently.

30 minutes later, we decided that they weren't coming, so we called the alarm company again. They tried calling the curator again; after another 10 minutes, they called us back and told us that someone had been sent 15 minutes ago to open the gate. Well, this was 45 minutes after the original phone call, so we were skeptical and getting more and more frustrated.

An hour had passed since the time we had pulled up to the gate, and the Chavez family was not in good spirits. What had started as a quick family search, was turning out to be a slew of sarcastic remarks. Luckily, Siena had remained calm the whole time... which was surprising because she was probably starving. While waiting, we had raided the little tupperware of cereal I keep in my bag for her. She was so kind to share with mami and papi, and she didn't complain when we sneaked another bite.

Eventually, we decided that we should call the Philadelphia Police Department, and after another Google search, we retreived that number (or what we thought to be that number.) A voice recording of Mayor Nutter's voice came on. No, that was NOT the Philadelphia Police Department's number. So we tried a different phone number. This time, someone answered, but he did not sound like he was in a big hurry to help. After asking us a lot of details about our story and situation, he told us that he couldn't do anything for us, but that he would transfer us to 911.

After all that, it just took a 911 call from the beginning?

Well, even that turned out to be fruitless. I was transferred from dispatcher to dispatcher, until the third time when someone finally decided to take on the "cemetery girl" assignment. The funny thing is that the dispatchers whom I had previously spoken with were still on the line, in our conversation. Ten minutes into our phone call, I started showing signs of my frustration over the phone. These two or three women were gettin' all up in my grill with questions like "Well, why didn't you tell someone you were going there?" (Like that would have made a difference. We did tell someone... our families... in Utah.) "Who do you think locked you in?" (The boogie man.) "Why would you even go inside a cemetery?" (And when I used the word 'ancestors', they didn't understand what that meant. When I finally used the word 'relatives', they started to catch on. Come on people, cemeteries are not just about ghosts and goblins.) "Didn't you see the sign with the Hours of Operation?" (No, there was NOT a sign ANYWHERE telling us that at if we weren't out by 8:00 pm, we would have to spend the night there. No signs, and nobody responsible enough to check to see if anyone was still inside the grounds before they locked the gates.) This was my favorite question: "Well, what are you doing in a cemetery so late at night?" (Uh, it's been an hour and 15 minutes since we went to leave the place. It wasn't late an hour and 15 minutes ago when they locked us in.) I was still answering ridiculous questions like this when out of nowhere, a man casually walked up to the gate with a key in his hand and unlocks the gate. No questions, no apologies, no explanations. He just opened the gate, and we drove out without a single exchange of words.

In the meantime, I had told the 911 ladies that I was going to set the whole cemetery on fire so someone would finally come to our rescue. And if that didn't work, I would probably call the local news.

Okay, I didn't really do that. But it was my next option.

Four days ago, my cousin unexpectedly passed away. After so many years since my last experience with death (I was 8 years old,) I found it difficult to interpret my emotions. After a lot of introspect and pondering on the subject, I feel to share my recent thoughts on our loss. For anyone who has recently, or even not-so-recently lost a loved one, I offer my empathy and hope that the scars from the pain are now beautiful reminders of life's lessons.

You can read about Jeff here and here. Please keep his family in your prayers and show love to your own because you never know when one's time here will come to an end.

Zzzzzz

Lately, Siena has been getting out of bed after every nap and at bedtime to set up camp at the base of her door. This is how we know if she's asleep or not:

If the hand retracts after being poked, she's still awake; if it doesn't move, she's asleep.