Lost

This snowfall has really made me want to get back to Brundage to get some snowboarding in!  
We took my board and HH's skiis to Covey's Bike Shop this weekend to get them all tuned up and waxed!  

I was reading a story about a couple in my area that went hunting and ended up lost.  How scary, cold and dark.  Has this ever happened to you?

It has to me.

Here's my story.

The year was probably 1998ish, and we were in McCall, our usual winter hangout.  My brother, mom, dad and I were up on the mountain skiing and snowboarding. Business as usual.  The plan was always to meet at the lodge around 3:30pm to head back to the condo.

Around 2:30 my brother and I decided to be a little rebellious and snowboard out of bounds.  We knew the mountain like the back of our hands, so we weren't too worried about it.  Honestly we weren't worried at all.  We knew the run "Temptation" (hmm interesting name) hooked a right at the end and takes you right to the lift, so we went for it, knowing we would cut back across a little ways down.  Oh, and I need to mention this: the powder out of bounds was FAB.U.LOUS. seriously the best snowboarding ever. What's the worst that could happen? (as my Mom would say)

We realized we were a tad off course when we got to an old logging road.  My brother turned to me and said, "I think we should get off our boards and start walking this way, because its now 3:30 and Mom and Dad are going to start to wonder where we are."  Wait. 3:30???? You mean we've been snowboarding for AN HOUR!?!?!  Yikes.  But then he said, "Either that, or we could just keep going and end up on the main road and hitch a ride back to the lodge. I don't care. You decide."

"Oh gee thanks Zach, leave it up to me, so if we end up lost, you can blame me"

"Yep.  Pretty much"

This was not the exact conversation, but extremely close.  So "I" decided to keep snowboarding for a couple reasons.
1. Taking the board off and walking through deep snow didn't sound like fun at all.
2. Snowboarding in powder is a ton of fun.

I think when we crossed a creek we realized our plans weren't going as imagined.  Literally crossed a creek of running water in my snowboard boots.  Oh and by this time, we had probably taken off our boards 3 or 4 times trying to navigate this mountain.

By this time, we knew Mom and Dad were freakin.  It had to of been 4pm by that time, and the mountain was either closed or just about to.  So our new plan was to hike up the tallest mountain to use my brother's Nokia.  (ya know the ones that had Snake on it)

So thats what we did.  We hiked.  And hiked.  In, no joke, over 8 ft of deep powder.  So picture this:  my brother in front of me, pushing his board in front of him, taking one step, having to pull his whole leg out of that step, repeat.  Me then behind him, pushing my board in front of me, trying to use his same holes to put my legs into.  This caused great groin pain and soaking wet pants and gloves.

We finally reached the top and my brother had service!  So we called the mountain and of course my parents had already called the search team and reported us missing.  Well, usually when we go out of bounds, we are on the Hidden Valley side of the mountain, and this time we were completely opposite of that spot.  So the initial search and rescue team was on the wrong side.  When we called we told them where we were and they sent out one rescue team member out to follow our tracks.

At that point, we decided to hike back down the mountain and up another mountain to sit and wait.  Why?  Because we thought that the logging road we saw up ahead was how they were going to find us with their CAT machine.

So we sat and waited. We sang songs, we talked about what ifs, like, what if we have to spend the night.  My brother said he'd build us a fort, but didn't seem too worried, so I wasn't.  Oh, and besides playing snake on his phone, he actually started calling friends.  "Oh hey!  I'm stranded on the side of a mountain with my sister and the sun's about to go down!  Cool huh?!?!"

I wasn't that worried because of how non worried my brother was.  I honestly felt safe with him.  Strange because now and after we were rescued I realized how scared I should have been.  Well, actually I did start to get scared when the sun was setting because no one had found us yet.

And then we saw this young skiier.  Our rescuer, our hero. He was wearing a fanny pack, which was SUPPOSED to have all sorts of snacks and goodies for us, but all that was left was a few M&Ms. He did give me a pair of extra gloves which was amazing.   He also said this: "Well, that was the best skiing of my life."  I know right?!?!?!

He followed our tracks all the way to us.  Crossed the stream, hiked up and down mountains, skied some more, hiked again.  Now the time was about 7pm.  He said we needed to actually hike BACK DOWN the mountain and up to the logging road we already crossed because the one we were on was so old that big trees had grown and the CAT would not be able to use it.  So we did that and about an hour later the CAT machine met us.  The ride was awesome, but can you believe it took us another hour to get back to the lodge?

I will say I was very happy to see them.  They, on the other hand, were not happy.  They realized that we had been season pass holders since I was probably 3.  And we should have known better.  And that they probably should start charging for rescues.  Honestly, if they would have told my parents it'll be $500 to rescue us, I know they would have paid :)

So now, there is a charge AND there is a bright yellow sign stuck in the ground right where we headed off track.

I don't think I've ever scared my parents that bad.  They were so frantic when we saw them finally at 10pm.  I felt terrible for making them worry so badly, especially over something we could have done differently.  I will say that my groin muscles were completely pulled and I couldn't really do much for the next two or three days.  I was exhausted.  We went back to the mountain a couple days later to give the rescue team a couple fruit baskets, but they were still not happy with us.  I would think they would like the adventure! I know we did.

Robyn Michelle Broyles

Ever met my sister?  No, not that one.  The other one. The other sister. pfff

Her name's Robyn and she's pretty freakin cool.

She was 12 when I was born, making her practically out of my generation.  Lucky for me, she didn't see it that way.    I was 6 when she flew the coop and moved away for college.  That basically means that my memories of us sharing a house are limited, but thats ok, because she made sure we made even better memories.

Memories like taking me to the New Kids on the Block concert in Pullman.  ( I've mentioned this before, but lets revisit that memory.  I honestly thought she spent thousands of dollars to take me to this concert, as it was my absolute favorite band.in.the.world.ever.ever.ever. )

Memories like flying me down to Arizona every single year for my birthday.

Memories like taking me to Mexico for my 19th bday. ( we won't revisit that memory for the sake of my mother)

Memories of moving back to Clarkston *gasp* and having a baby *choking on gasp*.

We've been through a lot as sisters, and I can honestly say living apart for 80% of ours lives has not affected our relationship one bit.

Today's her birthday.  And I've already started out by posting a pic on FB of her when she was probably 18-19,  and she probably got the exact same look on her face when she saw it on her timeline this morning.

Happy Birthday to one of my most favorite human beings that has and will ever roam the Earth.

Zach Sobiech

Two videos this morning had me crying.

How sad would it be if I lost Lola?  In a tornado, wondering if she was alive somewhere, scared, trapped, hurt, or far worse, dead.  And how elated I'd be if I found her. Check the video out here.

However, nothing would compare to that pain if it were my brother or sister.  Lost to cancer.
After I cried about the thought of losing my precious child dog, I saw this video.




Life is really strange.  It teaches us lessons every single day, you just gotta be open and willing to learn.    We are all humans in this crazy world trying to make it work.   Why we don't team up, I'll never know. But if we did, just imagine how much this country, this world, could accomplish.   Spread joy, smiles, kindness, happiness.  Please.  I know I'd much rather see a smiling face from a stranger than mean mug.

thats SEW blake???

Dontcha just love that my blog is called Thats Sew Blake, yet there's but a couple sewing related posts?  Thats sew not cool.

Sew, I'm now going to post some sewing/craft projects that I've been up to.

Lets begin with the most recent project I completed.  Ok, so its the only project I've completed in quite some time. Thats the ambitious procrastinator in me.

It was Mother's Day as we all know this last weekend, and my mother is the best. She really is. I saw all these posts on FB saying their mother was the best, but they haven't either met mine, or are just trying to make their own mother feel really good.

My mom keeps Mother's Day cards, as I'm sure any mother of young children do.  She goes through them each year and reminisces about all the mother's days celebrated and then she cries. Good cries I hope.   I remembered this from last year, so I decided I better step up my game if I wanted my card to be added to the stack of home made cards.

Sew, when I saw this blog, I knew I had to do this for my mom.  How hard could it be?  You poke holes in a card, then take thread and embroider between the holes!!! Plus, she said it would only take 30-45 minutes. She also said if you start it on Saturday night at 10:30 you'd be good to go by the next morning.  Good thing I didn't listen to that part of the advice, because it took me a good 20 minutes to poke all the holes.  Then it took me another 20 minutes to stitch it, then it took me a good 30 minutes to just do the french knots.  Probably because I make my own way of french knotting up. 

Here's the finished product:

I'm the favorite.

REMIXED

Last night the HH and I were having a discussion about life and he said something to the effect of, "everyone's different".  Which sparked his brain to this video.  Its amazing.  I've already watched it 4 times, and probably will watch it 40 more times before I memorize it and sing along and possibly make my own remix.  Well, on second thought, I'll leave that to the experts, and in this case, the experts are PBS.  They've just created this series of remixes that will make you laugh, cry, smile, and feel completely warm inside.   I suggest you start with this one.






And then watch this one.





And then watch this one. 







Am I right, or am I right? 

You're welcome.

Dog Lady

I realized last week that I'm "that guy girl".  I've turned into this person rather quickly and I'm not ashamed.  I'm the canine version of the cat lady.  Not because I have a million dogs hanging out on my front porch and in my laundry shoot, but because I'm utterly and completely obsessed with my dog.

The realization came when pictures were posted of me on facebook. All of them shown here.  Can you see the common theme?

I'm holding my child dog in all of them.  Not because the photographer shouted, "Pick her up!" But because I'm obsessed with my dog.

If you've ever met my dog, you will know she's amazing.  I've had multiple people tell me that she is literally the best dog they've ever known, and I assure you they weren't just telling me this to get on Lola's my good side.

First off, I want to say I may have become obsessed because my biological clock is ticking extremely loud right now and my motherly instincts are in full swing. That and the fact that I was DEATHLY afraid of dogs from age 6-18.  My fear of dogs has come back, but in a completely different way.  Now instead of being afraid that the dog is going to bite/attack me, I'm afraid that the dog is going to attack/kill Lola.   I have nightmares about this scenario.  I have actually stopped walking Lola around my neighborhood because of this fear. (I actually did have a german shepherd sprint from her yard to across the street and tried to attack Lola. But Lola used her best juke moves and avoided her neck being eaten up. That and the fact that she jumped in my arms. See, the constant holding has come in handy for us.)   And if I walk her on the beautiful levee bypass, I'm constantly looking around for dogs to make sure they're on a leach and that their owner has a firm hold. (which surprisingly a lot of people think their dogs are too good for leashes. me included)

People with human children know their child's every noise, body language and personality better than anyone.  Dogs are no different.  I can read my dog's face and body language to a tee. I know the look she gives me when she has to pee. I know the look when she wants a biscuit.  I know her "I love you so much Mom" face.  I know that after she takes a drink of water within 30 seconds, she'll cough...twice.  I know that when she wakes up, she goes to my side of the bed and rests her head on the bed and as soon as I open my eyes, she'll start wagging her tail in delight that I'm awake.  What I didn't know, is that a dog could turn me into a mothering worry wart.  I guess I know how I'll be someday when I have a human child.

I worry that she's going to choke on rawhides.
I now worry that she needs her anal glands squeezed because she's been chasing her tail a little more than normal.  (which we found out did need to happen, gross as it is.)

See, I told you I'm THAT GUY.

But Lola has to take some responsibility in this too, because if she wasn't the way she was I wouldn't have to be such a worry wart.   If she wasn't so darn human like, I wouldn't be in this frame of mind.

As all dogs do, she has her way of communicating to us.  In the morning, she wakes us up by shaking off and flapping her ears back and forth.  If we don't wake up right after she does it the first time, she'll do it again to let us know she's ready to go out and empty the blad.
She is a major nudger. She will rest her head on your lap for a few minutes just waiting for you to acknowledge her.  She is super sweet.  She loves being right next to me. So much so, that when she lays down, she prefers to be touching me with either her head or her paw.  I swear its because she likes to feel my heartbeat.  See, told you.

I know I'm not alone, because I know plenty of dog obsessed people.  They baby talk their dogs, just as I do.  They give them birthday and Christmas gifts.  They let them lick their faces.  They let them sleep with them in their bed (we don't normally do this, but it occassionaly does happen).  They give them human food.  They leave the TV on when they leave, or in my parents' case, the Christian radio station on. Because you know Miller loves the calming voices. :)  

Speaking of Miller, he's the reason for me morphing from a cat person to a dog person.  Like I revealed earlier, I was deathly afraid of dogs when I was 6.  I was attacked by a neighbor's black lab.  He was a mean ol dog, and I was an innocent girl holding a jump rope.  I was forever changed.  That is until we rescued Miller from the free box at Albertson's.  I was 18 and home for Thanksgiving break from college.  My brother and I were going to the store to get beer I think, or so the story goes.  We were headed back to the car and I turn around and Zach is holding the cutest fur ball I've ever seen.  He barfed on me twice on the way home, and his breath smelled sooo bad.  After going through "beer" names, we decided Miller was the perfect name for this "champagne of dogs".   My mom immediately said we needed to take him back because Zach lived in a tiny apartment in Pullman that didn't allow dogs.  My dad tried to convince my mom that Miller wasn't going to get very big, but anyone that saw his giant paws knew differently.  Zach soon realized he couldn't take care of Miller as much as Miller deserved, so he went on a short "stay" with my parents.  That stay has now lasted 12 years.  You thought I was the youngest Broyles child?  Nope.  Miller has officially taken over that title.  He has a lot of "issues" including being allergic to....wait for it.....GRASS. He also has a little OCD/Anxiety, so he wears a T-shirt whenever we leave him in the house (because we can't stick him in the yard because of his allergies).  But through all the medicine, special food and special attention this guy needs, he has healed me of my debilitating fear.  I can now trust dogs again and not climb up the nearest tall person whenever I see one. (not joking)  He has also made me realize that border collies are the way to go.  They are loyal, sweet, and very smart breeds. 

Miller Boy in his T-shirt.  Soooo stinkin cute.

Chillin

They really do love being around each other. 

Best buds

Hilarious. She loves to lay like this. 

But this was right after we got this bed. 

There you have it.  The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem.  So I guess I'm not quite in recovery yet. I want to be "that girl".  And Lola certainly loves that girl. 

Havin babies

Another warning: This blog is deeply personal and again has nothing to do with sewing and/or crafts. (My palms are sweating right now thinking about pressing publish) I guess its safe to assume that my blog has taken a different road than I originally planned.  This subject has been weighing heavy on my mind and heart, and I feel like after 5+ years its time for me to come clean and be totally honest.  

I've gotten asked around 1000 times (maybe more, seriously) when I'm going to have kids. And 990 of those answers have been a pretty common response to the tune of, "Oh sometime soon I hope!" or "We're still young, we've got time!".  But what I really want to say is that we can't have children unless we spend a lot of money, time and energy.

I feel like thats too long/personal of an answer that will just cause further questioning, going beyond the small talk most people were simply looking for.  For the last 3ish years, I worked with literally hundreds of (baby crazy) women (all in one building), and got the question many times, often from the same women asking me over and over.  One time I just told a girl matter of factly, "I can't have kids". Just to get her off my back.  For some reason, people feel its their business/right to know whether or not you become a parent. Pssst. Its not.

So, I'm here to set the record straight.  I'm no longer going to hide my truth. And that truth is called Huntingtons Disease (HD).  This is a very scary disorder that is only passed on genetically.  Each person affected with the Huntingtons gene has a 50/50 chance of passing it on to each child they have.  So really the only way to stop this gene mutation, is to simply not have kids (as there is no known cure yet).  Unless one goes through IVF and PGD (in-vitro fertilization and pre-implantation genetic diagnosis), which can cost around $20,000 per try. Basically they test the embryos for the genetic mutation, and the ones that do not have it, they implant back into the body in hopes that a pregnancy will continue and the end result would be a 100% HD free baby that is 50% dorky me and 50% hottie hubs.

You see, my incredibly amazing and wonderful husband has HD. I knew this was a possibility before we got married and I remember thinking that I might not be able to have children. But at 22, you feel like you have your whole life ahead of you, and I knew that I wanted to be with my man and nothing was going stop that.

A couple years ago, he decided he wanted to find out for sure.  Mainly because we did want a family in the near future, and we wanted to know before we got pregnant.  We decided that we will not get pregnant naturally to ensure that the HD gene stops here.  I want to be clear that this was our personal decision. A very personal, long debated decision between me and my babe. See, the other side of the coin, is that HD could possibly have a cure before our child will be of the age where HD starts (not until around age 50ish) or better yet, there's the 50% chance our child wouldn't have it at all.

I've heard quite a few times in the past that we shouldn't worry about HD and just have babies.  I soooo wish we could.  But I know that we would have to someday explain to our child that he or she needs to be tested because there is a 50% chance they too may have what their father has.  I would rather explain to my child why we chose adoption, or why we went through IVF to conceive.  This has weighed heavily on my heart for so many years and I've gone back and forth on what to do, and all I can say is that our decision is solely ours. I can completely understand why couples have chosen to have their own children who may be at risk, and in fact I did get pregnant about 5 years ago to have that end in miscarriage. God has a plan, things happen for a reason. Two cliches I do believe in. 

As a perfectly healthy 30 year old, this is extremely hard to grasp. Especially because I always imagined myself with at least 2 kids by this age. (I actually want 4 total!!!) No one every imagines that when they decide to start a family they will have such a giant roadblock.  I've come to realize that infertility is a common problem for many people.  Being able to get pregnant (for free) is a privilege.  Unfortunately, most don't see that. Most accidentally get pregnant and then the decision to become parents has been decided for them.  One of my biggest pet peeves is seeing white trash people having babies they can't/don't want to take care of.  It also bugs the absolute crap out of me when I see people complaining about their kids on FB or to me.  I understand that parenthood has its not-so-fun moments, but there are people out there that would give their entire life savings to have a bad day in parenthood. Me me me, pick me!!!

One reason I have not come right out and blurted to the world my life story is because its an obviously very sensitive subject that my hubby and I share, and I'm not sure I was totally ready before. But education and knowledge is power, and I want to everyone that knows us to know about HD.  The more people know and understand, the closer we can come to a cure.  We need to support the dedicated teams out there right now that are spending their time and energy working on the research for a cure.  I want to spend as many days as God gives me with my man.   

Life is not fair. We all know this.  So far, my life has been nothing but blessed to the max. I had the most amazing childhood, luckier than most.  I got to fly to McCall in my dad's private plane for breakfast (mmm....Those Potatoes).  I've travelled to the Bahamas on a cruise ship, Hawaii, and to Taiwan.  I have parents that are still married and madly in love. I have 3 older siblings that have always wanted to spend time with their much younger sis.  I've been married almost 8 years to my bestfriend from high school (have I mentioned how gorgeous he is?).  I have the most amazing, sweet sweet, precious dog.  So I suppose some wrench needed to be thrown in the mix to bring me back down from cloud nine. 

I'm ready to give people an answer they probably were not expecting the next time I get asked.  I'm ready to spread awareness about HD.  Please consider donating time and/or money to HD events such as the Hog & Grog event held in Lewiston every year, or visit the HDSA website for info/resources/events. My brother-in-law and his wife have also started a non-profit organization called Healing Huntingtons and I encourage you to "like" the page to stay updated.  My family needs your help, as do many many many families out there affected by HD.

Thanks for the support, love, and kind words already given to me and my family.   God is ever present.



My genetically matched partners in crime

Having sisters is fun :)

Don't get me wrong, having a brother can be just as fun, if not more at times (especially if Zach Broyles is your bro).  But this weekend was a rare opportunity for me to spend it with just my sisters.  I'm so freakin lucky/blessed to have such amazing ladies to look up to, talk to, laugh with, swim with, the list could go on. Especially for the crazy busy weekend we had hangin at my parents cabin on Coeur d' Alene lake. 

Saturday was the annual Twin Beaches Triathalon, a fun little bonding day for all the neighbors in our bay.  The first part is a swim (about 1/2 mile), then a fun hike around the bay, then a row back to the beach we originally swam to.  I hadn't done this in so long, I pretty much forgot it all. Especially the swimming section. Its a lot harder/longer than I thought, mostly because its in a lake that gets very choppy.  But my incredible Dad said he was going to swim right along side us three sisters.  How stinkin cute is that?  I saw other dads dive right in and head right to shore.

He's the best!

After the swimming portion of the triathalon

 

Being the youngest of 4 kids is awesome. Especially when your siblings are as cool as mine.

As a little kid around lets say 9, my sisters were 21 and 18.  Many nights were spent crying, wishing my sisters would hang out with me more, live at home longer, and include me in their fun.  But thats just not possible when both are away at college....or is it??? 

Just picture yourself at age 9 hanging in the dorms with cute boys.  That was my life on more than a few occasions.  My parents were very generous by letting me go visit my sisters and stay the weekends with them. They actually wanted me there!  Seriously, how lucky was I?  One weekend, Robyn took me to the NKOTB concert in Pullman and I'm not joking when I said I thought the tickets cost thousands of dollars.  (not until I went to my first concert did I have the moment of price clarity)

She's got a lil Captain in her

My oldest sister Robyn is crazy/wild/sassy. She's 12 years older, but you'd never know it because she looks and can act younger than me at times ;)  When I was 6, she moved out and went to college.  She would write me letters and talk about our boyfriends (both named Chris). When she moved to Phoenix I was 11 and for about 6 years or more, I would fly down there by myself to hang with her.  What mid 20 something wants to hang out with a tweener? Apparently she did, because I'm still flying down there to hang.  We have always had this amazing connection that I know will last forever. And to imagine she wanted to be an only child. HA.

First trip to AZ in 1994. Bought myself those moon shoes. Still own them.

Not sure where my pants are. I must've hopped right out of em.

On my way back home.....with my shoes for the moon.

Lets not talk about my haircut. Thanks

Robyn, Darcie, me and Katie in AZ for my sis's 40th.

Betsey is my 2nd oldest sister, 9 years older than me. She was more the crawl into her bed and snuggle/talk about deep stuff kind of sister.  When I was born my two sisters made a deal about my gender, and if I was a girl I would share a room with Betsey when I was old enough.  Lucky her!  She moved to college when I was 9 and wrote me letters constantly.  I still have all those letters (from both sisters). She made me feel so important in her life and also invited me up to hang with her by myself.  We have identical hands and feet, and if I didn't drink beer, I would be the exact same size as her.

Probably my favorite pic of us

Youme eyes

Bets (Zoey in her belly), Mom and me at the cabin

King and Queen McDorkus

Back to the weekend: They both have kids now, and so their attention is spread thinner, but they still had time to sit on the beach and talk.  Robyn's boy Phoenix has a brand new iPad which he's navigating like a pro already.  We took pictures all weekend with that thing using the different distortions.  My abs still hurt from laughing so hard.  Just hearing him laugh (to the point of giving himself hiccups) and watching Robyn be a (amazing) mom to him is priceless.  Betsey has 3 kids and they are all so much fun. Thankfully they now live 2 hours away so they can know their Auntie Blake and Uncle Rodney much better.

Sisters plus Mom and Phoenix during the triathalon

Hangin on the cabin porch swing a few years ago

2009ish? Christmas picture. Great posture people!

Cabin fun with fireworks!!! Zach's eyes cross when they pyro comes out.

Zach is my older brother. 5 years older. We were buddies, mostly just around each other. If my parents or siblings were around, we were constantly bickering.  And although sometimes he wouldn't acknowledge my existence around his friends, I knew how much he loved hanging out with me.  Saturday mornings were spent watching TV in forts that he made, eating breakfast that he made.  If you've ever been embarrassed by my potty humor, just blame Zach.  We've been through so many crazy times together, including being stranded for 8 hours in the snowy mountains wondering when we'd be rescued.  I can't tell you everything we've gone through together ;) but I can tell you he's looked out for me as any best brother would.  He's the Harry to my Lloyd, the Ren to my Stimpy.

"Hey. Lets do that 1/2 eye open look everyone loves"

Inappropriate? Maybe.

"I'm scared Becka"

I treasure the rare moments we're all together because R lives in Arizona, B in Spokane, Z in Vegas, and me in LCV.  It doesn't happen but maybe once a year and I want nothing more than time to stand still.

Moment to be treasured. Clothes not to be treasured.

Siblings and brother in law at my Jr.Miss

(they all flew in an surprised me!)

Going through all these non digital pics took me back to all the crazy times we've had together so far in our lives. Thanks for being such supportive, loving, fun siblings. And thanks to my parents for having us!!!!