What do your kiddos eat?

One of the things that I never anticipated about motherhood is that nagging, incessant instinct to want to continually feed my kiddo.  I am always worried, Is he eating enough?  Is he getting enough fruits and vegetables?  Is he eating too much sugar?

I'm sure these questions don't surprise the seasoned mother.  I worry that Dylan is too skinny and that his daily PB&J intake is way too high.  I offer him new foods all the time, with about a five percent success rate.  That means with about every 100 new foods, new meals that I offer him, Dylan will eat around 5 of them.  And by eat, I mean he'll try them... most of the time spitting them out and making a funny face.

Dylan, on a really good day, will eat eggs & toast or pancakes for breakfast,
PB&J for lunch,
Maybe a tiny bit of chicken for dinner... maybe.  And strawberry milk.
And some fruit or crackers for snack.

I try not to get discouraged.  I know I'm not the only mother out there with a picky eater.  But sometimes it can get a bit overwhelming preparing snacks and meals that repeatedly get turned away.  I am continually reading up on advice online and I have seen the same things repeated over and over.  "Kids will eat when they're hungry."  "Refined sugars are horrible for them."  "No fast food!"  And the classic, "My kids only eat what we eat because we don't give them another option."

That is all fine and good for some parents, but I am also a strong advocate for the principal that every child is different and, therefore, may have different tastes, needs, etc.  And I also believe that some things are okay in moderation.  And, yes, I am talking about the occasional McDonald's nuggets and over-processed, refined, sugariest of the sugary snacks.

Sometimes life is busy and we are a lucky generation that we have that last resort fast food to fall back on in case we are out running errands when our kids start fussing and we forgot to pack their favorite crackers.  Or that package of artificially-flavored fruit snacks that don't have one natural ingredient in them can also come in handy when we are at the store or the post office or we just need them to be quiet and pre-occupied for a few minutes.  I am certainly not above these things.

However, when we are at home, as we often are, I do like to keep it on the "healthier" end of the spectrum.  But when I am thinking about what to prepare for dinner, I often get overwhelmed and frustrated at the prospect of making another Mommy-fail of a meal.  So I am always open to advice, particularly kid-friendly recipes.  Like I said, I do a lot of online research, but I would love to hear from other parents as well.  Especially from you...

I am curious.  What do your kiddos eat on a typical day?  Do they eat three square meals?  Or are they grazers?  Do they eat, or at least try, everything offered to them?  Does texture bother them?  Do they have any quirks or food sensitivities?  Can their sliced apples touch their macaroni and cheese on their plate or will that trigger a complete meltdown?  Do they eat at the table?  What is your favorite memory, involving food, of your child?

I want to hear about it!  I want to hear your advice, your success stories, your epic kitchen fails, your kid-friendly recipes, your stories!  I am always open to a good discussion.  I love hearing from other parents.  So please comment, either here on the blog or on Facebook and tell me, What do your kiddos eat?

Dylan's first solid food feeding.
He seemed more inclined to appease us back then when his food only consisted of breast-milk mixed with baby cereal.

The Conclusion to Dempsey Mining 2012: Part Two

David and Danielle Dempsey had spent their first few years of life on a gold mine. Valdez, Alaska was no stranger to them, but their memories of the place and of Dempsey Mining and Construction (1986-1991) were blurry and child-like.  Dave recalls the wildlife and playing with his Tonka's in the Mineral Creek gravel.  Dani doesn't remember much at all until the later years when she was seven and spent the summer on the mine.  However, they had heard the stories told by their parents so many times that they knew of the hard work and ruthless weather that they had to endure just to put food on the table and a roof over their heads.

They also had learned not to romanticize the profession.  Even I had come to understand that notion after marrying into the family and hearing their stories.  Sure, gold mining has it's moments.  There is the gold fever; that first glisten in the pan, the luster of a nugget peaking out from the ripples of the sluice box, and there is the excitement and adventure of the find.  And, of course, there is the time spent with family, the great outdoors, and the prospect of memories and treasures so rare that no amount of story-telling or picture-taking could do them justice.  Yes, those moments, those precious instances that can be over in a season, or in an afternoon, or in a heartbeat, are the reasons that we gold mine.

But one also has to be realistic and remember the enormous amount of difficulty required of such an operation.  Dempsey Mining season 2012 was one filled with considerable bumps, bruises, and mechanical mishaps.  Then there was the grueling hours, the close quarters, and the extreme weather.  We all also had to understand that the success of a season relied on three things and three things only.

One: That we find some gold.  Two: That we sell some gold and make a profit... or at least break even.  And Three:  That we all make it out of there alive and in one piece.

Well, as Dave and Dani stared down into the landslide that fateful 2012 fall morning, they knew that the first two concerns on the road to success had been taken care of.  But the third and final piece of the puzzle had seemed to crumble before their eyes and was now being washed down the enormous creek-turned-river.  And what little was left of their optimism and their spirit was quickly being pulled away with it.

Danielle couldn't control it.  There had been so many reasons to cry that summer, and a few of us did.  But Dani had impressed us all with her work ethic and her tough, get-it-done attitude.  But at the end of the season she was done, she was worn out, she was beyond ready for her home, for her bed, and for her husband.  She wanted to get the hell out of there.

So, now, when it looked like none of that was within her grasp, she could no longer keep the emotions at bay.  There was no stopping the anxiety, the panic that seemed to be consuming her body.  She bent over and began to dry-heave.  Her breath was short and quick and followed by violent expulsions of air.

David, still shocked at the sight of the missing road, stumbled on his words as he tried to console her.  "It's okay. It's okay." he said, patting her back.  But it wasn't okay.  He was playing out the possible scenarios in his head, all the while thinking, What the hell are we going to do?  What the hell are we going to do...now? We are going to need help.  But who could help this?

My nephew, Jesse, standing on the road in the infamous
"rockslide section," months before the flood.

The missing "rockslide section" after the flood.

Remember, there had been emergency evacuations occurring all over the state that week.  And as the rain kept coming down, it looked as though there was a strong possibility that I was going to see David, Rita, Danielle, Uncle Mike, and Aunt Peggy on the news, being airlifted to safety.  There was a strong possibility that all of our campers, all of our equipment, worth thousands and thousands of dollars, would have to be abandoned and lost in Valdez's unforgiving mountain winters.

Dave was considering these scenarios, while consoling Dani, and staring into the abyss, and repeatedly thinking, We are going to need help.  And as he stared across the vast, 100 yard gap, right then, at that moment, help arrived.

Dan Dempsey was standing on the opposite side of the opening with a loader and a rope in his hand, waving to them.  John Perry, the mine claim owner, was with him.  Dave and Dani couldn't help but feel a slight relief at the sight of him.  Dad is here.  And, although they didn't know his plan yet, they knew that if anybody was capable of a rescue job, it was Dan Dempsey.  We don't call him Doctor Dan for nothing.

He was shouting but no one could hear him across the gaping hole and the roaring river.  He motioned to Dave and Danielle that he was going to climb over to them with the help of Dave on the other end of the rope.

Both Dave and Dan jumped into action and found a thick section of alders against the bluff on either side of the landslide.  They began to climb, using the alders for support.  Danielle and John Perry watched as Dave and Dan disappeared into the alders, into the mountain above.  Several minutes passed by before they spotted them again near the top, scaling across the bluff towards each other.  They met halfway, and supported each other, each on the end of a rope, father and son, back across the muddy mountainside.

Dani couldn't help but feel nervous when she and John Perry lost sight of them again.  They were, after all, on the side of a rapidly eroding mountain.  She and JP would exchange shrugs across the gap as they peered up into the rain-soaked slope, searching for Dave and Dan.  When they finally saw them again, an entire half hour had passed since Dave had left her side.  They appeared out of the alders and made their way to the north end of the road.

As soon as their feet hit the ground, Doctor Dan wasted no time in informing them of his plan.  He was going to get the excavator and rebuild the road.  Dani was going to stay with him, radio in hand, and alert him of any falling boulders or major landslides headed his way.  Dave was going to move the rest of the crew and the equipment across the creek and have everything lined up, staged, and ready to drive the rest of the road as soon as Dan achieved the impossible and repaired the enormous missing gap.  There was no time to waste.  So the three of them immediately went on to their separate jobs and did exactly as Dan instructed.

They all worked, long into the night, under the watchful eye of claim owner John Perry.  He later informed us that he had the number of a helicopter waiting to be dialed in case the entire plan went awry.  Dan drove the excavator to the edge of the hole and began digging into the bank and dumping mud below him.  Danielle radioed Dan each time a large boulder or significant slide came down, each time bracing herself for "the big one."  Dan would strategically move the excavator out of the way then back again when the slide had ceased and continued digging.  Dave rounded up the rest of the crew and continued the creek crossing.  They staged each vehicle, each camper, and each piece of equipment in a line, ready for takeoff.

Dan rebuilds the road as Dave and Uncle Mike watch for landslides.
This photo was taken by claim owner, John Perry, on the opposite side.

Right when Dave, Rita, Uncle Mike, and Aunt Peggy had pulled the last fifth wheel across, the sun had long been set, and Dan had finally decided to call it quits for the day.  He parked the excavator, and he and Dani said goodnight to John Perry, who retired to sleep in his truck on the opposite side of the gap.   Then the entire crew retreated to their campers once more for a worried night of sleep.

The next day they woke tired, but ready.  So far, the road that Dan was building was standing the test of time.  The mud, for some reason, was cooperating and stacking vertically below him.  And the mud above the crew was staying intact and any major landslides had come to a halt.  For now.  They all knew that time was of the essence, and since the rain showed no sign of stopping, they set to work on the road.

Dan continued to dig into the bank and drop the mud 100 feet beneath him, slowly filling the 100 yard gap.  Dave kept watch on the rocks and landslides and radioed each time one headed Dan's way.  The rest of the crew readied themselves and prayed.

Meanwhile, the Dempsey-May's on this end also prayed.  We had received a few, static-filled phone calls.  We were aware of their situation and we were ready for the worst.  But we, like the crew, were also very aware of Dan's capabilities.  During one conversation with Uncle Jeff, he said, "They'll be fine.  They've got Dan there."  And I agreed.

So we waited for the next phone call and the Dempsey Mining crew worked rigorously to make the impossible happen.  Any nerves that needed soothing were treated with the smaller comforts they could find.  A positive thought, a hug, some food, and a small sip of Jameson from time to time, worked wonders for the battered and beaten crew.

By 5 o'clock that evening, it happened.  Dan put the last scoop of dirt in it's place, tracked it over with the excavator, and gave the go-ahead for the crew to follow with the campers and equipment.  Everyone immediately fell in line and, knowing that they weren't quite out of the woods yet, began the slow trek across Doctor Dan's miracle makeshift road.

Doctor Dan's miracle makeshift road.

It was a slow and arduous process, filled with steep drop-offs, close calls, and a lot of anxiety.  The wide loads came across the road with no room to spare on either side.  The Dempsey Mining crew drove and prayed that the road wouldn't give way beneath them and that the mud above them would continue to hang on for just a few more hours.  Each vehicle, each piece, including four campers, a loader, an excavator, a dump truck, a water pump, a trommel, a mill truck with a trailer, and an enclosed trailer all made it across safely.  And, more importantly, so did the Dempsey Mining crew.

By dark they were all on the south side of the gap, away from the enormous abyss that nearly swallowed them whole, and they were driving their campers and equipment to a quieter, safer part of the road known as Macintosh.  They set up camp, called us Dempsey-May's in Anchorage and Wasilla and informed us of their success.  Somehow, some way, they had achieved the impossible and had gotten out of there alive... and with all of their equipment to boot!

The third piece of the successful mining puzzle had fallen into place.  Dempsey Mining Season 2012: A Success!

The crew carried on for three more days, making multiple trips to Glennallen with campers and equipment.  They were exhausted.  But they knew that if the Mineral Creek hell-road hadn't brought them down then nothing else could, even when they pulled into Dan and Rita's driveway and an absurd comedy of errors ensued.

Perhaps it was the exhaustion or the worn out nerves, or because God knew we'd need something to laugh about later, but the circus began when Dani, drove our red truck, towing the Free Spirit, all the way from Valdez to the Glennallen Dempsey compound.

When she arrived, she accidentally turned the truck too sharply and the top of the fifth wheel rammed into it, breaking out it's back window.  Having met Daniel in Valdez, she had him make the call to Dave.  He wasn't too far behind on the Richardson Highway when Daniel broke the news to him about his red, Ford baby. To their surprise, Dave took the news well and said not to sweat it.  After all, they had survived the last few days and that's all that mattered.

But upon Dave's arrival, he couldn't help but be distracted by the sight of his truck parked in the Dempsey yard.  He was driving Dan and Rita's white truck, towing their fifth wheel.  As he glanced at the red Ford, trying to make out just how bad the back window looked, he wasn't paying attention to his own driving and he managed to drive Dan and Rita's fifth wheel right into the house deck.

Well, needless to say, he was pissed at himself.  He yelled and cursed and mentally kicked himself for the rest of the night.  Meanwhile, Dan hopped into the driver's seat and, trying to get the fifth wheel unhooked from the deck, he had to turn the truck at a 90 degrees angle.  So, inevitably, his back window also fell victim to a sharply turned fifth wheel.

By this time, Rita and Dani, had called me and informed me of their safe arrival home.  They relayed, with an almost giddy attitude and jovial giggles, that the trucks were missing their back windows and Dan and Rita's camper was missing a chunk of it's side.  But they didn't care.  They were warm and dry for the first time in days.  They were alive.  And they were home.

I laughed with them and understood their great sense of relief.  It was wonderful to hear their voices.  And when Dave arrived at our Anchorage home the next day, I could see the relief in him as well.  He played with Dylan and Keiser and soaked up the comforts of home.  We had dinner, cocktails, and we talked late into the night about his past week from hell, and how we, Dempsey Mining, would Never. Ever. Mine In Valdez.  Ever. Again.

Well, never say never, folks.

Dempsey Mining Season 2013 is about to commence in Mineral Creek, Valdez, Alaska.  What can I say?  There's no cure for gold fever.

The Conclusion to Dempsey Mining 2012: Part One

Brevier Creek reminding us who's boss.

Dempsey Mining 2012 came to a close in September 2012.  My absence from this blog, whether a conscious decision or not, began near the end of our season and continued until now when I finally felt that I was ready to re-visit the unsettling events that unfolded during the final weeks of our gold-hunt.  As a crew, we have all had difficulty discussing our first, and perhaps the most grueling, season.  I hadn't even looked at most of the final pictures until today, nearly eight months later.

I am not exaggerating when I say that everyone was lucky to walk away from camp with their lives.  And among our blessings, a miracle if you ask me, we still had our campers, equipment, and gold.  Spirits had hit an all time low in those final weeks and everyone's safety began to be questioned.  Alaska had record amounts of rain and, being that we were seven miles deep in the heart of Valdez backcountry, the entire camp nearly fell victim to it's floodwaters.

Both Brevier and Mineral creeks had become roaring rivers that did not give a second glance to what lay in their path.  And the rain never stopped, it was unrelenting.  And it descended from the sky bearing a message from Mother Nature herself.  It was loud and clear that we had overstayed our welcome.  It was time to leave her backcountry.  Now.

Gold or not, she said.  Winter is on its way.

And left we did.  We arrived home intact, but not unscathed.  We had been chewed up and spit out and unable to even think about mining for several weeks.  So that is why I haven't written to tell you about our final weeks until now.  Sorry to my readers who have been wondering if we were still alive or if I was still on my August "Mom's Weekend."  But I am ready to tell you now.  So here it is.  The conclusion to Dempsey Mining 2012:



I suppose mining was easy... for me.  Especially compared to the trials and tribulations that the rest of the crew endured.  Dylan and I left early during those last couple of weeks in September and returned home to recoup from our various, reoccurring illnesses.  We curled up in our warm home, away from the rain, and slept and ate for the better part of a week while our bodies regained strength and energy.  Luckily, we were in Anchorage, 300 road miles away from any of the danger that the Dempsey crew was facing in Valdez.  I felt warm and cozy and deliciously spoiled in my bed, but I certainly wasn't oblivious to the goings-on in Mineral Creek.

The news was filled with warnings.  Record amounts of rain was falling all over the state and people were being evacuated out of their homes in Talkeetna and Wasilla.  Footage of houses floating down roaring rivers that had once been tiny streams were posted all over the television and internet.  The railroad traffic came to a halt as the Gold Creek Bridge washed out.  Sections of the Richardson and Denali Highways were closed due to flood warnings.  The Kenai Peninsula Borough declared a state of emergency.

And the Dempsey's-May's on this end, (Grandma Buddy, Uncle Jeff, Aunt Lisa, Dylan and I), just sat and waited.  Once a day we would receive a phone call from the crew at Mineral Creek to update us.  At first the rain caused some minor mishaps; a few leaks in the campers, the creek crossing had become more difficult, as did some really wet, cranky workers.  Dan was working in town at CVEA and returning to camp in the evenings.  He and David were discussing when to pack up and leave camp, how the creek crossing would be, and in what order to complete each task.  But nothing in their tone gave me cause to worry.

Brevier Creek crossing during
tamer, pre-flood days.

Brevier Creek crossing during
beginning of flood.

Then the mishaps started to become bothersome.  One phone call informed us that an entirely new waterfall had sprung loose behind the campers.  It was large and widespread and seemed to appear out of nowhere.  There had been puddles surrounding the campers before, but now there was a pool.  Then the phone calls became more frequent and news of Brevier Creek tripling in size and nearly washing away the water pump reached our ears.  Not far from the water pump, lay our excavator, our loader, our dump truck, and our enclosed trailer.

Grandma Buddy called me afterwards.

"I think they need to get out of there, don't you?"  She said, careful not to sound too alarmed.

"Yes I do, Bud.  I'm worried."  She agreed and I promised to call her with each update.  Grandma Buddy is the wisest woman I know.  She can sense things, good or bad.  She can see trouble coming from a mile away.  And when Buddy says its time to leave, that means the party was over hours ago.

After speaking to the crew that evening, it was clear that they had gotten the message too.  They decided to pack everything up and prepare our campers and all of the equipment to cross the creek the next day.  Dan had driven to town for work, saying that he would be back the next morning with a loader to help clear the road of any fallen rocks.  That night after most of the packing had been done, the remaining crew had a few sips of Jameson to calm the nerves and laid their weary heads to rest on their pillows, while their ears stayed tuned in to every raindrop, every falling rock from the mountains above, and prayed that God would keep mother nature at bay for just one more day.

The next morning, they woke and began the creek crossing process.  By mid-afternoon, they were eager for Dan to arrive but they hadn't seen any sign of him yet.  Dave and Dani decided to take the six wheeler up the road a bit to check on his status and make sure he wasn't stuck behind any large boulders.  I'm not sure that anything, not even our crazy season from hell, could prepare them for what lie ahead.

Before I go any further, I would like to remind you that the crew was well-informed of the events occurring around the rest of the state of Alaska.  Words like, warning, and emergency, and evacuation, were at the fore-front of their minds.  I would also like to remind you that several of them, Danielle in particular, had been at this mine-site without more than a few hours break the entire summer.  There had been no phone, no internet, and, besides the rare trip to town, there had been no communication with the outside world.  A safe return home was not only desired, it was yearned for and prayed over.  The Dempsey Mining crew was done.  And all that lay between them and their coveted beds was that damned seven mile road.

So, Dave and Dani jumped on the six-wheeler, and left to check on their Dad, expecting to find him clearing the last few boulders out of the way, giving them the ultimate go-ahead to bring everybody and everything out of the mine.  But as soon as they rounded the corner to the infamous "rockslide section" (as we like to call it), any spirit that was left in them, any dream that they would soon be eating a hot meal in the comfort of their own homes, was thoroughly crushed.

Instead David and Danielle were met with a paralyzing sight.  Instinct took hold, and Dave immediately gripped the brake of the six-wheeler.  They got off the vehicle and cautiously walked to the edge of the earth and peered over the 100 foot gaping hole into the roaring river below... where Mineral Creek Road used to be.

Stay tuned for Part Two....

Mom's Weekend!

Stace, Ko, and I get some much-needed Mommy time

Who needs therapy, spa days, or tropical vacations when you've got Pinot Noir, Alaska mountains, and some of the best girls in the world? I had a fantastic weekend campout with some of my besties at Eklutna Lake.

No babies. No cooking. No dishes. And, perhaps best of all, no early morning. Just fire, fresh air, and lots of laughs.

Jose, thanks for being a hero and watching my lil' guy. Dylan thinks Uncle Jose is the coolest. And to the girls who were missing this weekend, (Ahem, Sara!), I am always down to do it again. I heart my ladies. And I heart Mom's Weekend.

12 Years Ago Today...

Twelve years ago today, I married my best friend.  We were young, very young, only 18 in fact.  But we were romantics and we knew that love had no boundaries, no restrictions, and no age limits.  Our families were shocked by our decision as we had only just graduated from high school a few months earlier.  But after many discussions, much advice, and many, Are you sure?'s, they remained supportive in every way they could be and joined us on the big day our life began together.

We had decided to marry in the Glennallen Courthouse and wait to have our wedding in December when our entire wedding party would be home for Christmas break.  So on the morning of August 21, 2000, I woke up as a single girl in my parent's home for the very last time.  As I began to ready myself for the big events of the day, the phone rang and I was greeted by the charming, sweet voice that I had fallen in love with on the the other end of the line.

"Hey ugly," Dave teased.  I smirked.  He was always a comedian and a jovial kind of guy.  That was one of the many things I loved about him.  "Whad'ya say we go on down to the courthouse and get hitched?"  I laughed.  Of course, the ceremony had already been planned and booked, but we had a habit of practicing playful sarcasm.  It always served as a good ice breaker, particularly during major events that can make even the calmest person nervous.  You know, events that seem larger than yourself, events that will undoubtedly change the rest of your life, events much like an 18 year old girl's wedding day.

Dave's wisecracks and tactical use of irony always made me chuckle and never ceased to calm my nerves.  I teased him back and said, "I'll meet you at the courthouse at 1.  Don't be late.  I'll be the one not wearing white."  He laughed.  We said our 'I love you's' and hung up the phone.

When we arrived, we were met with our close family and a few select close friends.  Being that Glennallen is such a small town, the magistrate that was performing the ceremony knew us very well.  And she shared with us that it just happened to be the date of her own wedding anniversary.  Then she asked us to join hands and repeat our vows to each other.  Then she began to cry.  And our mom's began to cry.  And I was holding it together, until I noticed that even my Dad was beginning to cry.

Much of what was said is still a blur to me to this day.  Those of you who have been through your own wedding, probably know exactly what I'm talking about.  There is an array of different feelings and emotions; bliss, anxiety, eagerness, sentimentality and, of course, overpowering, unconditional love.  And you know that that moment, that day would be the launch point for something significant and extraordinary, for your own grand, epic adventure... with your BFF.

And an adventure it has been!  From the moment our teary magistrate pronounced us husband and wife, we embarked on a great journey.  We moved from Glennallen to Anchorage, to college, to a career in Prudhoe Bay, to Portland (college again), to our cabin in the woods, and back to Anchorage.  We have become avid fans of exploring Alaska and traveling the country and the world.  We have enjoyed many great, life-changing friendships.  We have celebrated the gift of life and we have consoled each other through death.  We love to make each other laugh, but we are not above the occasional healthy argument.  And we have recently embarked on perhaps the most exciting journey of all; parenthood!

I am blessed to have such a beautiful life and such a beautiful partner to share it with.  Twelve years ago today, I couldn't have begun to guess how any of this journey would go.  But I knew for sure that unconditional love also meant a life without limits.  And so we said, 'I do', and away we went.  I have loved, cherished, absolutely adored, every single minute.  And I look forward to so many more.  Happy anniversary to my husband, David Dempsey.  You are everything I always wanted.  And so much more.  Cheers to the rest of our adventure!

Goofing off on our wedding day

French Toast Friday

It's French Toast Friday!  That's how we roll in the Dempsey house.  I have been avoiding carbs all week as I have been working on some of that unwanted bulge that I think nearly every Mommy battles.  But this morning, bread and sugary syrup were my allies.  And coffee was my friend.  Best friend.

Yesterday was a challenging day.  One of those where you know as soon as you see your kiddo that they woke up on the wrong side of the crib and they are not going to let you get anything done.  Nor do they want your snuggles, or for you to read to them, or for you to help them stack blocks or help them open their snack pack.  They simply won't be fooled into liking you.  It was one of those days where you realize just how human your little one is and how sometimes they can wake up crabby and have an opinion regarding everything from how their food is prepared to what they're wearing.  It was one of those days where you are reminded, no matter how much you try to alter their behavior, that your little toddler is... well... exactly like you.

Yikes.

So, this morning after my little mini-me woke up at 6, I couldn't help myself.  The day called for carbohydrates.  And french toast it was!  Smothered in syrup.  Dylan was pleased.  And, although he insisted on rubbing the syrup all over his tray and in his hair (just after last night's bath), he ate a good-sized helping and, afterwards, he gave me some snuggles.  They may have only lasted a few seconds, but they were snuggles nonetheless!  Besides, he's nearly 21 months old.  He's got a busy and important schedule ahead of him today.  There are books to be read and blocks to be stacked... independently mind you.  And there are parks to be visited.

Today is the day that Mommy enjoys extra carbohydrates with her boy and her boy gets to get "the wiggles" out at the park.  I love this little man.  Mini-David, mini-me, "tiny human" as Dave called him when he was in my tummy.  Tiny human indeed.  Full of attitude, full of opinions.  Full of life!

Thank you, God, for each day.  For good days, for bad days, for snuggle days, for grumpy days.  And especially for "French Toast Fridays."

Dempsey Mining Introductions

Good morning loved ones.  I was just thinking that it's probably time for you to meet the crew.  Many of you already know us, but for those who don't, I would like for you to meet our family and fellow crew-mates. Dempsey Mining, meet faithful readers.  Faithful readers, meet Dempsey Mining....

Dani, aka Little General

Dani digs up some gold!

Dani, aka "Little General", has been our excavator-running extraordinaire!  You should see her folks.  She operates that excavator like nobody's business.  Hour after hour, day after day, she digs material out of the ground and pours it into the trommel.  She is literally our gold-digger.

Dani gives Daniel 30th birthday cake!

Daniel, aka Croatian Sensation

Dani's husband, Daniel, aka "The Croatian Sensation", is my brother-in-law from abroad, and Dempsey Mining's loader-operator.  He pushes needed material to Dani's excavator, and processed material (or "tailings" in miner's terms) away from the trommel.  And he does all of this in between his hitches on the North Slope.  Busy guy!

Dylan gets some Grandma time

Rita, aka "Momma La Rita", is our camp Mom.  She is camp cook, clothes-washer, and errand-runner. She keeps the coffee going, our bellies full, and keeps our spirits healthy and alive... which is no easy task! She is the Mother Hen to us all and Dempsey Mining couldn't do it without her.

Uncle Mike and Auntie Peggy

Peggy, aka Auntie Peggy, is our loader operator, rock-crusher operator, and camp cook.  What doesn't she do?!  She pretty much does it all!  And she always keeps a smile on her face... and ours!  Sweet Auntie Peggy.

Peggy's husband, Mike, aka Uncle Mike, is our excavator operator, rock-crusher operator, loader-operator, and maintenance man.  He keeps the wheels turning on the equipment and he, too, does this all in between slope hitches.  Uncle Mike keeps it real with a cool-head and a cheerful attitude.

Doctor Dan

Dan, aka "Doctor Dan".  Well, where do I start?  Dan is our go-to guy for just about everything.  Equipment problems, camper problems, rock-slides... there's nothing he can't operate, fix, or invent.  Hence his nick-name, Doctor Dan.  He's the backbone of the operation, the glue that holds it all together.  Dempsey Mining is extremely fortunate to have it's own "doctor."

Miner Dave gives me a ride in the loader

Miner Dave and Miner Jr.

Dave, aka "Miner Dave."  I love this miner.  He's one of my faves.  (But I may be a little biased.)  Dave is the one that dreamed up the whole operation.  He took an idea and ran with it.  Dave's enthusiasm and persistent attitude is what inspired six people to buy campers, move to Valdez for a summer, and work their butts off for their share of that legendary Alaska gold.  He organized the whole affair; from finding and buying equipment to spending hours on paperwork and phone calls, from sorting out the financial aspect of everything, crunching numbers and hours and wages, to spending his two weeks off from the slope slaving away with his crew-members at the mine.  And, so far, his perseverance has paid off.  We all love Miner Dave... especially me.  Without him, there would be no Dempsey Mining.


ALSO STARRING...

Apollo!  The wonder dog! AKA "Polly-zipper-face ."  He's part golden retriever, part arctic fox, party mystery-mutt mix, and an all-around fun, energetic guy.  We love him for his cute face, his lively attitude, and his never-ending zest for life.

Midgey! The mini-canine with a big heart.  She's a sweet little thing.  We love her for her calm spirit, her "don't you love me?" eyes, and her ever-faithful loyalty.

Keiser!  The insistant, persistant, consistant play-fetch-all-day pooch!  AKA "Labradork."  He may have a grey beard but he is still a puppy at heart.  We love him for his friendly demeanor, his ambitious "I WILL play fetch all day" attitude, and his handsome mug.


AND OF COURSE... THE CUTEST MINER OF THEM ALL...

Dylan, AKA "D" or "Wolfie."  He's got class, he's got style, he's got cheeks to die for, and he's got one heck of a heart-melting giggle.  We can't imagine mining (or life!) without Dylan.  His favorite things in life are stacking blocks, wrestling, dancing to wee-sing silly songs, Toy Story, bouncy balls, Daddy, Mommy, his three Grandma's, Grandpa, all of his Aunties and Uncles, his BFF Apollo, apples (or bapples in Dylan-terms), and yogurt-covered raisins.  We love him for just being him.  He is pretty much the coolest thing since sliced bread. Dylan: my laughter, my love, my heart. Cutest.  Miner.  Ever.

Well, that pretty much sums it up.  Hope you had fun meeting the crew.  I wish you a day full of merriment and wonder.  

Departing thought... "Everything you can imagine is real." ~Pablo Picasso~