Trekkin' Along...

My very handsome pioneer husband....

And me....are you kidding...why does David look like a rough and tumble, getting the work done, 1850's stud...and I look like someone who recently escaped out of Colorado City?

David and Kristen go pioneering.



Okay, so we didn't actually "trek", but David and I spent the weekend at our Stake Pioneer Trek. We are the fireside committee, which included a pre-trek fireside in February, the Family Home Evening during the trek and a post-trek fireside at the end of the month. It was wonderful to see the trek in action and see all of the hard work on the part of so many people pay off. And the best part...we were able to experience the wonderful trek, without having to actually walk the trek.


It really was a long and difficult ordeal (I hear), but with difficultly comes growth and wonderful experiences. It was fun to see the kids I know and hear their reactions. We have such a terrific group of young women in our ward and I am so blessed to work with them. I loved seeing them in their pioneer clothes, with dirt from stem to stern, some of them limping from blisters and all of them tired beyond description, but for the most part, they were smiling and pushing on, taking in every activity and the lessons each day brought.



I am looking forward to hearing reports from each of them after the experience is over and they are clean and well fed and well rested. I know they will return with a new appreciation for the legacy of our pioneer ancestors and with a stronger testimony of the gospel.

Missing My Dad

I can't believe it has been a year since I lost my sweet Dad. The year has certainly brought healing and closure, but I don't think I will ever get over missing him. When ever something wonderful or something terrible happens in my life, I still wish I could tell him. I want him to cheer when Nick scores five baskets in his game. I want him to celebrate when Ben wins a blue ribbon at his swim meet. I want him to hear about our new home and our pool and how happy we are here.

My Dad was always my biggest supporter. Whether it was celebrating the successes in life, or consoling me during the failures, my Dad was always there. I remember during my senior year in high school, I had the lead in "Heaven Can Wait". We did a special dress rehearsal the day before our opening just for the parents of the cast. About five minutes before the show was to start, the drama teacher sent one of the kids to see how the crowd looked. He came back with a perplexed look on his face. "There's just one guy out there...he's sitting on the front row." I didn't have to look to know who it was. It was my Dad, front and center, ready to see the show.

My Dad always seemed to know what was best for me. It was almost like a sixth sense. I had a curfew of 11:00 p.m. during high school. If I wasn't home by that time, I had to call. When ever I would call, Dad would ask where I was and who I was with. There were some houses that were automatically o.k. because he knew the kids, knew the parents and knew I was safe. If I was somewhere that I probably shouldn't be, he always knew. If I was at a friends house who happened to have an older brother with older friends who were having a party, he knew. If I was at a friends house whose parents were out of town, he knew. And he would say, "Be out in front of the house in 10 minutes. I will be there to pick you up." It was a gift.

I will forever be grateful for a wonderful father who blessed my life. I treasure the memories I have of him and I know I will be with him again. And although my world was just a little better place when he was here, I know that my world is a far better place because he was in it.

One Boy, Whole Brain, Two Boys, Half a Brain, Three Boys...No Brain at All!

Look out...THREE boys!


My friend Daniece comes from a family of eight children and five of them are boys! Her Dad, with his "five boy" wisdom likes to say, "One boy, a whole brain, two boys, a half a brain, and three boys, no brain at all." Anyone who has had three boys around for any length of time, can relate to the truth behind this statement.

Daniece and I have three boys between us, but they are together so often, that we each feel comfortable claiming all three! They are such fun and they certainly keep us on our toes. Recently, Ben turned 11 and we have started letting him be the babysitter at home for short periods of time. He has a phone with him, and I have a phone with me and he is carefully instructed to call me if he needs to. I try not to be too specific about the reasons he should call, because I don't want him to spend time deciding if the reason for calling is a good one, if there truly is something he needs. Of course, this leads to some unnecessary calls to say the least. For example, when David and I are sitting in the adult session of Stake Conference, listening to Russell M. Nelson speak, and Ben calls to ask if it is o.k. if he and Nick eat the Three Musketeer Bar they found in the freezer! Isn't he a good boy to ask?!

Saturday night, we had a business dinner to attend. We were going with Kyle and Daniece and the boys (yes the THREE boys) wanted to stay together while we were gone. We have never "gone there" in the three boy arena...leaving just the three of them together. We were close by, and would only be gone a couple of hours, so Daniece and I decided that would be o.k. Again with the phones and the instructions to call for any reason if you need us. We are in a nice restaurant, appetizers are served, the table is deep in business discussion when I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket. I oh so subtly look to see who is calling, and of course...it is a call from home. I quietly excuse myself out of the restaurant and anxiously answer the phone thinking surely there has been some terrible problem come up...."Hello."

"Mom...can we go t.p.ing?"

"What?...did you really just call me in the middle of dinner to ask me this???? You have never been toilet papering in your life...why would you go now??"

At least they called to ask...right? But instead, I calmly said, "No, remember the instructions to stay IN the house while we are gone? You may not go t.p.ing tonight. Call me if you need to."

"OK Mom," the voice of disappointment.



We arrived home at around 9:00 that night. Everyone was fine, no one had gone t.p.ing and the boys and I were standing at the door saying good-bye, when I hear..."Oh yeah, Mom, the police came to the house tonight."

"EXCUSE ME... did you just say the police came to the house???"

"Yeah, they asked us if we called 911."

"Did you call 911?"

"Well, I was looking for the cell phone, and I was calling it (910 prefix) and someone answered. So I hung up, because I knew no one had my phone."

"So then, did someone call back."

"Yes, but I didn't answer, because I didn't recognize the number." (more instructions from a nervous Mom.)

"So what did the police say?"

"They asked us if our parents were home, and I said no." I am now picturing Child Protective Services showing up at my house.

"They said they were o.k. with us being here alone, but that we should stop playing with the phone."

Apparently the police stayed in the car in front of the house for a while. I'm sure the neighbors' minds are spinning! "So, why are the police at the Dorsey's house...and I think those boys were home alone when they came!!!"


Luckily, there was no fall out from the incident. No CPS, no calls from the Peoria Police Dept., not even a call from a neighbor. The boys are all fine, and looking forward to the next time they get to be on their own. My question is, which brains thought it was o.k. NOT to call Mom when the police show up at the house???

I guess those calls are reserved for toilet paper and Three Musketeers!