My intention of breaking our family blogging silence last week was to get back in the habit of posting at least on a basis that at least resembled regular. Sundays are generally better for writing. We even had shortened church meetings due to stake conference this week. Alas, here it is Monday morning and I'm writing this from the bus on the way into Seattle.

My reason for not writing last night is valid, in my opinion. I found a pretty cool article on McAllisters in Gettysburg during the Civil War. I'm not sure if its contents is widely known through out the family. However, my discovery of it has reignited my interest in researching the family during that era. For those family members interested, our connection to the story is toward the end when the author begins writing about Gabriel McAllister and his descendents, of whom we are also. On to more current matters. We're in the midst of our second round of toilet training Andrew. The first attempt was several months ago and little progress was made in a weeks time, so we aborted the try and regrouped until this last week.

This time around the results were very good right up front. He has a pretty good handle on peeing in the potty, it's pooping where he's been the most stubborn. The secret is a family weakness that must be genetic -- Oreos. America's favorite cookie has worked wonders in helping our son know where to do his business.

What's cute about Andrew is that each time he earns a cookie he wants four of them. Of course, you're thinking, wouldn't we all? But, Andrew takes his handful of cookies around the house searching for each member of the family. When he finds you he holds up a fresh cookie, and with a chocolate covered grin he says, "Here!" handing you a piece of the spoils.

Sure, we're going through our Oreos four-times as fast, but as a parent, it's hard to be upset about a two-year-old who wants to share...at least his extra cookies.

After a six-month blogging drought, it's hard to decide what event in life is worthy of breaking the silence. That is, of course, until you realize that simply breaking the silence is the most important thing; the content of the post is secondary.

We've enjoyed our first nine months in western Washington. We couldn't have asked for a better neighborhood, or ward at our church. We're still getting used to living a little farther away from civilization than we were used to in Cache Valley. Although, I love the combination of a quiet living situation for my family and a fun work environment in downtown Seattle.

Taking the bus to and from work each day has allowed me to read more books than I ever have - voluntarily - in my life.

Just as I was getting settled in at ATG, last fall it was announced that the company was going to be purchased by Oracle. To give you an idea of the difference in companies, ATG had roughly 600 employees, while Oracle employees over 100,000. I suspect the cultural differences between the two will not be few. Although, I'm looking forward to the challenge.

The official change happened this last week. On Friday we were told that our office at Westlake Center in downtown Seattle would be consolidating to the Oracle office already in operation in downtown Bellevue. Apparently, that office had an entire floor available.

The new location is a bit closer to home - six miles to be exact. The commute via bus takes about the exact same amount of time. So, it looks like I'll still be able to keep my reading time each day.

Anyone have any good suggestions for books to read?

The fact that we're inconsistent bloggers makes us grateful that we have family members who are quite the opposite. A couple of weeks ago Amber's sister Jen came to visit, and she just posted a entry of her visit on her own blog. If you want to see tons of great pics of us in our new surroundings in Seattle please follow the link below. Thanks for visiting, taking pictures, and posting them online, Jen!

http://jenbagby.blogspot.com/2010/09/seattle.html

It's pretty safe to say that I'm a soccer guy. And, as a soccer guy, it is also safe to say that I picked the weirdest time to relocate and completely change my living situation. The World Cup is something that comes along every four years, and for soccer people it's a time to be completely immersed in the game for a solid month. That month happened to be the same month that I began working for ATG in Seattle.

Heading into this adventure I knew that working and living in a metorpolitan area of nearly 4.2 million people would be just a little different than a life working at a great public university amongst a community of 125,000 in rural Utah. During the World Cup this summer I experienced a day that illustrated just how different life can be in the big city, and how much I have to learn about living here.

The United States Men's National Team was scheduled to play in its final group match against Algeria, kicking off at 7am local time on a Wednesday morning. The situation was fairly straight forward for the Americans - win and you advance. If the result was anything else then the Stars and Stripes would most likely go home. With such a big match I wanted to be able watch the entire thing while still getting to my desk at a reasonable time. I'm usually expected to be available at work by 9am, so the best solution for watching the game and still making it to my desk was to head up to the office by kickoff and watch the match in the ATG break room.

This plan would require catching a bus early in the six o'clock hour, which meant that I had to wake up just after 5am. Surprisingly, that happened with out a hitch. I was up and ready with ample time to make the necessary bus, which not surprisingly had several more open seats than I was used to seeing. The Westlake Center, where I work, was even more empty than the bus. And, that's kind of where the strange things began happening.

I got to the elevator just after seven, and was feeling good about my timing. I punched the button for 12 but the light for the floor didn't turn on and the carriage remained still. Someone else got into the elevator and hit the button for the 11th floor and we were off. I tried the floor 12 button a few more times before arriving at 11, but the button was obviously broken. So, I got out at 11 and tried another of the four elevators, which also produced the same result. Now, if an elevator isn't cooperating the next logical step in trying to get to your destination would be to go the old fashioned way and take the stairs, right? This idea sounded reasonable enough. After a little exploring I found a door on the 11th floor that led to a typical looking stairwell.

Skipping up the steps two at a time, and feeling I had out smarted the elevator, I reached my floor with out without breaking a sweat. I reached for the door handle to complete my journey and was met by a petrified knob that was securely locked in place. Frustrated, I retreated back to 11 only to find that door also securely closed. As I descending down the tight staircase I learned that the door on each floor was impassable from the stairwell. That is, except for the main floor, where the doors opened up to the coffee shop near the main building entrance.

Humbled by the building that had obviously beaten me, I walked back over to the bank of elevator doors resigned to the fact that I needed to ask for help. I approached a security guard who was in the middle of explaining to someone else that this early in the morning - although now not as early as I would have liked - you need a key card to go anywhere on the elevator. I stepped into the car to watch the uniformed man demonstrate swiping a card through an inconspicuous crack, and then pushing the button for a floor. After repeating these steps I reached my floor and entered the break room about 15 minutes into the match.

The game was already showing on the tv, which wasn't a complete surprise, although I was expecting more than one person to be watching. As I sat down I looked over at my fellow soccer person and discovered it was Berry, the vice president of software development, and he was on a call. He would remain on the call throughout the entire match, including when Landon Donovan dramatically knocked in the World Cup saving goal for the United States in stoppage time. When Donovan's shot hit the net I joined the rest of the country in celebrating leaping form my chair with pumping fists. I flailed. I jumped. I think I may have even spun around a few times. But, I did not make a vocal sound. Being on the job for only a few weeks I figured it would be poor form to disturb the phone call of the VP of software development, so I channelled my years working in the press box and kept my celebrations silent.

For a soccer guy, moments like Donovan's goal against Algeria will not be forgotten. Neither will the lessons learned that morning as I become more familiar with life in the big city.

In June our family is setting off on an adventure!

We're Moving!

Scott has accepted a new job in Seattle, WA with a company called ATG. He will begin work around June 7th. As soon as we can get everything squared away with selling our house, Amber will follow with the kids.

To fill you in on the process, Scott wasn't exactly looking for another job though always has his resume up-to-date and will occasionally send it out. Two weeks ago His friend, Kyan, from Ricks College asked him to send him his resume, and everything went on from there.

Though we are sad to leave the area and the people we love behind, we're excited for this new opportunity and know it is where we need to be at this time. We are glad to live in a day and age of text, IM, email, blogs and Skype and plan on keeping up with you through that.

If anyone has any ideas of where to live (or where NOT to live for that matter) in Seattle area, we are up for suggestions.

Our first vacation in a few years happened to coincide with spring break. So, even though none of us were actually out on spring break, we're going to label our trip such because it fits.

You might be wondering why we chose Las Vegas as our destination. Several months - may have been over a year - ago Amber and I sat in on a time-share presentation that offered a free trip to hear their pitch. We originally chose St. George, with the intention of taking the kids. However, as time went on we learned that the award company offered very meager packages to St. George and many more perks for America's playground. With prospect of receiving more freebies we moved our destination a few hours south of Utah's dixie land to Nevada. Still, the plan was to experience the trip as a family.

In the months leading up to our expedition I took on a second programming job, performing some contract work with a company called Logicalis in Seattle. The work was challenging and fun, but the schedule was brutal. In addition to my full-time day job at the university I was adding an additional 30 hours a week programming late into the night and on weekends. It was during one of these coding spells that I felt enormous gratitude for Amber's support in my added employment. Thinking of ways I could make it up to her, the thought of secretly arranging childcare for the trip and then traveling as a couple felt like the way to go.

To help with childcare I contacted Ambers sister Stacy, whose daughter Sienna is close to Ashley in age, and my sister Julia, who doesn't have any kids as small as Andrew and thus I thought would be a good fit. Both agreed to help, although my sister Jenna eventually convinced Julia to take Andrew. I never knew my kids were so popular.

Our hotel reservations put us in Vegas during the non-peak time of the week - Tuesday through Thursday. We were already in Orem the weekend prior for the Easter holiday, so we spent time with family on Monday before we headed south. Monday night I met up with some friends in Salt Lake to attend an amazing rock show of a british band called Muse. It was the most amazing concert I've ever seen. I was already a fan of the music, but the attention to detail in the production was astounding.

Jenna's family graciously let us crash in their basement on Monday night. This worked out doubly well as they live about a mile from the venue where I attended the show and they were going to be taking Andrew in the morning. Already sleeping there simplified our departure immensely. After packing up and leaving Andrew with Jenna we traveled down to Utah county to leave Ashley with Stacy. Both drop offs were executed flawlessly and we were on the road to Nevada in no time.

The first stop on our trip was the In-N-Out Burger in St. George, which is conveniently located next to the outlet malls. Following the consumption of the tasty burgers we made our way around the various outlets, making sure that we weren't missing out on any killer sales. It turns out that we weren't, so our stay in Dixie was short.

Upon our arrival in America's Playground we checked into the Riviera, located on the older end of the Strip across from Circus Circus. The rooms were pleasant, however the rest of the hotel was a little dated. This didn't matter too much as most of our time was spent exploring all the different places along Las Vegas Blvd. Our vacation package included some gift certificates to Planet Hollywood at Caesar's Palace. Finding the restaurant was a little tricky, as you might imagine. There are two commercial structures that are designed to keep you captive: shopping malls and casinos. So, when a casino, Caesar's Palace, designs a shopping mall finding your way around such a building can be maddening. After correcting ourselves from taking a few wrong turns we eventually found the place and were able to sit down to dinner.

Our only full day in the city started with sleeping in late - thanks to no kids - and going for a six mile run. This brings up the topic as to why we chose to go on vacation while in the middle of training for a race. We're not exactly sure, but whenever we head out on a trip together in the future - probably in another seven or eight years - we don't plan on going while preparing for any kind of race.

With the mid-day run we didn't get out to see anything until well into the afternoon. To save some time we drove down to the south end of the Strip and parked at the MGM Grand so we could see everything on that end of town without taking the 2.5 mile walk. After hitting up ESPN Zone - one of my personal favorite stops of the trip - for lunch, we headed over to M&M World before deciding that we wanted to see a show. Following several recommendations we chose to see the Cirque du Soleil perform "O" at the Bellagio. Cirque du Soleil is a company known for mind blowing acrobatics. This particular show was set mostly around water scenes. The stage for the theater was particularly impressive as the floor moved in several places. At one moment the water on stage was deep enough for a performer to take a 50-foot dive off a trapeze. Then, a minute later the same pool would be shallow enough for other performers to be running across the surface.

The one drawback to the show was the fact that we decided rather late to attend and the performance was sold out a few days in advance. We took the gamble of waiting for over an hour in the standby line - observing how people played poker in the next room while we waited. When show time approached the usher tried to get rid of the single seats first. Faced with the prospect of not getting in at all we took the chance and accepted to sit on opposite sides of the theater. Once we got inside it was a little disappointing to find each of our rows half-full at best, meaning if we would have waited for seats that were together we would have most certainly gotten into the show.

Thursday began with another lazy morning, followed by a run. This one was only three miles, and I think we may have fudged even that. While packing the car, after checking out of the Riviera, Amber decided she wanted to take our chances on the slot machines with the change in our car. After pulling the lever a few times on a penny slot I struck pay dirt - winning 400 credits. This meant I could pull the lever 400 more times, or walk away with $4.00 cash. I chose the later, and do believe I spent it all in one place.

Returning to our kids was an entertaining event. While away we had been told that Ashley and Sienna declared one of the days that they spent together as, "the best day ever!" Ashley was so tuckered from three fun filled days with her cousins that she barely opened her eyes when we took her out to the car. The next morning we arrived at Jenna's house only to have Andrew collapse and cry at the first sight of us. He was clutching a cereal bowl, and thought that since we arrived he would loose the chance at some more cereal. We made sure the boy had his fill before hitting the road for a final time to return to Logan.

I never knew how mental racing was.

Running down the Provo Canyon river trail on Saturday, while competing in my first half marathon, every time another runner passed me I would think, "that's it, everyone is in front of me and I'm now in last place." My feet ached, my calves burned, and due to a technical mix up before the race I was running without my usual GPS watch that tracked my time, distance, and pace. Without my watch, and with no mile markers posted, I had no idea where I was on course, or how I was doing in regards to time. This stretch of the race was very discouraging. I didn't expect to feel so alone and so lost.

As is the case much of the time in my life, my music was my cocoon of comfort to keep my mind focused on the positive and distracted from the negative. Each time that I would take out my earbuds to adjust their position the comfortable tones would be replaced by the sounds of footsteps of the other runners approaching from behind.

I'm most entirely at fault for arriving in such a lonely situation. The race began high up the mountains above the Sundance resort. Waiting in the crowd of over 700 runners at the starting line I was accompanied by Amber and our friends Eric and Betsy Billman. We all followed Amber, the experienced racer, who jockeyed through the masses to get as close to the starting line as possible. When the clock started Amber got started quickly, weaving around anyone that kept her from keeping her desired pace.

Taking Amber's lead, I also started quickly. We stayed together for a few minutes until I felt cramped and split a couple of runners. I heard Amber yell, "see you later," and I was off - letting the momentum of the hill pull me down the coarse. Once I reached the more level area of Provo Canyon the jell-o feeling in my legs told me that I probably took the first five miles too fast.

Next came the drudgery of Provo Canyon and the river trail. There were a few times where I honestly felt like stopping because the pain in my calves was so bad. And, although I paused briefly a few times to stretch against a tree I continued on, trotting closer to the finish line.

My hopes brightened when I finally emerged from the canyon, although the pain in my legs was still ever present. As I began heading south towards the Riverwoods shopping center I noticed a person with a camera waving frantically at me. She even took a few pictures in my direction. I didn't think there was anyone behind me, so I first thought the friendly photographer had me confused for someone else. But, as I got closer I realized I was the mislead one. The happy person was Amber's sister Jen.

At this point, I figured the finish couldn't be that far off. We came to a stoplight and then cut into a commercial development. The spectators along the trail became more frequent as we made the last turn before the chute. While entering the final stretch I heard a, "yeah, Scott!" from my sister Julia who was positioned on a grassy knoll with a video camera.

My pace increased a bit with the thought of almost being done. But, it wasn't until I saw the clock that I threw all my energies into a last gasp sprint. Before the race, my goal was to complete the 13.1-mile course in one hour and 45 minutes. When I saw 1:44 on the clock - the seconds were obstructed from view - I knew I still had a chance to make it across the finish line in time. With 14 seconds to spare I finished my first endurance race.

In her second race in as many months, Amber improved upon Top Of Utah Half Marathon time by three minutes, coming in at 1:50:33.

Several weeks ago, after completing her first half-marathon, Amber convinced me that I wanted to train for a 13.1-mile race myself. Not to be completely outdone by my talented wife, who obliterated her target time by seven minutes in her first endurance competition, I committed to train for a race in St. George on the first Saturday in November.

This was back in August, and believe it or not, I have not missed a single training run. Amber and I take turns each morning running through the chilly Cache Valley air. Both of us have found that we enjoy the regular exercise, and especially having something to work toward.

My favorite part about training with another person is the motivation gained while challenging each other with times and increasingly more difficult routes. When the training schedule called for a six-mile run Amber introduced me to a horribly hellacious hill in Hyde Park that ascended nearly 500 feet in just about a mile-and-a-half. What made the Hyde Park hill the most daunted is the three false peeks that make you think you're almost there, but you're not.

The St. George race included a two-mile stretch of trail running. This thought made me want to include some similar trails during our preparation. The Bonneville Shoreline trail, a 1.8-mile roller coaster path spanning between the Green and Logan Canyons, seemed perfect.

My initial attempt worked me over like no other run had. And, for good cause as the route required climbing twice as much altitude as the Hyde Park run. Never backing down from a challenge herself, Amber had a go and agreed that adding the high-altitude trail in our regimen gave training a new challenge.

This past Saturday we needed to find a route to accommodate 12 miles - the longest training run of the circuit. As I thought about it, one thing became clear. This not only had to be the longest run, but it should also be the hardest. Once that was decided, there was no choice but to combine the Hyde Park hill run with the Bonneville Shoreline trail.

We even got a babysitter to watch the kids so that Amber and I could go together. Our pace was consistent, the hills were challenging but conquerable, and we climbed 1,529 feet (but also descended 1,567) en route to the longest run I've ever taken in my life.

On a side note, we have decided to move our race date up a week and run in the Provo Halloween Half instead of St. George. If you're in the Provo area on October 31st the race ends at the Riverwoods Shopping Center. Come see us!

Before jumping into the details of the second day of our trip I should mention that Florence, aka Masma, was cremated, much like her husband Jim, aka Paspa, when he passed on nearly ten years ago. Seeing her remains as a mass of ashes really brought meaning to the scripture, "for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return."

All of the events of this day include Masma being with us.

The second day of our road-trip of rememberance began with a trip out to picturesque Donner Lake, where our Truckee based group of McAllister men gathered to remember Florence. Nate led us to a quiet spot close to the eastern shore of the lake. Memories and laughs were shared. The feeling was very light and enjoyable.

Nate remembered Masma's lemonade, and I talked about Masma's dedication to keeping her mind sharp - always completing the daily crossword in the newspaper. Brent offered a prayer while uncle Peter led us all in a buddhist chant.

The chant that Peter taught us said, "Nam myoho renge kyo." I don't remember what each word meant, but I remember that he mentioned that it had something to do with devotion.

After snapping some pictures and exchanging farewells, we let Nate get back to his workday while the rest of us descended the western slopes of the Sierras, on our way to the coast. We didn't take the most direct route to our destination. While passing through Sacramento we stopped off to see the temple that was built since the days I served there as a missionary.

Once we crossed the Bay Bridge into San Francisco we exited the Interstate and drove along the Embarcadero to see the city and the piers along the bay. We made our way through the north side of the city, up by the Golden Gate Bridge, and latched onto scenic Highway 1. This is a stretch of road that hugs the Pacific coast, and is considered one of the most beautiful drives in the world.

We started in Pacifica, just outside of San Francisco, and made our way south toward Pigeon Point. The fog overtook the Golden Gate bridge and covered our drive down the coast. It wasn't until we came to Pigeon Point, where we could see our destination at Franklin Point, that the sun brooke through. The timing was perfect as the sun lit the beach where we were heading and little else.

Bill and Peter were waiting for us at the head of the trail that led out to the point. Bill's older son Joe pulled up moments after our arrival. We trekked through the sand and dune grass out to the point where we had laid Paspa's ashes nearly a decade earlier. We shared a similar moment as that morning in Truckee with prayer and chanting before Peter - the youngest, and probably most nimble of the three brothers - scampered out onto the farthest rock point and laid his mother's ashes to rest in the sea.

Everything happened so quickly. Just over a week ago, while spending the morning at home with a fever-laden baby, I received a call from my mother. She informed me that my paternal grandmother, known to us as Masma, was not doing well and was only expected to live another 24 hours at the most. That was a week ago Tuesday.

Looking at the big picture, this shouldn't have come with much surprise. Masma was 92, and she had lived a life that was full and memorable. She was moved from a facility near her home in the San Francisco Bay Area to a very comfortable place in Provo, Utah six months ago. Reasons for the move were two-fold: she had a large concentration of grandchildren in the area, and the cost of living was considerably lower.

We enjoyed having her more accessible in Utah, and I would like to think that she enjoyed the attention she received from the extended generations of posterity that came to visit her.

By Tuesday night I was driving south to Utah county to meet with my mom and sister Julia, who were sitting with a mostly unconscious Masma. We sat and reminisced late into the evening before my dad arrived from the airport at about 11pm.

I ended up sitting next to my dad, at Masma's bedside for the rest of the night. Dad and I talked quietly at times, but mostly sat in silent thought. We noticed her breaths grow increasingly farther apart, and at 2am I watched the life drain from her face as she passed peacefully into the next life.

Now, a week later, I find myself sitting in a motel in Truckee, California. My dad and I departed from my sister Jenna's place in Taylorsville this morning and picked up my brother Brent at the Reno Airport this afternoon. Our journey across Nevada was highlighted by an audio book by T. Boone Pickens and the occasional Cat equipment sighting. We met up with my dad's brothers Bill and Pete and connected with Bill's son Nate, who lives in Truckee, just before he left for work at the Drunken Monkey.

Dad, Brent, Bill, Pete, and I drove down to Lake Tahoe from Truckee and explored the area surrounding the lake before skipping rocks off of its banks. We finished the night by enjoying some decadent sushi rolls at the Drunken Monkey with Nate as our server.