Mr. Miller and I both come from a rich pioneer heritage. I never really understood or appreciated this when I was growing up, but my goodness I am thankful for my ancestors today. They traveled miles and miles, risking their lives and families to build a community in a beautiful land where they could have religious freedom. This is a purpose I hold so close to my heart, and I’m so grateful to be living the life they fought so hard for me to live. The mormon pioneers are some of the toughest people you’ll ever hear of. Their blood runs through my veins and through the veins of my children. We come from tough pioneer stock on both sides. I hope to teach my kids to appreciate this much sooner than I ever did.
We celebrate this day, Pioneer Day, big in Utah and even though we had JUST made it home from our week at the beach, we couldn’t resist the urge to celebrate in our favorite little place in Utah, up at the Miller Cabin. The Miller’s cabin is tucked away in the finest corner on top of Cedar Mountain. There are trees, valleys, and beauty every place you lay your eyes. It is quiet with basically no cell service. It is a serious slice of Heaven. Mr. Miller spent nearly every weekend of his life up on this Mountain, and during his childhood his family built the cabin themselves. My in-laws (who are the most wonderful in-laws) still spend nearly every weekend there, and I admire that about them very much. My father-in-law, Charlie (who I am just realizing I don’t talk about enough on this blog), has been traveling to this mountain since he was a little one and knows every single trail, every animal, everything about this beautiful country.
The first time Brady took me to the Mountain, we had been dating a few months and I truly fell hard for him on that trip. I imagined our life together, bringing our own children up there for quiet weekends, walking the trails and pushing them in the swings. Mr. Miller can impress me at the cabin the way he can’t anywhere else. By working hard on physical projects, driving four-wheelers, fixing things, and taking me for rides without ever getting lost. He is such a burly man when we’re at the cabin and even thinking of it gives me butterflies. I love hearing stories about this beautiful mountain and look forward to keeping it in our family for generations. I also feel especially grateful that our children have it to grow up with quiet weekends, walking the trails, and swinging in the swings – just like I had dreamed.
We went for a ride one day, and even though it was bright noon-day sun, we had to stop and admire the beauty of the mountain. These pictures have flaws, but I will hold them close to my heart forever.
Until next time!