Thursday, August 18, 2011

girls REALLY DO wanna have fun!

a group of fantastic ladies and i went on an adventure today to the escondida ranch. lots of gate opening/closing, river crossing, large rock dodging, fresh stream lounging, and dam zip-lining fun! to all those who were there THANKS FOR THE FUN! and to all those who weren't - PLEASE COME NEXT TIME!!!!!

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

just when you thought i'd given up on you

sometimes a nice sunday afternoon bus ride is . . . . . still just a bus ride.
this is the rusty jones' and the jared jones' on a bus. enjoy!

Monday, March 22, 2010


It's true, my name is Meredith and I'm addicted to chocolate. No really, it's a problem.
I haven't gone one day without chocolate in . . . . i don't even know how long it's been, but I would say at least 6 months. So I've taken matters into my own hands. It's time to break the addiction, . . . .therefore I've decided to ban ALL desserts until June 22. I've made it 14 whole days so far and let me tell you . . . it's NOT FUN!! I miss my sweet, gooey, rich, decadent friend. I'll see you in 3 more months.

Friday, March 12, 2010

just in case you wanted to know

i know it's a lot of information but haven't you always wondered what St. Patrick's Day is all about?

Had it not been for a band of Irish marauders in the fifth century, March 17 might've been plain old Maewyn's Day — because Maewyn wouldn't have changed his name to Patrick, and he likely wouldn't have become a saint. In fact, it wouldn't have been a Day at all.

But as it happened, a certain 16-year-old Welsh lad was kidnapped by those Irish marauders, and during the six years young Maewyn spent in servitude as a shepherd in Irelandhe experienced a religious awakening, then spent years studying in a monastery. He took on a new name, Patrick, and a new calling — converting his countrymen to Christianity.

Patrick certainly had the luck of the Irish — as a young man he escaped the captors who enslaved him, and several times later in life he escaped arrest by the druids who didn't appreciate his missionary activities in their midst.

He was successful at his chosen mission, too, founding schools and churches and performing baptisms; within 200 years Ireland was a Christian country. The shamrock, a trifoliate clover, became his cleverest teaching tool, which he used to explain the Trinity — three elements forming one entity.

In his Confessio, a spiritual autobiography, he writes:

So, how is it that in Ireland, where they never had any knowledge of God but, always, until now, cherished idols and unclean things, they are lately become a people of the Lord, and are called children of God.

There is some blarney in the stories about Patrick, too, most notably the one which has him delivering a sermon on a hilltop and thereby banishing the country's snakes. Unless one understands this symbolically to refer to pagan practices, it can't be true, for Ireland had no native snakes.

Saint Patrick died on March 17 in the year 461, and this date was declared a religious feast day. TraditionalLenten prohibitions were waived; dancing, drinking, and eating meat were allowed. In Ireland, most businesses, excluding restaurants and pubs, close on March 17. Nowadays, in an effort to present the best face of Ireland to visitors, a St. Patrick's Day festival is celebrated in Dublin from March 13th to the 19th. It features music, theater, dance, comedy, a treasure hunt, performance art, fireworks and more; it draws over a million revelers.

The first St. Patrick's Day parade took place not in Ireland, however, but in New York, in 1872; the parade became an occasion for downtrodden Irish immigrants to declare their pride in their nationality. Parades now take place across Europe, the Americas and Asia.

How to celebrate St. Patrick's Day:

  • Wear green
  • Pin a shamrock to your hat
  • Speak with a brogue
  • Wear brogues
  • Wish your friends and family "Top o' the morning to ye" and every so often cry out "Erin go bragh!" (Ireland forever)
  • If you're a mayor, dye your town's rivers green and paint your lane markers green.
i just thought that you might be interested in this.


Monday, March 1, 2010

I took a trip to Hell this weekend

So 6 months ago my sister, Shannon, called me up and said she wanted to do this 204 mile relay race from Prescott AZ to Tempe AZ and that she wouldn't do it unless I did it too. At the time I thought that sounded awful. I had JUST had a baby by C-Section and training for a race was NOT what I wanted to be doing. But I reluctantly agreed and the training began. We assembled a team of 12 girls including myself, 2 sisters, 4 cousins, a couple of their friends and my bestie from high school. Along the way quite a few dropped out and were filled in by a couple more cousins on the other side of the family and some VERY last minute replacements (like the day before, thank you Courtney!) But we were determined to get this race done.

The "FlabFighters" right before the race started, left to right: Evelyn, Meredith, Meghan, Marisa, Courtney, Kelly, Jenn, Debbie, Shawn, Windy, and Karina (Shannon was taking the picture)
Some of my teammates, Debbie the Awesome Aussie, Kelly my cousin, Evelyn the bestie, Shawn a cousin's friend, and Courtney who saved our day
Meghan, Meredith and Windy
Meghan Decorating the Tahoe
Some Jones cousins, Meredith, Marisa, and Meghan at the starting line
the girls from my car Karina in front, Evelyn, Meghan, Shannon, and Windy
Meredith and Evelyn
my sisters and I on day 2, are those tired eyes or what?

What an adventure to say the least. starting with a 3 mile run straight uphill for poor Shannon, the hills I never thought would end, trying to nap on the desert floor with ants circling around, by the way, my sister Windy can put up a tent like nobody's business, losing Karina in the middle of the night during her 7 mile run (thank you kind runner who found her) shannon's 8 mile run in the middle of the night, the portapotties!! i've never used so many in my life, the 1 am run on the highway and spotting my teammates at jack in the box as i ran past them wishing i could join them, sleeping on the pavement in a middle school parking lot at 6 am (not really sleeping), praying that the boy who got hit by a car while passing his teammate water would be ok (we still don't know) the tears that EVERY team member shared as each of us finished our last legs, and finally watching Shannon join us at the finish line to end it all pushing kelly on a grocery cart to get her across the line cause she ruined her knee for this.

In the words of my sister Shannon, "hell is a never ending Ragnar Relay Race, with the need to poo every 20 minutes!" That's what I did this last weekend, and you know what . . . I would do it again.

but for now, i'm resting.

Monday, February 22, 2010


Ragnar was a 9th century Norse King. He was a pirate, a raider, a conqueror, an explorer, and a wild man. The tough, fearless, rugged attributes of this Norse King are shared by all who participate in a Ragnar Relay. In much the same way, a Ragnar Relay provides runners the freedom to roam, to explore - a free-spirited curiosity to get out there and experience outdoor adventure. And maybe even to conquer. And though tough or rugged may not perfectly describe you, these attributes become a goal - something to strive for.

In a Ragnar Relay the wild nature of this Norse King is embraced by many participants. Participants who aren't afraid to paint their van plaid, to bring along their own hair band, to join together in yelling as they cross the finish line. You may think that you are not one of them, but you are. Everyone has a wild side and nothing brings it out of you like a Ragnar Relay.

Long live the Ragnar in us all

This is what I'm doing this weekend. Just me and 12 of my friends/sisters/cousins divided into 2 vans to relay 202 miles. Does that sound like fun or what?

Monday, February 15, 2010


Every year for Valentine's Day, my thoughtful husband
gives me a boquet of roses. So sweet, I know, and I'm sure
many of you receive the same or similar gifts. Now, I
don't mean to seem ungrateful or snobbish, but this year
I'm taking issue with the florists in our lovely Mexico.
You see, they tend to make their flower arrangements
look like they're going to a memorial service, i.e. the picture below.

So this year I removed the beautiful dozen red roses and put them in my own vase.
Much better I think.
i love these two girls. they make my day.
and he's so handsome. happy valentine's day to my wonderful husband.