Hook, line and sinker

If you go to the Tulip Festival at Thanksgiving Point, don't be lured in by the temporary food carts that are set up in the gardens. I was. I was lured by the thought of fresh cut fries and corn dogs. (They were out of hamburgers.) And they reeled me in with their strong clear line that was invisible to me. Me and Brian were about to get the kids meals right along with our kids since they were only $4.50 and the adult meals were $7.50 but then we noticed that the kids meals only came with chips and we wanted the fries. So we forked over the $6.00 extra dollars between us, I got a corn dog and Brian got chicken tenders.

It turns out that the adult chicken tenders are actually shaped like dinosaurs. Hmmm. That sounds like kids chicken tenders to me. They probably warmed the chicken and the corn dogs up in the microwave. The fries ended up being greasy tasteless strings of potato. Don't get me wrong, I like greasy at times, but tasteless greasy?! I do not like. Darn! I hate spending money on crappy food! We should have just gotten a light snack there and gone to a real food place after instead. Like JCW's. It's right outside the gardens! Now those are good fries. I always judge a food establishment by their fries. Even the Thanksgiving Point restaurant has good fries. Why, oh why didn't we go there instead! I will answer my own question. It's because it was already 1:00 and we still weren't all the way throught the gardens. We were hungry. And fresh fair-type food sounded good.

Learn from me and just get a snack and move along to some real food. I was blinded by the shine and glare of the spinner. Don't ask me why I'm using all of these terms. I don't even fish.

Live in the now, me!

I love history. I love looking at old black and white photographs and wondering what that person's life was like or if they were going through any hard times.

I'm always interested in hearing about how medical issues were dealt with ages ago - from a toothache to cancer. Or in biblical times if someone was mentally handicapped sometimes they were sent out of the city and forced to live on their own in a cave or some other shelter that they could find. Sad. Personally, I believe these are the "cave men" that have been found throughout time and paleontologists somehow think they are millions of years older than they really are.

I'm interested in hearing how hygiene was taken care of in other time periods. Like in the Elizabethan times people hated water. They thought it would cause sickness so they never bathed. Gross. They also thought that putting puppy pee on their faces would cure acne. Even grosser.

I think about history all the time. Sometimes when I say or hear someone say certain things, I immediately think about when someone has said that very thing before.

Like if I say "I just wish I had a nice pair of boots for church."
I picture a woman in the late 1800s saying the same thing.

Or if I hear "Did you hear that so-and-so lost his job?"
I picture someone saying the same, over the fence, in the 1930s.

When my little boy says "Do I have to go to school today? I don't want to!"
I picture a boy saying that to his mom in the 1950s.

When I see two friends hug after not seeing each other for a long time,
I think of friends finding each other circa 90 B.C. and it was a joyous reunion.

So you better watch what you say around me. I might be thinking of a little thing called "the past". And you don't want that to happen, do you? Do you?!

Does that plant have fur?

Yes and no. You are seeing fur here but it did not grow on the plant.

It's one of our kitty's favorite napping places. It's not one of our favorite though. He gets dirt stuck to him and around the plant as you can see on the window sill. One time he even knocked this very plant over onto the couch and floor. Lots of dirt everywhere. I always thought that cats were too small and nimble to do things like knock plants over. I thought that was something a pet dog would do. Now I know.

This is a much cleaner place for him to nap even if though a little strange. (Bathroom sink if you can't tell.)

At night he loves to snuggle. With me only. I don't know why he has chosen me as his snuggle buddy but he has. It's darn cute but it's a little annoying too. I have to move him away from me constantly. It's an all night battle. I feel bad because I want him to be snuggly but just not at 2 a.m.

I tried to make these pictures bigger but I'm not smart enough to figure that out. I think I just needed to draw it bigger. But why are the words so small?! Above is the "pillow hog sleeper"

And here is the "neck smother sleeper". It makes me feel like I'm wearing a vibrating wool scarf. (Vibrates from the purring.) It's a little too warm and a little too loud. If we close our door with him on the outside, he sits by our door and meows and I worry that he will wake everyone up. He's such a sweet little cat but we need to figure out a new plan soon.

Conjunctively speaking

So I know the rule is that a sentence cannot start with a conjunction. And I have noticed that my writing is full of them. But I just can't help it. And I don't really want to change it. Because this is how I talk in real life. And it sounds more like me. So I'm sorry if it sounds like fingernails on a chalkboard for anyone. But it's not going to change anytime soon.

Ribs

Mine, not the food. They hurt. My chiropractor brother said it might be due to sleeping on my side on a pillow that is too flat. I thought about my pillow. It is pretty flat. It's even ugly flat. So I decided to get myself a new one. I looked at the $7 ones and then thought better of it. I decided to splurge and get the $11 one. $4 makes a difference doesn't it? My brother laughed quite heartily about this since according to him a "good" pillow costs around $50. He might be right since, at first, this new $11 pillow was a little too high and fluffy and it's already starting to flatten. Right now it's about how I like it but it makes me wonder how flat it is going to end up.

But I'm not sure if I can spend $50 on a pillow. Do they go bad as fast as the cheap ones? Maybe not. Maybe that's why they cost so much. Would you be able to spend that much on a pillow?

Lucky Sunday

You know when people speak in church and there are no announcements and the songs are super short and the speakers end up having 45 minutes to fill? And you just think, oh man, I am glad I'm not them. Well yesterday it was the complete opposite when it was our turn to speak.

A counselor gave some ward business, then the bishop gave some ward business, then the stake presidency counselor released a bishopric counselor and called a new one. Then the old and new counselor gave their testimonies. Then there was a youth speaker. Then it was my turn. I didn't have to worry about shortening or longening it. (I know that's not a word but I don't care.) My talk was a little shorter than it should have been to begin with but it didn't matter by then. Then there was a family musical number. Then it was finally Brian's turn. There was only 5 minutes left! It was seriously the luckiest day to speak ever. All the people in the congregation with short attention spans were just riveted to all the movement and change going on.

The only unlucky part was that, being 5 months pregnant, I had to go to the bathroom soooo bad and there was no holding it, so I had to leave the stand during the youth speaker and speed-walk down the hall and back and I barely made it back in time for my turn and so I was out of breath right when I got up to speak. A little embarrassing. But, again, more entertainment for the people watching. (Note to self: do not drink water before church when you are going to speak.)

It was hard for Brian to have to cut his talk down to 5 minutes but his worst fear, in giving a talk, is having 15 minutes left over after finishing his talk so he was in heaven. (Church building heaven. That's not the real heaven. Just the heaven that you are in when you're at church.)

An unreal memory

Me and my dad - 1978

My dad died in 1979 when I was just 19 months old. My sister Sinika was 2 days old. I have no memories of him. But a year or two ago I had a dream that I got to talk to him. I was an adult but I saw my older sisters running around as little girls. I think my dad knew then that he had cancer and that he was going to die. I could see the worry in his eyes as he watched his kids. I don't remember anything that was said in the dream but it felt so real that it seems almost like a memory. I've always wondered what it would be like to look at his face and talk to him. How tall he would be, what his voice would sound like, the exact color of his eyes, all of that. So although it was just a silly dream I hope that I remember it forever.

Is it similar to a bolt of lightning?

Yesterday I got what is called a "church sliver" or maybe it's called a "pew sliver". I have heard of the common occurrence of the "pew sliver" but I had never experienced one up until now. Let me tell you - they are not fun to get. Especially one minute before church services start. You have to sit there and not get it out. I had to let the tip of my pointer finger throb all through the hour and fifteen minutes and tried to find an end to pull out but found nothing. If only I had brought my tweezers to church. If only. And maybe a sterilized needle. What I would have given for that! (A few dollars.) I finally got to go home after the final prayer and remove the lumber. It was almost a half kilometer long! Okay, so I am exaggerating. It was almost a half millimeter long.

The proof. Don't worry, no blood was involved with the entrance or the exit of this sliver.

It may sound like the church that I attend is around 100 years old with wooden slivers hanging off the pews. But it's actually only about 3 years old with wooden slivers hanging off the pews.

Just take it from me: Don't slide your hand along the bench in front of you no matter how smooth or new it looks and feels. It's just too risky.

Near catastrophe

Laundry day.
Fold clothes in my room.
Little Addie plays in Elli's room.
Go downstairs to get another load of laundry to fold.
Come upstairs.
Smell fingernail polish.
Feel the feeling of dread that only comes when you smell fingernail polish coming from the room that your 2 year old is in.
Open the door.
"Mommy, I paint my nails!"
Look around for the giant spill that is inevitable (or miniature spill -but whatever size: horrible).
Find no spill. YET. It's hard to find much in this room.
Confiscate polish.
Rinse off fingers of any polish that is still wet.
Take pictures.

I guess she did a pretty good job for a 2 year old. Somehow she got the nail polish opened and she painted each nail (and each finger). She was proud of herself. I was just glad that she didn't spill which still makes no sense to me. 2 year olds spill everything.

I don't think that she closed the door to hide from me. She just closes any door of any room that she's in. She would have still painted her nails if the door was open. The only thing that came from the door being closed is that I didn't catch her sooner because I couldn't see in when passing by. Time to hide all nail polish.

Ben has a new hairdo

We are just having too much fun with our web cam. This is a picture of Ben in the glow of the screen. He opened it in paint and accentuated a few of his features.

Multitasking

Snuggling with Addie, catching up on some Modern Family online and letting Addie watch herself on the web cam. 3 things checked off at once.

Come back soon smells!

Currently, because of a sinus problem (a cold), my olfactory system isn't working. I can't smell a thing. And so, I can't taste anything either. Why do you need to be able to smell in order to taste? I do not know, go ask your mother. (That Dr. Seuss line always cracks me up.)

So since I haven't been able to taste anything for the last few days, why have I eaten chocolate on each of those days? Maybe it's out of habit. (Very likely.) Maybe I'm hoping with each piece I will detect a tiny leak of flavor. Maybe I am still getting endorphins from it even without tasting the flavor. (I don't think this is true. I think I need the flavor in order to get the endorphins.) Maybe I'm testing myself to see if I'm getting better. Yeah, I'll stick with that reason.

Oh look. Here I am eating a piece of chocolate right now as I type this. (Make me stop!)

Do you know how fun it is to make dinner when you know you aren't going to be able to taste it? A negative 2 fun. That's why we had cereal for dinner last night. I had plain old Cheerios. I do like the flavor of cheerios normally but when you have to choose a cereal for the least amount of flavor - Cheerios wins every time.

The good thing about not being able to smell is changing a 2 year old's diaper. It's much more pleasant. Imagine cleaning off someones other end but not having to smell it. However pleasant you can imagine doing that - is how pleasant it is. I guess that's one smell I'm not looking forward to.

He calls it his "bandit hat"

Ben asked with lots of pleas if he could wear this hat to school a few mornings ago. I was like, uhh, I don't think the kids or teachers would enjoy seeing you in your hat as much as you think.
And, as a side issue, I'm sure his hair would look lovely by the time he took it off for class.

That's it, I'm washing it tomorrow!

My car is so dirty. And it's not just regular dirt. It's super salty, greasy, gritty, grimy, gross, black dirt. I hate when I have to touch it. I really need to wash it. But it's supposed to snow again several days this week so it will just end up like this again in a few days. A few days ago picking up my kids from school my son said, "I didn't recognize our car, it looks like it's a different color." The white color doesn't help with all this. Yes, the color in this picture should be white. This is not the color of car that I would have chosen first but this is what was available when we purchased this car last summer. Alright, it's a van. But I just can't stop saying car. I've driven only cars for 16 years and it's hard to change the wording in my brain.

Mini boy

Ben shrunk for a short time. I'm so glad that we got pictures of it or else probably no one would believe us.