We live

Yes, we live.




We are a little more than 2 days in off the plane and are at least feeling normal for part of the day. I'm getting rolling with finding school solutions for the kids, getting a phone, etc. I would rather just crawl under a rock & leave a sign saying, "Wake me when it's over" but, alas, since I am the only responsible adult, I have to do it. I'll fill in the trip & such soon. For now, let me share with you a video that had my sides aching. I needed a good laugh.

Come out, come out!

That phrase always makes me think of Glenda the Good Witch in the Wizard of Oz. "Come out, come out, wherever you are/To see the young lady/who fell from a star" But we're not calling on the good citizens of Munchkinland, we're calling for fairies! This weekend, we made fairy houses. And Grant made a sprite house. He said fairies were only girls, so I told him sprites were boys. Whaddaya gonna do?

I made little villages under trees and in the bushes when I was little. The premise is that if you build a little house for the fairies, they'll come live in it. But not if you don't keep it pretty & only use things found in nature, so that it will blend in, just like the fairies & sprites.

This is Eliza's house. She had a brilliant idea to tie the twigs together with long grass to make arches for the roof. And she's pretty proud of that little 'bed'. And that's a fairy scarecrow, to show the fairies that it's safe to sleep here.

This is Mairyn's house. She may have had a little help from me, but she did the decor. See the yard for the fairy? That date tree bark has a little hollow in it, that's the bath. She did find a discarded piece of blue cord and that's the towel rack. It is man-made, but hey, we're running a bit short on acorn caps and pine needles.


Here's some shots of the girls deep in their labor of love. It took some convincing; it's still a bit warm outside & who can blame them. Who wouldn't want to hang inside in the A/C instead of crouching under a tree in 99F weather? I made some lemonade & fairy snacks for them & we sat in the shade weaving little ladders for the playground and tying plumeria leaf stems together. I wanted this to be some 'creative independent playtime', but it turned into a whole girl affair. You won't see much of Grant. He liked the idea, but ultimately found more joy in digging holes & climbing trees. And destroying some of his sister's creations.

Jacqueline: Ga-rant! You woo-ind my house! {translation: grant, you ruined my house}
Grant: Well, something would have ruined it! That's why you make them, then they'll be ruined!

{I prefaced all this house building with the reminder to only use things found outdoors, naturally, so if the wind blew it over & it got ruined, it wouldn't pollute the fairy's habitat. My reasoning: when they are abandoned next week, I won't have trash blowing all over the yard. But the whole nature thing, too. ;) And I saw this as a big insight into the boy's reasoning. You make things so they can be ruined. The whole build a lego tower then knock it over doesn't seem so pointless anymore.

Cravings

I have been having withdrawals for the last 7 years. That's how long it's been since I've had anything from Butte Creek Mill. This mill was built and began operation in 1872. On the banks of Butte Creek, pioneers erected a central mill where farmers brought their grain to be made into flour, cereal and cornmeal. And the stone has been grinding along in Eagle Point ever since. I grew up with their buckwheat pancakes and steel cut oats wherever my family lived. My grandmother would send my mom the mixes monthly. Those pancakes slathered with applesauce, steaming in a lovely pile on my plate; best foodie childhood memory, hands down. My sister and I ventured to the Mill and were catapulted back in time. Pushing opening the squeaky spring-loaded door, warm drafts of cinnamon enveloped us with open arms, welcoming us home. The black wood-burning potbellied stove crackled in the corner with a pan of spiced apples bubbling away on top. The amount of goodies had grown over the years. Rough hewn shelves groaned under their burdens of cracked wheat and cornmeal. Sacks of oatmeal, spelt flour and soup mixes lay in orderly rows while jars of spices sat behind the century old plank board counter. We both loaded our arm baskets with an assortment of goodies; hoping it's enough to tide us over. For how long? Definitely not 7 years.

Long time gone . . .

It has been 7 years since I've been in Southern Oregon. I am ashamed it has been so long. I love this area. We stopped about 25 minutes away from Grandma & Grandpa's house to take a roadside potty break (Mairyn couldn't hold it ANY LONGER!) When I opened the car door, the fresh smell of wet pine and earth came flooding in and I was almost in tears. Oregon, my Oregon, I am home. Having always had a very mobile life (Dad, 20 years in the Air Force) we moved a lot. The saying goes, "Home is where your household goods are delivered", and my Mom did a wonderful job of creating an oasis in the middle of whatever state we moved to. But when we would go to Grandma & Grandpa's, we went HOME. H-O-M-E, home. Familiar places, food and faces were around every corner. We would spend every summer in Southern Oregon. Going to the dairy to buy squeaky cheese (cheese curds), visiting the Jacksonville Children's museum, picking blackberries; I could go on and on. I am practically giddy with warm fuzzies! It rained our first night, and in the morning, with the mist slowly rising out of the valley and the sun peeking through the pines, the Rogue River flowing along, I could hardly stand it. I am home!

Uplifting Moments

On Friday, I was motoring along the West Yellowstone Highway when my phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Yes, this is Sally from Sassy Floral and I am on your porch with a floral delivery."

"Oh!" I said, trying to hide my surprise, "How nice!"

"Can I leave it with your neighbor or on the doorstep?"

"Uh, I'll be home in 3 minutes, you can just leave it there."

I was just 3 minutes from home. I pulled up and there was this sitting on the front steps.



(sorry, I didn't take a pic on the front step. it's freakin' cold here!!)

Spencer had sent me flowers. Just because. It sure brightened my day!

Our Mini-moon!

No, I'm not talking about baby bums. Spencer's last weekend here, he surprised me by whisking me away to some Mayan ruins. Yes, and they exist right here in Rexburg. About a mile down the road, at the AmericInn.

I thought Spencer was acting a bit . . . funny. We had discussed having a date night that weekend, just the two of us. I started urging him that we needed to find a babysitter, trying to figure out what we wanted to do, where to go, etc. He just kept saying, "Oh, we'll figure it out." It was Thursday night, I told him we needed to figure out something, fast! He finally caved and said that his mom was watching the kids and that, since we would probably be late, it'd be a good idea to pack their pj's, toothbrushes, etc.



Ok, good! I kept needling him for input on where we should eat, what we should do. He just said we'd 'go with the flow'. Whatever that means. Well, mid-afternoon on Friday afternoon hits, and he says to pack my bags, we're leaving! He'd arranged for his mom to pick the kids up and finally revealed that we were staying overnight somewhere! We drove a mile down the road and pulled into the AmericInn parking lot. Not very far, but hey, when we had leftovers from dinner and no fridge in the hotel room, we just drove back & put them in the fridge at home.



We stayed in the Mayan Ruins themed room. (and i discovered a fridge behind the door painted to look like a crumbling wall.) Fireplace, jacuzzi, king size bed, and a huge TV. To add more icing to the cake; Spencer got up early, picked up the kids and let me sleep in. I stayed all morning; had a leisurely breakfast, luxurious bath and precious alone time. I felt so pampered!

My Prrrrecious . . .

As Gollum is wont to worship the Ring, I have hoarded an adulation in secret for far too long . . . A piano of my own.

During our 4 years in Egypt, I spent the first year tracking down pianos to rent. At the turning of one year, I found a Piano Guy. The adventures that ensued were painful and arduous, and will be given full justice in retelling, but that's for another day. The purpose of today's tale is the acquisition. I obtained my piano and there it resided in my living room for the next 3 years. Egypt time came to a close and the music maker was returned to Piano Guy.

We returned to the States and I have been in withdrawals. Not that I consider myself a concert pianist. I don't play that well. I took lessons all through my childhood, but quit at the age of 11.In retrospect (as all past experiences are viewed) that was not a very smart choice on my part. Don't worry, I have a little version of myself turning 11 in a short year and a half, so not to worry about karma. I rediscovered the piano while I was studying in Spain my senior year of high school. It became my escape and I retaught myself many things. Though I don't think I've regained my former glory. Für Elise will never be topped nor will it ever be lived down. Ever.

Moving on to college, I was grateful for the pianos in the dorm basement. I spent many a happy hour, twinkling away my worries on those delicate ivories. The rest of the building is probably thankful for the soundproofing in that studio. Once I got married, we inherited a wonderful digital keyboard from my sister-in-law, Callie. We still have it. I would pull it out occasionally, but it was usually kept out of reach from the sticky fingers of my offspring.

Coming full round again, I have managed to keep a piano in my peripheral most of my life. But never have I owned one all my own. Which comes to the purpose of this story, how to get a piano. I was listening to the radio the other day and kept hearing advertisements for a piano sale. The BYU-I music department has a sale every year. They have music labs and sell their pianos every year. Nice. So I figured out where said sale was (it was not easy to find) and wandered in with Jacqui in tow. I plunked on a couple keys and drooled over the black, glossy baby grands. Even though I knew my reality would be a digital piano. I'm not the biggest fan of keyboards, but let's be realistic. What with all of our gallivanting around the globe, it's not that easy to lug a +1000 lb object to each residence. That and the challenge of finding someone to tune it each time we move. And periodic tunings in country.

Digital keyboard have made great leaps and bounds past their ancestors. The biggest hurdle I faced when trying to convince myself that a keyboard was the real thing was the feedback in my fingers. Also, . . . . . wait, I'm boring you, aren't I? The main point is, I'm now pleased with the advances of digital pianos. Enough so that I took the plunge. I bought a Kawai CP117. (another statistic you don't care about either, huh?) Basically, it's a freakin' sweet piano!!! That I bought for a song! And a little dance if you count Jacqui's meltdown in the middle of the showroom! I was having a bit of buyer's remorse for the rest of the day. Rethinking to myself, "I don't remember playing EVERY key. Do they all work? And I didn't try out EVERY function! What if . . . ?" Then it was delivered. All uncertainty melted away. I sat down and played to my heart's content. I played a song for my babies before bed. I got up when I couldn't sleep and played MY piano. My. Piano.

Death of a Box Fan

The poor, poor fan. It has served us well. This $15 fan was bought at least 8 years ago. When we were starving students at BYU, the apartments we lived in did not have any central cooling system to speak of, just heating. Our little two bedroom apartment had the sun beating down on the front side, facing west-southwest, for a majority of the day. The first summer we lived there, we could not afford a window air conditioner. But we both worked days and just suffered through the evenings. The next summer rolled around and I had a 5 month old and was going to be home most days. We needed an air conditioner. So we scrimped and ate noodles for a month, and bought an AC and a fan to circulate it to the rest of the apartment. It was wonderful!!

Time passed and we moved on, graduating and moving to Virginia. We lived in a townhouse that had central air, but good 'ol boxy still got plugged in every night and provided back ground noise for sleeping Grant. Or to blow out the fumes from a dinner gone wrong.

More time passed and we moved to Egypt. Boxy sat unused for the first year because, yet again, we had central air. But the next year, Jacqueline was born and the need for a white noise maker came about again. Every night, we switched it on and (usually) we all slept in bliss. When we packed out and the fan was gone, there were some sleepless nights without our resident white noise.

Now, we are in yet another location and in need of cooling. Yep, this place does not come equipped with central air. Although, south western Idaho is borderline when it comes to NEEDING central air. I bought two window air conditioners and we are doing fine. We just needed the fans to circulate the icy air. Then two nights ago, Mairyn comes into my room. **

"Mommy, the fan stopped."

I stumbled out of bed and checked Boxy. Sure enough, it had quit. The motor part was hot hot hot. Fortunately, we had a spare fan and I leaned Boxy against the wall. In the morning, I plugged him back in and flipped the switch. Nope, no air stirring in this bad boy at all. It was a bit sad. This old box fan has been a part of our life as long as most of our children. I didn't cry (much) but it will be a sad morning tomorrow when the trash man comes and hauls it away. We will miss you, Boxy. You served us well.



**Mairyn has a creepy way of coming into my room at night when I'm sleeping. She doesn't touch my shoulder, or poke my side or try shaking me awake. She just comes up to the bed, leans in close so we are nose to nose and starts stage whispering. "MOMMY! THE FAN QUIT BLOWING!!" Thank you, Mairyn, so so much.

A thing of beauty . . .

This picture does not need any words. But maybe an explanation. It's beautiful! Can I tell you how beautiful this package of chicken is? It's fresh. Not frozen. I decided on the spur of the moment to make chicken curry for dinner and I could. I didn't have to plan 2 days beforehand, repackage the frozen slabs to ziploc bags and defrost them in the fridge. Or, if I forgot to defrost and we HAD to have chicken, sticking each individual slab in the microwave on defrost, flip at the beeps, and still not have a defrosted piece 'o' chicken. It's boneless. Not some scrawny bird that's more bone than meat. It's cheap. Well, it was cheap before, but the quality thereof was exceedingly lacking. It was tender. Not stringy, tough, gamey or freezer burned. I had a delectable curry on the table in 25 minutes. That. Is. Beautiful.

Saturday in Annapolis

No, we don't have any ties to Annapolis or the Naval Academy. We just like it. A lot. I love Annapolis. The Bay and the old streets and houses. It just feels good there. We went around the Naval Academy Museum, and the campus. The weather was just perfect. Some people were complaining that it was a little warm. "A little warm"? C'mon, you're talking to a Cairo family here, we can take the heat. We finished up the day at Buddy's Crabs & Ribs. A visit to Annapolis is not complete without eating there. We hit the classic Saturday buffet. And it's not the bad kind of buffet, it's the greatest. And I was in the mood for crab legs as well. Truly, you really have to be in the right frame of mind to eat fresh crab. A lotta work for not a whole lotta meat. But it's the sweetest, buttery-est (is too a word) mouthful that will ever pass your lips. Spencer went to the other end of the spectrum and had the fall-off-the-bone ribs. Win-win situation in my book. Oh, and kids eat free. Win-win-win.

Tiptoe Through the Tulips

Happy Mother's Day!
I had a great Mother's Day. Flowers, cards and a nap. What more is needed? I am so grateful and blessed to be a Mother. Here are some flowers for my Mom and whoever didn't get flowers!

A few of my favorite things

Children playing quietly and the youngest is napping! I found a Legos store at the nearby mall and the perfect set of 650 pieces. Ahh, peace and quiet. Most of the time.

We went over to one of my favorite old haunts, Wegmans. Ah, Wegmans, you were the light of my life . . . aaand, oh where was I? Oh yes, the grocery store that we will all shop at in the celestial kingdom. They have everything. And, they are one of the only stores that has a generic brand that I actually like. When we were in college, I would buy Campbell's even when we were students because I disliked the generic store brand soups so much. Nay no, burrito. Not so with Wegmans. Their Mediterranean bar is overflowing (not really, but I needed a comparison) with hummus, olives, different pickled & marinated things and wonderful, glorious fresh mozzarella. This is the pearl size. Love, love, love it. I will miss not having this out west.

Clear, blue, clean skies! It has rained since we got in Sunday night. Not that I'm complaining, I love the rain. Rain is wonderful; the only thing better than rain is a thunderstorm. Fresh air and the smell of wet earth; do they make that scent for Glade Plug-ins? The clouds finally cleared and the sun came out! This tree is right outside our bedroom window. The kids saw it and started singing, 'Popcorn Popping on the Apricot Tree'.