Brutally honest

Just asked Mairyn if she wanted to learn how to cut out a pattern and help me with a new project. Her response: "Uh, nope." Ok, well, thanks for being honest and not going along and hating it the whole time? Today would be a good day for me to hang this around my neck.

*found here*

They're ba-ack!

Dun-dun-dun. The pink is back and I'm loving every minute of it! And have I said how much I love the camera on my phone! It rocks.

Trippin'

Who doesn't dream? Whether it happens during the day or after consciousness has left our mind, it's bound to happen. I don't always dream. I'll go through cycles of dreams that range from purely inspired imagination to downright crazy nonsense. Last night was one of the latter.

And it was one of those dreams where you find yourself in the middle of it, without knowing how you got there.

I'm walking down the sidewalk of some non-descript town. My sister, Katelyn & her husband are there; along with Pablo, Jill, Talia & Dave, Callie & Reed. Spencer & I are dressed very formally. He's in a tux & I'm a wedding dress. Everyone else is very casual. But no one seems to think we are out of place. We all go to a generic cafe/diner and order up breakfast at midnight. (That, I'm ok with. Breakfast food is ok any time of day) After the needed noshing, we find ourselves back out on the sidewalk looking for a Baskin Robbins. I'm growing a little more uncomfortable, trying to maneuver the street in wedding dress. A really great dress, but a formal frock nonetheless. We find the ice cream and thoroughly enjoy. When everyone starts talking what movie we're going to see, I have to protest. I'm not comfortable anymore and I want to change! I don't want to sit in a movie theater in a wedding dress!!

That's when I find myself in the middle of another situation.

Spencer & I are sitting on the couch in our living room, Skyping with Katelyn. We're watching baby Taylor do not-so-baby-Taylor things like walking. I say, "Oh I just want to hug her!" and so Spence says something very 'Princess Bride-ish' like "As you wish." and begins typing furiously. "Ok, now you can hug her." I lean over the computer screen and fall through the camera all Alice in Wonderland style and find myself in my sister's living room. Chris is in the corner, tying fishing flies. Sagey (the dog) runs over with a stick for me to throw. Katelyn and Taylor come around the corner, all ready to hug! When it's time to go home, I wake up in my dream (Inception, yes, I know) and realize it was just a dream. Then I wake up *for real* and need some Chapstick. 'Cause my lips hurt real bad!

How's that for trippy?

Feeling Alice

"I give myself, very good advice. But I seldom ever follow it." - Alice

Never truer words were spoken.

My fingers are itching to type. All day I have bits & bobs of good ideas bouncing around in my head. One minute I'm sorting laundry, the next I'm having an epiphany on how to phrase the perfect apology. (not that I owe anybody one. but a good line can always come in handy.)

What have I been doing? How could I possibly have a life outside of this computer screen? I'll tell ya, plenty. Rewinding about 2 months, I have ->

- Had PRK Laser eye surgery. Eyes are healed & I am seeing 20/20. Previously: 20/400.
- Waded through more paperwork than I care to think about. Think insurance claims, passport paraphernalia, shot records, school records, and paper for the paper in the paper store with papers, papers, papers. . . . .

*{sidenote}* is it just me or does the word 'paper' look funny? *{end sidenote}*

- Get youngest child's tonsils & adenoids removed.
- Care for youngest child for the next week. Oh, and school just got out three days earlier, so add 3 more children.
- Get international move rolling and all the fun jollies that come with it.
- Take kids to the dentist.
- Get the fence fixed.
- Hire someone to take care of my dandelion farm, formerly known as a 'lawn'.
- Give love & care to each member of my family.
- And think about blogging. Which is really just a procrastination technique for avoiding all of the above.

So please, be patient with me. You have no idea how many 'drafts' I have in my Edit Posts section. Once I get my kids into a school in Bahrain, get my house in order to move, renew 3 offspring's passports and maybe get to the dentist myself, I'll have all the time in the world. And here is where you'll find scintillating stories of substance, essays for the ages and general ramblings of this mentally unstable gal.

Thank you for your time & patience.

*This is Lydia & I approve this blog post.*

Spare Time

I've been spending my spare time filling out applications for these.

That includes the gathering of pertinent documents, making duplicates, taking pictures and paying fees. My magnum opus of the last 2 weeks.

Look how much we've changed since the last ones!

Five years ago. (Except for Jacqui's. Her's was March '09.) Me at the tender age of 26, Grant was 12 months old. Mairyn just one month short of 3. And Eliza at 5 1/2. None in school. All my babies. I think I may cry. Because of the nostalgia & because I'm freakin' done with the applications!!

Eye, Eye, Eye

My eyes, indeed.

The Dr. said there was a reason people don't walk into their office and request PRK laser surgery. It hurts. Big time.

The first three days are the worst and he was right. I never thought I would feel the exact orb of my eyeball burning with stabbing delight.

Yesterday was day 4 and there was amazing improvement. The world still looks blurry, like it's been smeared with vaseline, but at least I don't want to rip my eyeballs out of my head.

Today I go in to have the contact "bandages" taken off by the optometrist. I'm hoping the smeary-ness will be lessened & I can see some real improvement. Though when my vision was tested at the one day mark, I was at 20/40. Quite an improvement from 20/400.

It's still frustrating staring out at the world through a blur. And no heavy reading. Sheesh! What else am I supposed to do? I also have a DVD of the procedure. Spence said it's really cool, but I don't know if I'll ever bring myself to watch it.

Being sincerely compassionate

I had the idea for this post a few months ago. But, like many other things in my life, it takes me this long to even sit down and think about it.

This year, I have been an Iraq widow. My husband, away earning dough in Baghdad, started this whole 'experience' mid-July 2009. Since families are not allowed (nor would I want) to go with, we moved to Rexburg, Idaho. Why? We already owned a house & my in-laws live there. Going from Cairo, Egypt to Rexburg is quite the culture shock. Or should I say, religion shock. I haven't lived around this many Mormons since I was at BYU. A frequent exclamation from my kids was, "Hey Mommy! She goes to our church, too!!" Yes, honey, as does 98% of this town. At least it's a familiar environment, compared to an almost 100% Muslim country.

Being a pseudo-single mom in a mostly Mormon community has not been easy. I just don't think they know what to do with me. Husbands don't want to get caught in the hallway alone around me and the wives, I don't know, maybe don't feel like we have anything in common. If communication could be accomplished, it usually started with,

"Yeah, you're the family that's lived all over the world."

"Uh, nice to meet you too. Seems you know all about me. What's your name?"

I understand that there is an 'exotic' taste to my life. But instead of asking other people, you could just talk to me.

I have tried to reach out; inviting people over for dinner, taking walks through the neighborhood and saying "Hi" to anyone that's out in their yard. Once winter hit, boy, everyone is holed up, including ourselves. But unless you were friends before the flakes started flying, you sure as heck weren't meeting anyone new!

Snow = need to shovel the driveway. We were gone during Thanksgiving for the first snowstorm and when we returned, my driveway was shoveled. Aww, how nice! Thing mostly melted the week before Christmas and then, Christmas Eve, we got our wish of a white Christmas. So, shoveling needed to happen again. I went to Walmart (bless that store), bought a shovel and began digging my way out. My neighbor pulled up & said,

"You know, Sister Penrod, myself & a couple other neighbors are keeping an eye on your driveway. You don't need to get out there and do that!"

Aww, how nice! I finished up the job; because I really don't mind. Seriously, after sweeping up sand for 4 years, I like me some snow! The next snowstorm, I had sick kids, but didn't worry about the drifts because they said I'd be taken care of. Four days passed, still not a shovel in sight. On the evening of the fifth day after the storm, I hear the motor of a snow blower in my driveway. Ok, thanks. But after pulling in and out of the garage twice a day for 5 days, there was some compacting of snow. You know, the grooves of solid ice that mark where you've driven over the snow. And, a snow blower, as fast as it may be, doesn't really do the full job. But hey, beggars can't be choosers, right?

I wanted to just be grateful for what I had. But it was really hard driving past the service givers houses that didn't have those annoying ice grooves and a shoveled walk. (they omitted my stairs & walkway. a snow blower 'doesn't do' stairs.) If you guys like having a shoveled walkway and don't like having twin lumps in the driveway, do you think I like it? I hated feeling like this! I would give myself a time out and push that little sassy, ungrateful monster back down and count my blessings.

Mid-January brought more snow. On top of the snow from previous dumpings, it was quite an impressive amount. And in the deep of winter here in the 'Burg, snow usually doesn't melt between storms. This time, a week and a half after snowfall, and still no sight of any do-gooder. I felt stupid sitting inside, like a princess being waited on. I got sick of looking at everyone else's cleared driveways. I got out my shovel and did it myself. Just as I was finishing up my piece d'resistance, my same neighbor is pulling into his (clean) driveway and gets out to scold me,

"Now, Sister Penrod, I said we were handling your snow this winter! Don't do this again!"

Huh? Now I'm just flabbergasted. I make a concession and hold back the tide of flaming comments that could have been fired upon this lame-o. This pattern continued through out the winter. Snow, Wait, no clean driveway, do it myself. Except I never heard from The Neighbor again.

The Conclusion:
Give service willingly without any thought of recompense. But don't make people on the receiving end feel like beggars. Give service as thoughtfully and completely as you would want it. And don't move to Rexburg. Too much snow.

For more service-oriented posts, ideas & projects, go to The Service Soapbox for more inspiration, reality or good times!

"The Pants"

It is unbelievable. I fit into "The Pants". Those pants. The Pants have been the only 'skinny clothes' I kept from college. Each year, a few more articles of clothing would be angrily discarded. After looking at the size, I'd be disgusted that I was ever that size and tell myself to think realistically about this post-baby body. I'll never have the body I had in college and I never will again. After a baby, well, things change.

I have still hung onto The Pants. Actually, Spencer has been hanging on tooth & nail to The Pants. Whenever we go through a closet purge, they always end up in the top of the closet, tucked just out of sight.

"Why are we keeping The Pants, Spencer?"

"I like them, " he just says.

"But I don't fit them and never will again. Why keep teasing myself?"

"But you wore The Pants on our first date! And you'll fit back into them, it'll be a goal to work toward, " Mr. Eternally Positive says.

So that is how they have managed to hang on. Any time I feel like I've made some progress, like I would dare to dream of a day in The Pants, I get them out and try to shimmy my way into them. Never. In 10 years since the First Baby, never.

Until today.

I put them on.

I didn't have to prostrate myself on the bed, taking shallow breaths, angrily yanking at that zipper while it wouldn't move a millimeter. Or the usual, not being able to fit my knee in past the thigh region.

I put them on. That zipper glided right up the the top and I could swear the button smiled at me as it peeked itself through the buttonhole.

And you know what? Zippers were a lot longer when I was in college. Fashion dictated a higher waistline. They are so retro, they're not cool again. Yet. Maybe that will be the hope I hold onto for the next 10 years. Back to the top of the closet you go.



p.s.
fortunately, i have no one to take a picture of me in Them. And mine don't have those awesome pleats. Though I may have owned a pair similar to these at some point in time.

Moody Monday

My exact sentiments today.



Zip-a-dee-doo-dah

Unlocked

"A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man
knows himself to be a fool."

- William Shakespeare

Being a lone adult in the house can be strangely comforting and unnerving at the same time. Once I'm ready to turn in for the night, I make one last patrol of my fortress. Turning off lights, closing cupboards and locking the doors. Both locks on the front and back ones. I lock the door to the garage, too. I don't know why I do. The garage is locked, no one can get in. Just the van sitting there, shedding icy slush from it's wheel wells on the to cement.

I open the door and flick on the light, just to check on things, make sure everything is in order. You never know, I've found the odd light in the car, left on by five year old fiddling fingers. Once the light is off, I rush to close the door. Like some imaginary troll is waiting for the safety of the dark to rush upon my ankles and drag me back to his sanctuary under the stairs. Bolting it tight, an internal debate volleys in my head. "Just the doorknob lock or the deadbolt, too? Against what? Imaginary beasties? Ok, just the doorknob. Alright, and the deadbolt. Why not?" I rest easy at night, knowing my home is locked up.

I don't know what I'm expecting to see in the morning when I unlock the door. Rotate the lock clockwise *click*, it's unlocked. Talking only to myself in my head, I taunt the unseen, "Come on back, monsters! The sun is shining and I'm not afraid anymore!!" Who am I, or better yet, how old am I? Ten? What do I expect to find? An unrecognizable creature smashed against the door? Crumpled in a pitiful heap, defeated in his efforts to breach the threshold? There is a small sliver of curiosity mixed with the incredulity of my suppositions. But I'm still hoping to be wrong when I am alone and unlocking the doors.

Props & Plugs

I know, this is an easy cop out. I am driven to such distraction, I can't get my own thoughts out right. Getting ready this morning, I just about sprayed myself down with hairspray instead of the perfume bottle. Yes, I put on perfume every day. Bath & Body Works White Citrus to be exact. It's nothing classic like what my Mom wears (which I can't remember right now because I'm just frazzled) but it works for me. I think scent is a very strong memory maker. I can catch the scent of what my mom wears and immediately think of her. We go to her house or she comes to mine, and the scent is what lingers the longest. (do you have to let it linger? yes, yes I do) When I was 12, I got to have a summer visit with my grandparents, all by myself. I was there for 6 weeks or so and when I got back, I put a shirt of mine in a plastic garment bag because I didn't want the smell of grandma's to go away. I have a couple of scents that I wear, but I didn't think my kids noticed until Eliza was about 5. She was helping me pick clothes up and put them in the laundry basket and she lifted my church blouse to her nose and breathed in deeply.

"Ahhhh, it smells like you, Mommy!"

Now, that's not the only reason I wear perfume. I'll go for months without wearing any certain kind, but when I find a scent I like, I stick with it. It also makes me feel pretty, oh so pretty, even when I'm not. Little Black Dress by Avon was a first favorite. Golden Pearls by Avon has also stuck around for a while. I only recently discovered the perfume scents by Bath & Body Works and I love them! White Citrus is just my style; Butterfly Kisses by B&BW works too. I'll take another post to plug their alluring scents, but, as stated earlier, my brain is fried.

To thread one topic into another relation, Cairo is another place full of memory-rific smells. Not always pleasant, but definitely embedded in memories. My friend, Simmone, lives in Cairo with her husband Dan. She is one chick that is full of energy for life. This video is one of her recent projects. Careful, it's a catchy tune. But not in the annoying sense like earlier this week.



**i hope i didn't need a copyright waiver or something. oh well, simmy loves me anyways.**

The Bends

I have hit the parental jackpot. I have all 4 children in school 3 days a week. The older ones go to school every day, but Jacqui has now joined the ranks of preschool. Alhamdu-allah! Sorry, I don't have a picture yet. Friday was her first day and she loved it! Though I would like to add that getting 4 children dressed, fed, lunch packed and out the door is not as easy as it looks. Especially when the two middle ones (7 & 5 yo) already act like teenagers when the morning comes. Both of them wrapped up in their blanket cocoons, wincing when I flip on the light. I have to physically pull the covers off and even still they are left shivering in the fetal position. Or like Mairyn this morning; flopped on her stomach, head under pillow, arms pinned under her torso, left knee pulled up to the ribs, the other leg splayed out and that little, pinchable bum sticking up in the air.

Getting out the door this morning was akin to herding chickens. Because from what I've heard, you can't herd chickens. One headed to the car, another still buttering toast, yet another deciding they needed a second potty break and Jacqueline standing beside me, clutching her lunchbox, asking me if it's time to go to her school. We made it through the slickery roads and once they unloaded, I pulled away from the school, and felt *weird*. Not like I missed them, but that the van was empty. I was having some separation anxiety from my littlest, I mean, she's only 3. Then I reminded myself of the next 6 hours of uninterrupted time I had, and I relaxed a bit. But the thing that doesn't add up, the factor that seems to bend the space time continuum, is that I have less time. How is this possible?

I Hit the gym and had a nice, hot shower by myself. Yes, I didn't have to reach out and help put a doll dress on or get a tissue or let the child get in, too.

**sidenote** And you know what met me when I pulled into my driveway? My next door neighbor, shoveling my snow. He looked up a bit sheepishly and said that he had hoped to get to this yesterday and was apologizing! For what? I thanked him profusely and then he said, "Well, just so you know, there are about 4 of us in the neighborhood that keep an eye on your driveway. So we'll get to it, we don't want to see you out here!" Aw gee, let me go grab a tissue! **end side note**

So I guess it's not a factor of not knowing what to do with myself, it's finding time to cram it all in. I think of something I need to do, then internally argue with myself how I couldn't do it today, and then, the light bulb flicks on and I go, "Oh yeah, I don't have any kids with me!" I may need to bend that continuum further to accommodate all of the ideas I have! Let me say it again, Alhamdulillah!!! Even if it may feel like swimming upstream, I have 19 1/2 hours a week of time to myself. Well, until this Friday when school lets out for the holidays. For 2 weeks. Poo. I'd almost forgotten, getting ahead of myself I guess. Then I will declare it again, as of January 4th, I will have 19 1/2 hours a week of time to myself. To quote Skippyjon Jones (yes, go to the link, it's a wonderful children's book series.): Yip Yipee Yippito!!

I did it . .

I wore them. THE pearls. The pearls that I loved on the display rack & bought, but really didn't think I'd ever be brave enough to wear in public. I wore 'em. Last night was the Relief Society Christmas Dinner and it was "church dress". Well, I actually found out it was church dress after I showed up in my jeans and all the other ladies were clopping their way inside wearing heels and skirts. Crap. Fortunately, I was early because I had a Nativity that would be used as one of the dinner table centerpieces. And double fortunate because we live less than five minutes from the church. AND I had all four kids in tow. Triple fortunate because they had a nursery provided. Whew. I'm worn out. Can I go home yet? Anyway, as much as I wanted to run right back out the door, screaming, people actually complimented me on them! I didn't feel so self-conscious & insecure about wearing them as I thought. Thanks also to my sis that pre-approved the outfit via picture text. Don't you love technology?

Second Dirty Little Secret

Dirty Little Secret #2: The Bump-It

Yes, I owned a set of Bump-Its. But, like my previous confession, it can be explained. In some odd pattern of events, I did use my own hard earned cash on this as well, but it's not what you think. Really! I'm standing in line at WalMart and I notice the Wall o' Sweets has been replaced by "As seen on TV" products. There was some Touch n Bond, What Odor? spray, Snuggies and the Bump-It. Out of sheer boredom beyond my control, I picked up a box and read the back. Spouting the exact crap that is on the T.V. commercial, it touted the 'volumizing effects' and 'stylish hair in seconds'. I can't say I wasn't mildly intrigued; who wouldn't want a low maintenance style with added body? My hair needs all the help it can get! It was $4.99, with just 3 heights. Compared to the $10 T.V. one that has like 6, I was willing to try this over ordering. I tucked it into my cart and put it on the checkout counter under a package of children's socks.

When I got home, I went to work experimenting with this so-called 'wonder product'. I tried all three levels and the only one I didn't feel completely ridiculous in was the teeny mini comb. And with the volume it provided, I could accomplish the same effect with some intense back combing and mousse. And it's not a fast fix, either. You have to back comb, spray, wait to dry, then anchor it, arrange the hair, spray again, ugh. They are uncomfortable and feel like they're going to fall off. I did a pony tail with one in it, and I felt mildly at ease with it in. And I tried the up sweep twist; it looked great, but both times I felt like I had a baby porcupine living on the crown of my head. If I was a reviewer, I'd give it 4 thumbs down. (if I had that many thumbs.)

On that same thread, Mairyn walked in on me whilst I was trying them out. I felt like I'd been caught doing something naughty, and quickly shoved the hairpieces in a drawer.

"What are you doing, Mommy?"
"Nothing, sweetie, just fixing my hair."

She scanned the bathroom, looking for some evidence of misdeeds taking place. I wasn't as sneaky as I thought. The box was teetering on top of a full trash bin, in plain sight.

"Mommy!!" she exclaimed excitedly, "You got Bump-Its!!"
"Ummm, yes?" I said, a bit confused.
"Just like on T.V.! Cool!" she gushed.

Well, I learned two things that afternoon. One, don't try to hide anything from Mairyn, she will find out. And two, she has seen waaay too many commercials. She quizzed me down until I guiltily pulled the pieces out of the drawer. She wanted to know when I would wear them and if she could try them, too! Never and heck, no. She'd look like some overdone kiddie pageant queen. Well, I fibbed a little, I did wear it out in public. Once. It was a humid, sweaty day and my hair was doing nothing except flop flat. I pulled that brown, prickly thing out of hiding from the back of the drawer and put it at the crown of my ponytail. And who should walk in right when I'm placing on my crown of glory? Yep, Mairyn.

"Ooooh, you're wearing the Bump-It!!" she crows.

Yes, I'm wearing the Bump-it. While we're at the family function, Mairyn whispers in my ear, "Can I tell everyone that you're wearing the Bump-It?" No. N-O. No freakin' way. It's my dirty little secret. **p.s.** I have never worn it since nor will I again. Unless it can resurrect itself from the garbage, it ain't coming back.

Dirty Little Secret

We all have one. Or two. A dirty little secret. Some we care to share, others we like to keep in the deep dark corners of our room. I'm willing to admit to two today just because of the stigma attached to them and how hilarious I think they are!

Dirty Little Secret #1: The Snuggie

I admit it. I OWN a Snuggie. I'm not proud of it, but I do have one in my possesion. In my opinion, they are dumb. A backwards robe; just take your bathrobe, turn it around and put it on. Everyone has a snuggie. But mine is an officially licensed namebrand bona-fide real one. How did I get it? Was it gifted? Nope, I spent my own money on it. Why? Because I didn't know what I was buying. At the end of October, we went down to Provo for a weekend. We also went to a BYU football game. (one of only two games they lost this season) At the game, I saw this great poncho; it had sturdy duckcloth on the exterior, a nice embroidered BYU logo on the front, a hood and on the inside; warm, snuggly goodness. It was lined with polar fleece that had BYU logos on it. Perfect for any Cougar fan! They told me where they bought it and my memory remembered 'WalMart'. So we swung by WalMart and I searched high and low for that darn poncho. They were cleaned out of a lot of BYU merchandise. I flagged down an employee and she said, "Oh yeah, it's at the front of the store on an end cap." Perfect. I grabbed the box, threw it in the cart, checked out and ran to the car. We got home and I'm unpacking our loot. (we hit Ikea that weekend too) I open up the supposed poncho box and I pull out a Snuggie. What?? Yes, a college football themed Snuggie. Apparently you can buy them for just about any sports team. I thought I might as well try it since I'm stuck with it. Yes, it does keep you toasty, but my back gets cold. Especially the back of my neck. And those commercials where the fans are wearing a Snuggie then leaping to their feet to cheer on that homerun? Completely impossible. I tried a one person wave on my couch and you just get colder. And I tried turning it around and it doesn't meet evenly in the middle. What's the point? Just put on your robe and quit complaining, people. Oh, and I was mistaken about where the poncho was bought; not WalMart, Costco. Ahhh, that explains a lot.

Dirty Little Secret #2:

Um, let me interrupt. This post has gone on a bit longer than I intended. I won't air all of my dirty secrets today. Besides, I haven't given my Christmas Idea #2 yet.

Christmas Idea #2: Evening Devotional
Have a nightly Christmas themed devotional. A song & poem or story. I am lucky enough to have a book with a scripture, carol and story for each night leading up to Christmas. But here are some great sites that have all of the aforementioned topics available. Last night, the kids and I sang Angels we have heard on High and read the story "The Littlest Angel". If anyone is interested, I can email you the current devotional. Wait, I just had an idea. I'll try and make a sidebar "thing" with the day's scripture, carol & story. We'll see how it works out.

All Things Christmas

North Pole.com

Apples 4 the Teacher

A love affair

Books and me; we've always been bosom buddies. The printed word in any form; magazines, books, newspapers or billboards. I adore them. That's how my mom figured out I needed glasses. I quit reading all the advertisements and billboards. I'm sure it was a bittersweet moment.

I was always impatient at school. Meaning, when the teacher read a book, chapter by agonizing chapter, only one a day, it was torture. I got fed up and would go check the book out from the library, finish reading it that afternoon, and then be at peace for the rest of the month while she read it to the drooling masses. I was perplexed as to how they could just be satisfied with that one measly chapter a day.

And magazines, oh my magazines. Well, not mine, my parent's when I was a kid. National Geographic, Reader's Digest, Highlights, Ranger Rick, The Friend; I could go on and on. That was one of the first things that made me feel 'grown up'; when I got my first magazine subscription to my own place. My address there in the white box. But magazines were my enemy a bit. I still don't understand why the November issue comes out halfway through October. (for some magazines) Other mags would come the first week of the month, but I would have to pace myself or be doomed to remaining new magazine-less for the other 3 weeks of the month. "Okay, only Highlights this week. Then National Geographic next week." And it would be like Christmas, waiting to peel open the cover and see if they really had discovered another Mayan ruin.

And that's how we come to the digital world. I read a lot online. A lot. Mostly my news, but there are other sites (truecrimelibrary.com) that have books & stories. I'm still not completely converted to reading all digital, all the time. I love curling up on the couch with a new read; something to look forward to all day while I shuttle kids or sort laundry. I've been told the Kindle is really great. You can put books, newspaper & magazine subscriptions all in one little device the size of a piece of paper and thick as a cell phone. I have my doubts, but that looks like the future of my books, magazines and newspapers. Though, just one fantasy thought (for me), I could take 10 different books and just as many magazines on the plane with me and have it all in one place. Ooh, the possibilities!

Gardens

I didn't have much opportunity this last month for any creative release. Finishing a basement & moving in really suck up the time. We did manage to escape to the Ricks Gardens. Yes, they are the lush and wonderful gardens on BYU-I campus, but they are named The Thomas E. Ricks Memorial Gardens. Plenty of area for the kids to run and for me to stop and smell the flowers. Of course I took plenty of pictures, but only came out with a few decent ones. Which is how it usually goes.

Current projects

The top one is a "current project" and the bottom one is completed.

The granny square one was intended for someone else, but I just can't part with it. It took a lot longer than I thought and it matches the colors in Jacqueline's room perfectly. Soooo, yeah, it's mine.

I'm pretty sure I'm going to send the striped one to Spencer. I know he won't laugh at the uneven edges. The yellow strings in the middle are where I am TRYING to keep count. I always seem to add or drop a crochet somewhere along the way of 112 double crochets. It keeps me busy during the long, lonely nights.

Higitus Figitus

I feel like Merlin in "The Sword in the Stone". When he's packing up his house to move to the Castle? Except he can cheat. Where does all of this stuff come from? I think it breeds when we're not looking. I know that we are not a small family, but still. Why can't I have a little magic wand to wave over all of this?

"Shrink in size, very small, we've got to make enough room for all."

I have packed the van and I think we may have a couple kids sitting on the floor from here to the hotel in Virginia. I'd do something drastic if I had to travel cross country with all of this. I'll have about a quarter of it gone once Spencer is. Gone, that is. Monday night is the night. We have a fun weekend planned. And tonight begins the fun!

Hallelujah!!

What I thought was not possible, has finally come to pass. You remember back in February when I was hooked on a song that I couldn't download? I found this song, Ensemble, as the background music for this YouTube video I saw. I had to have that song! I looked on iTunes, Amazon, and every other legal means I could find and no such luck. I could stream it and listen on the artist's website, so I just bookmarked the address and went to it when I felt like listening. But it's just not the same. Until now. I was nonchalantly browsing through my old music mixes and I remembered Ensemble. So I searched "Ensemble" by Coeur de Pirate and up it popped. i couldn't believe my eyes!! I did the search again and, like magic, reappeared on my screen! I clicked that "Buy Song" button so fast, the mouse was a blur! It felt like the longest download in the world. But finally, that magic green bar filled and told me that magic had entered my music library. I transferred it to my iPod so I could go cycling with it. And listen to it. Anytime. I. want. Period.



This song is about this girl breaking up with a guy, they had a great story, she misses him and how he should miss her. I just love the tune! ;)

**p.s.** this is the smallest that a youtube video will go. grrrr, irritations. just overlook the sloppiness of it!