You want 'em? I got 'em! Holy cow!!! Is it hot in here or what? I’m thinking it's a good thing I’m doing this chemical menopause in the summer. When I say, “is it hot?” and break out into a sweat, everyone else in the room agrees with me. If I started these shots in December or January, my family would freeze to death. I’d be turning on the air conditioning in the middle of a winter blizzard. On top of paying exorbitant prices for Lupron injections, my annual average electric budget would be blown all to hell... a place whose temperature I am now intimately familiar with.
Wait, it wouldn’t have been such a bad thing. I could have replaced the need for a snow blower. Stop, drop and roll would quench my interior burning and I’d melt the snow off the driveway one body length at a time. Forget snow angels. I’d end up toasting the dormant grass below.
Okay, I’ve had enough of this. I’m out the door to load up on who knows how many 12-packs of Diet Mountain Dew. I’ve checked the ice bin in the freezer. It’ll likely get me through three or four more of these female power surges before I have to restock.
I ask again... Is it hot in here or what???
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Wasps and Rent
Wasps. What is it with Elk Ridge wasps??? They are everywhere. I’ve got a wasp’s nest under practically every eave of my house and all under the back deck. While we’re at it, when I opened my mailbox to get the mail today, three wasps came flying out. Come to think of it... when I pulled the cover off the barbecue Monday night, there were wasps there too.
Here’s the thing about wasps. When they build their nest, they start with this little needle thing. The nest hangs from that needle. If you knock off the nest, but leave the needle, apparently they can find it again and start rebuilding. I wonder if that needle gives off a scent or something.
So, whenever I have my kids knock down a wasp’s nest (I’m not crazy... I don’t do it myself. I had children for two reasons: doing dishes and running interference on any stinging insects. Oh, well, I guess there are three reasons. I also had them so I could have grandchildren to play with.)... anyway, whenever they knock them down, you’ll hear me in the background yelling, “Did you get the needle? Did you get the needle?” My neighbors must think I’m nuts sending my kids out on the roof to look for needles.
Rent. We are currently renting. Still. We moved into this temporary rental situation exactly two years ago. The plan was to be here while we built our house on the building lot we have up the road and around the corner. That was before Elk Ridge City decided to do their thing with tightening up building code requirements and compliance enforcement. Then the economy and real estate market tanked. So, the subdivision that was finally approved, ended up being put on hold by the owners of all the other land. I’m the only landowner in the crowd that intends to actually live in the house I want to build. The others were looking to improve the lots and sell them. But these days, there’s no one to buy them. Finally, losing my job last October, well, let’s just say it has altered the family budget so we’re not exactly flush with construction funds ourselves right now.
So... here we are still in the rental. I never really moved in back in July ‘07 since I figured we wouldn’t be here long. We have a two-car garage that houses no cars, because it’s chalk full of boxes of all our earthly belongings. If someone can’t find something they’re looking for in the house, my retort is usually, well, it’s in a box in the garage. Funny, the things you live without that you packed up and brought with you because you couldn’t live without them.
Two years. Geesh. I should’ve actually moved in. Oh well.
Rent and wasps. So, there are literally wasp nests in every gable of the house. But, hey, it’s a rental. You don’t exactly see me scaling the rooftop to get rid of them. Or even calling an exterminator to have them removed. Maybe the wasps have picked up on my laissez faire attitude. That’s why they are all making a bee-line for my house.
Here’s the thing about wasps. When they build their nest, they start with this little needle thing. The nest hangs from that needle. If you knock off the nest, but leave the needle, apparently they can find it again and start rebuilding. I wonder if that needle gives off a scent or something.
So, whenever I have my kids knock down a wasp’s nest (I’m not crazy... I don’t do it myself. I had children for two reasons: doing dishes and running interference on any stinging insects. Oh, well, I guess there are three reasons. I also had them so I could have grandchildren to play with.)... anyway, whenever they knock them down, you’ll hear me in the background yelling, “Did you get the needle? Did you get the needle?” My neighbors must think I’m nuts sending my kids out on the roof to look for needles.
Rent. We are currently renting. Still. We moved into this temporary rental situation exactly two years ago. The plan was to be here while we built our house on the building lot we have up the road and around the corner. That was before Elk Ridge City decided to do their thing with tightening up building code requirements and compliance enforcement. Then the economy and real estate market tanked. So, the subdivision that was finally approved, ended up being put on hold by the owners of all the other land. I’m the only landowner in the crowd that intends to actually live in the house I want to build. The others were looking to improve the lots and sell them. But these days, there’s no one to buy them. Finally, losing my job last October, well, let’s just say it has altered the family budget so we’re not exactly flush with construction funds ourselves right now.
So... here we are still in the rental. I never really moved in back in July ‘07 since I figured we wouldn’t be here long. We have a two-car garage that houses no cars, because it’s chalk full of boxes of all our earthly belongings. If someone can’t find something they’re looking for in the house, my retort is usually, well, it’s in a box in the garage. Funny, the things you live without that you packed up and brought with you because you couldn’t live without them.
Two years. Geesh. I should’ve actually moved in. Oh well.
Rent and wasps. So, there are literally wasp nests in every gable of the house. But, hey, it’s a rental. You don’t exactly see me scaling the rooftop to get rid of them. Or even calling an exterminator to have them removed. Maybe the wasps have picked up on my laissez faire attitude. That’s why they are all making a bee-line for my house.
Monday, June 22, 2009
The Big Month
So, I’ve already talked about the Father’s Day events. But, June has ended up being a big, huge month of events around here, so here’s the update on the rest of things.
Rachel and Rob had a great honeymoon trip in Puerto Vallarta. After they got back, the Captain and I met them at Cracker Barrel for breakfast and got to hear all about their Mexican adventures.(Ask them about the 4-wheeler ride sometime if you want to catch a glimpse into living on the edge.)
Later, we went to their cute apartment to watch them open wedding gifts. Yes, for all you smart alecks, the Mountain Dew was from me! (just kidding)
Rob put out quite a spread... Mexican theme, of course. Muy delicioso.
June is also the big birthday month in the family. Spencer on the 16th, Jon on the 17th and Rob on the 18th. We split the difference and had everyone come over on the 17th for steaks on the grill and birthday cake.
And then there's this... Hmmmmm....
And, finally, may I say... the Eagle projects are officially DONE! Spencer actually did his project a few months ago, but this month he was getting all his final paperwork turned in to beat his birthday deadline. Jon, on the other hand, waited until June 15th to even do his project, and had to have it and all paperwork completed by the 16th at 8:30pm. The project took two days. The first day, there were mainly ward Scouting people there to help him in the morning, and then Matt and I came in the afternoon. The second day, it was the family troops that saved the day. The Captain took the day off from work. Katie decided it was the best way to distract her from Garrett’s pending entrance into the MTC and, since her best friend is a true friend forever, Kylee Hill and her little brother Porter (all of 13 years old and so stinkin’ cute) came along as well. So, the Captain and I manned one booth. Katie and Kylee worked another one, and Porter walked around giving out the promotional handbills to everyone. Then in the afternoon, Matt and Jaime came to take the next shift. In the end, Jon had enough hours and got all the paperwork written up and submitted.
I guess that means there will be a couple Eagle Courts of Honor later this summer.
Rachel and Rob had a great honeymoon trip in Puerto Vallarta. After they got back, the Captain and I met them at Cracker Barrel for breakfast and got to hear all about their Mexican adventures.(Ask them about the 4-wheeler ride sometime if you want to catch a glimpse into living on the edge.)
Later, we went to their cute apartment to watch them open wedding gifts. Yes, for all you smart alecks, the Mountain Dew was from me! (just kidding)
Rob put out quite a spread... Mexican theme, of course. Muy delicioso.
June is also the big birthday month in the family. Spencer on the 16th, Jon on the 17th and Rob on the 18th. We split the difference and had everyone come over on the 17th for steaks on the grill and birthday cake.
And then there's this... Hmmmmm....
And, finally, may I say... the Eagle projects are officially DONE! Spencer actually did his project a few months ago, but this month he was getting all his final paperwork turned in to beat his birthday deadline. Jon, on the other hand, waited until June 15th to even do his project, and had to have it and all paperwork completed by the 16th at 8:30pm. The project took two days. The first day, there were mainly ward Scouting people there to help him in the morning, and then Matt and I came in the afternoon. The second day, it was the family troops that saved the day. The Captain took the day off from work. Katie decided it was the best way to distract her from Garrett’s pending entrance into the MTC and, since her best friend is a true friend forever, Kylee Hill and her little brother Porter (all of 13 years old and so stinkin’ cute) came along as well. So, the Captain and I manned one booth. Katie and Kylee worked another one, and Porter walked around giving out the promotional handbills to everyone. Then in the afternoon, Matt and Jaime came to take the next shift. In the end, Jon had enough hours and got all the paperwork written up and submitted.
I guess that means there will be a couple Eagle Courts of Honor later this summer.
Goin' With the Flow... or Catchin' What Life Throws
So... sometimes it doesn’t make a hill of beans difference what you plan to do for Father’s Day. Sometimes... well, the hospital has to be staffed and that means your spouse, who almost never works Sundays, is suddenly working a Sunday. Father’s Day Sunday, no less. And... no mention of it to anyone until the night before it’s supposed to happen. Grrrrr! Good thing I’m such a football fan. I know how to punt at the last minute.
Have car (and casserole dishes). Will travel. We just packed up the dinner (modified a little, but hey, flexibility is a strength, right?), and took it to him. Our regular Sunday dinner crowd all made it, including Matt (my nephew) and Jaime (our honorary older daughter).
Hospitals are weird places. Who knew you could have your own wheelchair Olympics in the hallway outside the CT department? Who knew the gold and silver medalists would look like such... dorks?
Now, on another note... it’s been a somber week for Katie. Garrett (the boyfriend) went into the MTC last Wednesday. I remember when I sent boyfriends out into the field. I believe my mother would have described the aftermath as ‘weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth.’ Katie is, of course, much more controlled and subdued a personality (encouraging to think the ‘drama queen’ gene may not have been passed on to another generation). No wailing. No gnashing of teeth. Just a lot of dignified sorrow and heartbreaking quiet tears. Man, that’s hard to watch as a mother! We wish Garrett well and hope his mission is a great experience for him.
Oh, and for those of you who might be feeling caught in a bit of deja vu,... yes, there was a different boyfriend who went out over a year ago. That would be "the old boyfriend." This one is considered "the real boyfriend." Okay, so that part definitely did get passed down from one generation to another. Her mother did the same thing. But at least Katie has the good sense not to have two boyfriends end up called to the same mission. Uh... her mother wasn't so smart.
Speaking of missions... less than six months to go and Kauheke Chichoni comes back from New Zealand.
Have car (and casserole dishes). Will travel. We just packed up the dinner (modified a little, but hey, flexibility is a strength, right?), and took it to him. Our regular Sunday dinner crowd all made it, including Matt (my nephew) and Jaime (our honorary older daughter).
Hospitals are weird places. Who knew you could have your own wheelchair Olympics in the hallway outside the CT department? Who knew the gold and silver medalists would look like such... dorks?
Now, on another note... it’s been a somber week for Katie. Garrett (the boyfriend) went into the MTC last Wednesday. I remember when I sent boyfriends out into the field. I believe my mother would have described the aftermath as ‘weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth.’ Katie is, of course, much more controlled and subdued a personality (encouraging to think the ‘drama queen’ gene may not have been passed on to another generation). No wailing. No gnashing of teeth. Just a lot of dignified sorrow and heartbreaking quiet tears. Man, that’s hard to watch as a mother! We wish Garrett well and hope his mission is a great experience for him.
Oh, and for those of you who might be feeling caught in a bit of deja vu,... yes, there was a different boyfriend who went out over a year ago. That would be "the old boyfriend." This one is considered "the real boyfriend." Okay, so that part definitely did get passed down from one generation to another. Her mother did the same thing. But at least Katie has the good sense not to have two boyfriends end up called to the same mission. Uh... her mother wasn't so smart.
Speaking of missions... less than six months to go and Kauheke Chichoni comes back from New Zealand.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
The Demise of the Kingfisher II
Yes. It happened. Our houseboat, the Kingfisher II, sunk last week in the Bullfrog Marina at Lake Powell. They pulled her up from 80 feet of water. Heck of a storm, they said. Four foot swells in the covered slip area means likely double that out on the buoys where the Kingfisher was. Sixty mile-an-hour winds and eight foot swells. Unrelenting, not letting her get her bearings or catch her breath. Keeping her disoriented and off-balance. It was more than she could withstand. Some things are like that.
They've got her at Offshore right now. The Captain heard from the president of our houseboat shareholders association. He sounds like he thinks she's not salvageable. I hear my father-in-law is going down on Friday to take a look.
I've spent a long time trying to figure out how I feel about this. I think I'm okay with letting this be the end of the voyage for her. For awhile we imagined that she could be repaired. We figured she'd need a new name... like maybe the "Born Again" (since the whole immersion thing definitely happened!) or perhaps the "Coming Up for Air" or something along those lines. But the more I think about it, the more I have embraced the idea that things change. Times change. I confess that while so many of the images in my memory of my time and the faces of the people who were with me at Lake Powell bring me soul-deep smiles inside, not all my memories about being aboard the Kingfisher II are happy ones. Perhaps I like the idea of being able to disassociate from that.
But, at the same time, I'm hoping there will be lots of years making new memories at Lake Powell... seeing my children and their friends (for now) and their spouses and children (in the future) jumping off the side of a different houseboat, coming down into the galley for Monte Cristo sandwiches, having toilets that consistently flush, riding around the grottos and inlets in a ski boat, and having to remind myself to inhale when the beauty of Lake Powell takes my breath away as we turn into the Escalante.
My kids have happy memories and for that I'm grateful. Had it not been for her existence, I would likely never have been introduced to Lake Powell -- now one of my favorite places on earth. For that, I'm grateful, too. I don't suppose Davy Jones' locker applies to inland lakes... but nevertheless... a fond farewell to the Kingfisher II.
They've got her at Offshore right now. The Captain heard from the president of our houseboat shareholders association. He sounds like he thinks she's not salvageable. I hear my father-in-law is going down on Friday to take a look.
I've spent a long time trying to figure out how I feel about this. I think I'm okay with letting this be the end of the voyage for her. For awhile we imagined that she could be repaired. We figured she'd need a new name... like maybe the "Born Again" (since the whole immersion thing definitely happened!) or perhaps the "Coming Up for Air" or something along those lines. But the more I think about it, the more I have embraced the idea that things change. Times change. I confess that while so many of the images in my memory of my time and the faces of the people who were with me at Lake Powell bring me soul-deep smiles inside, not all my memories about being aboard the Kingfisher II are happy ones. Perhaps I like the idea of being able to disassociate from that.
But, at the same time, I'm hoping there will be lots of years making new memories at Lake Powell... seeing my children and their friends (for now) and their spouses and children (in the future) jumping off the side of a different houseboat, coming down into the galley for Monte Cristo sandwiches, having toilets that consistently flush, riding around the grottos and inlets in a ski boat, and having to remind myself to inhale when the beauty of Lake Powell takes my breath away as we turn into the Escalante.
My kids have happy memories and for that I'm grateful. Had it not been for her existence, I would likely never have been introduced to Lake Powell -- now one of my favorite places on earth. For that, I'm grateful, too. I don't suppose Davy Jones' locker applies to inland lakes... but nevertheless... a fond farewell to the Kingfisher II.
Monday, May 18, 2009
I Need More Sabbaths
That's it. That's just the way it is. I need more Sabbaths in my week... in my life. Funny how we come stumbling and tired into Sunday, after a week of being out and about in the business and busy-ness of our lives. I don't know about you, but sometimes as the week progresses on, the potential of life begins to feel less tangible and more theoretical. And then Sunday comes. Usually, my house is a complete disaster, my thoughts and internal drive even more jumbled and unpurposeful than my unmade bed and stacked sink of dishes. I walk into church and within a few minutes... whooosh. I'm grounded again (in the good sense, not the teen-age disciplinary sense).
This Sunday was no exception. In fact, it ended up being even better than most. It was Stake Conference. The Captain and I attended both the Saturday night adult session as well as Sunday morning. Hence my declaration: I need more Sabbaths. What an additional boost that Saturday night session was to me. Just that one night, there were excellent talks given regarding "Living After the Manner of Happiness," "Couple Missionary Work," (my fondest hope, by the way), "Strengthening Marriage," "Progression through Temple Participation and Meaning" (given by Merrill Bateman, currently the president of the Provo Temple -- can I just say "WOW?!?!?" What a talk. I was riveted. I'm also leaving in about 45 minutes to go to the temple, so, um, yeah, he was effective), and "The Responsibility of Fathers and Grandfathers."
The next day was just as uplifting and thought-provoking.
Saturday night, we sat a row behind my good friend's husband (she was speaking so she was on the stand). Anyway, I noticed that he had brought a hard-bound book (like a journal) and was taking notes in it. That really made me think. Especially once President Bateman got started and I was wishing more than anything I had some paper to take some notes to record not just what he was teaching but also the personal thoughts and reflections those teachings were causing me to have. Brother Graham (the man in front of me) is a very good man. He's a retired physician. He and his wife have raised four children. He's a previous bishop. He and his wife returned a few years ago from a mission to Central American (they met Brett there while he was serving in El Salvador). Both he and his wife served missions to Mexico when they were young and single. And there he sat, taking notes in a book that he uses exclusively for taking notes at church meetings. I wonder how long he's been doing that. Could it be that the purpose of that notebook has been to spread a little Sabbath throughout the weeks of his life instead of simply one day during the weekends? And... more interestingly, I wonder about the correlation between that simple practice and the accumulated experiences of his life to date. Cause and effect? I'd like to think so. And I'd like the same results of a life well-lived.
Whaddya know??? A way to have more Sabbaths. So, Sunday morning I went to Conference armed with my new "Sabbath during the week" notebook. I took notes. I recorded what was pertinent to me at the time. And during the week, as the week drones on and drains the tangible sense of the Gospel from the purpose of each day, I can pull out that notebook and escape for a few minutes. Remember the teachings. Remember the impressions from a previous Sunday's instructions. And voila... a mini-Sabbath during the week.
Thanks Brother Graham. Oh, and yes, I'll be calling him today and asking him for a copy of his notes from President Bateman's talk. If any of you are interested, I'd be happy to share those things he taught. They really were amazing.
This Sunday was no exception. In fact, it ended up being even better than most. It was Stake Conference. The Captain and I attended both the Saturday night adult session as well as Sunday morning. Hence my declaration: I need more Sabbaths. What an additional boost that Saturday night session was to me. Just that one night, there were excellent talks given regarding "Living After the Manner of Happiness," "Couple Missionary Work," (my fondest hope, by the way), "Strengthening Marriage," "Progression through Temple Participation and Meaning" (given by Merrill Bateman, currently the president of the Provo Temple -- can I just say "WOW?!?!?" What a talk. I was riveted. I'm also leaving in about 45 minutes to go to the temple, so, um, yeah, he was effective), and "The Responsibility of Fathers and Grandfathers."
The next day was just as uplifting and thought-provoking.
Saturday night, we sat a row behind my good friend's husband (she was speaking so she was on the stand). Anyway, I noticed that he had brought a hard-bound book (like a journal) and was taking notes in it. That really made me think. Especially once President Bateman got started and I was wishing more than anything I had some paper to take some notes to record not just what he was teaching but also the personal thoughts and reflections those teachings were causing me to have. Brother Graham (the man in front of me) is a very good man. He's a retired physician. He and his wife have raised four children. He's a previous bishop. He and his wife returned a few years ago from a mission to Central American (they met Brett there while he was serving in El Salvador). Both he and his wife served missions to Mexico when they were young and single. And there he sat, taking notes in a book that he uses exclusively for taking notes at church meetings. I wonder how long he's been doing that. Could it be that the purpose of that notebook has been to spread a little Sabbath throughout the weeks of his life instead of simply one day during the weekends? And... more interestingly, I wonder about the correlation between that simple practice and the accumulated experiences of his life to date. Cause and effect? I'd like to think so. And I'd like the same results of a life well-lived.
Whaddya know??? A way to have more Sabbaths. So, Sunday morning I went to Conference armed with my new "Sabbath during the week" notebook. I took notes. I recorded what was pertinent to me at the time. And during the week, as the week drones on and drains the tangible sense of the Gospel from the purpose of each day, I can pull out that notebook and escape for a few minutes. Remember the teachings. Remember the impressions from a previous Sunday's instructions. And voila... a mini-Sabbath during the week.
Thanks Brother Graham. Oh, and yes, I'll be calling him today and asking him for a copy of his notes from President Bateman's talk. If any of you are interested, I'd be happy to share those things he taught. They really were amazing.
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