Oh! And!

We have grass! I told the dude it would grow! Come gaze fondly at it with me if you wish. I don't have anything yummy for you to eat like most of my family would, but we can gaze out the kitchen window together. Besides isn't a feast for the eyes enough?

Joy

This is perhaps one of my favorite times of year. I love the colors, I love the decorations. But mostly I love... The way everyone seems to take on a new outlook. People are nicer. And even better than that.... People actually talk about Jesus. What a huge blessing that is. What an incredible gift his life is to us. How grateful I am for the gospel of Jesus Christ and the joy that it brings to our lives.

Let marinate over night

A poem
by me. (and that's pronounced "Ah! poe-ehm" not "Uh pom")

I have been pondering many things
(including cabbages and self-appointed kings
--really, truly, I have).
But none of them are fully marinated enough to share.
So you shall have to wait.
A little bit longer.
While I ask (insert artful sigh here)
one more person to, "Please push your chair in,"
NOW!


Please do not be alarmed. That last emphatic bit was not said out loud. The poor dears would cower or laugh in my face. It depends if I wore makeup that day or not.

Perhaps...too much?

"Miss Eye?"
"Yes?"
"I think you should be Miss Black today."
"Oh, really? Why?"
"Your shirt is black, your shoes are black, your ring is black, your watch is black, and your fingernails are black." And with that they walked off contented that they had righted the world by changing my name.

Perhaps too much black?

On to a dumb topic...

Dear Reader(s)
I have been considering changing the name of my blog because of the current political race. I don't want to be connected in any way to those people from that very cold state that builds strange bridges and is sandwiched between to "foreign" countries. What are your thoughts? I'm thinking that I just need to endure until the holidays and I won't have to hear about them any more.

The real brain

The other day I told a young person, who was complaining to me about only being able to be creative when it involved weapons, "Use your real brain, not your video game brain. Turn off your video game brain and use your real brain." "But that is my real brain!" "No, it's not. You are selling yourself short. You can do it!" And he and his friends did. And they came up with great and imaginative ways to show their real genius and solve the problems they were faced with.

Moments like these I love.

Another time, "Can I do this?" "No. If I let you do that then everyone will want to do that, and pandemonium will ensue." "Huh?" he, he. Could you hear me giggling?

Ref, Can we get a time out?

A strange set of events have been happening to me recently.

I tried to ride a tube the wrong way down a river that was too fast, and ended up clinging to green branches and sobbing a prayer of thanks for this life of mine that was spared. The cold of the river kept me from knowing about my most painful bruises until that night when I sat down. The bruises on my legs were so impressive I had to ask my mom if they were too disgusting to wear my long shorts. Luckily they covered my knees so she gave me the go ahead.


Shortly after that I found out I GOT MY DREAM JOB!!! I did a little (o.k. BIG) dance and had to restrain myself from WOO WHOOING out loud. Then reality hit. My dream job.... A Career.... Responsibility.... Big Time Responsibility.... WHAT WAS I THINKING!?!?

Every day since then my to do list has been a million miles long.

Today, Patsy and I weeded and harvested the fruits of our garden. And then Fish and I had a great conversation. He also gave me some great ideas for what to have for lunch. Unfortunately, the lettuce had gone bad, so I had to regretfully turn from the delectable ideas Fish gave me. Instead I had to go with my own mediocer ideas and had a sad, sad little lunch.

Lunch marked the gateway to a long afternoon at the computer. So what do I do to take a break? Read and write blogs. Yup. I'm consistent.

Hot, hot, hot

I apologize for my absence, my three readers. I have been on vacation on my couch. Someone turned the temperature up in my garden. The vegetables are loving it, but I prefer the beauty of a cool dark room.

Yesterday the dude and I were able to taste the fruits of our labors. I made a sauce to drizzle over our delicious chicken. And in it ... (drum roll please) ... fresh basil, white onions, and garlic chives from our delicious little gargantuan garden. My mouth is watering just thinking of all that deliciousness. Rats! I should have taken a picture of it to put on here so you could be extremely jealous. Oh, well. In my head you are jealous.

Absoluteness

I have been reminded lately of how absolute life is when you are a teenager. No I am not a teenager, but once I was. And I have been blessed with the ability to remember what life was like then. If I couldn't remember, life would be a lot, lot, lot more frustrating. My head would be full of, "What are you thinking?!?!"s and "Are you kidding me?!"s and "Grow up!!!"s. Instead it's full of, "I remember when I said stuff like that" interspersed with internal giggling. Internal because when you are a teenager nothing is worse than having someone laugh at your absolute opinions that you know are right. That's right spelled with an absolute in the middle. It's not the silent absolute of the passive aggressive. It's the absolute of the "I'm so sure I will write it in cement" or "carve it into a desk" or "I will stand by this until I die, because I know I am right. Yes, yes you are my young friend. You are right. You stick by that opinion. You show them how right you are.

Adults: don't roll your eyes, you used to be right too.

Mom, I'm sorry.

Ritual

Peppermint tea, scriptures, and a conversation with my garden = a perfect moment in the day.

This little ritual helps me get out of bed and keep my sanity.

Peace and projects

My peace is found in two places right now. The scriptures and my garden.

Our acreage turned into a lake a few nights ago when the monsoon hit. I'm a little worried about mosquitoes. There is a lot of standing water. All of the mud meant I couldn't work in my garden the way I had planned. We also ended up being busier than we thought we would be with gatherings. My goal is to improve the drainage in our yard and to get my poor plants from the nursery in the ground or in their planters. I won't have much time to accomplish all that in, and I'll probably be covered head to toe in mud, but my poor plants are crying out to me. They need to grow and to flourish. I need to scrounge up more planters. The dude and I created the master plan for our yard and garden a couple nights ago, and the verdict is in, the coleus that I put in the ground that gets sun half the day is going to have to go in a planter anyway, so I'll be able to move it to all shade. Lucky coleus. Now I just need to find something else to put there so I have something to look at from the kitchen window. The marigolds in the west 40 are also going to have to be put into planters. Right now they are getting flooded out, so I bet they'll enjoy the planter. I hope I can come up with a good way to improve the drainage in that part of the yard. The dinosaur dig created sort of a pool, but I think the contractors didn't do what they said they did with grading it anyway. Grumble, grumble. Wait! Why am I complaining? This just gives me more projects outside! There's nothing bad about that!

And, Yes, ancestors and Mother, I have been faithfully putting sun block on my face and my ears. For the past few days the rest of me has been covered up because of the cool air so no worries there.

Relaxation

Something strange happened to me this week. Mom, are you ready for this? I found myself weeding for relaxation. After an extremely stressful day away from my garden in front of a lot of check boxes on a screen, I came home and found myself on my knees in the dirt telling myself, "No, you can only pull weeds until 8:00." I was sure that something in the universe was awry until a few days later on Saturday morning I decided that I'd had enough weeding after an hour. It seems like there are an exorbitant amount of weeds in our vast acreage.

My garden is my sanctuary. Today before Church I just sat out there and listened to the birds and the Sunday morning neighborhood stillness. Peace poured into my heart.

The new love in my life

Cinnamon Head and I spent Saturday working in the earth. What a satisfying activity. We waxed very philosophical. Earth and plants. Sun and water. It was one of the most calming things I've done in years.

I had to leave my garden today. Work unfortunately has to come first. I miss my friend. We had a nice little chat as I watered this morning. We think we know where the rest of the marigolds will go. And lavender will be going into the east 40 still leaving room for a corner vignette of evergreens and coleus in the back 40. I still need to find some geraniums at one of the local establishments. My garden is not complete without geraniums. The dude and I are still discussing what to do with the last of the land. Cinnamon Head and I were talking about me getting an ox to till the rest of the land, because it is so hard packed. Then we went to a yak, and then the genius idea of a water buffalo came to us. She was over joyed. Why would anyone be over joyed at the prospect of a water buffalo becoming part of the family? I personally think that's a silly question. The answer should be obvious. Fresh Mozzarella.

You know you love your garden when you go out to bend down and water it at 10:00pm when you are sick to your stomach.

Bring on the Water Buffalo!

Beautiful Easter

Today was Easter. What an awe inspiring day. The day we celebrate the resurrection of the Savior. Today in Relief Society we talked about a talk by Elder Holland from October 2007 General Conference, The Only True God and Jesus Christ whom He hath sent. What a powerful talk! It quickly dispels questions about our belief in Christ. I have been trying to study the talks from last General Conference more, and I am constantly struck with wonder at the power of the words in them.

True doctrines taught. That is the power of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. We can only be truly converted when we accept those doctrines in our hearts and strive to live them. I feel so weak when I think about all the magnificent things that people glean from the scriptures. I need to study them more, to feast more upon the words of Christ.

What a truly beautiful gift we have been given and get to be reminded of each Easter. The gift of Eternal Life if we seek it. One truth that gives me more peace than any bookshelves in the world is knowing that life does not end with death. I will get to see my loved ones again because of the sacrifice of Jesus Christ. For that I am humbly grateful.

I hope you all had a meaningful Easter Sunday.

"He is Risen! He is risen! Tell it out with Joyful voice!"

Peace

I have been feeling close to panic since Saturday when we went to go look at our house again. For some reason all the colors that we had decided that we were going to paint the walls just felt wrong. Least you imagine a huge headache ahead of us caused by having to change the wall colors, I must explain that the colors we had chosen were still on paint chips in our hands not actually on the walls yet. Something started bugging me while we were there and I didn't realize until later on that day that it was the colors we had been dreaming about. They were all wrong. They were for someone else's house not ours.

That piled on top of dishes, piled on top of boxes (now strewn all over our house), piled on top of laundry, piled on top of my job, piled on top of the dude's job has created the near state of panic in which I now live. Oh, did I mention the hordes of people that seem to be everywhere I go? I am not a crowd person. In fact I'll do just about anything to get out of one. Tonight I told the dude that I wanted to run away to Alaska, and that I would love it if he would come with me. That's where I wanted us to run away to when I almost canceled our wedding, too.

Back to the current state of panic. Tonight we went to the big box hardware mecca and looked at their two walls full of paint swatches (for lack of a better term. It's late!) We didn't even discuss the colors as we were looking at them. We just grabbed ones that we liked and headed out the door. Oh, I forgot, the dude had a lengthy conversation with someone at work. While that was happening, I was wandering the painting supply isle convincing myself that we did NOT need to buy all the supplies this very night. Then when we got home he did more work and I scanned the new colors we had chosen (with my eyeballs, not the computer--give me a break, I live with a geek, I have to clarify. Although as I'm typing this I see all sorts of loop holes and visuals he could take and go running with). We had one of our favorite flicks on in the background. Not a John Wayne this time. (I couldn't help but notice the wall colors all the way through the movie. I think I have a problem. At least there were no dogs in it.)

The result is a completely different color scheme. Wow! I went from wanting a deep dark blue on one wall in our bedroom to wanting all the walls a terra cotta like color. The kitchen went from a mint green to a pale warm yellow. And the dining room may now end up being a leaf green. The only color that didn't really change was the leaf green that I want in the office/studio, which will hopefully change one day into a nursery. Our house went from a strangers to our own version of a warm spring day in 2 hours (of course, this is all still in my mind). And in the process of that happening, a few minutes of peace were granted to my soul.

Do I really have the guts to paint my room a terra cotta? I think I just might. (Now if I can just get the dude to see it. He was the one that picked that color out, though, so who knows.)

Now if we can just settle the question of what kind of dog to get. (We've moved on from the Rat Terrier to at least 5 other breeds, and the dude is now just hoping for a free dog. He doesn't care what kind.)

Perhaps Love

The dude and I decided this weekend that we are in a rut. We wake up, get ready, go to work, work late, are too tired to decide what to eat for dinner, go out to eat (No, I don't want to go there... There's too many people there.... It takes to long there, I'm hungry NOW), then here's were we go crazy: after work we either veg at home, go to meetings, or veg at our friends' home. I know, I know, that's quite the exciting life.

Well, we've decided it's too exciting for us. We don't want to be such wild partiers. We want to focus our energies on things like--cleaning, hobbies, going to bed early. Oh, and cooking our own meals. What are we thinking!!!

So in the spirit of our recent decision to downsize (don't ask me exactly what we are downsizing. I hope it's our stuff, because moving soon with this big a house full of stuff into a smaller house were we don't want stuff could either seriously impair my sanity or give me a heart attack. And frankly, I'd rather avoid both of those options.) I decided that getting stressed out each day at work is one of those things that I'm going to have to give a pink slip to. (Maybe I shouldn't make jokes about downsizing in these times of recession. Hmmm.)

I tried it out today. I'm tired of having my co-workers see me as an eye-bulging lunatic. I took a lot of deep breaths, asked for a lot of help from Heavenly Father, and tried to view everything calmly. I did pretty well, other than a small out burst when I found out one of our employees isn't doing exactly what we hired her for, oh, and when I searched the building for a kid that I thought was missing her ride and I was not going to stand around waiting for the next one to come. But compared to yesterday, when someone decided that spray paint and kids where a good combination, I was very calm today. And so when I picked up the dude it was with joy and love rather than portraying an exhausted snapping turtle.

Read another amazing book today. 'The Landry News' by Andrew Clements. I'm not much on picking favorite authors, but I have yet to read a book of Clements that I didn't like. This one has some great stuff about tired teachers, the first amendment, and kids rebounding.

Amazing!

I just read the most amazing book! Last week I was stressing out completely and the only way I could calm myself down was to browse the library shelves. In doing that I found this thin little book called, "Twenty and Ten." I noticed it was illustrated by William Pene du Bois, who is an author I enjoy. I know that sounds backwards, but it's not. I don't think much of the way he draws humans, but I enjoy his writing. This book's author, however, is Claire Huchet Bishop. It's about twenty French children who hide ten Jewish refugee children during the Nazi occupation of France. The book is less than a hundred pages, but is full of simple inspiration. After all it is about children, who are one of the purest sources of inspiration.

Sit, Boo Boo, Sit!

After much persuading, and countless numbers of 2x4-like subtle hints, the dude gave in this past week and said that indeed yes, we could get a dog. (Hear my like-minded angels rejoice.) Yep, I'm going to christen my brand new home with a brand new dog. My intelligence and foresight astound me. At this point we are hoping to get a rat terrier (oh, I hear your groans and amen to them). If you knew the dude and could read a description of the dog, you would realize they are a match made in heaven. Doggie heaven. So this summer I will be spending my vacation not with a stack of books and a perfectly groomed garden as I had hoped, but hoovering and "NO!"ing and rushing to let the dog out in time and loving most minutes of it. And then if that experiment on my sanity is a success we will shortly thereafter (2months to 10 years) get a second dog (my choice of breed this time) so they are happier while the dude and I go out and make the dough necessary for all their chew toys and vet bills. Why are we going with a pure breed (or partially mixed breed) you may ask? Yes, I do believe that it's better to adopt a dog and get it out of the over crowded shelter. Yes, I do love dogs who's breed is more mixed than my thoughts after a long day of work. The answer to my snobbery is simple. Allergies. Some of my nearest and dearest are allergic to doggies. So to fill my life-long longing for a dog and yet not make my bfs and others avoid my home like the plague, we are going for a "pure" bred dog.

Start thinking of suggestions for names. Although, let's be honest, I probably won't listen to them, just like the dude won't listen to mine. We are a thoroughly original family. Our goldfish's name is Fish, Fishie if the dude is talking to it, which he does amazingly often. I'm sure the dude would have named it a completely incredible name, but by the time the first 3 died (we started out with 5) he was too depressed to think of anything. He didn't want to get too attached. Bless his tender heart. It is one of his true gifts and talents.

I could write a book on our experiences with Fish. Like how we adopted he and his ill-fated compatriots to save them from flushing after they lived in an art piece for a day. (No, the artist did not want to flush them, she just didn't know what to do with them.) Or how we didn't have anyone take care of him while we were gone on Christmas Vacation. We just fed him a lot and hoped for the best for the week ahead. (here I guiltily hang my head in shame, and admit that just an ever so tiny bit of me hoped that Fish would go to the happy swimming ground while we were gone. A thought that I have almost completely repented of.) What did we find when we came back? A bigger Fish than when we left, the little piggy! The dude had a long chat with him after that. Letting him know we were sorry we had abandoned him.

I wonder how Fish and the dog will like each other. Hmm... (distant rumblings of foreboding cloud my mind.)

Elephants above my head

As a disclaimer to the rest of this post, know that I'm very grateful for the amazing home that I live in. We have the best landlords in the world, and I love their children. This post is just a reaction to having been sick for over a week now and not getting much sleep last night. That being said, I will continue.

I believe I have elephants living above me. Young elephants, but elephants none the less. As I've moved throughout my house this week trying to find a quiet spot to take a nap, I've realized that there are none. Because, you see these are talented elephants. They can be everywhere at once, and in fact I'm sure to their sweet mom it seems like they are.

Heaven bless those sweet elephants and help me find my ear plugs.

Sounds you can't control

Today I am at home yet again. I had to go to work yesterday, and that was almost sheer torture. Luckily, I have absolutely wonderful co-workers who were able to do the things that I couldn't. I consider the people I work with some of the tender mercies in my life. Without them and the rugrats, the job would be no fun.

Last night just to add some fun to an already difficult day, we went out to eat with some friends. Again a tender mercy, they were seated right before we got there so I didn't have to stand up and wait with the hordes. I don't think I would have made it. We always have such an extremely good time with our friends and last night was no exception. I did eat way too much, though, which brought lots of grimacing into my life.

The excitement of yesterday was too much for my poor weighted lungs, and so I am at home on our big blue couch again. At times I wonder at my state of mind when we picked out this color of couch. We have so much blue furniture! "I'm bluuuuuuue...."

So as I was sitting here on our big blue couch watching the end of "Ground Hog's Day", I started to hear this noise on the other side of the door that separates our apartment from the rest of the house. Our neighbor's playroom is on the other side of the door. No one was home, and yet I heard a toy. It kept trying to go and go. Trying to get its message out to the world. Finally it finished, but then a few minutes later it started again. So periodically I hear this toy on the other side of the door proclaiming how much fun we will have together. I'm not sure how many toys they have that make noises, but this has happened a couple of times since we've lived here. One time it was a toy cell phone that was out in the sandbox when we got home late one night. Luckily that one we couldn't hear once we got inside.

I'm sure you'll be surprised when I state that I'm excited to get into my own home with nice thick walls. And then when our friends give our imaginary kids noisy toys, I will be able to quietly remove the batteries or at least not replace them when they wear out and act like that was the way they were supposed to be. I learned from the best, my very, very wise mother.

I remember once my sister got a "magic" wand from someone for a birthday present that sang the same song over and over and over again. I don't think the wand made it a week before Mom set some parameters for the use of the wand. I believe once a week was mentioned.

Who invented noisy toys any way? I don't even mean drum sets. I'm talking about the toys that have some sort of recorded voice or song that plays over and over and over.....

As long as the doctor doesn't say...

I spent the last half of the workweek and the weekend trying to convince myself that I was going to be o.k. with going to a conference (in a city I don't like) for work for the first half of this week. My reasons for not wanting to go? Most people I know were excited for me. Not me. Three things I really don't like combined into one trip: 1. Conferences mean lots of people. As the few people who read my blog know, I hate crowds of people. Nothing, almost nothing, else makes me so uncomfortable as fast as crowds. And I don't mean chicken pox in your mouth uncomfortable. Worse. Put me a crowd and I will either find the fastest way out or start to plan an immediate move to the lonely reaches of Alaska or the Northern Territories. I think with fondness of Antarctica. 2. It's in a particular city that I don't like. 3. Strangers. You might think that should go along with the crowd thing, but it doesn't. I have a hard time facing even one person I don't know. Especially in a place that I'm not comfortable in.

But for work, you have to do many things you don't want to. (Which is a thing I'm still trying to convince myself of.) So my boss and I looked up some good restaurants we would eat at, I made myself a new journal, came up with a bunch of things to bring that could be my security blanket (a sort of 'will travel' comfort zone), found things to turn my new journal into an art project, and marked a lot of my favorite comfort bringing and courage giving scriptures. By Saturday night I had almost convinced myself to stop looking forward with dread to this Monday.

Sunday morning I woke up aching on every inch of my skin. I will admit that earlier in the week I had kind of hoped that my minor runny nose would turn into something bad enough for me not to go, but I wasn't truly serious. Who wants an illness that's bad enough to keep you from going to a conference that's already been paid for? Back to Sunday morning. The dude had been sick since Friday, so I of course blamed him for getting me sick. Both of us had fevers and a cough That's when I realized that my chest was on fire. No not literally, but it sure felt like someone had lit a forge in my lungs. When even getting dressed hurt enough to cause me to whimper in pain I finally gave in to the dude's suggestion that we may have to miss church.

I texted my boss telling her I was sick so we could prepare for the possibility of me not going to the conference. I felt worse and worse as the day passed. As I was talking to my mom and told her how I was feeling she said, "It sounds like you have pneumonia." I laughed in spite of the coughing. "Mom, I've just felt like this for a day. I don't have pneumonia! I just have some dumb cold. I'll feel better in the morning." Not giving up she continued, "You should go see a doctor."
Me scoffing again, "Mom, I'm not going to the doctor. They'll probably tell me that nothing is wrong but a cold."

When the forge in my lungs turned into a raging forest fire that night, the dude told me that if I felt like that the next morning I needed to go to the doctor. As I could barely breathe I just nodded in defeat.

The next morning the forest fire had gone back down to forge size, but I still called the doctor to make an appointment. A call to my boss, who by the way is the best boss in the world (and no, I don't think she reads this blog), helped me decide that I wasn't going to the conference, at least not that morning. She did ask me to get a doctor's note to show the airline to see if we could get our money back. I asked her if she wanted a teacher's note too, but she declined. He, he. I pray I'll have a sense of humor until I die.

So hobbling my fever and fire filled body to the doctor's office I sat there feeling dumb. As long as he didn't say "You're just fine. Everything is normal" I would be happy. Why don't I want to be fine? Because I hate going to the doctor, and I refuse to go unless everything is most definitely NOT fine! The dude came with me, mostly because me and a fever don't make a good driving team. I also tend to forget my symptoms as soon as I walk into the doctor's office.

We laid it out symptom by symptom for the doctor. He listened to my lungs, even made me do the "EEE" thing to further listen to the good old air sacks. Then he said it. (Now those of you who saw the warning signs when I was scoffing at my mom's suggestion will enjoy the justice of this next part.) "Pneumonia, the beginning stages." Evidently the air didn't just flow through the lower parts of my lungs like it's supposed to and the "EEE" sounded more like a Moose call. (Hey, what can I say? Even my pneumonia has a sense of humor.)

So now I have hot pink horse pills and I'm missing work and the conference. Oh, and watching a lot of movies twice because I don't want to get up and put a new one in the DVD player. The silver lining is that I was able to turn my journal into an art project anyway. I've been enjoying it.

Luckily the dude started feeling a lot better today. When we are both sick.... Well, that's just not any fun. For anyone.

The good news is we may have 12 nieces and nephews 9 months from now. That one you'll have to call and ask me about. I'll try and tell you all about it. Between coughs.

Ode to P.G. Wodehouse

Earlier this week I read an article entitled 'Scrapbook Wars' in the paper. I've heard rumblings of this very event for a while, but I am so uninformed I had to read about it in the paper. For those of you who want more specifics check out Jan. 28th's Life & Styles section of the Daily Herald. Now this is good clean fun. This article is almost as humorous to me as this year’s presidential race. When I start to feel like life has lost some of it’s savor and how am I ever going to make it through the day because my brain is total mush and I feel like I’m walking through quagmire, things like this remind me that fate is not against me, just sharing a good joke with me. Old John Wayne movies and P.G. Wodehouse stories do the same thing for me. And Saturday was Ground Hogs day! How amazing is that!!! (Yes, I did watch the movie. The dude and I actually went to three stores to find it. The last copy was ours! Hooray! How could I have ever hated that masterful example of fatalist comedy?)

Other things that made me Laugh (I mean really laugh) over the past few months:
Pat Robertson supporting Rudy Gulliani
Hearing that my boss was going to be joining a Wii bowling league.

That's not much, but it takes a lot for me to remember anything. That last one about bowling...Tears were streaming down my face.

On the flip side. Three times this week I found myself yelling, yes, yelling at the radio in the morning on my way to work. Why do people always seem stupider (more stupid?) in the morning. Once was at a "conservative" (what does that really mean anyway? It seems like the first requirement to being a conservative is to stick your head in the sand. At least that's what anyone listening to this guy would think) senator or some such dude that had written a book with some other guy about something (see it takes a lot for me to remember something). He kept representing statistics as undeniable facts. The thing is what he was listing as a statistic you could tell had been skewed just to fit his argument. So I started yelling. I actually had to change the channel on the radio. Switch over to my favorite morning shows and some one else was being stupid. Yelling again. I was shocked at myself. Normally I confine myself to yelling at drivers who almost kill me and mine, but here I was yelling at the radio. Next morning, it happened again. And this time, they were just reading the news. What threw me over this time? Microsoft making a bid for Yahoo. In my house M------oft is a bad word. We call them lots of names. Everything is their fault. But here begins my conflict ---- I can see the business sense behind it. My face is turning red and twisting with (rage?) even thinking about it. I may have to inflict a boycott of the dirty company's email/news site in our house, much to the torture of my poor dude.

The cause of all this yelling? I realized it on my way to work, after calling and yelling in the dude's ear about the evil company. I was getting a cold. Which I say is all Stevie Ballmer's fault.

To over come this bout of yelling, the dude and I went to our local library. Have I admitted it here yet? I am a bibliophile. I am obsessed with reading, making, acquiring, and writing in books. Any day becomes better if I can drown my sorrows getting lost in the stacks. While we were there we found what I remember as being one of my grandma's favorite movies (correct me if that's wrong, sweet mother mine). Support Your Local Sheriff. If this post weren't already disgustingly long I would go into a love poem about that movie. One of the true classics. And imagine my joy yesterday when I found out there was a Support Your Local Gunfighter, which the dude and I have been assured is also a classic. Our Family Home Evening activity this week? Ordering the DVD set with both of them in it.

We had a Ground Hog's Day party last night. But now I'm going to have to watch the movie again in the quiet of my own home, because our little group of friends and off shoots do not watch movies quietly. Who's complaining, though, because I'm one of the loudest, and now I own it, so watch it more I will.

Enough, already, Collector! Stop spewing words onto this poor post!

Woulda, shoulda

All week long I've thought of clever snippets of things to say on my blog. Actually since the last time I posted. Each night when I finally have time to sit down and breathe and can log onto blogspot, I am way to tired to write any thing mediocre let alone witty.

Tonight's entry is merely a space saver and an apology to my sister for not being more interesting. The truth is during the day when I'm at work, I have plenty of time and energy, but there's a filter on our internet. I'm grateful for it most days, it keeps the rug-rats safer than not. But working 'til late, starting a business, and being involved in church stuff, and let's be honest, having a semi-social life gets me no where near an interesting blog.

I have been wondering what's wrong with the academic world lately. How can there be so many people out there who write even semi intelligent stuff and some of the most important topics are totally ignored. Scandinavian art history for one. Moles for another. No not those things on your skin that may or may not turn cancerous. The mammal that looks like a ball of black velvet and remains surprisingly clean for a tunnel digger and dweller. Academia, I shake my fist at you.

And now I go to do dishes.

Wonderful, beautiful, wish I were here

Christmas was great this year. We had a blast with the dude's family, I got to talk to my family a lot. I especially enjoyed hearing about all the wonderful lefse my sister got to partake of. (grumble). We had snow on Christmas day, which was glorious to watch and not have to drive through. We then had to postpone our return trip a day because we got snowed in. There's nothing wrong with that. I'm not one to tempt the snow gods by insisting on traveling on in spite of the somewhat exaggerated snow reports. I was content to stay and play. Friday morning I woke up with that deep down "You're gonna get sick soon, Fool" feeling. Ignoring it I went on with my day. Saturday morning there was no ignoring. BAM! It hit me just like that. Ah, the joys of deep dark winter viruses. Shivering, shaking and deep down bone crushing exhaustion. Luckily, I didn't have to do the driving. We took a new route home, to avoid tempting the snow gods. New tires or not, we don't particularly enjoy driving through white knuckle weather.

Blessings in disguise! It was one of the most beautiful roads I've ever been on. For those of you who haven't done it you must drive on I-70 between Green River and Salina. I am normally a fan of getting off the interstates, but this section happens to be absolutely marvelous. The glories of nature make me oh so grateful to be alive!

Sunday dawned and I felt no better. It broke my heart that I couldn't go to church and teach our sweet little kids the last Sunday we'll have them. But this little germaphobe is not a fan of sharing such evil dark viruses. A Charles Dickens, and many many John Wayne movies later, it's Thursday, and although, I have no more shakes and chills, the bone crushing exhaustion is still weighing me down.

A trip to the doctor revealed that it is not a second annual boute with Mono. Halleluia! No, it's just some unknown dark and dirty virus, so there is an end in sight. Thank you, thank you!
Now Son of Paleface (and no that's not another name for the dude, although it could be) and I are chilling in the living room, but I think I'm going to have to abandon him and go take a nap.
I certainly do mention naps a lot in my blog. It's a sign!

I've been looking at some pictures of a prairie cattle ranch lately, and oh what a beautiful sight. Suburban living is not for me. I long for the wide open spaces and vistas with no other people in sight, or at least a few miles away. So my new years resolution this year is to get out of the mass of people that I exist in more often. Drive off, leave "humanity" behind and get closer to the wilderness.