Merry Christmas & A Happy New Year!!

...so it's been nice this year to stay home and not travel. This is the second year of seven that we've done that. The only problem is that we're getting cabin fever being around each other so much!! We need a break!

Christmas morning was so nice. We opened gifts and played all morning, afternoon and evening. Very calm and relaxed and fun. When C got a gift that wasn't a toy (ie. pajamas, socks, pants...) he would just dump it on the floor and look for a toy. (I think next year he only gets underoos!!) A declared that everything was just she wanted. I didn't even come close to finishing all the projects I wanted, but I managed to get bathrobes done, and A's Christmas dress and C's Christmas tie. Her dress turned out so cute, I made a tie for C from the same fabric. They were adorable! Maybe if I start now, I can get the rest done for next year....

Christmas Eve we went sledding in the mountains with some families from church who have been going for 12 years. I don't think I've ever had more fun in the snow. The hill was gentle enough that A and C could go down by themselves, and the other boys (all bigger) would watch out for them and help carry sleds (and occasionally A) back up the hill. Running into trees was the most problematic. A insisted on trying out every sled until she found the fastest one. Then she had a hard time going down on anything else. C suprised me by being willing to go down solo, and even face first once! Perhaps I have a Skeleton Racer in the making. (A is the thrill seeker, wanting to go higher and faster; C doesn't like to go so high, or so fast). We made a frantic run that morning to get snow pants and boots for them, and it paid off. They were warm and toasty and played in the snow for hours. I'll have to figure out how to upload pics on the new computer to share. My favorite was when C would lay down in the sled and let S haul him back up. He just fit, and would stare at the tall pines and white sky as he was pulled along. So much fun. They were exhausted for bed that night. Perfect.

Well, that's the tast of what we've been up to. Just taking it easy.

I'm still working on the picture for Christmas Cards...so if you haven't sent your address to me, you still have a chance.

Mission Accomplished

Just a quick update--the goods got delivered. Most of them anyway. If I found your house last night, you got something. =) Looks like I won't be gaining 10 lbs from eating fudge this year. Perhaps just 2 or 3--it's pretty good for breakfast. Nothing like a good chocolate fix to start the day.

May your morning be as sweet!

Holiday Shopping Adventures

Don't you love holiday shopping?

Trying to get that just right gift that will delight it's intended recipient. This feat is difficult enough to accomplish solo. Throw in a child or two (or three) and it becomes near impossible. (No wonder gift cards are so popular.) Now, those with a bit of practice under their belts, (and smaller children) can somehow manage to buy their gifts right under their noses, and they're none the wiser. Just a little distraction can work wonders. Not to mention a competent clerk at the checkout stand--one who understands the wink and nod and strategic placement of intended gifts behind large packages of toilet paper (how else do you keep things hidden in the cart and increase the year's supply at the same time?) and pulls out the large BLACK sack to bag your purchases. They understand the need for conspiracy and secrecy.

Enter the incompetent clerk. The one who removes intentionally placed items from behind large camoflauge right in the sight path of the small person(s) you're trying desperately to distract with leftover Halloween candy.

"What's that?" --detection by child.

Now you have to play dumb.

"What's what?" you query as you bodily place yourself in the line of fire and whisper fiercly over your shoulder that you'd rather s/he not see those particular items.

"Should I put them in this?" --holding out the BLACK bag, the one that is usually understood to be standard issue in these cases.

You can only nod in frustration, since your teeth are ground together in an attempt keep holiday spirit and joy.

The child taunts, "I saw it! I saw it!"

"There, now, you can't peek anymore." Do they have to actually draw attention to the fact that the unmentionable "nothings" have disappeared into the BLACK sack? Black holes/sacks are supposed to suck in mass and make it disappear. You forget it's there, it doesn't exist anymore. Don't remind the child--now you have to get a gumball on the way out for increased sugar buzz and distraction from the "nothings".

Good Grief.

I'll be shopping online next year for Christmas gifts...or getting gift cards.

Baking Bonanza

Holiday stress is a legitimate concern. We tend to pack a gallon of activity into a quart jar. For those of us who haven't realized it yet, it doesn't fit--never has and never will. Inevitibly something spills out, lost in the hustle and bustle of creating memories, keeping traditions and loving our neighbors. Then we feel guilt about what is lost. Yeah...because things didn't turn out the way we wanted--perfect. (Once again, not going to happen anytime soon....;)

I tend to, usually in creative situations, live by the motto, "Anything worth doing is worth overdoing." Yes, friends, this is a step up from, "Anything worth doing is worth doing well." This gets me into trouble. (Sometimes.) My innocent enough plans snowball and pretty soon I'm barreling around, wondering "who's driving this flying circus"?

Usually I curtail my plans when they are just that-plans. Before they turn into action and actual deeds. Those two are harder to rein in.

Case in Point: Christmas Goodies.

Every year, I have great plans of what delicious treats I will shower upon my friends and neighbors. Unfortunately, these plans rarely see fruition, and I've moved about enough that none of you are much the wiser.

Not this year.

The problem now, though, is I've spent my energy creating the goodies and I'm running out of steam to deliver them. What, you ask, are the culinary delicacies I have concocted? Well, I started with Holly Cornflake Wreaths (a childhood favorite), then spicy Gingerbread Snowflakes (disaster getting kids to help cut out, so I decorated them all--I'll reverse that next year), Grandma Rose's Five Minute Fudge (a taste of heaven--pure chocolate bliss), Biscotti drizzeled in white and dark chocolate, and carmel dipped pretzel rods, smothered in assorted toppings (again, not so great with little helpers). I haven't gotten around to the marshmallow log, peanut brittle, or double chocolate mint biscotti. (I think I made double batches of everything. For those of you who know me...this isn't a suprise.)

I've doubled the time I ment to spend, and I've got other things to get done. If they don't go out tonight, y'all are invited over for a dessert party--just bring a plate to take a load home with you!!

Oh, wonder what got dropped in the flour and sugar frenzy in the kitchen? The Christmas cards and family letter. Look for them around Valentines Day. Serious.

Next year will be simpler, I promise. (But don't hold your breath!!)

What the...?

Getting children to eat, especially while not in the comfort of our own snug bungalow, is always a challenge. This dilemma is increased at pot-luck functions, where adults love the food, and children would rather....well, you get the idea.

So. We're at the ward Christmas Luau party. Delicious sweet'n sour meatballs and marinated pork are the main entree. Mmmmm....

A looks at her plate, at the thin strip of delectable meat and says:

"It looks like dead hippo."

(I wonder what the heck they serve for school lunches in Oregon...)

ps. She did try it, and actually liked it. She needed a second piece. May your "hippo" adventures turn out as well.

I'm Not Dead Yet!

So. We were driving down the road when A and C had this conversation:

(background: we had just passed a cemetary)

A: That's where the dead people are. You get really ill and then die.

C: I'm not going to be ill.

A: Yes you are. You're too young now. I'm too young. Mommy and Daddy are almost there. They're halfway there.

C: (after pausing to reflect and think) You're just making this up.

A: No, I'm not. I know alot about stuff.

I don't know how S managed to miss this conversation. I nearly bust up laughing in the front seat. I take comfort in the fact that I'm not dead yet! =)

Common Denominator

So. Most of the new television shows are over until January. Due to my present pathetic state, I have acquired a new set of "shows" to follow. (Please understand, I never watched every episode of a show until Lost, and I don't have cable, so I only follow what's publicly available.) Usually I have limited myself to Numbers and Lost. Because Lost isn't starting until Jan, I filled in with others.

The shows I enjoy now are: Chuck, Pushing Daisies, Life, Numbers.

The Facts are These: Upon reflection of the shows I like, I found a common thread...some form of the name Charles. We have Charles "Chuck" Bartowski (aka Charles Carmichael), Charlotte "Chuck" Charles, Detective Charlie Crews, and Professor Charles "Charlie" Epps. (If we stretch, Lost even has a Charley, but I think he got knocked off last season...)

So. Just another crazy pattern, of the not so obvious type that I love to find. (Perhaps that's a topic for another blog...how I love to see things relate to each other...)

What mindless entertainment to you crave from the B-Tube?

Trim a Tree

My children are super excited for the holidays. I've been slow to drag out the boxes of Christmas decor, because we don't really have places to put all the stuff. (last year we had a super great mantle and table and ledges....) We finally brought out the little fir grove last week. This is the arrangement we used as a tree while in school, since we usually traveled to our parents houses during the holidays, and couldn't afford a live tree. We now live in the land where people get a tree permit and head to yon' hills to chop down their own token of Christmas spirit. (After reading Lindsay's commentary, I'm glad we went to the kmart lot!)

Anyway. We got the stuff out Saturday night, and the kids couldn't pull objects out of the tubs fast enough. (translation: mess and mom trying to remain calm). We corralled most of the stuff before bed and snuggled them down with promises of decorating the next day.

We awoke to excited giggles and trees decorated by A. She was so proud to have put all the ornaments she could find (plus the flower arrangement she pulled apart) on the trees. I asked C what he helped with. He informed me, "The mess." Referring, I assumed, to the havoc wrecked at the base of the trees, and throughout the room. He did a very good job.

Children do make the holidays exciting.

"Teeth" are the Times...

...when I realize my kids will not be small forever.

A is estatic.

She noticed a loose tooth a few days ago. Seriously beginning to loosen up. (She couldn't eat whatever was for dinner until it was minced into bite-size pieces, to be consumed daintily via fork.) I'm convinced that she's too young to be saying good-bye to her baby teeth. They don't fall out until age six, right? Five is much too early. Perhaps superglue will delay the process?

She already knows all about the Tooth Fairy. She explained the whole process to little bro, with stardust shining in her eyes. She is so excited about this first tooth, I'd better let her eat it up (not the tooth, just the experience) because the next 19 may not be so fun....

P.S. She confessed that she hid a bean under her pillow one night to see if the Tooth Fairy would take it and leave her a small treat. Didn't work. Dad told her that the Tooth Fairy is too smart to be tricked...he knows because he tried something similar when he, too, was an aspiring enamel venture capitalist.

Yahtzee Champ

So. S and I have passed many a moment (frequently when driving, er, traveling) transfixed by our electronic hand held yahtzee game. S is the hands down, consistent champion. He once had a game that scored 623. No kidding. If I hadn't witnessed the game, I wouldn't have believed it. The digital dots were spot on for him. I even made him a t-shirt to commemorate the occasion. You have to understand, I rarely get "yahtzee" (all five dice displaying the same number of dots, in three or less rolls, for those of y'all not up to speed). A good game scores around 250, sometimes I don't even break 200.

Everything changed last week.

I had the game of all games, and even woke Scott from his afternoon nap (recovering sickie) so he could groggily witness my triumph. (I was trying to engage in quiet activity whilst everyone slept.) I could go into detail, but it would only make sense if you already play the game. I scored yahtzee not once, but four times, my friends. Yes, FOUR times!! with a bonus of 100 per extra time....that adds up!

Final score: 648

I think I have to retire now...

...or at least make a new t-shirt.

Literal Confession

Okay. Here goes another one...confession, that is.

I like reading Sports Illustrated.

S subscribed because he loves football and needs something besides Better Homes and Gardens to read. The unfortunate result is that I enjoy picking up the new issue (they come every week) and perusing for articles of interest. I especially enjoy the Life of Reilly at the very back. This doesn't mean that I remember everything I read, but I'm learning. In fact, I have to ask S alot of questions because this is an area I don't really understand. It's sort of fun to be able to learn something about what likes. He's also a great teacher and patient with my ignorance. Thanks, sweetie. =)

(Oh yeah, I also enjoy reading his Audiology journals...sick, eh?)

What do you enjoy that nobody would suspect?

Musically Distracted

Yeah. I haven't made very good posting lately. Besides picking up in activity intensity before the holidays, and being recovering sickies (the entire household), I've fallen in love with my "jukebox". I come to the blogspot with every intention of creating a new post, only to become distracted by a great song. I think, okay, I'll listen to this one, then get on with the post. That works until the next song comes on...which, again, I think is super great. (I should like them all, I picked them out, for pete's sake!)

Anyway. That's part of my excuse.

I'm not sure if the tunes annoy the rest of y'all (who's stopped by only to be greeted with Queen's "Fat Bottomed Girls"?) or if you get a kick out of them. But whatever you think, I like them all...and I'll try to resist the power of the tunes and share a bit more life.

Thanks for listening....

p.s. what's your favorite?

The Talk that Almost Wasn't

Yes, we were asked to speak before we were given callings in our new ward. (But we've got those now too....) I was a basket-case last night trying to organize my chaotic thoughts into something resembling coherancy and purpose. This morning I fine tuned and last-minute adjusted. We arrived at church (in two cars because the guys were coming home after the first meeting due to illness. Last time we spoke together I was totally ill and S gave my talk for me--in addition to his. He spoke the entire meeting! That's definetly love. I offered to return the favor, but he declined. Anyway.)--I'm halfway inside when I realize I didn't grab my talk. I send S in with the kids and I hurry home to get the talk.

Thankfully we only live about 8 min. away. I get home, grab the papers from the counter where I had been reviewing my lesson for primary, and go back to the church. I grab the papers, only to realize that it's not my talk. It's a talk by Pres. Faust about "The Refiners Fire."

Is there a message here for me?

Once again I return home to get my talk. This time I make sure it's mine before I return to the church. I arrive just as the sacrament hymn is being finished.

(I really wanted to stay home and not go back, but could you imagine the trouble I'd have been in? If I lived any farther away I'd have been giving a talk from memory...or Elder Faust's.)

Talk about a crazy morning!

Daddy's Girl

So. Today was the first Parent-Teacher conference for myself and A. (I'll admit, I was a little nervous.) Everything went very well. She's a good student, and enjoys learning. The interesting part came when her teacher looked at her (we were both sitting next to each other, and across the table from Ms. W.) and then said,

"She sure looks like her daddy."

This threw me for a loop. (and S has been to the school to see her teacher, and picks A up sometimes, so she knows what he looks like.) Usually people comment that we have "twins"--a twin of me, and a twin of S. I usually smile....and don't go into the details of S being the odd colored kid in his family and me being the odd one in mine. (His siblings are all blonde, he's brown; mine are mostly brown and I'm fair-er...my denial is subject for another post.) Anyway. There's a first every day, even when you think you've heard it all.

Friday Movie Quote - Week II

Okay, here's the next movie:

"I just don't remember it being this orange..."

$45 for a Christmas tree and they don’t deliver?! You order $10 worth of chow-mein from Mr. Wong and they bring it to your door.

I should have gotten the blue spruce, they’re lighter!

What was he like? (referring to her dad)
Oh, a lot like me…dark hair, flat chest..”

(ripping)
Was that my pants or my muscles?

If you fit into my pants, I think I'll kill myself.

...you’re born into a family. You do not join them like you do the Marines.
You have to tell me what to do.
Pull the plug.
You’re sick.
I’m sick? You’re cheating on a vegetable!

I don’t really know Jack’s type.
I like blondes, chubby ones.

Mmm, these potatoes are so creamy.

I seen the way you look at him.
What? What do you mean? How do I look at him?
Like you just seen your first trans-am.

And then you leaned.
‘Kay. How did I lean when I leaned?
How were you leaning? It was a lot different than hugging. Hugging is very different.
Hugging, that involves arms and hands, leaning is whole bodies moving in, like this. Leaning involves wanting, and accepting. Leaning.

Hey luc! Is this guy bothering you?
No, no.
Are you sure? ‘cause itlooks like he’s leaning.

I’ve had a really lousy Christmas, you just managed to kill my New Year, if you come back at Easter, I’ll let you burn down my apartment.

Even this Chocolate Peanut Butter tastes better.
Good. It’s Fudge Mint.

And the squirrels…
Don’t even say it!
…first, I knocked them out of their nest with a rock. Then I saved them.

I’d say she gets under your skin, and drives you so nuts you don’t know whether to hug her or really arm wrestle her. She would go all the way to Europe just to get a stamp in her passport. I don’t know if that amounts to insanity or just being really, really likable.

(Argh!) I don’t want any flowers from you! I am not wearing black underwear! And I definitely do not want to move in with you Jo--- Jack.
Well, I don’t have any flowers, I wouldn’t mind seeing the black underwear, but under the circumstances I don’t think we should move in together.
(stifling giggle) I thought you were Joe Jr.
I get that a lot.

I suck, or the outfit sucks?
It’s a toss-up.

If you've figured it out...haul it out and watch it now! =) If you've got a favorite line, add it! Hope you have fun!

(yeah, the characters are in different colors...can you figure them out?)

Friday Movie Quote Answer -Week I

Okay, you've been on the edge of your seat all week, I know. Time to put you out of your misery. The quotes come from the movie....
"What's Up, Doc?" with Barbra Streisand and Ryan O'Neal. Hilarity. The poor man's life is made miserable by the woman following him, determined to make him like her. Fabulous mix-ups and a wonderful "chase" scene at the end with all sorts of mayhem. Check it out!

P.S.

I think this is how chain letters sound, if you step back and listen.

http://wilk4.com/humor/humorm293.htm

I won't forward it on to y'all...but you can click to read it if you want.

Hope it brings a smile.

ps. another site for checking out haoxes.
http://hoaxbusters.ciac.org/HoaxBustersHome.html

Red Alert!

Okay. Here comes the soapbox.

I know how fun and easy it is to use email to forward warnings of dangerous and devious doings to all the people in our inbox--for their safety and protection, of course. I delighted in these deeds just as much as everyone. Until... that fateful email sent by a friend patiently explaining that the virus warning just received was a hoax, and to check it out before sending it on. He recommended this website: www.breakthechain.org and I've been an addict ever since. You can search out all sorts of articles. (Another site is www.snopes.com but, I favor the break-the-chain.) Some of you may have received forwarded warnings right back with a link for an article to read. I hope you haven't minded.

I suppose this is my stand against the "herd" mentality of just sending stuff along without investigating first, to find out if it could be true. Otherwise, there's alot of "half-truths" masquerading as the real thing, and alot of people worrying for nothing. Common sense actually goes a long way to de-bunking these warnings, if we take the time to stop and think, instead of hitting forward, and send.

Anyway. I'm on the box today because I received two emails, nearly identical, about a current scam letter that is circulating. I'll get off now. Thanks! =)

Tagged-Paying Jobs

Wait? Paid Jobs? (I'm not sure I remember what those are anymore....)

Okay. I just wrote down my list. It's boring! I don't have a varied career in the workplace.

Here goes:

1. Paper route. Yes, I begin at the beginning. Don't laugh, it was twice a week and paid the bills. (hairspray...shampoo...candy...)
2. Selling corn and pumpkins (and sheep). Each fall we would sell corn in front of the house, just off the road, and the sheep were raised to sell at the stock show. This is how we earned money for school. (yeah, I had to pay for my own school fees while in junior high and high school.)
3. grocery checker and bagger. This was before I started college, at the local grocery store. I think I applied 15 times before they hired me.
4. personal typist - for the infamous Mrs. Virginia Richardson. I typed for her for four years, on a Word 3.1 program (that's the black screen and orange cursor version, with Ctrl and Shift functions to execute commands) She didn't want to "update" to windows and risk losing all of her prior work. (I got a really great oatmeal raisin cookie recipe from her and her clothing construction book that she wrote when she was a professor at USU.)
5. Data entry-four years at college in the controllers office. Scanning and entering documents.
6. Technical writing assistant-Summer job (3yrs) at the chemical incinerator in Tooele County. I helped edit an make corrections in technical procedure documents. I also got to carry a lovely green gas mask to don for drills. (heaven forbid an actual event!) I learned many acronyms and the ins and outs of word and word perfect. (Mostly sneaky editing to make things look pretty....)
7. soccer referee- one spring at USU I refereed youth rec. league games. Hilarious because I never played soccer. Good thing the kids were only about 9.
8. Anatomy TA- yeah, technically this paid in grades. I was a crappy TA but I loved the lab and even took a Human Dissection class for fun. (This is why I only get boneless, skinless chicken/meat. If I can identify it, I can't eat it! I would become vegetarian, but I love bacon! Mmmmmm.....)
9. Floral shop-short stint, wasn't cut out for it (almost forgot about it!), but I loved working with fresh flowers! I tend to be slower than fast when putting orders together.
10. Staff Assistant in the Contracts & Grants office at USU. I answered phones, typed stuff, tried to maintain order and find missing files. I also tried to keep my cool when called "Jenny" repeatedly by my boss. This was my first "real job" after graduating...
11. ...which I quit to go to massage school so I could work as a massage therapist. yeah, that only lasted until we moved across the country (for the first time) and had our first child. I still love it and miss massage.
12. I've also worked as a personal seamstress...custom making things for people who don't care to sew.

There. That should keep y'all busy for awhile, digesting this load of information. =)

For those of you that haven't divulged this info....get typing!! I'm sure you're more interesting that I am!

Tagged-Six Items of Interest

Where's my immunity charm to being tagged? ...I'm sorry, you can't tag me, I have a shrunken head and a banana peel, so the tag slips by and hits someone else! I guess that doesn't work, does it?

I guess I'm dragging my feet because I can't come up with six interesting things about myself. Pathetic, eh? Well, we'll just see how it goes...

1. I've never been out of the lower 48 United States. Yeah, this is slightly embarrassing. I've spent my entire life in one country. Never mind that I've been from end to end and top to bottom and many places in between. I've been to the Pacific Ocean, and the Atlantic. In one week I traveled from Mesa, Arizona to Tacoma, Washington. Only miles from the north and south borders, but I never crossed them. Now, this wouldn't be so bad, except I own a passport. (Please, subdue your laughter) A moment of passion and "what if.." inspired by While You Were Sleeping.... So call me Lucy! I still need a stamp. (and a new picture, it's worse than the driver's license!!)
2. I once ran a mile in.....(drum roll please)...... under six minutes. I know, shocker. 'Bout keeled me over when I found out too. Of course, I'd just finished running it and was exhausted. Anyway. This was back in my "Glory Days" of high school track, my junior year. I believe that was my best year ever, and I trained for the 400m relay. (I ran 300m hurdles and mile-okay 1600m technically- to keep things interesting.) Anyway. I made it to the State track meet and wanted to run the mile in under six minutes. I did. 5:56 and some odd hundredths. I finished fifth. I've never run that fast since! I'm not as good as I once was...
3. I was 26 when I got my ears pierced. Seriously. Mom didn't go for that sort of thing when we were at home. She said we could decide when we were grown. I'm still not completely sure what the big deal was.... but none of us (4) girls ever even tried to pierce our ears when we lived under her roof. I was on a date with my husband and we just decided to stop at a little shop in the mall and put me under the gun. (although, I still had to run out to the car to get my ID to prove that I was over 18!!!-or did I have S fill in as my "guardian" to give consent?) I'm still waiting for my 2 carat diamond (zirconium?) stud earrings--a motivational factor in my decision. Ah, yes, vanity...
4. I am addicted to fabric. There's just no pretty way to say it. I'm a fabricoholic. I love buying fabric! I can resist clothes (for the most part) but not four yards of corduroy marked 50% off! I have an incredible stockpile (S can attest to that-after moving it across the country-again!) and I love to imagine what I'll make with each piece. I also collect patterns--for 99cents I can dream an entire wardrobe each season. This wouldn't be so bad, but I rarely make clothes for myself. (I tend to forget to "fit" the pattern correctly) I have made dresses for A which are darling, and I get in the occasional baby blanket (flannel rag are my fav. at the moment) and purse. I think I've got 20 baby blankets in queue and at least that many purses. I just don't have enough time for all the projects that I want to do.
5. Okay...(deep breath)...IreallylikethesongFatBottomGirlsbyQueen. Yeah, it's not exactly the most uplifting song, but it always makes me smile and want to sing along. Perhaps because *ahem* I am curvaceous in the behind myself. There, my secret is out.
6. I don't really know what color my eyes are. Yeah, not so funny. I usually say they're green. But they change between blue, grey and green, mostly in reflection to what I'm wearing or what mood I'm in. They're not really one color...chameleon eyes. Perhaps this is why I find myself drawn to deep, dark, chocolate brown eyes. (yes, S has this type of eyes...and I love brown eyes with blond hair!)
7. just because #6 was sorta lame... you get a bonus! I analyze people's walking. I don't really mean to do it, but after being trained as a massage therapist, I notice how people walk and am critical about what they're doing wrong. This also goes for how people stand. We're sloppily postured as a society. It drive me nuts, esp. since I've forgotten how to "fix" the problems. We all need a good "rolfing" or structural integration session--or like 10 of them! Go find a therapist today!!

Okay. My shrunken head and banana peel talisman are now in effect. I know that Kami, Kristi, and probably Lindsay still need to do this. I think just about everyone else that I know who blogs has already done this. Good Luck!

Friday Movie Quote -Week I

This isn't a new one, folks. I'll give y'all more than one line to figure it out.

"You're gonna need an awful big glass of water to get that down."

"Unice? There's a person named Unice?"

"Who is that dangerously unbalanced woman?" *one of my favorites!*

I love you.
I know.
You do?
(nodding) You can't fight a tidalwave.
(kissing)

"Banister, as in Sliding Down the--"

Okay, if you can't get that, you probably haven't seen it. I would recommend you see it. It's split your britches good.

Movie Quote of the Week Explanation

So. I started a blog about my favorite movies, and realized I was waxing quite eloquent in regard to my treasured cinematic viewings. I didn't want to bore y'all, especially since I couldn't find cute pictures of all of them.

Instead, I came up with the brilliant idea of just writing some of my favorite quotes from the movie, and see if you can guess what it is. I'll answer the previous week in the new blog. I'm curious to know if anyone else likes the movies (or has even seen them and knows what the heck I'm talking about)?

Okay. You've been warned. I'll update on Fridays. Good Luck!

The Dirty Deed is Done

I've had enough.

I am NOT Melanie.

I don't care if her relative just gave you this number, I am still not Melanie. Furthermore, I don't know who she is, or where she is.

I would not like to pick up the prescription filled at the pharmacy.

(for the second time) I would not like to attend the meeting Saturday.

I would not like to reach a settlement out of court or forward stuff on to my attorney.

I would like to stop receiving her calls.

One of the trials for me of moving to a new place is receiving a new phone number. (I fended of calls for Carol Long for nearly a year in Abq.) Super annoying are the calls I now receiver on my cell phone for "Melanie"--who changed her dang number and "forgot" to let certain people know. I am not her answering service. I am tired of fending calls. (S thinks it's funny that this irritates me so much.) I now have a new voice mail message on my phone.

I hope Melanie thinks it's funny that I'm telling everyone she's been abducted by aliens, is pregnant with twins, and being held in an undisclosed facility 50 stories below ground.

Halloween

So. This has to be my least favorite holiday of the year. I never seem to be able to get everything together. (Perhaps this stems from my inherant dislike? Hmm...) There is always some sort of trauma involved, usually my emotions.

We ended up with two gigantic pumpkins. I required Scott's manly muscles to lift the 48 and 23 pound beauties the children picked out. (One day they grow out of the "bigger is better" stage, right?!) (I really missed the little pumpkins we planted in Abq. and grew, never to harvest them, we had white and orange.) We carved them for FHE. Charles displayed absolutely no interest...in fact, he retreated to the living room to read "Calvin and Hobbs" (perhaps where he gets ideas?), after insisting he have a dragon carved on his pumpkin. Alice wanted a ghost (where did all the triangle faces of yesteryear go?). She didn't want to "gut" the mammoth gourd. Daintly she picked out pieces of pumpkin innards, until mom rescued her. (I will admit, I love carving pumpkins and feeling the squishy pulp in my fingers, I also enjoy the challenge of taming the rough orange ridges into artful displays of goulish delight...but not scary stuff.) Anyway.

The kids chose their costumes this year. (yet another post) and we were supposed to be ready to go to the Trunk-or-Treat at 6:30. We arrived at 6:45. I imagine it started around six, and we were rather fashionably late, with no space for our "trunk". We hearded the kids around, and had their picture taken inside, and played a few games. Then we went to one of Scott's co-workers homes, and up and down the street. Rather late when we got home, at 8:00, but bedtime was quick.

Oh, and did I mention that I had stockpiled candy to give out at the huge trunk or treat? yeah, I'm still sitting on the stockpile. We didn't give out anything, and we got more!! I don't need Christmas to come to expand my waistline and bottom line.... my downfall is that I got chocolate, all my favorite flavors. I've been eating snickers for breakfast this entire week. I save the butterfingers for lunch, and snack on the nerds and swedish fish.

Mr. Darcy

Yes, gentle friends. I have, of late, been neglectful in my correspondance. This is a grevious thing to be borne, and I must lay the responsibility at the feet of Mr. Darcy. Well, perhaps in fairness and honesty I must claim a portion of the blame. (Although, Mr. Darcy is such a delicious character what woman can honestly resist his charismatic pull? Even Elizabeth didn't last long!!)

If your thoughts and feelings echo these sentiments, I would direct your attentions to the publications by Pamela Aidan, entitled, "Fitzwilliam Darcy, Gentleman: A Novel in Three Parts" Book 1: An Assembly Such As This, Book 2: Duty and Desire, and Book 3: These Three Remain.

Be forwarned! You too may neglect other duties!

Tied Up!

We used to practice and practice. We probably still do it the same way our mothers taught. Usually some version about bunny ears crossing or going around a tree or something. Now it's not so much of a big deal because of all the shoes with velcro or slip-on features. So what if you don't know how to tie your shoes before kindergarten. Big deal, you'll get it eventually.

S showed A how it was done. I showed her too. We didn't think much of it, as her new shoes are velcro.

Then she comes out with her old shoes on. They don't have velcro. We asked who tied your shoes?

She replied, "I did. Look, double knots."

Sure enough, double knots and everything. Suprised us.

I'm amazed at what my little girl is capable of, and wonder if anything will be beyond her reach?

(Oh, wait, that would be keeping her clothes and toys off the floor....)

Invasion

I don't often use the front bathroom. I enjoy having a "master suite" (used in the most loose of terms here) and frequent that commode accordingly. Occasionally, however, I forgo the labyrinth path to privacy and use the first bathroom. I'm never sure what I will find, as A and Ch claim this as their domain. Usually surprises are easily dealt with by a quick flick of the silver handle. =)

Today was different. (For accuracy's sake it was actually Tuesday.) As I sat upon the porcelain throne I noticed a tiny black trail extending from the wall to the tub rug, about 3 inches away. Then it disappeared. Hmm... I flipped the rug with my foot. Ew! The tiny black line followed the contour of rug, and it was alive with movement. I followed the back trail, along the wall (after I had finished with necessities, thank-you). To my horror, the line extended around the toilet bowl brush caddy, behind the toilet and around to the other side. Descending to my hands and knees was the only way I could discover the lump of something brown that the ants were swarming over tucked away under the overhang of the cabinet. Ew! Ew! I quickly concluded that the brownish lump must be a crumb of gingerbread (remember the darling cookies? Playgroup at my house last week resulted in many small hands carrying gingerbread throughout the house. I thought I had removed all trace of crumbs, apparently not.) and that with the generous "housewarming" gift they now felt at home.

Swarms of sugar ants on my floor!

How dare they enter MY domain!

Death to black crawling, multi-legged creatures!!!

One problem: How do you kill ants?

While growing up, when faced with an ant dilemma, we usually boiled a pot of water and poured it down the ant hole. Granted, we usually found them outside on the brick patio and this was an acceptable solution. Waves of boiling water washing over my bathroom floor would certainly kill ants, and yet create more of a problem for me. Nix that idea. And I don't have assorted creepy-crawly death-in-a-bottle bug sprays. We left those in Abq.

What then?

The only solution I could reach in the instant I took to react (perhaps taking more time would have been better, but I hate crawling things inside...that's my territory and they aren't allowed!!) I ripped the rugs off of the floor and designated them for the laundry. Then I returned, armed with Lysol.

Yes, my friends. Lysol manages to kill the little bugs and other potentially harmful stuff that you can't even see. Death and disinfectant all in one bottle! (Who knew?)

And so, in a sea of Pacific Fresh Lysol (original flavor reminds me of the cadaver lab), the ants met their death. A and Ch took great delight in pointing out any speck that moved, which I would promptly shower in suds.

I was so proud of myself to get them all killed and cleaned up before S got home. All that met him was a gleaming tile floor when he inspected my handiwork.

Happy Day!

I wish I could say that was the end of it.

Grey and early the next morning, S kisses me good-bye and informs me that he's sorry, but there are more ants. This time they are in the playroom (where Ch snuck a snack and left a crumb) and up the cupboard in the bathroom. I groggily ask what cupboard? The only one we have, J. Oh, that one. I can't imagine why they would want to carry away the towels? Exit S.

And so begins the next adventure. They aren't on the floor, which I thoroughly destroyed of all things ant. They are coming out of a new hole and up the entire length of the built-in cupboard, which reaches nearly to the ceiling. Great.


Then they crawled into the cupboard.

Yes, friends, over and under and along both shelves.


The ants go marching, one by one, hurrah....

They weren't too interested in the ponytails and hair ribbons, but delighted to find the medicines. See how they crawled into my white basket? And across the shelf to the pink "bubble-gum medicine"? Not many, you say? No need to worry?

This is the sight I beheld when I pulled the basket down to peer inside at what the heck they could be getting into. (yes, they are swimming in "pacific fresh", and so are my cough syrups.) Great opportunity to pare down the contents of the medicine cabinet. Prior to moving, I had weeded out expired meds, here go the rest of them.

Out of curiosity I opened the lid to the NyQuil and this is what greeted me. Child resistant caps aren't ant resistant, heck, half the time they don't even deter the determined toddler from de-capitation.

My friend Anna pointed out that I was probably responsible now for the next generation of mutant sugar ants. I mean, what does NyQuil do to an ant? How much do they need before they get drowsy? Perhaps they fell asleep right in the lid? What sort of buzz were they on?!


Here's a sampling of what I feed the ants at my house. They're not gonna feel a thing when they die. (Hmm...I seem to like generic drugs.)

Ever present at my side was my faithful side-kick The Charlinator, shrieking at moving specks, insisting he could take the Lysol gun on a solo mission. Right. We used so much of the blue death water that we were getting high on the fumes.

Then I opened the drawer and found, yep, MORE ANTS!! There isn't even anything to eat in that drawer and they were swarming...(although the liner was a red/white gingham check... perhaps they are programmed to be attracted to the "picnic" blanket look.)

(Oh, and did I mention that I was waiting for the cable guy to come and install high-speed Internet service? You know the routine: between 8 and noon. The last serviceman that I waited for never showed up-twice. Waiting for four hours is not my idea of a good morning.)

So. Quarter to twelve and no cable guy and a bathroom full of Lysol fumes and dead ants. I was reaching the end of my "nice mommy" reserves.

S to the rescue!

He came to deal with the cable guy (who had arrived precisely at noon) while Ch and I went to an enrichment lunch at the church.

My sanity saved...I put hotels up for the relations of the dead. We want to be accommodating, right?

Yeah.

SOLD

Last week we sold our house.

For real. Final. History.

I have mixed emotions. Part of me is sooo relieved to have sold it when this is not an especially good market for selling.

Part of me is mad that the new owners want to paint.

(Then I remember that the first thing we did when we moved in was paint. Boy, it needed it too. Maybe I'm irked because when we left we touched up every nail hole we made. (I wonder if they removed the "Find Joy in Every Journey" vinyl decal over the fireplace...)

This is what I loved about our house: It was our first home. The laundry room was red, bright cheerful, deep red. So was the lower wall in the kitchen. I loved the 13' ceilings and the huge clock and red drapes below. I loved the tile jobs we did in the bathrooms. I loved the walls with faux finishes instead of wallpaper. I loved the backyard with grass and rocks. I loved the "man-cave" shed: 12'x20', lights, heater/ac, phone jack, which provided great storage. I loved the volunteer watermelon that inspired my green thumb. (I got a 40 lb watermelon last year, and assorted 16-20 lb.ers. This pic is the next year-pumpkins and watermelon.) I discovered I loved the gas stove...and want another! I loved the curvy sidewalk leading to the front walk. I loved the sunlight streaming through the windows in the early morning. I loved my neighbor, and crack-of-dawn jogging and playdates with our kids. I loved the commute for S--under 20 min. to each office. I loved being close to the zoo, aquarium, explora and shopping, yet feeling removed from it all. So many things I loved, so many memories there.

Safe.

Happy.

Home.

Good-bye little house.

I hope your new family loves you as much as we did.

ps. Here are some more pics...I realized I'm so busy taking pics of the children, I forget to catalogue the backdrop. Photograph your houses now!

I couldn't find a pic of the front...this is just under the eaves and shows what our brick looked like...and the bird nest that we watched this spring...four baby birds hatched. We hope they flew away. We're not sure.

Summer fun on the lawn with our Brown friends.

Skeleton Cookies

So. I saw the idea that Melissa got from Baking Bits and had to try it. Aren't they cute? I don't do alot for Halloween (not one of my favorite holidays) but this was too irresistable to pass up. I think my slightly twisted humor and love of anatomy kicked in.

I tried Martha Stewart's gingerbread recipe. The dough was really stiff, but perfect for little helpers to roll and cut out shapes from. (I've tried others that were too soft and difficult to work with.) Although it was a bit spicy for Alice, Charley didn't mind. I loved it. I also made Martha's Royal Icing for the frosting. Zippy lemony deliciousness. Hope you get some inspiration! Let me know if you try this!

The kids had a blast helping. Charley would cut out shapes right from the center of the dough. We worked on starting at the edges and filling in all the spaces. Alice started rolling and cutting all on her own. Charley then commenced to disintegrate the scraps with the remaining flour in a measuring cup. He just liked feeling squishy stuff between his fingers. Sometimes it's just fun to make a mess....he was really good about using only one hand, the one without the cast. (could you imaging gingerbread dough stuck on the plaster for two weeks?!? Ew!)

(animal shapes work best...something with a real skeleton....fish might be good too....I had to stop myself from running out and getting new cookie cutters. I had to use the moose, lamb (dog?), bat and gingerbread man that I already had on hand. Convincing Charley that Christmas trees wouldn't make good skeletons took awhile....)

As You Wish...

Don't get much bigger than that, schwan!!

Current

Phew! I think I've caught up with all that's happened. Look back and find pics in the moving posts. Not many, but a few. I managed to get them out of the camera, so look forward to many more! =)

Now that the traveloge is over, I can muse on every-day details and experiences. The joy. I know y'all can hardly wait.

Until then....

One Little Monkey...

...jumped across the beds
didn't stick his landing,
and fell upon his head.

Mama called the doctor,
and said with some alarm,
"I think our little Charley
has broken his left arm."

Doctor looked at Charley
took big pictures too,
and said sure enough, but
its not quite clean in two.

Charley got wrapped up in
a splint from elbow to hand
and came home exhausted
asleep, in bed, to land.

About one week later,
another Dr. to see,
his arm is getting better,
a smaller cast will be,

the perfect size for Charley,
to cover his left wrist,
with soccer balls all over
the top choice on the list.

Little Charley is fine,
a busy active boy,
a trial for his parents,
(who also brings great joy).

(Charles broke his arm Sept. 23, should get the cast off Oct. 22, just fine except he can't take baths like he wants to. As if my month wasn't already crazy enough....)

Oregon

...well folks, we made it. 1500 miles without a scratch and Scott has to hit the fence at the last corner and get stuck. No joke...he was stuck on the corner with the end of the truck. Getting unstuck involved removing the car from the carrier and relying on the assistance of a nice neighbor to pull the truck around. He claims the streets are sure narrow here. =)

We've been here one month and have only been slightly busy. Alice started Kindergarten, which she loves. She walked off with her class the first day without so much as a backward glance. (I was so worried because she had only been 5 for a week! There are some days when she would rather stay home and play, but overall the transition is pretty smooth. She doesn't offer information when I ask what she's done each day, but slowly it leaks out. She says "we learned". Practicing the politically vague answers at such an early age.) She goes in the afternoon, and Charley and I usually walk her to and from. Charley likes to ride his bike, and complains when we don't have time to walk and have to drive. (It only takes 12 min. to walk (with two little kids) and 5 to drive, with traffic).

We drove back to Utah for the full Top of Utah Marathon, which Scott and Kip finished.

Waiting in the frigid cold of the canyon winds for Daddy and Grandpa to run by. This was mile 14 of 26, just over halfway, and the first place where spectators were allowed along the road. Alice and Charley were not pleased to be waiting in the cold and both wanted to be held and blocked from the wind.

Due to holding children and cheering for the men, this is the first picture taken, of their back view, as we hurried off to the next cheering point. If you look closely, above the red shirts, there is a blue shirt and grey shirt running together. Scott is grey, Kip is blue. Go team!

Run like the wind, Old one! Busy schedules, inexperience and running the first 14 miles faster than their half-marathon time (which was faster than they planned on) threw the guys off their 10 min-mile pace and the cramping set in. Hard to run with crampy legs. They refused to leave each other's side, and walk/jogged the rest of the marathon. (I'm not sure if they'd do it again, but they really enjoyed the half-marathon three weeks previous.) We drove and stopped at about four more places to cheer them on. While I was waiting for them to pass (the duration got longer at each stop) I cheered on every other runner I saw. Yeah. I was suffering from a flu/cold at the time and practically lost my voice. I love runners.

Charley ran up to them at the finish line and crossed with them, I was too busy yelling to get a pic, and by the time I caught up with them, Scott looked like this.

Here they are with their shiny moose finishing medals. Go Team! They're happy to have shared the experience (neither one would have made it if it weren't for the other), but it's not one they're planning on repeating any time soon. Scott could give you more details if you want them. (I don't think you want them...but ask anyway, if you must.)

We drove out to the coast and the children saw the ocean for the first time (although, once we arrived, it was lunch time and they enjoyed playing at the nearby park more than walking on the beach. Go figure.)

I'm so excited!!!!! to be this close. You will probably get sick of beach and coast pictures. Too bad.

Look really close and you can see a tiny person at the base of the right rock. Alice called it "The Volcano."

I will leave you now with a walk into the horizon....

The Anderson's Great Move--Part III

don't jump in the middle, read the other parts first...they're getting shorter, I promise! I've got to stop re-hashing my life and get on with it already! Sheesh....

When we rolled into town (Clinton, UT), we dropped the second car off at the mechanics. A different one. They were open. Most are on Friday. (Scott and Russ (my brother-in-law) picked up the cutlass from the other mechanic. I ran on the lush green lawn with all the kids and had a blast. There aren't many green lush lawns in Abq....just lots of rocks.)

While in New Mexico we learned that the cutlass threw a rod. Serious. No smoke, no smell, no leaking oil, no fireball engulfing the car. Just that clicking noise. And it still ran. But it wasn’t worth the price of a new engine. It became scrap. We were reduced to one vehicle—the Buick in the shop that we had no idea what was wrong. We prepared for the worst—with two down and gone we needed a vehicle and we needed one yesterday because we were still moving and had 800+ miles left to go. Four people don't fit in the cab of a Penske.

Do you know how fun it is to go car shopping when you have no vehicle? You must purchase whatever is available, you’re trying not to look desperate so you borrow a car (and pretend that the shiny Altima is yours and that you are casually looking for a "second" car--no it's not a trade in!) rather than be dropped off at a dealership….and you don’t mention that you’re unemployed and between states? I think we smell differently and only salespeople can pick up on it.

Side Note: On our move to Kentucky, we bought the '98 cutlass the day we left Logan (Side Side Note: this would be our second cutlass, as my still being used college car was an '82 cutlass--who owns two cutlass's (sp?) at the same time?*?))

Oh, yeah, and did I mention that Scott (and his dad, Kip) were running a ½ marathon on Saturday morning in Logan, UT? 13.1 miles. We did not drive up with them to the start, but rather planned on cheering them across the finish line two hours later. "Go Dad!" We didn’t make it to see them finish one hour and 55 minutes later. 5 minutes late. They lied, er, underestimated their time…but I’m not bitter in any way….

(He doesn't even look tired...and he was sooo excited to run in the full marathon after this little "practice" run)

anyhoo, back to the cars. We didn’t have much time. Saturday afternoon. Sunday was with my family, Monday was Alice’s birthday and our departure date for Oregon. Oh, wait. Monday was the day we would find out if our car could be fixed. Departure date moved to Tuesday. Monday was now car shopping day. We looked at some vans. (I’ve been in denial that the next step from a sedan is a mini-van. When family visits, we have to take two cars, and we can’t carpool for anything…I’m gonna have to take the plunge.) We test-drove a caravan. It was nice. I especially liked the push-button doors and the collapsable seats. I love options. Maybe I could do this...we decided to drive more on Monday.

So, Sunday I learn that my brother is selling his suburban. Hmm…. (the rest of Sunday was great—good to see family and friends and visit and eat delicious food! But again, not a main part of this story, lovely though….) On Monday we test drive it, and then some more vans. The dealerships told us their inventory was low and we should come back on Labor Day, and used vans were pretty much the same but if we broke down between Spanish Fork and Brigham City there was free towing (not beneficial at all if you live out of state) and roadside assistance while we owned the vehicle, and nothing in “geriatric tan". Really the options weren't too promising in our price-range.

And then we got good news** The Buick blew a head gasket and the engine seized, nasty but fixable. Work will be done that day. Yippee. Now we don’t have to have a car. We can make it on one until we find time to shop for something else.

But, now I want one.

And I want the suburban.

I'm insane. I only have two kids and nothing screams out "make me the scoutmaster" like rollinig into town with a suburban. Plus, they're huge! I wasn't even ready for a van, but I suppose if you're gonna upgrade, go big.

It just feels right, it feels good. Scott and I sit down with Justin and Celeste that night and make a deal. (They got a new suburban that had just arrived that Friday, nearly a month later than they expected, but freeing up the old suburban just in time for us…coincidence you ask? Or perhaps I had to be knocked over the head (or head gasket) to say "fine! I'll take it! and I'll be HAPPY about it, okay?!?)

We drove away with it that night, promising to send a check in the mail once we got the loan worked out. There are some advantages of being family....

We left for Oregon the next morning. Scott and Charles in the ginormous yellow Penske and Alice and I in the big, black Suburban.

(which, by the way, I love. =)

We're gonna be okay....headed back for average, unexciting, uneventful existence.

stay tuned...the tantilizing conclusion is just around the corner!!

(I don't know who the masked man was....sorry.)

The Anderson's Great Move -- Part II

you're gonna want to read Part I first....

We drove back to Albuquerque on Monday. We stopped along the way at Arches National Park, which Scott had never been to, and Four Corners National Monument, which I have wanted to see since I was a little girl. Good fun. (I can't show pics because they're stuck in the new camera and I can't figure out where the software went for managing the pics--I'm sure it's in a box somewhere....)

*found it-here I am, in four states at once! Utah, Colorado, Arizona and New Mexico.

Once we got home we started boxing everything else up right away. We had some errand stuff to take care of (brake job, join AAA, get moving truck) and we worked like crazy people to get it all done. We only had one car now so we had to take turns. Sharing is hard when you're used to your own toy. Anyway. We got everything packed up, Sabrina (Bludworth) and Yolanda (Tucker) helped me pack up the kitchen—Thanks. My Young Women came to help clean on Wednesday (I didn’t have to do the bathrooms*yeah**). Scott and I did the rest. We had everything ready to go right on time. We said farewell to Dion’s pizza *sniff* by eating dinner there on Thursday night. Our plan was to pack up and head out that night, get some of the journey over with and besides, our house was empty and we had nothing to sleep on.

I dropped Scott off at home by 6 to pack up the big yellow Penske (no U-haul for us—the alternator fell off the last one we used) with the help of the Elder’s quorum. This consists of Scott in the truck arranging the puzzle pieces of all our belongings and the other guys bring the gifts of cardboard up to him. I headed up to Sam’s club to get the contacts (prescription running out, no Sam’s in Oregon, last chance….) I even had enough time to stop at Target for some Dr. Pepper--in preparation for the long night ahead.

On my way home I accelerated at a green light and didn’t move—very far that is. Oh, great^&$% not again* This time, the check engine light came on as well. I couldn’t believe it, but the car would barely do 20, and that was with a lot of coaxing.

So. Once again, I am stranded in a dysfunctional vehicle.

I have no phone. I am not near a phone. I am not near home. It would take me 45 min to walk home and it was getting dark.

In all my brilliance, I plunged forward and kept going, the 10 min drive taking about 20, the car limping around the corner of the house where I turned it off. I mentioned to Scott (furiously loading the truck) that I killed the good car. He said he couldn’t deal with it right then. I went inside and cleaned. He loaded. Time passed.

I double checked that everything was out of every cupboard and closet and room and noticed the refrigerator still in the kitchen. This was our fridge, and we were planning on taking it with us. I went out to Scott at the truck, where he was cinching up the rope across the back so that everything didn’t fall out.

“So, you don’t have room in there for a fridge, do you?”

Ah, no, unless I wanted to leave the bookcase and Alice’s toy kitchen. Hmm….let me think about that…. (I was already forced to leave a twin bed, and two white storage cupboards—one for my fabric and one for my food). Grr%$#** The fridge stayed. I didn’t have the energy to fight for it.

Then Scott went to start the car up to drive it up onto the trailer. It didn’t start. Even cleaning the battery (thank goodness for Dr.P*) and attaching cables to jump it didn’t work. Buick down. Seriously injured (I have since found out that if the check engine light comes on, pull over and do not drive). Luckily the elders quorum are fine strong strapping youths and the six of them were able to push the car up and secure it. Yeah.

We drove out of town with all of our earthly possessions in the yellow truck (26 feet long) and towing a dead car. The second dead car in five days. (One week ago, we had a job, a house and two cars. We were living the dream. Now we had no income (temporarily albeit), a yellow truck (borrowed) and two dead chunks of metal and domestic engineering. Amazing how fast life can change.)

We drove away with a spectacular lightning display across the sky—from every side it was magnificent and it lasted hours. Fireworks in celebration? Hmm…. Now, moving trucks are not exactly the most comfortable rides. We were bounced and jostled and jiggled the whole drive. Scott made it to Cuba, we slept for 30 min., we made it to Monticello, slept for an hour and made it to Moab for breakfast. (the cinnamon rolls at the Moab diner were a disappointment, nobody makes them like mamma….) Then we were off again to Clinton. I don’t think we slept for more than an hour for 36 hours.

Will Scott & Jen make it? What exactly was wrong with the cars? Will they be fixed, or stranded? (four people don't fit in a moving truck....)

And who was that masked man anyway? --stay tuned readers, for Part III....

The Anderson's Great Move - Part I

I know y'all have been asking for details, and news and wondering where we are. Well, here it goes….

We thought we’d stay in Albuquerque. We bought a house, we settled in, we enjoyed the scenery and climate and loved the people. Ah…so this is what it’s like….

We realized we weren’t staying as long as we thought. (This meant that we had to finish the 9-mo. long bathroom remodel, it looked nice without blue painter's tape.) When we decided to move out, we moved fast—so fast that some people didn’t even realize we were moving. (I think we were gone in about a month.)

The Assignment: Move 1,466.24 miles~approximately (oh, yeah, and attend a wedding and attend a missionary return-both in Utah during the same two week time period.)

The Plan:
Part I: Go to wedding on Friday (travel to sister’s house Wed—3 hours, drive all Thursday to get to Grandma’s in time—8 hours) with reception that night, and open house Saturday—breathe on Sunday
Part II: Drive to Albuquerque—on Monday (620miles). Pack up and clean an entire house on Tuesday, Wednesday, load it onto a truck Thursday, drive back to Utah on Friday.
Part III: Scott run a ½ marathon on Saturday (in Logan), missionary return on Sunday, drive away forever on Monday (Alice’s birthday) and Tuesday
Part IV: Be in new house Wednesday, register for kindergarten Thursday, and unpack to be ready for school and work on Tuesday (Monday was Labor Day). Plenty of time to relax and get settled in.

The Reality: “The best laid plans of mice and men do often go awry…”

We managed to pack up the kids and get to my sister’s house on Wednesday. Scott didn’t show up until nearly midnight (it was his last day at work and he had to mow the lawn). Oh, did I mention that we were driving two cars on the first trip up? (Scott in the “new” ’97 Buick LeSabre, and me in the “old” ’98 Oldsmobile Cutlass—I know, classy cars.) We figured if we were leaving our kids, we might as well leave an extra car, and then Scott and I could enjoy driving to Abq and back together (pulling the extra car behind the moving truck on the return). Brilliant.

Well, our plans to leave early and get the 7 hour drive were thwarted by:

1. the cell phone registering Arizona time (non-daylight savings: -1 hour)


2. we left late: -1/2 hour


3. we took the long “short-cut”: -1 hour.

At this time we still had 7 hours left in our journey. (Wait, wasn’t that what we started with?) Three stops for one lane road construction, a horrible mickey-d lunch experience (ever try drinking a milkshake without a straw?) and we were cruisin’. Then came the race for the potty break—no trees to hide behind in the desert of eastern Utah. I think Scott was going 80 before he made it to the freeway (I-70).

Anyway. Just as we passed through Price, heading for the eternally loooonnnnnng canyon connecting to Spanish Fork, we were separated by a very slow semi-truck, and the car started to make funny noises.

So, I lose my momentum and I lost Scott (I was following him). The noise emitted by my “Gutless Cutless” sounded like a card flipped by spokes. Not good. Click-click-click went the engine, increasing in volume and decreasing in speed when I pressed my lead foot on the accelerator. I recall being pleased with 45mph acceleration.

Yeah, this was definitely not good.

I knew we were in real trouble when I pulled off the shoulder, let a bunch of cars pass, and attempted to return to my journey only to be nearly smooshed into a guardrail by a very angry semi. They have loud horns. I think my angels were working overtime. Alice was traveling with me, and we were both in tears. She said a prayer for us, and I rolled down the windows to let some air in. (I had turned off the air-conditioner when I realized we weren’t going anywhere fast…) With the windows down, and the rush of air and traffic coming in, I couldn’t hear how much the car protested, so I pushed in and kept going.

(Now, if you’ve ever driven through this canyon, you can appreciate that once you’re in, you’re in. Most of the drive is one lane each direction, with occasional passing lanes and lots and lots and lots and lots of hills. Torture in bad weather—we came up once over Christmas and Scott followed the dotted line to stay on the road—we couldn’t see the edges in the rain.)

What were my choices? Stop? Where?—there’s no shoulder and no space where you would be safe, I had no cell phone and no way of contacting Scott or anyone else. So, we kept going uphill and Alice prayed that daddy would find us. I hoped he realized something was wrong when we weren’t right on his tail (like we’d been all day) or he was going to be all the way through the canyon and have to turn back to find us—hopefully alive. So. We kept going, I drove with hazards on whenever I could and stayed as much on the shoulder as I could.

Finally I saw Scott—yipee%*&^ (exclamation points aren’t allowed.) He was pulled over and started going again when he saw us. I flashed every light I could get my hands on and yelled for him to get back off the road. He must have heard me because he pulled over again. (See, it does work) I pulled up beside him, and he rolled down his window and I think I tried for two minutes to say something and couldn’t because I was trying not to cry at the same time. (I found out later he thought I had stopped for a potty break in Price, gotten behind, and was mad that he hadn’t waited….this was the third time he’d pulled over to wait…and he didn’t think it was me because of the traffic I was plugging up—ie, the motor home right behind me going 30mph…I don’t usually drive that slow.) I finally spit out that it’s the car and clue him in to the cause of my near hysteria.

He listens.

Yeah, doesn’t sound so good.

Now, I will recount the “tender mercies” of the Lord in watching out for us.

1. We didn’t get smooshed by the cars behind us


2. the car made it to the top of the canyon (yes, it was mostly downhill after that)


3. we stopped at an old abandoned gas station with plenty of parking for two cars


4. we had cell phone reception (top of the canyon thing) to make some calls—to the mechanic brother-in-law who said it didn’t sound good, and to leave it and to the parents to tell them what was happening and why we would be late


5. I hadn’t over packed both cars for the journey up (this will make more sense in a moment)


6. my sister (and her baby) had declined the invitation to come with us a few days ahead of when she was planning on coming


7. we were driving two cars (this will make sense after part II)

We ended up transferring all of the essentials to the Buick (everything fit)—with more stuff or more passengers this wouldn’t have happened. We left the Cutlass with a note that we would tow it out in a day or two, and we took off for Clinton. (near Ogden).

Yeah. The rest of the day was uneventful.

The next day was the wedding—all day stuff, very beautiful and fun and not more in this story—hey, it wasn’t my wedding (but did I mention that it was my anniversary? 7 years, thank you).

Saturday Scott, Brian and Fletch (75% of the manpower) went to haul the car out of the canyon. We left it at a mechanics that afternoon. They were closed. Most are on Saturday.

Sunday we slept and stayed in our pajamas all day and ate ice cream out of the carton. Well, I would have liked that, but we had to get ready to leave the kids and make the return journey. That’s the next part….