Looking forward to...

This Thanksgiving I'm looking forward to everything this picture depicts. Hangin' out with the fam. This picture is on Ben's birthday, when he turned 27. Wow.

I love that everyone comes home for the holidays. I love that they love to be together. They are incredible kids and Gordon and I count ourselves so lucky to have them. Even more than the turkey, stuffing, sweet potatoes, cranberries, rolls, etc; I enjoy the after-time. Laying on the floor doing nothing and talking about nothing and everything.

I am so thankful for family. Mine was somewhat dysfunctional growing up. They are everything I wished for when I was young. And more.

Oh, and I'm thankful for mint m&m's again. But that's another post.

The Legend of Stinky

We like to name our cars. Gordon's truck is 'Big Red', Rich's truck is 'Great White', Jessica's is the 'Mystery Machine' aka the 'Green Wienee', my car is 'Lady Wilson'. James and Suzanne had 'Commando' and now a car named 'Gandolf''. I don't think Scott has named his yet and I haven't heard any names for Ben & Laura's cars.

One of our all time favorite names is 'Stinky'. Stinky began life as a brand new car Larry & Janie purchased. It eventually went through their kids (I seem to remember Amy taking the side mirror off backing out of the garage; correct me if I'm wrong). By the time Rich had his drivers license, it was available for him to drive. Life then consisted of early morning paper routes for Richard and Ben and James and occasionally Scott (if Rich was feeling 'queasy'). Have you ever smelled a car that, over time, has a hundred or so papers rolled in it every morning?

Think somewhere between wet dog and stale bread. 'Stinky' was an understatement, but it fit so well.

He wasn't anything fancy - but functional. Stinky served the boys for a couple of good years, got good gas mileage, and survived quite well....

Until James got his drivers license. He took Stinky for the first time. When he came home and got out, I happened to be standing on the front porch. "What in the world happened to Stinky? His front end is smashed in!"

James' response? "Nothing happened; that's the way it (the front end) has always looked."

For hours he tried to convince us all that we were crazy. Stinky looked totally normal.

Of course, when his father came home, his tune changed and the jig was up. He had rear ended someone while taking Stinky on his first (official) maiden voyage. I say official because James didn't feel the need to wait for a silly thing like a license to drive. But that's another story.

Stinky survived a lot, and although he survived James' maiden voyage, all good things must end and so did he.

Long live the legend of Stinky.

Not Just For Men

During the BSU game last week Jo was working on a bedspread for one of the boys. I could tell the lighting wasn't all that great, so Gordon got his headlamp for her.

So many uses for the headlamp.

After the fact

A little after the fact, but here are some Halloween pics of the fam

This one's not Halloween, but the boys call this black cauldron the "honeypot". They had a great time pushing each other around in it until one of them took a header.

Ski Bunnies

Little Dragon

Two menacing pirates

Fall

A couple of weeks ago, Jo invited me to come along as she and the boys attended the local "farmfest" out in Kuna. It was so impressive. Of course there was the usual corn maze, but this one offered so much more. There was a kiddie hay-bale maze, swings, mini tractor rides, a big tractor ride where you could stop in the pumpkin patch and pick pumpkins, and concessions that included warm donuts.

Among the pictures I snapped, this one was the best. Four little dark pools peaking out from a hay-bale. I can hardly imagine what their little sis is going to look like......

The Regulator

A wagging finger

My dream calling in my church is to be the "regulator". The number 1 reason is because there is such a NEED for one.

Here are some of the duties I perform : (whether in my mind or in action, it happens every week).

*When a speaker goes too long, the regulator produces a cane with a hook and removes them from the pulpit.
*When incorrect doctrine is spoken, the regulator shines a laser pointer right into the offender's eyes, thereby causing him to cease and desist.
*When teachers are excused early to go and prepare their classrooms, the regulator stands at the door to verify if they are really teachers or just trying to pull one over on everybody. Because, hey - that group gets bigger every week.
*If the hymn is being sung too slow, the regulator taps a large plastic wand on the piano until the organist and everyone else gets up to speed.
*If the hymn is too fast.....nevermind. The hymn is never too fast.
*Unless....you are in Relief Society and the pianist, because she is not singing, runs into the next verse before you have finished the last line of the previous verse.
*The regulator makes sure that there are no long or unnecessary meetings. This is a big one and takes a lot of energy.
*The regulator provides a list of those wanting to give sacrament meeting talks. It is populated by those giving closing prayers lasting longer than 1 minute and containing it's own subject matter.
*When the time is up, the regulator stands up and pulls a hand across the throat as a sign to stop. This is especially useful, since the entire congregation sees it too. There's nothing like church peer pressure, is there? (This will have to be it's own post).

*When the third hour is over, it's over. Because we are like sponges, you and I. We are capable of soaking in during the entire lesson, but if it goes even one minute over (this includes the song) the sponge begins to leak at a very rapid pace, replaced by agitation and in some cases, hostility.
*Teach monthly seminars on how our church calling does not define who we are as a person. Nor does our church calling take precidence over other things, like say.....FAMILY.

Stay tuned for part II because trust me, I have only scratched the surface of the need for a ward regulator.

Who are "they"?

Sometimes pet peeves are just on your mind. This morning as I emptied the dishwasher and dumped water down the front of me, it was brought to the fore-front again.

Why do "they" make pan handles, strainer handles; you-name-it handles with little reservoirs on the bottom side of them? I can get the cups with a hollow spot on the bottom; they pretty much have to be made that way, but handles?

I think that "they" need an advisory panel (aka: regulator for anyone who knows my secret, yearned for church calling) to sift out these kinds of un user-friendly things about consumer goods.

Who are "they" anyway?

Who makes towels, anyway?

Has anyone noticed the braided edge of most towels?

I suppose the makers think they are pretty-ing up the towel, providing embellishment.

Pay attention the next time you are drying your hands after washing with hot, soappy water (several times per day, thanks to H1N1). Where do you grab to dry? The middle? No - the end, where the braided part is. There is no fluffy towel there.

When you step out of the shower or bath, what part of the towel do you use?

I am on a quest to find towels with no braided or embellished edges.

In the meantime, grabbing the towel in the middle to dry will have to do.

Just some random thoughts about towels.

Time for the Headlamp

I love it when I open the garage door and there is Gordon working hard, wearing his headlamp.
He and the boys just returned from their weeklong elk hunt in Eastern Idaho at Fall Creek. As I listen to them talk, they mention having their headlamps like it is as every day as carrying your car keys with you. Apparently, they have them in their "fanny packs" and when it gets dark and they are riding their horses back to camp, they pull out the headlamps.

What an image to imagine.

I have a headlamp in my car.

I should use it. I'll keep you posted.

Cease and Desist Order

What makes a blog slug? In my case at least.

I can go for weeks with something to blog about every day and then the seasons change and my blogging dwindles.

True, I am sad to see my favorite season end. But it's not depression; more a melancholy. I always feel this way when we have seen the last of summer.

I love the colors of the leaves changing and try not to focus on what comes next - dry brown branches leading into my least favorite season - winter.

I am trying to make this Jessica's best year ever before she takes off for college next fall. I'm determined that it will be a happy, exciting time for her. But inside, I fret. I think about this time next year. I wonder what life will be like with an empty nest.

But worry is not a productive activity. So I must cease and desist.

I must take my own advice and feed all of the positives in my life. And there are so many. I truly am a grateful soul. I thank the Lord every morning for all He has given me.

I think gratitude is the key to a happy life.

Father and Daughter

Jessica had the honor of being nominated for Homecoming Queen this year. Her proud papa was there to escort her on to the field.

While she wore her blue prom dress (she wore a shorter, different dress for the dance), Gordon fretted much more than she about what he should wear.

He had her convinced all week that he had a tuxedo tucked in the back of his closet and that I had taken it down to the drycleaners. I got to quietly nod my head and try to go along with things, even though keeping a straight face was hard at times.

"You have to tell him, Mom. Nobody will be wearing a tux; not even the boys nominated!"

"You will have to be the one to tell him", I said with a straight face.

She spent the better part of the week trying to subtly convince him that it really wasn't necessary to wear a tux. When he insisted, she told him they made some sort of announcement at school about what the parents should wear (this was a stretch at best).

Gordon replied by telling her that he had put a call in to Alta (the principal) and she gave the go ahead.

Finally, he gave in and told her he had been kidding her all week. It was a good one and we really had her going.

Teasing our kids has been one of the great joys of parenthood.

Notice how nicely his light blue tie coordinates with her dress.

Top 25

Summer seemed like it was going to last forever this year.

And it was.

Until Friday when the temperature dropped drastically and then Saturday when it started raining and hasn't stopped yet.
People say they love the change in seasons, particularly to the Fall. I love Fall too. I just wish it didn't have to push summer out of the way.

So, in a fond farewell to summer, here are some of my favorite things:

Top 25 of the summer:
1. Scott getting home.
2. Going to the cabin right after Scott got home.
3. Scott's homecoming weekend.
4. Seeing all of the family for Scott's homecoming.
5. Watching my boys goof around together, obviously happy at being together.
6. Watching Jess finally having a sibling semi-her age around again.
7. Jess skiing & Scott watching her for the first time & being very impressed.
8. Scott skiing and throwing the rope when the water got rough.
9. Cam and Eli warming up to Scott as though he never left.
10. Ben & Laura moving home to Boise.
11. Helping Ben & Laura find the house of their dreams.
12. Getting slurpees with Jess.
13. Getting our new boat, the Black Marauder.
14. Rich & Jo organizing our Lucky Peak camping trip.
15. James introducing Scott to his bride, Suzanne.
16. Horseback riding with Scott, Jess & Gordon.
17. Skiing for the afternoon/evening at Lucky Peak.
18. The hot, hot sun on my back.
19. Sunbathing with Jess.
20. My summer toasty-tan.
21. Freshly mowed lawn.
22. Flower pots overflowing.
23. Planting, cultivating and working in the yard.
24. My roses.
25. The sunshine!

In the grayness of the winter and in fairness to the seasons, I will post a top 25 of the fall. (A top 25 of the winter? That could be a stretch).

You're What?

A particular son of mine was at a party at his college, deep in the mountains of Provo. He was invited there by a former mission acquaintance. Standing outside with his room mates (all of them just recently returned missionaries), they were trying to work up the nerve to go inside and dance.

Nearby, a group of young ladies, some of them returned missionaries themselves, stood outside for the same reasons.

Soon the party thrower came out and got them to all go inside and just dance in groups with each other. It seemed to work well.

Really well. One really cute blonde sidled up to this particular son of mine and behaved very flirtatiously. Said son had a really good time and it felt good to break the ice.

Afterward, outside, all parties were talking and trying to figure out who lived where and with who. Said son was coyly trying to determine how he might find cute blond in the future. The conversation went something like this:

Son: "So you live with her and you two are room mates...... Where does she live?" (pointing to blond).

Random Girl: "Oh, she lives with her husband." It was then that he looked down and noticed the rock on her hand.

The ice wasn't broken - it was shattered. Said son was sure he did something to entice a married woman.

At first, I thought she was a really bad wife, tired of being married and out for a good time with friends.

The next morning I was sure she was still a bad wife, but trying to toy with newly returned missionaries to get a reaction.

Either way - This is a big time LOSER, with the "L" on the forehead.

I hope there aren't too many of this type at this place.

Bein' Right Where I Want to Be

Isn't it amazing how an image or a sound provokes memories?

Yesterday I was driving along, happily running errands and this song came on the radio, "cold (root) beer on Friday night, a pair of jeans that fit just right", hum de dum..... because I never remember all the words.

It catapulted me back to an evening this summer; July 4, to be exact. We were riding in the boat to see fireworks and this song was blasting. It has a nice part about stars and stripes and our wonderful country and it was very fitting for the occasion.

But the memory that comes the strongest is being all together, not a care in the world, and being exactly where I wanted to be.

I love it when this happens. It helps us preserve some of life's great moments.

Saturday I was cleaning out my "drink fridge" in the garage and sitting next to it was this old warped case of water. If you look closely, you will see sand in the bottom of it.

I was taken back to boat camping at Lucky Peak on a 100 plus day. Rich called; we needed more water, water, water. So we plopped a couple of cases right there in the water at the beach to try and keep them semi cold.

And then,
Fire
Making s'mores with Cam & Eli
Fireside conversation
Sirens & helicopters
Tent conversation
Dutch oven cooking
Water skiing
Hangin' out
Cam jumping on the tube tied to the dock
Eli wearing his sun glasses as he played in the water
Bein' right where I wanted to be.

'Being where you want to be' is the reward for doing all the things we don't want to do and being where we necessarily don't want to be. There is a lot of that in day to day life.

Where are you?

Ramblin' Rose

In February, when I trim my roses, I decided to move this little beauty from the backyard to the front yard. The one that was there was struggling and not looking so good, so they basically traded places.
Did you know this about Rose bushes? You can't plant one in the same dirt where you previously had one; well you can, but it won't grow well.


When I moved this baby, she was just a mass of dried cane, like they all are when you cut them down in February. I nurtured her through the spring - nothing. Through the beginning of summer - nothing; until.....one day I noticed a few little green sprouts coming up from her root. (This is how transplanted Roses will re-surge ((in my little opinion and experience)) ).

She grew, but seemed stunted in size. The bush only got knee high (on my knee you know that's not very high). Her buds were mini and I was sure I now had a mini Rosebush. I was worried that she had gone back to her wild state; Roses tend to do this whenever they suffer any trauma. They turn into a wild, generic Rose, blooming in different colors, sizes and of lesser quality.

But I was relieved to see 6 or 7 beautiful pink blossoms return. Then she seemed to really do nothing until this week I noticed that she had grown in leaf and in blossom.

I think she is back.

And I am so happy with the outcome, I am considering relocating this one to the front next year.
And that's the end of the rambling Rose stories (for now).

Ripsnorter

ripsnorter
\RIP-SNOR-ter\
noun
: something extraordinary : humdinger

Two of my favorite ripsnorter football games of the weekend include:

BSU roasting the Oregon Ducks last Thursday. Our own Michael Ames, #54 started as a freshman after a two year mission and redshirt year. He was fantastic!

BYU all out beating Oklahoma on Saturday night. Bob Stoops was stoopified'.

Speaking of ripsnorters, isn't this a great picture of Gordon riding Buzz?

Is it just me?

Is it just me?

inflammable
\in-FLAM-uh-bul\
adjective
1 : flammable*2 : easily inflamed, excited, or angered : irascible

Or is this definition misleading?

Tree Goiter

A goiter - GOY'-der (AmE) (Latin gutteria, struma), also called a bronchocele, is a swelling in the thyroid gland, which can lead to a swelling of the neck or larynx.

One Sunday dinner we were talking and the subject randomly turned to goiters. (Don't ask how...I couldn't tell you if I remembered....) I had never heard of a goiter before but found the word facinating. Try saying it over and over and it becomes really funny.

Maybe it's just me.

While we were riding horses last week, Scott made this discovery.

A tree goiter.
I was sad to hear that before we put iodine in salt, many people had to live their lives with great big goiters protruding from their neck.

Certain people I know remember people who had goiters.
Just thought I would share some random thoughts about goiters.

Toilet Talk

Maybe it's because I cleaned 3 of our 4 bathrooms today that toilets are on my mind tonight.

I used to use "clorox" drop-ins in all of the toilets and loved how clean they stayed. But my toilets were always clogging up and all of my big boys were gone.....

So....I had to find out why. I had a plummer (plumber?) come and take a look. He pulled out a chunk of the drop-in. It was keeping other "drop-ins" from going all the way down - if you know what I mean.

So no more of those. It has been over a year now and as I cleaned this morning, I wondered why I had to clean so often. Then I remembered it was because I no longer used this great product.

I am determined to find something to replace the c d i's. And I can't abide blue water.

Any suggestions?

Riding Away

On Thursday we went for a ride on the horses - Gordon, Myself, Scott & Jess. It was a beautiful sunny day and we had a spectacular time.
We were trying to wring the last bit of fun and family togetherness out of the summer we have had with Scott.

He left for BYU today. I won't talk about how empty the house seems tonight. It was a wonderful, wonderful summer.

Happy Trails to you, Scott.