Thoughts On a Saturday

I bought new mascara.  I always go for the brown tint, because I'm whiter than white with red hair.  I also have blond eyelashes.  (Gasp!  I know you're shocked.)  So I need brown to even things out.  But I accidentally bought black.  Not cool man.  Not cool.

I should post a baby bump picture, but I'm a little self-conscious about how big I am.  I am only 20 weeks, but have a rather large belly.  Then, I thought that I shouldn't care. I always try really hard to have a positive body image, no matter what state my body is in.  If I'm healthy, that is what matters.  So I'm going to stop comparing my baby bulge to others I've seen recently.  So look for that bump picture real soon.  I'm pregnant!  Let's celebrate for crying out loud.

Does Apple really expect people to read SIXTY-FOUR pages of terms and conditions?  Seriously?  Who has ever read that before they bought an app?  What if page 57 says that if I download apps and music from Apple, I agree to be a subject to the alien king, Applelinkterharmonoker.  Whenever he decides to take over the planet.  At least we know he likes music and Angry Birds.  


I have a picture problem.  My kids are growing up right before my eyes, and I am the worst documenter in the world.  I have a camera.  Two actually.  But they are never handy, need charging, locked away in a room from tiny fingers and clumsy toddler hands.  Good gravy.  So I mostly have snapshots from my phone.  And as always, high quality res, and outstanding composition is what I'm all about.

Can you tell what's going on here?  This was a one time attempt.  Her idea.  She sat for about 2.5 seconds, hopped up and said "potty!"  We're not quite there.  And I'm ok with that.  Don't mind her audience.  We will get around to teaching privacy and the like.  

This one was snapped for Chris' benefit.  He was at work and loves when I treat myself.  So I had to share the good news.  I love these dang sandwiches!  It's especially awesome that you can order online and 30 minutes later you have lunch.  If Jimmy John's ever needs a spokesman, like someone who can't just run out and get lunch on a whim, so that person thinks the online ordering and delivery is extra, extra special, I hope they call me.  That is a genuine smile!  I wouldn't have to fake my enthusiasm.  So call me JJs! You can pay me in sandwiches.     

My kids love their daddy so much.  So do I.  

Reason #43 why I am a terrible picture taker.  My subjects never hold still long enough to get a decent shot.   

If I were to title this picture, I would call it Independence.  

Freedom to choose is the theme of this stage right now.  The boys decided that pants were slowing them down.  No amount of coaxing, tricking or putting them back on 800 times would keep them on.  They had made up their minds.  Sunny dresses herself lately.  Including the killer purple headband which almost caused a meltdown the other night because I wouldn't let her wear it to bed.  So, for me, this little scene sums up their very independent and strong wills I have been trying to figure out and simmer down lately. (Not simmer down their independence.  Simmer down the resulting tantrums and chaos that ensues from expressing said independence.)  

Which is why it's extra sweet when they all play in the same space.  It's their choice.

Thanks for reading my weekend mind spew.  We'll be outside at some point today, soaking up the springy weather.  Maybe I'll even bring a camera.

You Lookin' For Me?

Welcome to another edition of 

Google Search That Brought You To My Blog!

I give you today's phrase:

 pregnancy marathon mormon halloween family blog running

Umm, if this doesn't sum up what this blog is about, I don't know what does.  

Well, Google searcher person, I hope you found plenty of pregnancy, marathon, mormon
related posts about my family and a few good times we have during Halloween!  


Glad you stopped by!  Come back anytime.  (You should probably bookmark me or something.)


Love, 
Kara

Thoughts on a Saturday Morning

I miss running.

I haven't ran in months.  I know physically, I could.  There is nothing medically holding me back.  But -- uffda!   The thought of moving faster than 3.5 miles an hour makes me want to lay down and take a nap.

I did go on a (semi-brisk) walk this morning with my ex-running partner.  Ex because she used to run too.  There were runners out in droves today.  A couple of women ran by us, geared up with their hydration belts and tights.  "That used to be us."  She said it right as I was thinking it.

We'll run again someday.  I have this whole pregnant / baby thing going on right now.  She's just getting over having cancer.  So, you know, life gets complicated sometimes.  It's amazing to think we were both getting ready to run a half-marathon this time last year.  And even crazier that my baby is due on the year anniversary of when we ran up a mountain, then back down, totaling 26.2 miles and didn't die.  There are other marathons besides the running kind.  Some of these even have bigger rewards.


I glanced at my google searches today.  Funny.  Here is a few searches people have done recently that have brought them to my blog.  I'll try to explain if I can.

• decline swim, swam, swum  - the time I wrote about taking swim lessons as an adult.  Complete with preschoolers waiting their turn and feeling like Michael Phelps after I swam 1/2 a lap.

• double wide strollers from hell- I have written about strollers quite a bit.  But from hell?  Good luck with that, whoever did this search.  You should probably stay away from that stroller if you ever find it.  Just a suggestion.

• dr. scott sampson mormon - the Dinosaur Train guy!  Remember when I met him because of an essay I wrote?  That was cool.  He gave such an amazing lecture about kids and nature.  It actually popped in my head yesterday when Gabe went to pick up a dead spider.  I almost stopped him, but remembered Dr. Scott's advice -- let children discover nature on their own.  Don't implant your own ideas about what they should and shouldn't be interested in.  i.e. picking up spider corpses is not something I would do, but he needs to discover his world.  So he touched a dead spider.  Big deal.  We're both still ok.  Also, I don't think Dr. Scott is a mormon.  Not everyone that lives or has lived in Utah is mormon.  Shocking, but true.  He's a brilliant guy.  If you have time, listen to his lecture I went to last year.  Especially if you're a teacher or have kids or even both or even none of those.  Just listen to it.  You won't be sorry.

• duct tape to fix stroller wheel - yup.  Been there, done that.  Again, good luck to you, google searcher.  

• icebath runninggear - first, you should try out the space bar more often.  It's a handy tool.  Second, ice baths are awesome and terrible.  I love them after really long runs (anything over 15 miles).  But I scream and hiss and make weird squeaky noises while getting in.  I miss running.  

• rexburg "making out" - oh boy.  I did attend a school in Rexburg, ID it's true.  Not a lot of "making out" went on though.  Promise.  Not sure why the searcher put it in quotes either.  Not sure I want to know the current euphemism for "making out."  Whoever you are, save your kisses!  Don't give them away so easily.  I know Rexburg is small and boring, but there are better things to do than "make out."  Like donate plasma!  Or work in a potato factory!  Or prank call guys in your ward!  Or look up cute boys on the student data base!  Or elaborate on old rumors from apartment complexes you live in!  Ahh Rexburg, you'll always have a strange, potatoey place in my heart.  

We are going to the park today, on this balmy Saturday.  I couldn't be happier about this winter weather we've had.  I'm sorry to all the snow people who do stuff in the snow and like the snow and have outfits that are made for being in the snow for long periods of time.  We're not those people.  

I'm missing being in Richfield right now to watch my youngest brother do his thing at the divisional wrestling tournament.  He's an amazing athlete, student, brother and all around good kid.  Thankful other members of our family are there to cheer him on.  

I throughly enjoyed and devoured a 32 oz Peach Perfection smoothie from Jamba last night, courtesy of a devoted husband who has never once complained about helping his wife indulge in recent cravings.  It was really good.  

I love the weekend.  Now I'm off to take a long shower because there is another adult in the house that will listen and get up with my napping darlings.  (It's the little things that make me happy.)

I Am Annoying

I am THAT girl.

Chris calls me a maven.  I call myself concerned with the truth and facts.  But everyone else probably just calls me annoying.

The other night  I was in a conversation with a fellow pregnant lady. (Along with a couple other women.) As most pregnant conversations go, the talk turned to bathroom breaks.  She mentioned how she had to go more at the beginning of her 2nd trimester than any other time.  She thought it was strange and didn't know why that was.  

But I did!  I had JUST read about it, like 3 days ago.  I was her answer.  I was able to solve her mystery.  She would no longer wonder why the frequent bathroom trips at that point.  Wouldn't she be thrilled to know!?!  How could I even wait for her to finish the rest of her story.  

Her:  "So I'm not sure why that was, but now that I'm further along -"

Me: "You know, I just read -"

She kept going.  The others listening didn't care what I just read.  It was slightly embarrassing.  So I listened and let her finish.  In fact, the conversation went in another direction.  My important fact was completely irrelevant.  But did I care?  No.  The truth had to be known.  I couldn't let a mystery that I had the key to go unsolved.  

So I spoke up.  

"Hey, remember when we were talking about you going to the bathroom..."

Yea.  It was as awkward as it sounds.  

Annoying.  She was nice though and listened to my ever so important fact.  I'm sure she slept better that night knowing the truth.

PS - it's the increased blood flow.  Your blood increases at the beginning of your second trimester which adds more fluid which accounts for more frequent potty breaks.

You're welcome.

   

Happy

I'm really enjoying the sunshine lately.  

The kids took a fabulous morning nap.  So fabulous in fact, I was able to read every section in the paper.  Not just my normal, flip to the comics section.  That is usually the first priority when I have 

limited paper-reading time.  How about those 100mph winds yesterday, huh? Whew nelly! (That's the kind of thing us paper-readers say.)

I just made hummus.  With lots of garlic.  It just might be gone before lunch is over.

I went running in the 25 degree weather this morning with a friend.  She happens to be in the middle of her first chemo treatment.  Chemo be danged.  She wanted to run, so I happily and eagerly came along.

I just read this post, which tipped my already sparked Christmas spirit into a burn.  I really do love celebrating the birth of the Savior.  I hope I can relay that my little munchkins, who happen to be up from their nap now.  They are saying "Hi!" to each other from across the room.  

There aren't many things I love more than hearing them talk to each other in a happy, 'hey, you're still here too, I really like you,' kind of way.  

They make me happy.  So does the sunshine, a fresh morning paper, hummus, running, and Christmas.  

But those three?  They make me ridiculously happy.

Cheers to a great Friday!

    

Thoughts on a Thursday

I'm wondering when one grows out of the "I have to wash two pairs of hands after I change a diaper" stage. In my case sometimes three. (And those really interesting days, four pairs.)

What are you doing down there mom? Let me feel around and see...

What are you doing over there mom? Let me come over and help with whatever it is your doing...

Now I'm wondering how many of my readers I just alienated by putting a yucky image in their heads.

I'm having cream cheese chicken for dinner tonight courtesy of Howe to Cook. Go there and follow them. They are awesome. I would also like to win whatever it is they are giving away next.

I really need Axe to stop their campaign towards young men. Seriously. Girls will not automatically flock to your side because you smell like every other person at your high school. Don't ask me why I care. I just do. Stop it Axe!

Go Wofford. (Don't tell me neighbor I said that.) (Or the rest of the state.)

I meant to say "my" neighbor. But I think I'll keep it because I'm pretty sure that's how leprechauns talk.

Why does food on a tray not get eaten, but that same exact food that is thrown on the floor gets put in mouths faster than mom can get out the broom and sweep it up?

Did you know I have three Walker, Texas Ranger's at my house? No, there is no one here who can kidney punch a full grown bear. But once a nickname pops out of my mouth in a spontaneous moment, it stays for a while. All three little rascals have taken steps. Some do it for longer stretches. Either way, it's been very fun(ny) to watch.

Christian: full speed, wobbles, walks like he just got off a horse. Has many contusions and/or bumps from navigating his new world of mobility. (I'm walking, I'm walking, I'm walking, I'm CRASH...waaaaah...)

Gabe: short, little side steps. My little guy looks like a crab with all his side walking! But probably my favorite is the look on his face between points. It's a little...umm, panicked? (I'm gonna make, I'm gonna make it, I'm gonna make it...) But he is getting braver everyday.

Sunshine: small, calculated, sure of herself steps. I called this one from the beginning. She has been waiting to see all the mistakes her brothers have made in learning how to walk so she doesn't make the same ones. She takes about three steps, then slowly sits and resumes crawling. (That's enough for now. Walking is easy, but I'm not ready to do it down the hall.)

My final thought is a favorite St. Patrick's Day quip I overheard in a conversation last year. It's deep in the archives. But I found it for you here.

Cheers and a green, happy day to you all!

A Plea

I know it's been a while since my last post. I also know that any time spent on this blog should be spent posting pictures of my three darling monsters and letting readers know that they are now eating solid foods.

However, I would like to please, please ask Taylor Swift to STOP WRITING SONGS! Please. And for the love of mike everyone, stop buying her stuff! Don't you know it's the same song. The same song! Every time. When your local dj says, "New from Taylor Swift..." don't believe it! It's never new.

It's the exact same song as the last new song she had. She just rearranged the words, and the scenario of whatever boy she is after or dumping or in love with. In the words of Mugatu,

"I feel like I'm taking crazy pills here people!" Does anyone else not see this?

It's the same song.

Thank you. I'd officially like to classify this as a public service announcement.

And I promise I'll post pictures of the wee trio next time.

Hold the Mustard

Have you had mustard greens? Wow. If you like wasabi (and whom may I ask doesn't?!) then add mustard greens to your shopping list. I did thanks to a riveting episode of Chopped. (By the way, what did I do before my DVR?) (By the way, I think I use parenthesis way too much.) They are leafy and spicy and sauteed with a little olive oil, diced onions and garlic, they are simply delicious. On a scale of one to ten, I would give it a "whoa nelly."

It was one of those things that I wouldn't have done if my husband would have been home. Green leaves in a fry pan isn't exactly his idea of a meal. But since he was gone, the menu went slightly strange, bordering on weird and I loved it. (Darling, never leave us again! We are all so glad you are home.)

Since I'm on the subject of food. I have had 3 hamburgers in the past week. If you know my eating habits on an intimate level, you would think that is an exorbitant amount of ground beef. I can't explain it. I am loving burgers right now. I even had a plan to make a spicy, homemade burger with mustard greens instead of lettuce for a condiment! It was a plan mind you. Never actually happened. And, and! I ate a double burger today. A Double Burger! I know it's silly, but it is the first double burger I've ever had. It was from Rumbi Grill. There was pineapple on it. There was teriyaki sauce on it. It was divine. I ate the entire thing.

The scary part of the recent hamburger splurge is roughly a year ago, when I was brand new with child (children), I craved burgers. Oooooooooooo. (These ooo's are to be read like a ghost is haunting you.) Oooooooooooooo!

OOOOoooooOOOooooooOOOO!

Did I scare you? I kind of scared myself a little. Don't worry. It's just about the burgers. No bun and or buns cooking in my oven.

Hmmm. I'm making myself hungry. Maybe there is some spicy lettuce left over in the fridge.

Tips From The Edge

I don't have time to send post cards, so I'm writing tips. Just a few. Plus, I never have stamps with me. Never. Let alone post card stamps. Seriously. Do people still send those?

Have your salt ready, because you might need more than one grain.
(Mostly this is therapy for me.)

**Warning - one mild adult sentence below referring to 'it.'**

If you ever meet a mom with more than one child and you are surprised, and you would like to know how that whole thing happened, do your best to refrain from asking said mom if her children are "natural." Because she thinks her children are indeed natural. She felt them kick and watches them grow and is otherwise very taken with the miracle of life. The opposite of natural? Robots? Cyborgs? Fantasy dolls dressed to look like babies? All babies are natural. The term you are probably looking for is "spontaneous." She might prefer that. Actually, unless you have developed some sort of relationship with this woman, just skip this question entirely. She probably doesn't want to use words like 'artificial insemination' in an aisle at Target. Which brings me another tip that might be helpful. Don't assume siblings that are the same age were conceived via in vitro. (Ah-hem! I'm talking to you, intern doc, night mine were born, making your permanent medical records. By the way, our story is here. In case you are wondering. It's cool, we're not in Target right now.)

If you skip the natural question, (it's tough, kudos to you if you do) you might have the urge to say, "you have your hands full." Go ahead and say it, but she/he (maybe you meet a papa) might have heard that one. Maybe.

But what should you say?

Feel free to use any of these: (Although I cannot guarantee a positive reaction from the other end of the conversation. These are just slightly more inventive than your typical multiple family conversation.)

"Three babies. Wow. Here is some cash for diapers."

"(whistle) Let's hope not all of them get into college, huh? Hopefully at least one of them will join a rock band. Or invent something."

"Three chore people! Lucky!"

"Your carbon footprint must be huge."

"So, what's the transportation situation? You rockin the mini? Sportin' the suburb? Rollin' in a wagon?"

"Which one has super powers?"

"So, how many times do you have to do 'it' in a night to get more than one?" (Ahh! That's too much for a family blog. Sorry. I couldn't resist.)

"Triplets. Amazing. Have they started reading each other's minds yet?"

"So who is on Team Jacob and who is on Team Edward?"

"So, what is their sign?"

"Where are the reality cameras?" -Wait!! Stop!! Make no mention of any kind of reality show. Three kids the same age is not a big deal to these reality show people. They want to see 20 kids - minimum. And the mom you meet definitely in no way, shape or form wants to be compared to Kate Gosselin. For the love of Mike, whatever you do, make no reference to this woman when talking to a mom of multiples.

Well, that should do for now. And if for some reason you have said any of the don'ts already, don't sweat it. She is probably so scatter brained from changing 24-30 diapers a day and conducting 10-24 feedings (depending on age of said multiples and it's usually 18 at our house) that she won't remember it if you do.

Because, if she were really honest with herself, she loves when people ask about her children. She and her husband probably went through a lot or waited very long to get them here and is probably very proud of her wee ones that they are so healthy and that they fought through being very very tiny. She probably had about a million people praying for her family and has lots of help getting through her day. She probably thinks it is a miracle that they smile and make eye contact and do normal, healthy baby stuff in general. Even if you find out later that she has some blog where she writes things she doesn't want people to say to her, she loves to talk about her kids. Even if it's the same question over and over. I'm just guessing anyway.

See? I told you to have your salt handy.

A Few Things I Can't Believe

That I have babies. I didn't think I would have a baby. Let alone several. They are all so beautiful. Sometimes when I am holding one of them, I will walk by a mirror and gawk at the image in front of me. Me holding my own children. I can't believe they are mine, that I am holding them, and they will be mine forever. I can't believe they picked me to be their mommy. I can't believe I have three. Still, almost a year after that crazy '3-sack' ultrasound day.

The girl in this picture was thinking: really? I get all of you? Then she sent off her billionth prayer of gratitude.

I also can't believe I recently went with the green nail polish. I thought I was going for "hip" and "edgy." Or maybe I thought it was summery. But really, it looks like I have a funky nail fungus. Oh well.

Who Moved My Cheese?

If you are a regular reader of my blog, (I believe that would be two of you...) you know that this blog is about nothing really.  It has no theme, no consistent entries on the same topic.  Random.  So, if you will please indulge me on yet another random post about the inane thoughts that are rolling through my brain.

Here is my current head thread...

Brett?  What are you doing?  Seriously!!?!  When you came back last year, I thought, "Okay, that's fine.  So you want to give it one more shot.  I like the Jets.  That's okay.  I can still be your fan.  Even if you're not a Packer anymore.  I will still love your signature little jump when you connect with a receiver in the end zone.  Fine."

Then you retired.  Again.

And now?  2009 and you're playing for the Vikings?  The Minnesota Vikings?  Do you even remember your years with Green Bay?  Does the word 'rivalry' not compute in your vocabulary?  How about 'biggest rivalry' in football?  At least one of the biggest.  The cheese heads will tell you that anyway.  

You signed with the enemy.  It's not that I dislike the Vikings.  They're not my favorite...whatever, that's not the point!  I understand the need to be fulfilled and maybe you think you still have a few bombs in you, but COME ONE!  You already retired!  We sent you away with love and admiration... again! 

Sigh. 

 I don't know Favre.  You're making it really hard on a girl to be a fan.  The Vikings?  Remember when Schilling left Boston and went to the Yankees?  That was bad.  This might be worse.  My biggest fear is that you are going to be embarrassed by all the young hot shots out there.   So instead of going out on top, (like you did TWO years ago - let's face it, last year did not have your best shining moments...) your last few years might be riddled with interceptions and sacks and injuries and losses.  Wait, that already happened.  Actually, that happened at Green Bay.  Hmm.  Wait, are you trying to play for every team in the league?  Is this some sort of bet?  Is this a joke?  Are you cracking up every night that teams will still sign you?  Who will it be next year?  

Oh boy.  You know I'll still follow you.  You know I'll still keep up with how your team is doing.  I just might have a little less heartfelt cheers to give.  

We'll see.  Maybe you're trying to tell me that anything is possible.  

But seriously... THE VIKINGS?!  

A Few Things

I have been really enjoying lately...


Kings of Leon. Where have they been all my life? Revelry, Use Somebody, Be Somebody, more - all on repeat on my music player.

Wicked Soundtrack. My little sis went last week and I was pining to go again. No one mourns the wicked!

The Simple Faith of Mister Rogers. Great little book by Laura Hollingsworth. So many good people out there who have lived a good life. I like scanning certain sections of Dewy's decimal system for surprising finds. This was one of them. (Yes, I know my library reference is wrong.)

The Office reruns. I think Andy is my new favorite.

The brilliant, bounteous, green popping blossoms on all of the trees. So many trees! Where do I get all my oxygen from when I live in Utah? Seriously.

Ray Charles. Is it okay for an ultra-uber white girl born in Utah County to like soul/gospel as much as I do? In fact, do yourself a favor and download/listen/youtube yourself some Mavis Staples.

Sting's All This Time live album. Can't get enough. During Roxanne, when he states, "But she did anyway," in his Sting-like, cool, low-down way... man! That gets me every time.

The Grapes of Wrath. Lost track how many times I've read it. So far, being almost three decades old, (me, not the book) this is my all-time favorite book. Steinbeck does no wrong in my eyes. I'm trying to figure out why I'm such a sucker for suffering, heartache and down and outedness. (New word I just made up, don't try to look it up. Not in Webster's yet.) I'm open to new all-time favorites however. Currently, I have two. I have a lot of life left. I'm working on some great recommendations right now. Feel free to leave me yours.

We Are Fighting

Well, we were. Technology and I had it out yesterday. It was not pretty. Resolutions and dpi's and display settings and VGA or hdmi or whatever were tossed at me like I was supposed to know what to do with them. I followed instructions. I followed the manual. Desired results were nowhere to be found. In the height of my frustration, the very peak of the tempest, I decided to open a cable package. It was the kind of packaging that is ultra tough plastic. The kind of plastic you need a chain saw to get through. The kind of plastic that leaves little beads of sweat on your forehead and you attempt to get to what it is actually holding. In hind sight, I realized this was a bad idea. The poor, half-opened cable package is laying on the floor under the PC that I am not ready to make amends with yet. It wasn't set there either.

Remember when you wanted to display something for a large group of people and you just used a slide projector? Or how about a large flip chart? I know what's wrong if a flip chart isn't working. I'm pretty sure I could fix that.

I feel too young to yearn for the things of old as often as I do.



(Yes, I do know there is a certain irony to me complaining about technology on the world wide web or the "internet" as some people like to call it.)

Oh Cap'n My Cap'n

Earlier, I wrote a rather long rant about Captain Crunch, the cereal. (Although I think he prefers "Cap'n.") I wrote it, read it, and thought to myself, I'm an idiot! Who really cares what you have to say about cereal? Really? Sheesh. Purumph. Duh. And so on.

It had a "healthier than thou" type feel. And truthfully, moments before I wrote it, I had just polished off a bag of Sweet and Spicy Doritos. Kind of hypocritical. Ethically, I couldn't post it.

So here is my watered down version:

We have Cap'n Crunch in our house a lot. It's Chris' favorite cereal. When I eat it, it cuts the roof of my mouth and leaves a strange film in my mouth that I am not comfortable with. Also, Quaker Oats cereal is a little politically incorrect and border line insulting with it's "puzzles" on the back of the box.

Okay. Oh, and packaged and processed food is destroying our taste buds. The end.

I really should have saved all my words and just given ya'll this instead:

(word to yo cap'n)

Laughing Out Loud

Why? Why do I literally feel like having a good old chuckle?

I have more to do than time to do it. I have boxes to pack. Bathrooms to clean. Things to wrap up in bubble wrap. Mattresses to wrap up in mattress wrap. Laundry. Random items that are awaiting a decision of "throw away" or "keep." Lots of stuff to do. And yet, these words are proof that at this moment, I am not doing any of those things.

Isn't that hilarious to anyone else? Is it just me?

And speaking of laughing out loud, I think modern communication is ruining the English language. I'm going to be that nerd that fights it. YOU instead of u. ARE instead of r. GREAT instead of gr8. I wake up in a cold sweat sometimes because I think that punctuation might disappear all together because of texting. I wake up pawing at the sheets, "Where is that period? What that a question?!? I'll never know!!" and who capitalizes anymore? is not capitalizing trendy or are our pinky's becoming weaker? All languages evolve. I'm sure there was some 15th century nerd girl that said at one point,

"Me doth protest the increasing manor in which many acquaintances and fine people I know of upstanding reputations and caliber have been replacing the word "ye" with "yoo." It gives me the distinct impression that one is attempting to turn me into a sheep."

Also - in my scenario, I'd like to imagine this 'nerdy' girl was prohibited from learning how to read. You know, 'man smarter than woman,' 'woman make lye soap while smart man drink ale and barter,' mentality of way back then. She is secretly smart. Then one day her father's landlord discovers she can read and punishes her by placing her in the stocks and everyone throws lettuce at her. She takes the humiliation. Doesn't cower. Even when her own father is forced to throw a rotten tomato at his own daughter or else he and his family (six kids, wife died giving birth to the youngest) will be dismissed from their home by the mean landlord. She becomes emboldened and inspired and decides to teach other young girls how to read. "They cannot place every one of us in the stocks!" She becomes a mythical hero and is mentioned one day on 'Reading Rainbow.' YOU DON'T HAVE TO TAKE MY WORD FOR IT...


What in the world? What was that? What is wrong with me? I'm stepping away from the computer. Back to work. L8r.

This Economy

I'm telling you, the signs have turned up everywhere that things have been bad. It's completely old news by now, I know. But when it turns up in your licorice! Come on!

I enjoy a fresh pack of Twizzlers. Strawberry. I buy a fresh bag the other day, open it up put a piece in my mouth, and what?!?

They are smaller! The pieces are definitely smaller, way smaller! Like, now they are toothpicks flavored like strawberry licorice.

Not happy Hershey's. Not happy.

Sometimes

Free flowing thoughts that dance around in my head all day can come together on a blank page, blank screen, blank something. Spewing out sentences and structure and stanza.

Trying to make sense of the world I live in. The one that moves, ebbs, floats cascades all around me. Or the one that is rooted, stuck, cemented at my feet. Fingers become my tool. Striking keys or grasping the pen, pencil, whatever I can find.

So much paper out there, waiting to be scribbled on, jotted on...wasting time. Words come out! Creative expression and simple communique.

Vocabulary tested, not wanting to bore the reader with dull descriptions of the blue lake against the tall mountain - yawn.

The glassy lake beneath the watchful peaks? Yawn.

The serene water reflects the majestic heights. Yawn.

The lake begins to swallow the mountains. The shallow water looks hungry. Its glassy eyes have a perfect reflection of the stalwart, uncaring mountains. If it is concerned of how ravenous the lake is, it never lets on. Just stares straight ahead. Pretending not to notice the salivating ripples that form each time even the tiniest rock finds its way into the starving water below.

Eeh. Maybe.

From My Window

For a few weeks I've heard a slight knocking sound when I'm standing in my bathroom. Knocking, tapping, rapping. Rapping, that's it. rap, rap, rap, rap, rap, rap

A quick succession of this noise. The first time I heard it I moved in the direction of where the noise was coming from. A spot right by a window. I peered out the window but couldn't see anything. rap, rap, rap, rap, rap, rap, rap, rap

I knocked on the wall in a quick response. knock, knock, knock, knock Then a flash of brown flew past my eyesight and up over my roof. A woodpecker? I stepped out on the balcony to see if I could spy a nest or hole, but I didn't see anything.

A few days later a giant flock of little black birds swept past my windows in that same area causing me to turn in alarm. There were so many of them, they blocked out the light for a few moments. I didn't know what it could be. There must have been over a hundred. All flying and flitting in strange, swaying unison. It's been so cold, I wonder where all these little black birdies sleep at night.

Same window, different day I watch a truck spin it's wheels trying to get out of the marina parking lot. It's a big truck too. Big tires complete with the trendy studs all around them. The kind of truck that if you are under six feet tall you might need a step ladder to climb inside the cab. The kind of detail and tires that make you think the owner is very proud to be driving this truck around town. Possibly listening to his music very loudly. However, I wondered how he was feeling now. His giant truck spinning out on a small incline in an unplowed parking lot.

Sometimes from this window I look for my eagle. I spotted her one day on an afternoon jog. My neighborhood is a victim in the recent years national economic struggle. I was jogging down a lovely paved road complete with street signs, cul-de-sacs, and not even one lot with as much as a hole dug. Lots of pavement and absolutely zero houses. Perfect for running. As I huffed and puffed somewhere around mile 1.5, I spotted this enormous bird crusing the sky. I stopped because I had never seen a bird that size near the lake. Then I saw it had the beautiful white head and dark brown body. When it came to rest and perched high up on a bare branch, it was unmistakable what she was. A North American Bald Eagle. I just stared and was amazed this part of the state was part of it's habitat. I had no idea. I'm not the greatest nature observer because I always want to see more and get closer. So I inched forward. As soon as I took one step, she took off and continued her flight path along the edge of the lake. She flew right over my house. I watched her as long as my eyes would allow.

Since all the snow, and since there are no houses, thus no reason to, this perfect running road does not get plowed. I haven't been able to run on it in weeks. I have adapted to the more crowded, plowed streets with houses. There is a road that is parallel to my perfect deserted road, but not as close to the lake. There aren't as many tall trees either. I wouldn't come near it if I were an eagle. So for now, I glance out my window to try and catch one in the same flight path.

Still January. Still cold. Still snow. No eagles. Just the occasional woodpecker (I think), little black birds and ice fisherman getting stuck in the parking lot.

Winter, why are you so long?

It's Been a While

I have been busy. Family, Christmas, nephews, sisters, New Year's, company, nieces, a 5k, Office marathons, ballin' in the elementary school, lots of fun family stuff. Whew. I'm hoping to get more creative posts in with pics of the last two weeks. For now, here is an update on the makeover. This is the finished product of the fireplace. It was still warm and wonderful to sit by this Christmas.

Part II - I Couldn't Wait

After reading my last post, I realized some of those quotes were weird if you never heard them in context and just imagined me saying them. So, here is my explanation of where they come from and a possible example of when I might say them... (I know the reading audience is just dying to know.  My thoughts are so interesting.)

1. "Let's go somewhere...where we can be somebody."  

Dumb and Dumber (you'll see a lot from this classic gem)

The end part of this quote is what is said a lot between me and Chris.

2. "We have MONEY!"

Rocky III

This one was giving me anxiety after I read it.  No, we are not rich and I don't go around just saying this while rolling around in hundred dollar bills.  This is Adrienne's big moment in the Rocky series.  Go rent it and you'll see what I mean.  Our hero Rocky is doubting himself and this line is part of Adrienne's super pep talk. Then he beats Apollo Creed in a race on the beach.  This is fun to say whenever we visit the ATM (even for 20 dollars) or anytime it is any kind of pay day.  

Ok, so I'll do more later.  That was really the only one that I felt weird about.  I'm kind of already bored with what the rest of this post might look like.