tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71473556513800579742024-03-23T03:14:42.200-07:00Jams and JelliesBYU Blue and White- the colors of our current lifeScottyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705334611820960948noreply@blogger.comBlogger86125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7147355651380057974.post-7331138891229769872010-04-04T22:08:00.000-07:002010-04-04T23:03:54.966-07:00Hey-- What's up?Blog-- Hmmm...<br /><br />Not sure what to write...<br /><br />Not that my life and the life of my family is boring-- it is the exact opposite. We are busy and life is crazy and exciting. Unfortunately for the last few months it has been hard to take the time to articulate that in a blog post. It has been almost 7 months since the last post. Sorry for all two of you that actually read our blog.<br /><br />It is hard to believe that April 2010 is here. When I entered into BYU's MPA program two years ago 2010 seemed a long way off. I knew the time would move quickly. I was right about that I just did not anticipate how fast the time would <span style="font-style: italic;">actually</span> go.<br /><br />I am at now facing the end of the MPA program and graduation is just weeks away. The problem is I still have much to do before graduation. Unfortunately, I have a serious case of "I don't care anymore" syndrome. Okay, I do <span style="font-style: italic;">care</span>, but I am having a hard time convincing my self that I do. Does that make sense?<br /><br />I have a week and a half of classes left, a few major papers due this next week, final assignments and finals creeping up quickly. I care, but not enough. I need motivation. I need inspiration. I need to get to work. I had planned to get to work and get some use out of the weekend, but alas Fellowship of the Rings was on TBS tonight. I could not forgo that treat! So I indulged and procrastinated the inevitable for a few more hours. It is crazy. I AM crazy. <br /><br />I am sure I will wish for those few hours later this week. I know when my back is up against the deadline I am sure to be pushing in the next 72 to 96 hours I will regret the time wasted. But for now it somehow feels like a good trade off. Oh well.<br /><br />I guess that even this post is a cry for help. I'm not sure what help I am hoping for, or why exactly I need help, I just have a feeling that I do. Hmmm. It's kind of funny that I can ignore this once flourishing (ok a little exaggerated) blog for 7 months and now, tonight, have the sudden urge to update. <br /><br />Yes it must be a cry for help. Help me get motivated-- Help me log out and get to work-- Help me feel the urgency of my situation.<br /><br />Urgency, <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">YES URGENCY</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">!</span><br /><br /> IT IS urgent that I get to work... ... ... but for now I am just feeling tired. Maybe I'll go to bed and sleep on the urgency. <br /><br />Sounds like a plan. :)<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIK2-7nJTOBisE5hsVBBYjMIdpq7RQtXC2_tB5YDcTCp9uIq909uMB5hJaYXVPa2GYlG2BzdLBZrJXr8Hb5t4ECOH_Mm_a-01MNneGzHTkBBjBzHdrNJP8GbvIXb3ULfCWEX0akml_Yjw/s1600/Photo+65.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIK2-7nJTOBisE5hsVBBYjMIdpq7RQtXC2_tB5YDcTCp9uIq909uMB5hJaYXVPa2GYlG2BzdLBZrJXr8Hb5t4ECOH_Mm_a-01MNneGzHTkBBjBzHdrNJP8GbvIXb3ULfCWEX0akml_Yjw/s320/Photo+65.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456527028626696690" border="0" /></a>Scottyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705334611820960948noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7147355651380057974.post-1569030073948447372009-09-28T22:13:00.000-07:002009-09-29T01:03:12.203-07:00Happy Birthday!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGTCCMo-5GJSaYcYQ5c_ixTArtV1L19wroJADcrh9aAEvtuvpSC7L9lv4NGWvhhX6Nucgv6IIHOKyQqWKERcXMyMG5nZYgYkbzTY2wmHV9oBzu9DK-WUFKzAGM-SMVfF7fLBtxDKWMZyM/s1600-h/IMG_3514_2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 274px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGTCCMo-5GJSaYcYQ5c_ixTArtV1L19wroJADcrh9aAEvtuvpSC7L9lv4NGWvhhX6Nucgv6IIHOKyQqWKERcXMyMG5nZYgYkbzTY2wmHV9oBzu9DK-WUFKzAGM-SMVfF7fLBtxDKWMZyM/s320/IMG_3514_2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386791468118672146" border="0" /></a><br />Today was Nancy's Birthday! The main event of our family celebration was up Provo canyon!<br /><br /><br />We took up our little BBQ and cooked up some fun. My cousin Julie and her husband Allan and family joined us in the little celebration.<br /><br /><br />Julie made the cake-- and as it turns out the same kind of cake the Nancy's mom used to make for birthdays-- Strawberry sheet cake! It brings back memories. Thanks Julie!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjU34pDa0aLF_4ycDHEPTJjiY5A3Wz9aFw1yWDG6FDlMALP70gd__bOrs7oQ84jaKppRSWh5k2Hg1leCL02f7V1PqJdl5Xx5po-jgfgLKwyn2yzS7yrsSpFK09_gAYFeOAAO-lAz00B2s/s1600-h/IMG_3516.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjU34pDa0aLF_4ycDHEPTJjiY5A3Wz9aFw1yWDG6FDlMALP70gd__bOrs7oQ84jaKppRSWh5k2Hg1leCL02f7V1PqJdl5Xx5po-jgfgLKwyn2yzS7yrsSpFK09_gAYFeOAAO-lAz00B2s/s320/IMG_3516.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386760983049742386" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We went to a park above Vivian Park at the end of South Fork canyon. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We really had a lot of fun playing with the kids and eating. We also managed to take a few pictures.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioEeXS-1_kd31hQ-huEBdnAE_Nh9jTaPwrQxSnz8Or7kjHOiT4Xc6pO5tcoeSHvTcmM-2MgttjuNcSf55pm6Jik9Kwt_u20y11h3lxND7r0n3_JUjdYUdso2OOOz6PxplchOGHSlOz4o0/s1600-h/IMG_3488_2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 258px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioEeXS-1_kd31hQ-huEBdnAE_Nh9jTaPwrQxSnz8Or7kjHOiT4Xc6pO5tcoeSHvTcmM-2MgttjuNcSf55pm6Jik9Kwt_u20y11h3lxND7r0n3_JUjdYUdso2OOOz6PxplchOGHSlOz4o0/s320/IMG_3488_2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386760064822726738" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0KI_6-ymkVqYYgiYlYEwY7kwKTp3fsvQTmJvuQ6latK975iSTzecGpSeeDuCkVVkJT_uwNp5BxGdoXQifIoLXqRXXNKf_JHvERXZDqmi5sKdCTBzM-KMMuerD_q-G6FGD2l_Wke5hflU/s1600-h/IMG_3511.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0KI_6-ymkVqYYgiYlYEwY7kwKTp3fsvQTmJvuQ6latK975iSTzecGpSeeDuCkVVkJT_uwNp5BxGdoXQifIoLXqRXXNKf_JHvERXZDqmi5sKdCTBzM-KMMuerD_q-G6FGD2l_Wke5hflU/s320/IMG_3511.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386760519246375378" border="0" /></a><br />This is Julie and Allen and their family!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Of course this is our little family-- in the trees!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />If you do not know already, Nancy is pretty amazing! For those of you that may not know her personally I will elaborate a little in the form of a couple of things that I find amazing about my wife Nancy:<br /><br />Music-- Nancy is musically talented, she is a gifted pianist and an excellent accompanist. She is also an accomplished flautist. She Loves music, and equally important is passing that love on to our children. Currently Sarah plays the piano, and hopes to start the flute in the near future. Ben played the piano, but now is happily playing the Baritone! I am so thankful that our house is full of Music. <br /><br />Friendship-- Nancy is a friend! <span style="font-style: italic;">Not just a friend</span>-- she is a good friend. She quite naturally is a listener and loves to talk and listen to people. She is at ease in a group and loves a one-on-one conversation. She truly enjoys people and loves getting to know them. Most importantly-- She is MY best friend.<br /><br />Advice-- Nancy gives good advice. You might think this is a simple thing-- but there is a lot to it. Nancy values truth, honesty, wisdom, love, kindness, and gratitude, among other things, and I believe her advice as well as her life reflect these virtues. Nancy really thinks about things, she also ponders and prays about them, and is naturally spiritual. I value and appreciate the advise and council I receive from Nancy!<br /><br />Numbers-- This may sound a little funny-- But Nancy is amazing with numbers! She is our family accountant and she does a fantastic job! But even more amazing is her memory-- she is a walking phone book. She remembers phone numbers and can recall them almost instantly. Besides being amazing it is really quite convenient!<br /><br />Long-suffering-- This is a biggie! I have to admit that the last few years have at times been difficult. Especially making the decision to leave employment and return to school at the<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Tl-mXba81QZRZIRq6pHD_zT-S-RyrWkEeTA4BekSlF0A7zVBzlqV1kJ8jwYYNm5Y5QFTRPkHQF7ICGNdrfqd59kzXEiO_oxQyZP9LNswrVTAzpJnyDvK1Y9-D_kTqCgWLjX6Gld2chY/s1600-h/IMG_3517.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Tl-mXba81QZRZIRq6pHD_zT-S-RyrWkEeTA4BekSlF0A7zVBzlqV1kJ8jwYYNm5Y5QFTRPkHQF7ICGNdrfqd59kzXEiO_oxQyZP9LNswrVTAzpJnyDvK1Y9-D_kTqCgWLjX6Gld2chY/s320/IMG_3517.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386762604023286290" border="0" /></a> age and stage of our family. We both knew that the MPA program at BYU was the right thing to do. Even so it was still has not been easy. We picked up and left our home, friends, and associations of 12 plus years and moved to Provo. Nancy has been the greatest support to me and has done it willingly and with faith, knowing that in the end it would all work out. We still have faith that it will work out-- Nancy, thank you for your long-suffering and faith in me!<br /><br />Love-- This one may be my favorite. Nancy loves me-- even with all my faults. I think that is pretty amazing. I want her to know that I love her! I am so thankful for her and all that she means to me. I love the fact that we are married and have a little family. She is the foundation of our family and is committed to each one of us, and I believe that her underlying motivation truly is love. Nancy, I love you-- you have my heart, and all my love!<br /><br /><br />Happy, Happy Birthday Honey! Hope you had a wonderful day!<br /><br />Love,<br /><br />ScottScottyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705334611820960948noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7147355651380057974.post-32078776042700834822009-08-16T22:54:00.000-07:002009-08-17T00:38:27.959-07:00A New Configuration and last gasp of Summer vacationWhat?!? A New Configuration? Yes-- a new seating configuration. I am of course speaking about long distance car traveling again. We just returned from a trip to NorCal. We had a fun trip, but we did not get to see everyone or do all that we wanted. <span style="font-style: italic;">(If you-- dear reader-- live in the East Bay Area and by reading found out we were in the area and did not visit you-- I am </span><span style="font-style: italic;">terribly sorry, we just ran out of daylight to do it all. Not to worry-- we will be back to visit again...)</span><br /><br />I digress-- a new configuration-- I am speaking of surviving the 750 mile from Provo to Walnut Creek twice in one week. The last blog entry described what we learned from our last trip-- we did learn and this time split up the kids into 4 corners. It worked, Grace in the back with Ben, and Sarah and Emma in the second row. No major fights-- a few skirmishes but nothing serious enough to warrant acting on the threat of "DO YOU WANT ME TO PULL THIS CAR OVER RIGHT NOW!"<br /><br />We split the trip with an overnight stay in the metropolis of Winnemucca, NV. <span style="font-style: italic;">(By the way-- If you are ever there, the Holiday Inn Express has a killer complementary breakfast, for those who have been to Winnemucca, it is right across from the Mc Donalds play land and the flying J truck stop.)</span><br /><br />The stop makes the trip much more manageable, however, I do have to admit an overnight stay does make me feel a bit weak as a former drive straight <span style="font-style: italic;">through</span> kind of guy. I remind myself that I am not a college student anymore-- well I guess that is not quite true. I am a graduate student, I guess I am not as young as I used to be. Dang.<br /><br />The one tragedy of our trip is we took the camera, but alas we hardly took a picture. What has happened to us? This last trip is comparable to a 4th or 5th child later in life looking at family pictures and noticing the 10 pictures of their first year of life compared to 1,924 pictures taken in the first six months of their oldest siblings life. (<span style="font-style: italic;">All I can say to that real situation is don't worry baby of the family-- you may not have as many pictures of your childhood-- but you will get to go to Disneyland about 100 more times than the oldest kid in the family. I should know-- I am number 4 of 5!</span>)<br /><br />Anyway-- My message to our little trip to California-- "It is not that we did not love you-- it is just that we haven't been blogging or scrapping as much as we used to and-- well we were just too busy to take out our little camera and record memories...." Just like trying to explain to your 4th or 5th child about their pictures-- it makes perfect sense-- but still sounds kind of crappy when you say it out loud.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzPnkkh1r1FSP3eE0jyoEn6LqWjTIYRuNd3195sxl8CW6v4wua3YiE7FyH7_6omWjKIqCyXRo8Gfk9De36Hok68JhJmMecwArny20gKSpeDVlOS8VvTK4CuhzlQIiCXLnMXgw5Kl5IVEo/s1600-h/IMG_0420.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzPnkkh1r1FSP3eE0jyoEn6LqWjTIYRuNd3195sxl8CW6v4wua3YiE7FyH7_6omWjKIqCyXRo8Gfk9De36Hok68JhJmMecwArny20gKSpeDVlOS8VvTK4CuhzlQIiCXLnMXgw5Kl5IVEo/s320/IMG_0420.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370815769639483010" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Regardless of the dearth of photos, we did have a fun trip. While visiting Phoenix last month we saw Wicked-- we enjoyed it so much we decided to see it again in San Francisco. I took my iPhone and Nancy did snap this photo of me in front of the theater. It was a great show and we had excellent seats. I think we may have been spit on a couple of times-- yes it was that close and yes it was worth it.<br /><br />We visited with some good friends and they informed us they were getting rid of their "love sack" (a foam filled bean bag for those wondering what a love sack is--) our only problem was transporting it home. The roof was the solution. It worked out fine, but <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjopJNkaglTlQCVE7_3bS1HtK8H9JD3-CsfdSeQ5FF4MDLhzszm-mry_TKdOgidcY3BSLzVhkgeTYapcBYQw1pUKoKo2Cc93MRtbRqa4HBWIlu0TaFWD964ccLM2J-yU0XHUXijfz_Bg6M/s1600-h/IMG_0422.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjopJNkaglTlQCVE7_3bS1HtK8H9JD3-CsfdSeQ5FF4MDLhzszm-mry_TKdOgidcY3BSLzVhkgeTYapcBYQw1pUKoKo2Cc93MRtbRqa4HBWIlu0TaFWD964ccLM2J-yU0XHUXijfz_Bg6M/s320/IMG_0422.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370823261867111826" border="0" /></a>keeping the protective sheets tucked in as we sped through Nevada was a challenge. There may have even been moments when Nancy did not think it was worth the hassle of bringing it home... but it's now in our basement. All the kids have lounged in it as have I, and even Nancy has confessed to curling up and reading a book in the comfortable cocoon of our new love sack. Thank you Eric and Sally and family for sharing the Love!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKfdJQzTf7fS76Xn9LUAAOiATvJJiZq_-fQxkyV-f-P_5om11UIE8QkhsKeLSaGO7i2ovtAlqMk6SN32kae8HAtFZG6cGCJAoLd3ocHKIzNqp6XfOkddaTUnN9UjH-4czlZuP436uppmg/s1600-h/IMG_0424.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKfdJQzTf7fS76Xn9LUAAOiATvJJiZq_-fQxkyV-f-P_5om11UIE8QkhsKeLSaGO7i2ovtAlqMk6SN32kae8HAtFZG6cGCJAoLd3ocHKIzNqp6XfOkddaTUnN9UjH-4czlZuP436uppmg/s320/IMG_0424.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370828487655876354" border="0" /></a><br />This was the last gasp of Summer for our family. The kids start school this next week. I begin a week later along with Emma who will also be a BYU student-- at the BYU kindergarten on campus. We are all looking forward to a new school year, but still can not believe that summer passed so quickly. I hope your summer as been as eventful and fun as ours.Scottyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705334611820960948noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7147355651380057974.post-20496250945395476582009-07-17T01:09:00.000-07:002009-07-17T01:48:11.036-07:00In The Car for Hours!Lessons Learned:<br /><br />Don't give Dramamine to Grace-- It may keep her from tossing her cookies-- But it keeps her up (only a half hour of sleep out of 10 hrs of driving!) And also keeps her up a quarter of the night bouncing off walls! AAACK! <span style="font-style: italic;">My bad parent award comment is: "If medicine does not knock your kids out for at least a couple hours-- what good is it?" :) </span><br /><br />Fights in the car can be entertaining. Example: Emma and Sarah sitting together. Emma thinks it would be fun to start copying everything Sarah Says! Sound familiar? After quite a few copied phrases-- with Sarah's frustration level increasing along with Emma's elation-- the following was heard:<br /><br />Sarah: EMMA STOP COPYING ME!<br />Emma: Emma stop copying me!<br />Sarah: MOM-- MAKE HER STOP!!!<br />Emma: Mom-- Make me stop!<br /><br />We really had a laugh-- not sure if this one is a "<span style="font-style: italic;">had to be there</span>" moment-- but I did have tears running down my face. I never knew I could laugh that hard and keep the car under control. :)<br /><br />Next lesson<br /><br />Ben was sequestered in the equivalent of the tail gunner seat. All seats but his lonely single back seat were laid down and packed around him, including the cooler and food box. He was put in charge of the food, and passing it up to the others including pilot and co-pilot was his sworn duty. Unfortunately, the pilots generally had to yell food orders several times to get the message across and then wait for him to search everywhere for the item all the time convinced it was not there... At the end of the day he did a good job, but lesson learned-- put the food box with in reach of the co-pilot-- everyone will be happier.<br /><br />Another lesson learned-- Now I know why all the snow birds travel North for the Summer-- It is HOT in Arizona!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBTLI2O-Fu4xFmdCHzagtrjOf07gS5G8y6fD-ZPbapsVYSaGQl4kcPdsTeuAyxUtfzzRF89P86AVwoFcqB0_TIsGN5f8oToEfxkCpt21mM1KLjWmr0LySLt6gHt7oRiifT5p6ox8-U7pg/s1600-h/IMG_3370.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBTLI2O-Fu4xFmdCHzagtrjOf07gS5G8y6fD-ZPbapsVYSaGQl4kcPdsTeuAyxUtfzzRF89P86AVwoFcqB0_TIsGN5f8oToEfxkCpt21mM1KLjWmr0LySLt6gHt7oRiifT5p6ox8-U7pg/s320/IMG_3370.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359345743536757714" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Sorry I have no current photos of any events written about-- my photographer is on strike and this stock shot taken in May will have to do. Hey Nice hair Scott!</span>Scottyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705334611820960948noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7147355651380057974.post-34649689876453685582009-06-02T21:13:00.000-07:002009-06-02T21:38:37.565-07:00Provo River Trail<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK84TRo0hRkzB-xlXMXNxtC1XzDrhEThojhFidzQpcEVbbLg0jak4aKkg35Q2m7wc2KbbrBqz3e4VOCgG4SZbclKR0Crx1eAKNTxbnUS_96yXdTYyecpvEpQRsT61GSkIWw38AtiS0eBli/s1600-h/IMG_3367.jpg"></a>Scott has returned and so has the Fancy Nancy. Some claim that I'm not allowed to blog while the hubster is away. Really? Was I that depressing? I like to call it introspective. In the meantime, as things have been settling back into a routine, a lot has been happening around here. I won't go into all the boring details but I will highlight a super fun thing we did last Saturday--we rode our bikes up Provo Canyon. I felt so organic and earthy.<div><br /></div><div>With Emma on Scott's bike,</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLX-UxTyO4L0t9X5cKfGRdoLeuRE-aBCu_yLemKStQqNdiAuehgfU8LlRfbxdvQeBw0PUBkaVrtQq6Frbsda4RX4GwgeCSKxTCWr0e44ZLABdRrQXU6EXUi2uBGUXZ4Yz9hvuX68MreYf7/s400/IMG_3352.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342950719413063138" /></div><div>me with Grace in tow on the beach cruiser,</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivDhv33QXLypjwfLe-a_MwWmCHGPB8lVn99A8pF8Vop4frxq5oG8wNsPZmfVeelO7-_MDxdPHEBpO_szxDymGV20msho9YH-dMN7JEBg_J2EAWj3FWHjeGeg759MN93g5MlRoRNBNuf0wg/s400/IMG_3348.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342951389580338834" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span></div><div><br /></div><div>and Ben & Sarah each powering it up by themselves (oops no photo proof),</div><div><br /></div><div>we made it almost 5 miles (the number gets bigger every time I talk about it) from the mouth of the canyon to Vivian Park.</div><div><br /></div><div>Excepting the pit toilets, Vivian Park was a perfect resting point before returning back down the mountain. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi59oqF8vAlT7Ay6Hks4UomLa7LXYCCOxKW9rK9xWpoKvsje4wWiYcvIJMEirko2H3fU8Qhk94HXJGjIPFJ19goGQk7C_bT_BFWv1saYTEZFbqfNbcOwxWhyphenhyphenmLK_u0Hbu33EkeZnhLK9Io7/s400/IMG_3334.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342952431202874066" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span></div><div>Ben with a gorgeous backdrop. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUnB2RtRCT3HcD4SL3kL3hHsKoOsjoNau7gsfDIZgWHUdiSH9N5F2fXQyFo6sC7FSzuHDu9NahcVqLMQ90ErN6aHzrNsO2PfPO3vc3vpguTReZX_Mn_Qli5KbqraoZ84KaeoFJ-Ln4pS1j/s400/IMG_3344.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342952420440587666" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span></div><div><br /></div><div>Grace doing what she does best, finding trouble. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzuCB_nZ5JsjvwzYpSXcp7f0e7j4eRzq4JaFoalgPQNDEMPPi9Tg9-R3Xe5-nuxuR6EX8M0mSt-0yDlSwe1nKErZqrZ2NSF4SU_k3sMs9fgetRkMDlv0n7dhPfHXhmv6o5IxBWKQAmbCl2/s400/IMG_3345.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342952437047635842" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;">We stopped at Bridal Veil Falls on the way back to play in some super frigid water. Scott's new job as an intern for the city of Sandy's Public Utilities department has brought him a new found understanding of where this beautiful run off goes. He wasn't pleased when he saw dogs playing it. Our incredibly clean humans are okay to play in it.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU8ECeOw8kE29OA-YryT-qE5CmjsuH77O7q3eqCYhcTuVyXqN-SUA2e05_LRivE2k_1qU195JmER5XRgKkFEQ-C_lw2xmUOLIah6XE_vH2p4GPhYNKAAk_diuTY4728oxtSskgCQQACTg1/s400/IMG_3354.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342953758685331826" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiERP-ENUCbvlXHb7cAgJ8bNjovGBw6YUiHHMJEyxSXjY4tx8x5qIVw-8GN0JHWmtkqlIy759361RhlY5B26OyeagqS3aK-M1RAjB-C4tKScPAhS7UBNL1sboZJsYjaG3gJ2HNE1BfsVbys/s400/IMG_3363.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342953762873759058" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8BzfmgA7aXZXv1Rnkk7xwa4KYLbkyc8dyhiUD-Dyr90XPAUgl7UPSlylo-iKEuoUAOgAgm0ViEPljp7IMViaNFBf2-g5VuqSq6o7BCortdaI4PfldmdIpbnpCOe4tnow0GOl2LDQf5_oS/s400/IMG_3356.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342953754656178162" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK84TRo0hRkzB-xlXMXNxtC1XzDrhEThojhFidzQpcEVbbLg0jak4aKkg35Q2m7wc2KbbrBqz3e4VOCgG4SZbclKR0Crx1eAKNTxbnUS_96yXdTYyecpvEpQRsT61GSkIWw38AtiS0eBli/s400/IMG_3367.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342954304005981538" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;">If you come to visit us, likely you will be offered the chance to join us on this awesome excursion. Just be ready.</div>Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17952750484470725111noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7147355651380057974.post-47815555647887951292009-05-12T09:58:00.000-07:002009-05-12T11:15:54.661-07:00Cracking the CaseA subject has been ruminating in my head for a couple of days now. Since Mother's Day in fact. I had thought I would just keep my turmoil and thoughts to myself until today, I happened upon somebody's Facebook status admitting that she has mixed emotions about Mother's Day. A big shout out to Hilary for liberating me and all those jumbled up thoughts in my head! That's exactly it. I have mixed emotions about Mother's Day.<br /><br />I'm a good old sport and think it's a cute and well-intentioned holiday and definitely a time to appreciate the mothers in our lives. I don't want to downplay that at all. Moms are a big deal. And let's face it, they are severely underappreciated.<br /><br />My mixed emotions include the expectations surrounding the day. At the risk of sounding like a martyr, my Mother's Day was all about being a mother and doing all the work that goes along with it. I didn't get a break. I didn't get to call my mom or spend the day with her.<br /><br />Here's what I did get:<br /><ol><li>A sweet little breakfast made by Sarah. Minutes later, the group demanded I return the favor by giving them breakfast.</li><li>The chance to touch each child at the same time during Sacrament Meeting. With two on my lap, including almost 11-year old Ben on the left knee, Grace on the right knee, Emma hooking elbows while scratching my elbow on the left side and Sarah with her head leaning on my right shoulder.<br /></li><li>The Christ-like service of the family in front of us at church who split up their group to help occupy my little peeps who were not feeling inspired to behave on Mother's Day.</li><li>The chance to sing a beautiful arrangement of Love One Another with the ward choir. It was so touching, especially during the practice that I was afraid everyone was going to notice that I was near bawling. That would have been embarassing. I just couldn't look at the sweet little lady in the front row with Alzheimer's because it just brought back way too many memories.</li><li>Heard a great lesson in Relief Society about persecution whilst Grace was happily in nursery.<br /></li><li>An instant message conversation with Scott. His texted wishes were heartfelt.</li><li>A great nap. It was heaven and gave me all the energy to get through the rest of the day.</li><li>A Sunday stroll with everyone risking being looked down upon by the occasional person for doing such scandalous things on the Sabbath. GASP! I even let the kids ride their bikes. </li><li>An opportunity to apologize when I got totally frustrated with one of the kids.</li><li>Got a headstart on that blasted 4th grade county report.</li></ol>The thing is, I didn't expect anything different. It was all good. Do mothers really feel that much better on Mother's Day? Is that all we need? I'm not going to buy that bill of goods. Mother's Day for many can be a day of sadness. It can be about loss, unfulfilled desires, feeling inadequate, disappointment... My good thoughts and wishes go to those who don't talk about that side of it.<br /><br />Now for some feel good stuff....<br /><br />Here's Sarah, my personal chef with her gourmet meal. She can cook eggs like nobody's business. Even does only egg whites for her big bro. I asked her, "how did you know how to separate them?" She answered, "I just watched you." The cleverest child. Watching her mother on any cooking task is risky.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIK_oaiUY1XDl4FZ6_vq0KZ6zLK1N_2es6vBhQllZlYTkddxeHAwdSc25k_5_eEGakTw5mSCyqBJqN44wqfdODKAquwJk6Xex0_Eo0UX0ckBAKFrakFyPZCKoXXjKzGwar8UY7iRL9Xg4r/s1600-h/IMG_3247.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIK_oaiUY1XDl4FZ6_vq0KZ6zLK1N_2es6vBhQllZlYTkddxeHAwdSc25k_5_eEGakTw5mSCyqBJqN44wqfdODKAquwJk6Xex0_Eo0UX0ckBAKFrakFyPZCKoXXjKzGwar8UY7iRL9Xg4r/s400/IMG_3247.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334999464977019794" border="0" /></a>The newest Mama horse we know. Cousin Amy's half arabian / half shire horse had a baby a couple of weeks ago. Grace was not afraid of feeding this big girl.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEharU8uH6eEvEnKEdQGr7LJs_g8rYSL8SUEDzjrQlyBDPDr_yafKI9ZsJHIzKk8QVeeKSeOc5geQSuZ7F7P7r7JQwf8D1z_p5ipHQB_8VcCVu5jMLPeoT9ym6Z0PYvVxxER7Lr-xqNqpJ9k/s1600-h/IMG_3263.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEharU8uH6eEvEnKEdQGr7LJs_g8rYSL8SUEDzjrQlyBDPDr_yafKI9ZsJHIzKk8QVeeKSeOc5geQSuZ7F7P7r7JQwf8D1z_p5ipHQB_8VcCVu5jMLPeoT9ym6Z0PYvVxxER7Lr-xqNqpJ9k/s400/IMG_3263.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335000840934030642" border="0" /></a>Happy Mother's Day to Peggy, the horse. With all that grass my kids were feeding her, she should be back to her pre-pregnancy weight in no time.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRfQim_YdLzaUAX6D8PNmvceVNi2ZqRGcsCYbRxb3uq29Rjsnt2B4OARnXlzMNtgT2zNSb6qqT3jBWpiPF6tbgYtRvmS4d36ijmMmYm0oU18QpKDIVPbuHzlkJduLNL70l-9eHCIb94_lY/s1600-h/IMG_3265.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRfQim_YdLzaUAX6D8PNmvceVNi2ZqRGcsCYbRxb3uq29Rjsnt2B4OARnXlzMNtgT2zNSb6qqT3jBWpiPF6tbgYtRvmS4d36ijmMmYm0oU18QpKDIVPbuHzlkJduLNL70l-9eHCIb94_lY/s400/IMG_3265.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335001388153227986" border="0" /></a><br />And of course, the bouncing baby boy whose name is coincidentally, Ben.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4zGaeWBoyyjKl7p673oJ-P-BNIxQWB-FkKx4ejmfAHYrEOmehjjBeEaQz2Nu0mqNEabmwL9JKtVlWqXtMTN-v4nWJQuJWXw7ebsc0TS8ZkbBCUwNQYVzQlFsB3ZHG1aWwHVbBgKvqOsFd/s1600-h/IMG_3260.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4zGaeWBoyyjKl7p673oJ-P-BNIxQWB-FkKx4ejmfAHYrEOmehjjBeEaQz2Nu0mqNEabmwL9JKtVlWqXtMTN-v4nWJQuJWXw7ebsc0TS8ZkbBCUwNQYVzQlFsB3ZHG1aWwHVbBgKvqOsFd/s400/IMG_3260.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335002002485651058" border="0" /></a>Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17952750484470725111noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7147355651380057974.post-58760175043640363952009-05-08T14:58:00.000-07:002009-05-08T15:50:01.752-07:00Don't Fence Me InAs is obvious, I haven't written a blog entry in forever. I can't totally explain why except for maybe my paralysis from censorship. It's a plague on Facebook, too. I have to be so careful what I write that it stunts my creativity. My sarcastic side can get me into a bit of trouble. I am even on a blog commenting diet because I felt like I was getting into trouble all the time. Only people who really know me, get me. Since Jams & Jellies has always really been Scott's baby, I may just hand over the reigns to him forever. Who knows, maybe I'll start another blog of my very own and truly not care what anyone thinks. It would be for the not-so-faint of heart because let's face it, I feel things pretty deeply and sometimes that's just not so pretty. We'll see.<br /><br />Oh wait, getting too philosophical, this is the feel good blog still. Okay. Here are some random happenings from the last bit. (I'm on Scott's Macbook--isn't he nice to share with me while he is parading around Ghana? Let me see if I can figure out how to upload a photo...)<br /><br />Sarah had a birthday. Here she is with the cutest birthday cake I've ever seen made by her Aunt Susie and cousin Anna, cake bakers/decorators extraordinaire! This is beginning to be a Utah tradition I can stand by! (This fab duo made Grace's 1st birthday cake. Here's to hoping they are available for our two birthdays coming up the end of May.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUvndyj_-U1RYD0Oe_sEVtD2_-3x2JcyBUWPWInd5EFjQlZ4GhmYHayFLdGmIQePJNw3-Qm0PD4kUDgrgI84bKpD6qjp-8OjnTM48-IFk3i9eLOHN_DO0tFx14sofigwamJ-jYS8aP3qh3/s1600-h/IMG_3010.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUvndyj_-U1RYD0Oe_sEVtD2_-3x2JcyBUWPWInd5EFjQlZ4GhmYHayFLdGmIQePJNw3-Qm0PD4kUDgrgI84bKpD6qjp-8OjnTM48-IFk3i9eLOHN_DO0tFx14sofigwamJ-jYS8aP3qh3/s400/IMG_3010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333580574814555266" border="0" /></a><br />And Sarah was baptized.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW8DKT2E2kcE0tmss62Ohb25REjNYvXSqQG0ECDuQeYmsJg1fLnFjAxrevWCMGHS3uO9bnrBcheo3g1-e2YlcP6k2Tt3uUjjUyXdVOtzm9VX8TcKGKHKsRYv-qu94Qh12Js85A3OWZBeFp/s1600-h/IMG_3045.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW8DKT2E2kcE0tmss62Ohb25REjNYvXSqQG0ECDuQeYmsJg1fLnFjAxrevWCMGHS3uO9bnrBcheo3g1-e2YlcP6k2Tt3uUjjUyXdVOtzm9VX8TcKGKHKsRYv-qu94Qh12Js85A3OWZBeFp/s400/IMG_3045.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333581732081432306" border="0" /></a><br />I must pause and share a quick story about Sarah. Last week, she gave a talk in primary and the subject happened to be baptism (how timely). I, as usual, wrote the talk but she didn't have a chance to go through it before her time to give it. She 'sightread' it as we say in the music world. I thought it would be nice if she quoted a verse of a baptism-themed primary song. So, on Sarah's paper it said, "In closing, I would like to quote a verse from the song, 'I Want to be Baptized.'" She looked up at me, had a strange look on her face and then SANG the verse! She didn't know what the word "quote" meant. The brave little soul broke out into an acapella rendition of the song to be obedient to what I wrote. It was just about the sweetest thing I've ever seen. I felt a little bad about the communication breakdown but it all worked out fine.<br /><br />Grace has been up to her usual antics.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmZpS7Rxm2rL4vNKScdVAbLTDy0990v9y8welBzfTOIy4Z1-AAEeT5UVUWHNLFw2QNZwccirTnvASpEWk4HwkpgkHvBvJz5fUh0mB4ZnWeIZg3LWgHteIEwjlPvjcTLes3pl6Gj2Y9ct7d/s1600-h/IMG_3235.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmZpS7Rxm2rL4vNKScdVAbLTDy0990v9y8welBzfTOIy4Z1-AAEeT5UVUWHNLFw2QNZwccirTnvASpEWk4HwkpgkHvBvJz5fUh0mB4ZnWeIZg3LWgHteIEwjlPvjcTLes3pl6Gj2Y9ct7d/s400/IMG_3235.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333583473374672578" border="0" /></a><br />Let's give credit where credit is due. She had a cohort in crime.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQdxNcVkJMDwfNitBVEPbwy6Gn6-ssMsOUJtopZOHdkGY4GbOoyhPIuhkKXOzxLLawToZ74TAKf1AJ535OnKMCosl8b2Ic61-xydMK4odLLCs9VVQEziPyNTts1Hr3bVvtk3zw3UN7K-PT/s1600-h/IMG_3237.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQdxNcVkJMDwfNitBVEPbwy6Gn6-ssMsOUJtopZOHdkGY4GbOoyhPIuhkKXOzxLLawToZ74TAKf1AJ535OnKMCosl8b2Ic61-xydMK4odLLCs9VVQEziPyNTts1Hr3bVvtk3zw3UN7K-PT/s400/IMG_3237.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333583813398684610" border="0" /></a><br />And it's been Pinewood Derby time around here.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7HAs5XQb6YOE3YBYRpoXSUXWfAIHuNr2AKzo9i-HivaLeo65aNrb8rRlfwqqEAT9odWE5WV5OjWBRH2n9xlUlEfpSHrXFEDh4rjpBbhPvgUPMkTaADc99mx_ueNUtSEIgwDD8DFIJH_mt/s1600-h/IMG_3222.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7HAs5XQb6YOE3YBYRpoXSUXWfAIHuNr2AKzo9i-HivaLeo65aNrb8rRlfwqqEAT9odWE5WV5OjWBRH2n9xlUlEfpSHrXFEDh4rjpBbhPvgUPMkTaADc99mx_ueNUtSEIgwDD8DFIJH_mt/s400/IMG_3222.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333584126468982434" border="0" /></a><br />I was a solo parent on this one and as a bit of background, I don't do well with this event when both parents are around. I was a little stressed but it had a happy ending.<br /><br />I've been playing with a new camera lens. Just a little indulgence in trying to survive while Scott's away.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVvsvBtBtpzS0gKHnNl15J6iB3qj1hg3dTxGXC6hTuDv5WcuEAnAGUCPxN2C8xr_HqOBcbpF9J9BB_f5j77DUOcWYvzSiRybLRZ6aLwEOBSPHI9BtNflBs1ynCmWaXep5tGxmDJrfHgHZQ/s1600-h/IMG_3244.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVvsvBtBtpzS0gKHnNl15J6iB3qj1hg3dTxGXC6hTuDv5WcuEAnAGUCPxN2C8xr_HqOBcbpF9J9BB_f5j77DUOcWYvzSiRybLRZ6aLwEOBSPHI9BtNflBs1ynCmWaXep5tGxmDJrfHgHZQ/s400/IMG_3244.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333585383873899618" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjszydb28nxwkNrM0jsRtb2fcZBLij2f-wZVBvomzuGFpY4SfqOX9yn28diP53wHAXkTNCyXgBkLnXwBDibYBkoZ14efJ3CYwvkeJZArItfZZAxqXq2uGsUUgPgU6kYgWF7DOH5rcXQ-k8j/s1600-h/IMG_3242.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjszydb28nxwkNrM0jsRtb2fcZBLij2f-wZVBvomzuGFpY4SfqOX9yn28diP53wHAXkTNCyXgBkLnXwBDibYBkoZ14efJ3CYwvkeJZArItfZZAxqXq2uGsUUgPgU6kYgWF7DOH5rcXQ-k8j/s400/IMG_3242.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333586637302488722" border="0" /></a><br />And a little action shot: Grace saying her new word "go?". She says this whenever I ask her where something is. It makes me chuckle every time she does it.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmbAVk2hbPUox5ANc4_tEzAk9TcGqOloSSUD62gYPvFupgOCDtNRnD2i-OirAIMmqTL1m09mXdrC01W5Mw7g2yImrh0ivPxDZCXVfVkqGJdOGdVDezXrBLnT1IyJcv9jz-iWHM5XaBb79F/s1600-h/IMG_3245.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmbAVk2hbPUox5ANc4_tEzAk9TcGqOloSSUD62gYPvFupgOCDtNRnD2i-OirAIMmqTL1m09mXdrC01W5Mw7g2yImrh0ivPxDZCXVfVkqGJdOGdVDezXrBLnT1IyJcv9jz-iWHM5XaBb79F/s400/IMG_3245.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333587031037528354" border="0" /></a><br />That's it in a nutshell. The only big project looming before Scott's return is my 4th grade county report. Wait, did I say "MY"? Oh excuse me...that would be BEN'S county report. Of course, he will be doing every last word of it. Now, if I could just find my coloring crayons...Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17952750484470725111noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7147355651380057974.post-64378366422200522602009-04-27T03:31:00.001-07:002009-04-27T03:34:08.707-07:00News from AfricaHello all-- sorry no pictures yet-- they may not come for a few weeks. I am posting from Accra, Ghana. I will be here for three weeks working on a couple of projects with a group from the BYU MPA program. I will write more later-- I have just arrived and need to sleep.Scottyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705334611820960948noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7147355651380057974.post-71173669778133799022009-03-10T11:07:00.001-07:002009-03-10T11:09:51.251-07:00How to become more domestic....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgISnEaY7rQg0LBRhtCtZqNrGWFO72pxD710NQrO7B6ygD2YyI5xvWa8tF5NkCXJ7VsguA7LXvf-mtmJRlnIBAkPz-RIhRZAqeuCcdtYLmTpMwIBrWYrtWsW1EAzMR0D63QJ40R71Rk8wKV/s1600-h/IMG_3018c.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311622455738654898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgISnEaY7rQg0LBRhtCtZqNrGWFO72pxD710NQrO7B6ygD2YyI5xvWa8tF5NkCXJ7VsguA7LXvf-mtmJRlnIBAkPz-RIhRZAqeuCcdtYLmTpMwIBrWYrtWsW1EAzMR0D63QJ40R71Rk8wKV/s400/IMG_3018c.jpg" border="0" /></a> ...have this view from the kitchen sink. It doesn't matter if it's covered in snow, green or brown. The mountains in their majesty talk to me and whisper sweet nothings to me everyday.<br /><div></div>Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17952750484470725111noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7147355651380057974.post-75557541176268239582009-02-22T10:57:00.000-08:002009-02-22T11:49:13.561-08:00Scratching<div>As a Californian, I was inundated with the "whole foods" craze. Now that I'm connecting with my pioneer roots here in Utah, I find myself doing some real life whole food cooking. The results aren't always what I thought they'd be but I feel good for trying. In addition, I've been attempting to recreate some of our favorite things at home from scratch to be more provident shall we say. Let's just call this process "scratching".</div><div></div><br /><div>Here are some of my scratching projects...</div><ul><br /><li>I never buy any premade cookie at the store. Using only whole chocolate chips, and a whole lot of sugar and flour, I make plenty of cookies from scratch.</li><br /><li>In lieu of premade chocolate milk, we had been using carnation instant breakfast chocolate packets mixed with milk. To bring it down even more, we started buying cans of hot chocolate mix. Then, I found a recipe to make our own hot chocolate mix using cocoa, creamer, powdered milk and powdered sugar so I sent Scott to retrieve me a can of our never used powdered milk from our food storage supply and whipped us up a batch. The jury is still out on whether this is passing muster with the kids. I gave some to Emma this morning who exclaimed, "this tastes we-od".</li><br /><li>The Creamery on 9th Street makes the yummiest hamburgers. Scott was the cleverest one day and watched how they make them. I got him on the job of making some at home. Using an ice cream scooper, put a scoop of raw and unspiced hamburger on the stove. Cook it for a minute, squash it down with a spatula and salt and pepper. After it's fully cooked, serve on a homemade roll. I used a Rhodes roll from my freezer that I had let raise for the prescribed time and baked. It was perfect!</li><br /><li>Scott and I have never bought premade maple syrup. We only use mapleine with lots of whole sugar. I don't use Bisquick either. I have the best recipe for waffles and pancakes.</li><br /><li>Our microwave still is outside because of the popcorn incident which stunk it up big time so everything gets heated on the stove or in the oven these days. It's very wholesome not having any of those micro-waves breaking down plastic or giving us cancer. This may change when it gets warmer outside. I use a lot of whole dishwashing soap to clean all of the extra dishes this requires.</li><br /><li>Speaking of popcorn, we only pop popcorn on the stove now using whole popcorn kernels and whole melted butter on top. </li><br /><li>Scott uses only organic grapes homegrown on the vines from our yard (and a whole bunch of sugar) to make jelly. No pesticides people.</li><br /><li>Sundays are Cinnamon Roll Sundays around here. I usually buy frozen Rhodes cinnamon rolls from Costco but I decided to give it a try myself. This weekend was my third try at the matter. I'm glad to report that the third time is indeed a charm. Thanks to my cousin with a really good (& easy) recipe along with some excellent tips, it finally worked!</li><br /><li>People, hold onto your hats here but I will confess that I have made my own laundry detergent. I'm obsessed with the Duggar family (the ones with 18 children and now a daughter-in-law...yes I keep track and secretly wish I could live with them or have that many children) and in their book recently released (which I highly recommend), they shared their recipe for homemade laundry detergent. We are still studying whether or not this is an acceptable 'scratching' event for us. The cost savings is so huge I'm very hopeful but I want to be sure that the Jacobs family doesn't smell before I can fully recommend the experience to others. I made the mistake of confessing this to a couple of my California friends--the first laughed so hard she couldn't speak and the second said she needed to get me out of here if I'm going to start doing stuff like that.</li><br /><li>When we have a true hankering for ice cream, we have homemade it using whole cream, whole milk and pouring melted chocolate chips at the end to make chocolate crackle. It's very wholesome.</li></ul><p>Just in case my Weight Watcher friend reads this, please note that just because I make it doesn't mean I always eat it. I do feel it's a major bummer that when eliminating processed foods, I may be healthier but I'm not necessarily skinnier. I still have to eat in moderation. What a jip! </p><p>Recently, Scott needed a new picture in order to renew his passport. Remember the days you had to go get your picture taken at like Kinko's or someplace? Not anymore! I took this picture of Scott from scratch. </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305709318328060674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjet2LdjiKrG-uw-rndqevOEmlYeOyNVgNBxkmwXAHfYxqkN-frIiz_ZlICHXnvQpHc2WjHnTAsd8Qjp_qIalf4QWGV8tP3LwPoKavWg_i0bOBv1TKVAl-JsOUhMDAuKxi58-6qJykP_DYF/s400/IMG_2956a.jpg" border="0" /></p><br /><p>I'm always up for new "scratching" ideas of anyone wants to share them with me!</p>Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17952750484470725111noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7147355651380057974.post-567897455830634012009-02-20T07:37:00.000-08:002009-02-20T09:12:16.379-08:00Katie Scissorhands<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2uDWfNBiFBEQFaXyiNMc5OFMeNwxkYz4ZLnAHfUxJpU6lqZZVal1_BD1YSlXY_hPTSfKvQVYBWTy2_EO_90xbnjc3zuuuzDkBRxeVLa62F_DBuQq8vsMuKiwOWIS1t7OQhS-cWKKddD5l/s1600-h/katielittlegirl.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304907907284994194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 318px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2uDWfNBiFBEQFaXyiNMc5OFMeNwxkYz4ZLnAHfUxJpU6lqZZVal1_BD1YSlXY_hPTSfKvQVYBWTy2_EO_90xbnjc3zuuuzDkBRxeVLa62F_DBuQq8vsMuKiwOWIS1t7OQhS-cWKKddD5l/s400/katielittlegirl.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>One of the upsides of being the youngest of such a widespread of ages in my family is that I have the coolest nieces that are closer to my age than my siblings that birthed them. Nothing was cooler than being 10 years old when I became an aunt. These cute girls were the little sisters I always hoped and dreamed for. Now, many years later, it is even more fun to have nieces (and nephews too but there aren't so many of those in the Curtis family) who are awesome, interesting, and smart adults and are truly my friends and teach me so much. How lucky am I?<br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304907736571278610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 282px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwPWZSu4FDNvzn2TbdyFhqeh-yRixgdYg_V-XGjIZ_XumOadgQ9wd4C1DgRBm2X-Rh1du9epK2f1KESp5_6idV5Xfnc7iS0U5YIBZ73yNazzWuGCcZu6-VACwJCd67wxBW3Uf8ZAtFXlj2/s400/richcowboy.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div>Katie is the oldest child of my big bro Rich. As my oldest brother, Rich is 16 years older than I and oh how I love this guy. He does stuff like sing Happy Birthday to me in Vern-like style on my voicemail. He and I probably look the most alike with our matching chins although not so much anymore because he is getting skinny. I talk to him regularly. He didn't get the least bit rattled when he called recently and caught me in a mini-breakdown and I couldn't help but bawl on the phone when I heard his voice. He has a wife and four girls, he knows what to do with a few tears. Okay, but this isn't about Rich, this is about Katie. Here is a more current picture of her with Papa. Papa was never happier than eating a greasy treat at a fair of some kind. Mixing in a grandchild to the adventure would only make it more pleasurable to him. He adored his grandchildren.</div><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304908506753612530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 278px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxyYLId938673qk25Hifu_zw0sHhQovy9PfBFgCRlNHs3KSfoA_eJIxGpX6Tp9voykqcyjxwL6V8kDUyF1xehsCUfNtz9x3RBVe3TQi3Dhp9b2kVMa8c-QpQ9N6okn0d2KzXfcQR_BuL9p/s400/katieandpapa.jpg" border="0" />Oh, right, right...this is about Katie. Here are a few fun things about her:<br /><br /><ul><li>Katie can scrapbook like nobody's business. She runs circles around me and is my sounding board for all scrapping projects. She is so creative, organized and so caught up that she does albums for other people. I'm glad she will still speak to me even though I've gone mostly digital. She is a truist and must touch the paper still. </li><li>One time I e-mailed a recipe to Katie per her request and by accident I made a typo on the oven temperature. It took her HOURS to bake the cheesecake bars. Oooh, I felt bad! </li><li>She is the adopted mother to my parent's dog, Toby. He is crazy and she deserves an award for taking him on. This is the same dog who under my watch nearly drowned in my parent's pool. She dresses him up for the holidays and everything. </li><li>Not only do Katie and I talk about and analyze books we read, we are really good at talking about blogs and blogwriting as we all know it's just another kind of reading material. </li><li>Katie is a school teacher along with five of my other nieces. I would pay a million dollars if any of our kids could have one of them for a teacher. Teaching just runs in their veins. </li><li>Katie has a great sense of humor. She has put up with many of our family dinners which can resemble attending a circus. I remember laughing so hard once with her that we could hardly catch our breath. I wish I knew what was so funny that time.</li><li>Nobody can pinch a penny like Katie can. I've never seen such restraint. She can seriously go into a store and if it's not exactly what she is looking for at the price she will pay, forget about it!</li><li>Katie is so smart plus she is nice enough to not use very many big words that I can't understand. That would make me feel bad. She is so considerate that way.</li><li>I love that Katie (along with my other nieces as well) is very talented musically. I love that Granny has left a little bit of her talent and love for music with each of them. </li></ul>This is not an all-inclusive list but suffice it to say that I think Katie is pretty darn cool. This has been so much fun for me, maybe I'll make this an ongoing series...I could write volumes on my appreciation and love for all of my nieces (and nephews too, of course.).Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17952750484470725111noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7147355651380057974.post-54218647944335809892009-02-06T10:24:00.000-08:002009-02-06T11:01:10.643-08:00Go, Dog. Go!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeRDh4EWrw-5fQsbBFdMcA-4YK1I5W9S3vSIqjUSIkaTnnF9hy0VzzuxzvLaSgn5vsvR9LyOobS_4Tjh4xGcnYcSPTPVVuBfy__orLkn76V6UJkkb1lkH3KZuXMi_rlug5zN06TbMVxf0/s1600-h/go_dog_go_c.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeRDh4EWrw-5fQsbBFdMcA-4YK1I5W9S3vSIqjUSIkaTnnF9hy0VzzuxzvLaSgn5vsvR9LyOobS_4Tjh4xGcnYcSPTPVVuBfy__orLkn76V6UJkkb1lkH3KZuXMi_rlug5zN06TbMVxf0/s320/go_dog_go_c.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299754227051833602" border="0" /></a><br />Many of you (particularly with kids) have heard of the children's book titled Go, Dog. Go! by P. D. Eastman and may have even read it. It is a quick read--<br /><br />Regardless <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">BYU's</span> theater department presented an adaptation of the book on stage. I took the three older kids and had a fun time. The program consisted of simple sets and six actors. They played Red Dog, Blue Dog, Green Dog, Yellow Dog, Hattie/Spotted Dog, and MC Dog. There was a lot of running, singing, dancing and howling in harmony. The dogs were working, driving, running, eating, sleeping, and of course singing. We had lots of fun-- the kids and dad loved it and had a good time out on the town (if the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">HFAC</span> is out on the town.) For the non-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">BYU</span>-Alum the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">HFAC</span> is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">th</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFkIHkQ0H0H2MZ2JtbLRkw8Ke7vSM1T_z3E8oFYOeDJ9SSQCdGPTTitEcU5cV2iPKGLynUIKVCSk91LWTdEZG1D_lkRNmEQi1GILHm42cAq54fvbY22w2yJz5pzP05GlAD1BCeHFEoNJM/s1600-h/IMG_0282.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFkIHkQ0H0H2MZ2JtbLRkw8Ke7vSM1T_z3E8oFYOeDJ9SSQCdGPTTitEcU5cV2iPKGLynUIKVCSk91LWTdEZG1D_lkRNmEQi1GILHm42cAq54fvbY22w2yJz5pzP05GlAD1BCeHFEoNJM/s320/IMG_0282.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299758709360650578" border="0" /></a>e Harris Fine Arts Center. I am continually amazed how many events are available and affordable on campus. We have decided to try to take more advantage of the enriching activities on campus in the short time we are here at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">BYU</span>. After the show we waited around and got to meet the "Dogs" on stage. The kids thought it was fun to meet the actors-- however having spent their growing up years in the Theater (<span style="font-style: italic;">Thanks to Pam and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">DCMT</span> (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Danville</span> Children's Musical Theater)</span>) and Nancy's involvement with the theater, being on stage was a familiar feeling for them. If you may be wondering about the "dogs" in the picture, they just came from a "Dog Party" so they are all wearing party hats with their ears pointing up, or hanging down. Thanks <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">BYU</span> theater department for a fun night out.Scottyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705334611820960948noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7147355651380057974.post-4739084117934885922009-02-03T15:59:00.000-08:002009-02-03T16:25:25.811-08:00School Volunteer<div><div>I've logged a number of hours volunteering in the school classroom. It's not my absolute favorite thing to do but my sense of duty (thank you Gilbert & Sullivan) helps me to feel rewarded in this endeavor. </div><br /><div></div><div>I kind of had a "hall pass" for the last 18 months since Grace was born. It's a well-known fact that if you have a newborn, you are absolved of classroom volunteering responsibilities. Does 18 months classify as a newborn still? I guess not. Time to get busy on that but in the meantime, I got caught in a teacher's snare. Before the holidays, Ben's teacher called and said, "were your the parent that was asking about volunteering opportunities in the classroom?" "Ummmm, well...[what in the heck do I say to that? If I say, 'nope, not me' I sound like a jerk. This is a trap, people.] I would be happy to volunteer if you need. What are you looking for exactly?" I took the bait. </div><div></div><br /><div>(By the way, I have been volunteering at the school for the second grade team. I just am not in the classroom but I exchange books for the kids. My brother said that in California, they call that the library but this is something different I assure you.)</div><br /><div></div><div>So, simply ignoring the assignment did not work. Indeed the parent I am to share with called me up in January and confirmed we are sharing every other week. Today I went for the first time. I begged and pleaded with Scott to come home and stay with the little girls as they are not invited to help.</div><br /><div></div><div>It was reading centers. Ack! Please start removing my fingernails one by one to alleviate the torture. The kids are split up into groups, they either go with the teacher or a BYU volunteer (could you not find another one???) whilst I wander the room awaiting a hand to go up or more importantly, I police the children so that they will actually do their work independently.</div><br /><div></div><div>Wander, wander.. Look like you are doing something. Oh good, a hand goes up. In whispered tones, "Hi. What can I help you with?" "What did Albert Einstein do?" "Well, he was super smart. Umm, he didn't invent the lightbulb. I know that was Edison." Luckily a kid pipes up, "he cured the common cold." Did he really? Well, what do you know. Not but a few minutes later, "How do you spell Donatello? Like the artist? [dumbhead]" Luckily I can spell. Why can't these kids ask me the main characters of Jane Austen's classics? Or how about talk about each of the Bronte sister novels? It's my current fettish. How about Elizabeth Gaskell? Let's talk about her. Any music question? Whatever.</div><div></div><br /><div>So, then I go about my wandering and notice a child not doing anything. "May I see your treasure journal?" "No." "Ummmm....please may I see your treasure journal." "No, you wouldn't understand it." Probably not, kid. This wasn't the first kid that refused to let me see their written work. After a discussion with the teacher afterwards, I realized this was their number one tactic for getting out of doing anything. Perfect. The highlight was of course seeing handsome Ben who has no qualms about showing his enthusiasm for me being there. That's why I do it.</div><div></div><br /><div>I can't wait until two weeks!</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298731132878615922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimjfBBLEX18t0xt1Cwpt4phM2jRwEBTqmKe1qusHhGvEtA2pCw33E7vHhLDt-uVQl7tO41a_s1nRTnPgsjEuTV9U3fOuEfMopn_j8ZlJJcE9QYiteQFKthxNGZ2eGNbPCHF3DRPK1-6i-r/s400/IMG_2946.JPG" border="0" /></div></div>Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17952750484470725111noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7147355651380057974.post-76320917703169454822009-01-20T11:35:00.000-08:002009-01-20T11:56:04.047-08:00Inauguration<div><div>Many would say that today is a historic moment. I have had a religious experience in regards to that but not necessarily for the same reason many others in the world would say. With the ending of President Bush's 2-term presidency and the swearing in of the 44th president, Barack Obama, I was moved by the ceremony and traditions our country has to officially render the change. The hype of the world is that Obama is a black man and a democrat. The country seems very happy about both of those things. </div><br /><div>My religious experience was related to witnessing the actual process our country goes through to change a president. I couldn’t help but feel as I watched the “end-to-end” coverage on TV how magnificent our country is. I am proud to be an American. It wasn’t completely unlike what happens in the church in terms of callings, oaths and covenants. There are procedures, traditions, oaths, that take place to signify the “blessing” or rather "sustaining" of the new president. It’s not like someone waves a wand but rather the sacred oath takes place with an arm to the square and the other hand on the bible. I'll admit it was pretty neat that Obama chose to place his hand upon the bible of Abraham Lincoln. </div><br /><div>Even though Obama was not my choice in candidates, I felt an overwhelming presence that this is an important of the democratic society. The people voted and chose this democrat. I must be a good loser because it’s a part of freedom. We are blessed in this country and God had a hand in its beginning and I believe He absolutely still does. That cannot be forgotten. Even in this wicked day and age, I still felt that spirit that resides in America today while watching the ceremony.</div><br /><div>Watching President and Laura Bush be escorted to the U.S. Air Force Helicopter that would take them to Andrews Air Force Base and then off to Texas where they will reside, my heart was warmed. I found it equally cool that accompanying them on this ride was the other former President George Bush and Barbara Bush. People can make all the jokes they want. For me, I will always respect this family for the service combined they have given to our country. And they are Republicans. Enough said.</div><br /><div></div><div>Of course, I have to do a little name-dropping because I am a Jacobs and that's just what Jacobs do. Senator Bob Bennett along with his wife appeared in all the pomp and circumstance and I've met and spoken with them in person, thank you very much. </div><br /><div></div><div>The country is in hard times and it appears to be headed into continued hard times. The time is ripe to have a lot of faith and stick close to commandments. I'll be a good sport and support our newly sworn in president and hope he is everything everyone seems to think and believe he is. </div><br /><div></div><div>As for Ben, I think he wants to be a Scotsman.</div><br /><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293466506654760642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgda8TGUhkGLTkqv6pBu10hJ5dCXlcAjU6cKuifikV-JtEUFSFUSdW7Z1-BJzoTDk3snXGQqlBvpiR5jhIen5-cn2HBRkrOnZbWUjJOillO5mRg3Ka9d0BUq9vazUllnKvBOSuLei6sCVsE/s400/IMG_2903c.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293466667284640290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5JPjnchoVMdhqmDM-kZYcYzdhi5g8xUsziIsp1cI5U70HkVRaU22ZGqeeXUiL07x3bg7J0zUFxFfynSlPaidGiO1jABj3FLKWryArnG9sMDcZmgUHeuDaRlpBvdVkbsp2U3OOLgKU2ZHb/s400/IMG_2905.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div></div></div>Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17952750484470725111noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7147355651380057974.post-16291605012999465782009-01-12T14:14:00.000-08:002009-01-12T14:50:44.113-08:00A Good Deed<div><div><div><div><div><div>A week ago Sunday, I was in Relief Society enjoying a moment hands-free without Gracie (it was Scott's turn to wrestle with her as we await the blessed nursery day that won't come soon enough). A sign-up sheet went around that turned out to be for the stake adult women's basketball league. After realizing what it was, I quickly passed it to the newly-married-with- one-child-already-back-t0-her-pre-pregnancy-weight-cute-girl beside me. She turned to me and said, "wouldn't you like to sign-up for basketball?" Ummm, [chuckle, chuckle] yeah right, I don't think so." [raise eyebrows, roll eyes]. </div><br /><div></div><div>I quickly realize this gal is in charge of the adult women's sport for our ward as evident by the follow-up conversation. She says, "really, I think you'd have a good time. It would be a lot of fun. I think you should sign up." Deer in the headlights. I mean really, girl, look at me. My feet are hardly touching the ground and I'm quite certain my right booty cheek is lopping over onto your chair. You can't be serious. "Well...uh....hmmm....I'm just not that athletic. I'm not....really... in the best of shape right now." LOOK AT ME!! I really wanted to explain to her that despite my appearance I do exercise nearly everyday but I'm just not the basketball type and frankly I've been eating too much, because you see I'm really stressed and I eat when I am stressed and food is love and, and, and....No time to have a heart-to-heart excuse session with this nice girl who is trying to magnify her calling. She says back to me "well, the more people we have, the less everyone has to do and I think you'd be surprised how fun it is. You could totally do it." I reply, "when are the games, I would love to come and support. I'm a really good cheerleader." She gives me the details and I tell her I'll think about it.</div><br /><div></div><div>As I thought about this nice girl during the rest of the Relief Society lesson, I realized what a good deed she did for me. She actually made me feel very good. She didn't take the stereotype and assume. After the amen was said, I turned to her and thanked her for being so kind to me. I got her name and told her she actually just about convinced me to give it a try. I promised, way more sincerely, that I would seriously consider it and get back to her.</div><br /><div></div><div>I'm not exactly sure of the moral of the story but I do know this totally unknown person to me made me feel good. That is a good deed.<br /></div><div>I don't have a picture of me playing basketball or anything bloggy like that but I do have some photos from a recent sledding engagement.</div><div> </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290541637841136130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWY0MP_KE9UVtSCKGZJO5sV0sdG44lphHFSA1b9HxpLo50YK8BHarkkLEUcpvEn3q5EGQPnMKugcu3DHR3cNuRLC98mDdieYISeh9J9gl9yg3N4Cz4dmMvhOwt3aW2X71xGX3o6jsyDiRo/s320/IMG_2899C.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290541956274917890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAGnC40rcasw38AG2rc1TuQ_untRMmd0GYvPQF3l-NMkIbGsYcsNbZBBhFBH51LOZ-87k5cJE7R-XfYkQZIU53icmpPEvVvAqWCUXeGItzBEQ354_BXitT0wBudVWCTbkgYy-NVwqy_v24/s320/IMG_2902.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290542117893262946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpp59vPh-68VZN4lkUkV8ccMkNABPDCvLeyDx6CoOe5J5UANezxYUF8vJJC2-S9B1BDW0dKHDZGyoeDm6BMrqsHgV3dg4-R9XZZnPJHkG5OKUqdBhRjumS8NStXCzRgh5KYkHaE4_dKjIH/s320/IMG_2877.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290542290974625762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguZ1uqTA-8qdGkIG95iNAYe_mL6fUDqSFujsWZHKdS7LN8T32vX2zzhneSTG-O-XBsWPl-fcXd34rnJqKwsiyS5I9asFQABiRj9yRDAVmb8R9B9j5lYvqwAi09cAS6kdVEkDj77Sbn0mj9/s320/IMG_2875.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290542616246797266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGFHcr-mg0grPx4MwIwq8JWXkBVYpeecwLtagz3LIc3oHMw0vlwvy8lExn0igQtYTrHD7FHGVE0x4j5Lm26mn39VwmolQR_MeEt7fPrbLn0OsgSvqXOHsG3w8uo6eQ9IiVPEAofVdLeDj9/s320/IMG_2892.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290542477785007330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtYpXz_Wn4eBd3BsOc1ZrDukvAmBWi28MRCUvgl3C3NaEQTql_o3_0ch7Q0ZOgEGyr37QyQu0ZPC-smLHI0imH05qbW2NpZ-a6b4qM0AadT2FpHSzwrXyNqtRYNbJOCqYW-Ka7fm_X3i6-/s320/IMG_2893.JPG" border="0" />It's all fun and games until someone wipes out...<br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17952750484470725111noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7147355651380057974.post-71950159498980816992008-12-31T16:51:00.000-08:002008-12-31T17:14:11.717-08:00Semester Grades<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaBkhr__RPKS5_s6fAE_O1RypIkauRXP_Wr3xrt1UKhOYnPX0TUrtohyphenhyphen0zPSjCztK9som7WvLF8EDps0rBsLcKn6XporAEP-3B2tURIIrd5r_FGbHEyt8bc50B0AG_bpwNFre7u0kiW1-2/s1600-h/IMG_2767.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286122986583687298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaBkhr__RPKS5_s6fAE_O1RypIkauRXP_Wr3xrt1UKhOYnPX0TUrtohyphenhyphen0zPSjCztK9som7WvLF8EDps0rBsLcKn6XporAEP-3B2tURIIrd5r_FGbHEyt8bc50B0AG_bpwNFre7u0kiW1-2/s320/IMG_2767.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></p>I am pleased to report that Scott received his grades for his first semester. I'm even more excited about his marks to use the Little House on the Prairie venacular.<br /><br /><br /><br />P MGT 632 Quantitative Decision An <span style="color:#990000;"><strong>A</strong> </span>3.0 Fall 2008 MAJOR<br />P MGT 662 Communication in Public <strong><span style="color:#990000;">A-</span></strong> 3.0 Fall 2008 MAJOR<br />P MGT 684 Administrative Environme <span style="color:#990000;"><strong>A-</strong></span> 3.0 Fall 2008 MAJOR<br />P MGT 612 Econ Dec Making for Mana <span style="color:#990000;"><strong>A-</strong></span> 3.0 Fall 2008 MAJOR<br />P MGT 641 Organizational Behavior <span style="color:#990000;"><strong>A-</strong></span> 3.0 Fall 2008 MAJOR<br />P MGT 642R Executive Lectures in Pu <span style="color:#990000;"><strong>A</strong></span> 0.5 Fall 2008 MAJOR<br /><br /><br /><br /><p></p>Hooray for Scotty! Way to go! Now how exactly should husbands be compensated for such good grades? That will take some further thought.<br /><p></p>In addition, I received my own set of grades. My marks are as follows:<br /><span style="color:#000000;"></span><br /><p></p><ul><li><span style="color:#cccccc;">HM MGT 632 Cooking for Scott's team on the fly - A </span></li><li><span style="color:#cccccc;">HM MGT 662 Budgeting - B+</span></li><li><span style="color:#cccccc;">HM MGT 684 Special Editor for Scott's Papers - A</span></li><li>HM MGT 612 Buyer of Proper Snowgear - C-</li><li>HM MGT 641 Holding the family fort down in all aspects - A</li><li>HM MGT 642R Being Scott's number one cheerleader - A</li><li>HM MGT 681 Laundry - D</li></ul><p><p>As you can see, I need to repeat a few courses to pull up a couple of grades. At least I have a few more semesters for that.</p><br /><p></p>Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17952750484470725111noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7147355651380057974.post-65622804911429224782008-12-16T09:03:00.000-08:002008-12-16T09:30:48.936-08:00When do you call the fire department?<div><div><div>I wish I could say I was busy cleaning the toilet or something but actually, I was busy at the computer when Emma and Grace decided to pop some microwave popcorn. Grace is the instigator and Emma the "go to" gal. With combined efforts, the bag of popcorn made it into the microwave and the timer set. I got updates from Emma like, "Mom, I pushed the wight buttons!", "I can mell the popcone cooking." Great, I respond, type, type, typing away. Suddenly, Emma runs to me and says "Mom, come he-o quick." I run to the kitchen to see smoke billowing out of the microwave and this number on the microwave screen.</div><br /><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280438370915640562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicnaAY14rJC1rAYxrLSHaEI0hxR0DoBd4Zd_fWaSnlrsvDaWdVYDRbTSitV0TV0ytR165_t2FFY5CFKUWVXw7MxfvZ16kQXVUJtBs7hnSdw8N04Xt8oVQeN3Wwk44_M3g2mKdwJES3DmhQ/s320/IMG_2787.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div>Emma then says, "oh, dang. I pushed the wong numb-o." Don't worry, I say. Good job for trying! Smoke is now stinking up the house, the bag of popcorn is now smoldering in the garbage can outside and all the doors in the middle of a welcomed snowstorm are open. My fire-alarm guard cat, pumpkin, is meowing to make sure I know that the smoke is burning all of our throats and Emma is yelling for me to shut the doors because it's too cold. I don't think anyone can be harmed from popcorn smoke inhalation. The throat burning is dying down, thank goodness. I'm sure it will ultimately be to blame for some sort of cancer I'll get later in life. Nice to have another excuse besides all that eco-friendly stuff I refuse to believe in. </div><br /><div></div><div>The other thought that went through my mind at the height of the emergency: Oh great, what if I have to call the fire department and there are rice krispies spilled all over the floor! That would be embarassing.</div><div> </div><div>My sweet cohorts...</div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280441322037824914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh83FJZ9iXONrNIUzn4u_g9EofFlEqKuN7ekynOwlxaZjUAd2MWs_0J5rAl0BH3P37-Sh3Gg1vetJm42Q7nVNbh6EUidJGshm3Bl0igj0pM-9WIvZJRcyX1YG9eH3Y8CEIS1w2Yw9L3hYl3/s320/IMG_2737.JPG" border="0" /></div></div></div><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280440701041579458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx61gkDkxX3Qb0RQQPctcKcjtYyKjhT6FhWlsPxrid2DrQRBcq96efFfcRu2nJNQe5TFbN5lEjUjLhbF3JN8CcCdR7LffYWdFKHxuygZJjlgf7Z8WcaNFh4jbe4vhRNMDb-QHfAS_Ov-d7/s320/IMG_2777.JPG" border="0" /></p><p> </p>Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17952750484470725111noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7147355651380057974.post-30781293064197576992008-12-02T11:16:00.000-08:002008-12-02T12:07:29.995-08:00The Tale of the Twenty Four Pound Tom Turkey<div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>I chuckled to myself when people would ask me, "are you going home for Thanksgiving?" My mental response usually was, "umm, we've been married for 12 years, home is where we are living which is here." I'm proud to report that I didn't let myself get melancholy once this week in thinking about how many Thanksgivings we've actually spent totally alone as a family. (A majority of them) It's a badge of honor. I love my little family and glad I get to share the holidays with them.</div><br /><div></div><div>We were pleased to be able to help Scott's cousins adjust to their first Thanksgiving without their parents (Scott's aunt and uncle are on a mission). We are pros. They were kind enough to invite us to their Thanksgiving dinner and our contribution was the turkey. Wait, did I say "OUR", I meant to say SCOTT'S contribution was the turkey. I cannot take credit for the spectacularly cooked turkey Scott pulled off. Did I marry well, or what? Scott is a fabulous chef and he did an awesome job. Don't worry, I contributed in the things I do best: worker bee in the final hours of the meal preparation, setting the table and documenting the day with photos. I'm really good at fawning over those who did cook. Really, it's a gift I have.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Here we go, the pictorial tale of the 24 pound tom turkey:</div><br /><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275276459402890562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_cQdqILtkPxjfsmqbsDczjaycuLvvaA_JGE8qNzhTCibZvEM7btNLaGRcdBlRFch1HXExCtu3KnTeHH2MLlVWrmSJ5rsonYJWV8yJR3x8EgOe6FEDTDKoAcAUGPqgTF81fk5ZOJCUIY20/s320/IMG_2739.JPG" border="0" /></div><br /><br /><p>Preparing the brew to brine the turkey for 18 hours prior to cooking. Thanks "myfoxutah" for the recipe. Think a lot of salt, some honey and spices in a lot of water and broth.</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275276805501341954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5HEqtmLUk5mLQoHva5_uKdY88cZ-9jMokFn6sUWtey3fCjxrm5zmtYMCYN1Tk4iXQjpykXN5S2NPjJM8_7CZPsgODLzQNUoOYxBWo5IO7qKmb04M7V7ezuiK9VXTVtxZ5iMiS_wJNw_q4/s320/IMG_2740.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><p>Scott removing the sacred neck and gizzards. When Scott asked for something to hold them in, I responded with, "how about a trash can." No go. The organs stayed. Luckily he boiled them while I was away at Twilight with Becca. I'm also refraining from posting the close-up shot of the turkey neck. You're welcome.</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275278536884633970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvuSWBARBlNtUN2FNNTYhWmvdOh0efP2QT4d8heuOAL3ZQUmF6k__ph2_7hCrewbi-vfGUqD-6ic-suwd1PYGpwDxzibedh-LCkKcM-_bd51HOBbt70pSYpAV3Y6pMcltt2nUfb_lPZHU0/s320/IMG_2742.JPG" border="0" /><br /><p>Scott wrestling the bad boy into the oven roasting bag that would eventually hold the brine. When he called me to assist, I did what I do best, "hold on, let me take a picture first." Luckily, the turkey didn't end up on the floor due to the delay.</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275279095815450898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_7X_tM5_M-Ez1GevRjayQm1P5DYHR8AfTmOwrrC98tuaOaT54DFewruWIpkiPiMGGqoxN5fr4NKrIdIobtTz3a0Sx4H36JD_roSKNs9d6dvzVDHspCPt1Vaxhwb1qkri9IA6Uj3pl8HDP/s320/IMG_1377.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><p>Onto the next day, THE day. Scott trying the initial roasting pan. </p><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275279769332424050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJRssjHeFngxfqxCpEXRruCgJusS9nbmBUMSNLrVFaj7lv1fHNQhCsatXvw_9sxtyaMiKnYPaYQq2Jyh22aNEPYwNQ3BKLg0E9FazXGL0QRhksuOrQZLSeoqhn-sRzmahOtnA1ojJsFm93/s320/IMG_1376.JPG" border="0" /></p><br /><p>I feel like I'm going to bust out of my britches once in a while too. Have to move on to PLAN B: run home and get the other roasting pan that my dad gave me a few years back. My dad did not chintz on kitchen wares. Thanks Big Vern! We were thinking about you and know you would be so proud!</p><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275280180916185778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR6N45MVi1YfbM-nZNJ5o4xv7ivWs9yefuym0VxIctXU7BThDqqSf7vfa8qbe78lMEXRL_TAy46Tm35ZmHbIz0GJXGCfkPj5h35pXafvueq3f4rgCuRPy6qMdyk-Ygmmu6af4CvC_xOlVn/s320/IMG_1382.JPG" border="0" /><br />Unfortunately, an amputation was still necessary. Off the wings came but don't worry, we are provident livers here, the wings got tucked in underneath the bird so they wouldn't go to waste. I mean, really, we have to keep the dumb gizzards for heaven's sake. You think he was going to let the wings go? No way, jose.</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275280721607486738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMV-IzdjB8IKyfb_serrCaW00DkvT44Wzfg7dyU0uZT_VLvOM3Uxr4OGdn1bzAUcS3GTUVJXtcn6zQ8HG3eUZBBETwp_W4Opn5Z9sTJ8jVlElSC6FrRbZ9FgI-GeCeZuTSXcZZzjVtyaDE/s320/IMG_1383.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><p>All dressed (massaged, spiced, and who knows what else) and ready to go!</p></div></div></div></div></div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275281072048442034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhshYf_Mgnk-ZnDVUx1Rps-PJXqtmkE_FlaycGo7CMMSAgoqAs1bLyZRZv-G_8QNuxz2sTm67W58W3VT6XJTxTPoO1Syg9TaABTKJ0tbWigDk5Q8Dce_DItOhyphenhyphen2R5XZiMQAJBpH4coUgkd-/s320/IMG_2743.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><p></p><br /><p>After a few hours (and a full choreography of turning the oven up and down, putting on the foil, taking off the foil, stand up, sit down, fight, fight, fight)....</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275281575651366322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyvxmRjejvbMfpCfBCWAC6g_JWdVpOGleKVTs7SaHJk8UTzaNb2s9uh7a-qqgjTnpgQvTCqPu5pRL7iHyRhki6_ta-yzfM2VRe5bbZZp1Flh3GzCSAf0Lg24e_QiFKW2nVVFIY-CExOGyg/s320/IMG_2744.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><p>The cook's job is never done. Here he is pictured with the hostess with the mostest, cousin Julie. (By the way, those are construction paper turkey feathers on the door behind Julie, not a special cap she made for the occasion.)</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275281979320774498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIAARvjzlb0UJWnsazZaI4nhLX43_LiHu5JweBbbjIXZ7Gxn4mUYl6KtsgpYSUcWCZplfIiRGd7Hym0cZe0gMDapopjaWZp7FcbH1XO_XeEbnd506wO0jF61vxZGUN44Rooylvl6B3cH2l/s320/IMG_2745.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><p>Carving away. Glad a 24-pound turkey can feed 13 adults and 12 kidlets.</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275282364205298482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhskmF_zqQi6g0hbE7yXHjGlp8pXpYxxNBMi0j1vqTDjZreAFJfVaUHORoGmdS-FsXO9IXKkbf2lzATihbkJW_2V3pjob4C2OljG33-BGNM8VM750IuUu0rkFcV6LOqBJJ4_QKL8N5hssds/s320/IMG_2747.JPG" border="0" /> We were especially lucky to have Becca and Kyle (niece and her hubby) to share in the turkey glory. They were kid entertainers extraordinaire! Such a handsome couple! </div><br /><div></div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275282869254983602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjYZPViZHWmUrU5OVuRV9mifjuIoGC3S4Qx1610COAxcUwKlPnwh5BeaEAkFx2ujR8FRHE0QS9WJburEl5-EtyiynwDRPAJwsm9jqMnY9XYbP-yMTBLC7NvH8HjCQ63ONJtjGKhuGTni9o/s320/IMG_2746.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><p>Grace enjoying some mashed potatoes.</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275284149038079746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh02vEdVp7xDWLaUjVVXOgeCnMr0FaD1aTKbYE587C4cNMzPepG_oWkVPtp56N_1Z5rN83TRgxqTXR6IJzkS05qpMF2NYh_fdmZM4061f_YvTz1AH_zzXDekJQ9Ni7i7UzsMBhznV0mA2P1/s320/IMG_2748.JPG" border="0" /><br /><p>With Scott's cousins, we change the song from "grab your partner" to "grab your baby"! We were so lucky to be included with such a festive group. </p><p>What I haven't photographed are the ziploc bags full of turkey bones and leftover meat that Scott dreams about making turkey stock and sandwiches with. Although he has made a couple of sandwiches, he is almost up on his turkey stock-making days. I have an internal clock that informs me when it is politically correct to toss them. </p><p>Awesome job Scotty! You made one of my least favorite foods so yummy!</p></div></div></div></div>Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17952750484470725111noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7147355651380057974.post-21331042995127581872008-11-22T20:24:00.001-08:002008-11-22T21:09:43.665-08:00Provident Living<div>So, I guess my darling child does not inspire comments. So sad. I'll move onto another subject that has been brewing in my head. With this economy combined with being "starving students" now, we, like many others, have had to tighten the belt. Here are a few things that have saved us some pennies so that hopefully the dollars will mind themselves. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>1. Do a load of laundry a day. A load a day makes it so that the kids don't need as many clothes. I'm sure an economist out there would say that doing a load a day could be less cost effective on the energy bill but in my house, we just don't need as many outfits, socks, underwear etc.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>2. Unsubscribe to retail e-mails. Out of sight, out of mind. I don't think to click onto a retail website unless I get an e-mail first. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>3. Don't go out to eat. This one is obvious and self-explanatory.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>4. Drive the speed limit. This helps on many levels. Besides avoiding paying ridiculous fees on speeding tickets, I actually do get better mileage. Trust me, I know.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>5. Eat in portion control. Shocking that a box of triscuits can last me two weeks if I eat them in suggested serving sizes. Hmmmm....</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>6. Although food is cheaper at Walmart and Target, all the "extras" that end up in my basket certainly make up for any savings on food. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>7. The above applies to Costco except that I have been able to exhibit control and only buy FOOD that we actually do EAT before it expires from Costco at a cost savings. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>8. Use the library. Another no-brainer. I just hate borrowing but it's working okay.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>9. Throw away the volumes of catalogs that come in the mail especially before the kids see them.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>10. Only drink water or milk. Soda speaks for itself and juice just doesn't do anything for us. We're better off eating the actual fruit than its juice.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>11. Don't buy cold cereal. Sounds crazy but it's so expensive, increases our milk bill unnecessarily, and unless it's Fiber One or Kashi (or something like it) it's just not that good nutritionally. Everyone is hungry not more than an hour later if eaten for breakfast. Scott's note: Fiber One is colon care not nutritional care. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>12. Do Flylady instead of hiring a housecleaner. This one is a bummer and is still not proving to be a replacement but I'm trying. This one is coming back to the budget as soon as I can manage it.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Wait a minute, half of these things are from my "how to lose weight" list. What's up with that? I hate it when things are so inter-related. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>This is just a small sampling but I'm amazed that for once in our married life, we are able to stick to a budget successfully. That feels kind of good! </div><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271715256845787266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHrPzK0z7FF6alzymlIJmv0Dlm0xymYZ9tjqZQeRaIqX1jujlrD33JGpTvsjpJm2urTLVI3lPD-rmXZuflcIsUXRYY_v7GzdTsSS3LNa8g8tsIc-YH308FfHaGVq3ApEdyP9lBJicSILyQ/s320/IMG_2692.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div></div>Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17952750484470725111noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7147355651380057974.post-59154486711066202772008-11-21T10:48:00.000-08:002008-11-21T11:00:11.750-08:00Now What?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDD4mEsqXVfVj7fTHtwqw6Sy1rXmtj15mH2UWy4gEI4XO7i7S6-Tm4i6Si7tUzAOLobPslh43OkfbA6CzfJVD9mWv5-YLvJYYTzs0NDM5-o3CLlRloUq7L1HI1cx5aI4n9o5-0hsO7PNWD/s1600-h/IMG_2728c.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271186805414362194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDD4mEsqXVfVj7fTHtwqw6Sy1rXmtj15mH2UWy4gEI4XO7i7S6-Tm4i6Si7tUzAOLobPslh43OkfbA6CzfJVD9mWv5-YLvJYYTzs0NDM5-o3CLlRloUq7L1HI1cx5aI4n9o5-0hsO7PNWD/s320/IMG_2728c.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I took this photo in raw, without a flash, played in Photoshop but now what? It's nothing fantastic. Obviously, I have more learning to do. </div>Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17952750484470725111noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7147355651380057974.post-19284878595606871752008-11-20T12:50:00.000-08:002008-11-20T13:32:20.082-08:00These are a few of my favorite things....<div><div>Eat your heart at Oprah! Here are my most recent favorite discoveries:</div><div></div><br /><div>1. The Pioneer Woman...<a href="http://www.thepioneerwoman.com/">http://www.thepioneerwoman.com/</a>. (Thanks Becca for the tip!) Not only is she so interesting and brings you into her world of modern-day ranching but she is so free with her own hints and tips. Here's what I came up with after searching through her photography section:<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270846156357807938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWTbjRt7qJMpXbLTCjfBUfJ9C2gV0jWOpydJz4cF7iaOEHsRF1SNLHTOKCBu9Ix8kNbZjDvFuI9ptMH-EG2Z3ez-DslEURnDrnp7anVZVrhyphenhyphenDpTuSXzqV3EUqVYwAhXYNxfUUSm2qthSsn/s320/Untitled-1.jpg" border="0" /></div></div><br /><p>Can you tell which is the original? Will I be brave enough to shoot pictures only in raw and never with a flash as she suggests? Oh my!</p><br /><p>2. $.17 stamps as well as $.59 stamps. Who needs to mail things these days with e-mail and internet? Well, I do. I've been wasting money on stamps when I'm over one ounce. I've been putting two $.42 stamps. Did you know that each additional ounce over one ounce is only $.17? I'm a provident liver now!</p><br /><p>3. Facebook. I love this fast way to have two-way communication with friends and family.</p><br /><p>4. Rhodes frozen rolls for homemade pizzas on the grill. Take the frozen dinner roll dough out to thaw for a bit and then anyone (including kids) can stretch it out. Put a little bit of olive oil on one side, cook on the grill to cook that side, add sauce, cheese and toppings to the cooked side and put it back on the grill. Fast, easy and yummy! I've used wheat rolls too...mmmm.</p><br /><p>5. Double burner griddle for the stove from Pampered Chef. I leave it on my stovetop and use it for everything. Who knew it would be so handy?</p><br /><p>6. The soundtrack for Hairspray. Not sure what turned me back onto this music but I just love these songs. The true question is whether or not it will outplay the Mamma Mia soundtrack. Something to watch for.</p><br /><p>7. Scrapbooking on Photoshop. My love of photoshop only increases as I continue to discover all it's potential but scrapbooking on Photoshop is just so fun, I can hardly stand it! I can get caught up on scrapbooking even though I may not necessarily spend the money to print out the pages at Costco yet. My finished pages are just in a queue waiting to be let out. The possibilities are endless!</p><br /><p>8. Printing 12 x12 pages at Costco. Obviously related to the above favorite thing. Costco is the cheapest and handiest place so far to print out 12x12's. I'm waiting for the prices to be reduced even more but that hasn't happened yet. The only risk is protecting the pages from being crushed by flats of chicken broth and raw hamburger juices.</p><p>9. Having the kids conduct family home evenings (not lead the music but actually conduct). This has brought new life to our FHE gatherings. To hear the kid in charge 'welcoming everybody' and 'turning the time over to so-and-so' is so funny and endearing all at the same time!</p><br /><p>I'm sure there are more but I can't think of them right now. On another exciting note, I have to take Ben after school to a recording session where he is singing in a school choir that is recording a new primary song for the church. Why do I think this is so cool that I am almost getting emotional about it? I'll post more details when I hear more. </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270854772977321106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMhy1lqVZYTGuCg1qZa2IkcTzcqADvECsdSwW2oFwKtKM3VjACEl8wEfp8uAzMgWiENQzsmAq0K9girYjPmvKer5bqulxENd4VNN_BC9dU-8PKRp2nid3GPMGk52lLkQvogZR5cMC86R1y/s320/IMG_2693.JPG" border="0" /></p>Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17952750484470725111noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7147355651380057974.post-10742823382362403192008-11-13T18:43:00.000-08:002008-11-13T18:54:18.741-08:00New Favorite AuthorI rarely recommend books. I love, however, when I am recommended a book that I instantly adore. This is what happened when a good and trusted friend gave me the book Garden Spells by Sarah Addison Allen. (Can I mention your name trusted friend?) She happens to be friends with the editor who recommended it highly to her. It's a unique tale and truly magical! It's pretty clean and just a sweet story. <div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268340145227543042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinxV6f7sTXyHH_7RS2cxSRoD-pTFuGyg_aHfch-xidRmzo8L3rhAZ8iCPLlZBiaxjYokiWURgUCnILbVsm9PyxeuXoFlkvZ2bsmsdxeY0XAP6qwqD6XqaS3z8c2zcOg47Td34g0Kl4P0-6/s320/gardenspells.jpg" border="0" /> <div></div><br /><div>Imagine my glee when Sarah Addison Allen's second book, Sugar Queen, was just as delectable if not more so than her first! Oh joy, oh rapture! I can't wait for her next book to come out in May of 2009. Check it out for yourself on Amazon.com or wherever you like to shop for books and see if it's something that would suit your fancy too!</div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268340284039089602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZHi03nWve6P-C20VGid0k0u_vte-RyOd8eOleBOKapUyxdEu3tV0aXjgbW90jnkA5lay_kj15EtqlQUehBhCViSyq3qD0_nrJcGkKSt4EYmKh7jzbnodXztLuHgwwrGN8m8_FxHZVnNA0/s320/sugarqueen.jpg" border="0" /></div></div></div><br /><p>I just tried to "friend" Ms. Allen on facebook. I hope she wants to be my friend. I'm determined to get her to Utah for a booksigning.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268340489666462674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 100px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 128px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid6J66YbqIaUcLG7jsoXLhQxWrcIBUtAeXAWe6YxMhSWDn98x1v0BjFJTEi6arlBH5ZwYDzlE78b8C5TKYQlmUJ4DjsUuvR2nFqWiQXwR02DQ7k_rgyk5ys9APO9MeDsSXo4-I_wwtzeg7/s320/sarahaddisonallen.jpg" border="0" /></p>Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17952750484470725111noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7147355651380057974.post-38511856375321552932008-11-12T17:51:00.000-08:002008-11-12T18:15:40.536-08:00In Need of an Actuary<div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4h3_7GZUPlY2AxvbhbAJpXmmsFg5-H5pWljBksoqfnTYIzeGEvsHxhyV7g-FhGJzdNDG6KsljobeRYGIjiAHnmp2hyF8ig6uG_xxhPsLQEv6mCsKzn5dow8yT46BX1UxXPky9lGM-9nun/s1600-h/mph.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267957752441769810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 104px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 114px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4h3_7GZUPlY2AxvbhbAJpXmmsFg5-H5pWljBksoqfnTYIzeGEvsHxhyV7g-FhGJzdNDG6KsljobeRYGIjiAHnmp2hyF8ig6uG_xxhPsLQEv6mCsKzn5dow8yT46BX1UxXPky9lGM-9nun/s320/mph.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Isn't an actuary a person who measures risks? I need my risks calculatecd on my chances of getting a speeding ticket. I just got my 2nd speeding ticket in only two months and all in the same city! What on earth is going on? Well, besides apparently I don't know my speed zones, I am starting to believe that Provo Police has me under surveillance so on the rare chance I actually leave my house, they've got me covered. During most of a week, I exist in an area that includes short of a 2-mile radius. What are the chances of getting a ticket when I am on the roads so infrequently? </div><br /><div></div><div>Just a helpful note, the speed limit on University Parkway between the stadium and the baseball field is 30 mph. I made sure and questioned the schoolboy, allegedly a police officer, who pulled me over about this. Why is it 30 mph when there isn't a house or neighborhood in sight? His answer was that it was because it was a school area. Yeah, a school full of ADULTS you ding dong. Just get your backpack on little boy, hop on your bicycle and scoot along. (Don't worry, I refrained from saying the latter.)</div><br /><div></div><div>So, if you happen to be behind me getting very impatient as I'm following absolutely every speed limit...TOO BAD! You'll have to take it up with the officer who is likely not far behind me.</div><br /><div></div><div>Scott, have fun watching the kids while I go to traffic school. Apparently I need it since studying the DMV booklet hasn't seemed to help in the slightest.</div><div> </div><div>Some photos from a day playing in the leaves to end on a good note...</div><div> </div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267958979568837298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaeft-NiVaLlO1yuiGg3XnvG32y3hZ898pFojMKIOZbCtsmHUitEXLbB9HHLQh5LL7p5aJwWqySmJdfGDmWUhxianhbUshAiFtbEvFJuSW3-dY4ssiryE6rLA_EoJRBZ-tp3EQQihD7sFI/s320/IMG_2717.JPG" border="0" /></div></div></div></div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267959159418199874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaSyudrZXP_NAioVNVlPZlSIKXVqeGRcR4OtVG34enMoqe6Q_caU7M_ajNNeuaSyTi8XmMfBruh3307Skf6ya7tgkmDW5MuVxY2YutlbDQYTN1961yuszp3pfbchAY-50mfTjisNwXp8tB/s320/IMG_2701.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267959378310162754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiDgSi99kR6bErrqCrNTKVSMdbuIxLhufmX6MEdyuouvhvPdZM1Cjz-6WxTdtN2cnPv4dFZ5mC38B6nuCNGKexbmDt-4kHME03WkgUayeUsPmjDTSezkG8AR5480RJYBWQN4TXFFzR2PU1/s320/IMG_2705.JPG" border="0" />Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17952750484470725111noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7147355651380057974.post-6347400023358138142008-11-04T14:12:00.000-08:002008-11-14T08:05:24.347-08:00The Sock Round-up<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLSL_OEcBl6pEcDhooJ8J_UdPhx_744XqRo8tpJQ5Gv99eEeciNlTDwge1l6SbkYkkfIsJZEJk8dJKTw4DWD4cBSynvmKDAfopbNRDsnygEV8H0JaDtc63YYVl0x4ig-tgCHm89hBgXzd2/s1600-h/IMG_2651.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264929426708961730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLSL_OEcBl6pEcDhooJ8J_UdPhx_744XqRo8tpJQ5Gv99eEeciNlTDwge1l6SbkYkkfIsJZEJk8dJKTw4DWD4cBSynvmKDAfopbNRDsnygEV8H0JaDtc63YYVl0x4ig-tgCHm89hBgXzd2/s320/IMG_2651.JPG" border="0" /></a> Today I have spent an inordinate amount of time finally facing that laundry basket that has all the leftover stuff in it. Stuff = mismatched socks, clothes I don't know if should be tossed, doll clothes, etc. As this isn't a favorite task, as indicated by my procrastination of it, my mind went adrift asking many rhetorical questions.<br /><br /><br /><br />Why....<br /><ul><li>don't waffle irons have power switches?</li><li>does my cute little baby insist on climbing on top of the dining table? Or the piano, for that matter.</li><li>is it that when I do laundry, my 4 year-old has 15 pairs of underwear and my 7 and 10 year olds only have maybe 1?</li><li>do I think my PC is much easier to use than Scott's mac? </li><li>does our cat insist on sleeping in Grace's crib?</li><li>am I so excited about seeing a flock of 20 California quail in my Utah backyard?</li><li>doesn't it snow already? We are ready!</li><li>does Scott drape his pants on a chair only six inches from the closet instead of hanging them?</li><li>is Emma so cute when she looks at the rain turn to snow outside and says "the sky is all out of rain"?</li><li>is it when I tell Sarah that I wish the laundry lady would come, she answers in a not so nice tone, "THAT'S YOU!!"?</li><li>didn't Scott run my photo through Photoshop before posting it on our blog?</li></ul>Well, there are many more but that about covers it for the moment. Here are some unrelated photos for fun....<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264937610170614914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiZ5xzA-532qabbafvL-G4Fmz04z0QS1IlkOhubrjfG3S1piSf4i9Lt8LZkasHWZxeJgScpjbnUZigZxu68CThXDfOehOo6lRAcUZgtsCi8D_s7O2kpdGKAdICfj-6mw0lB_g-1uWWCUET/s320/IMG_2669.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264937190270468930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 186px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDL5NuW7s2OQE41tpdwqjWZ1yPwc-RoKt0RldDaUTbkOdlUuxIsLM2FbTYn1SO5YtWeMuRZSB6739sLJRqBvFS6KR5a6T_i-jW_FK4Q4pdU2wqPdjSiltJC6HlTT0H0GD0MdZTi4h_16V3/s320/IMG_2665c.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264936915748093058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh90H3dPtiAHjVe5-DZvIdpS9cH45xezHujjYoDCN9Ur4Z2YLg-RQ4KEeDc5b2Rp263LLW6ugpBHjeOTL_DnxAlnJ2a9qSi8Fi5FdGqQk8-kqNjrgVpLCUn2uY_CtFJgqX_jqrQuo0yrswN/s320/IMG_2660.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264936267638403314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijpQWsNmqEh7DFuwQDsh_jTYKQgzX0x0GDA5SD9qQtV1WkyhAL6GAKqw_YJjaHrRX4Eb7nGwpZAcp85liGSFUmIr114Um1rekhMZ7tlVf3nD0dOOE_wnYlB6qsMwKXS5_3HHKd7q_VL0U_/s320/IMG_2658.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264935787027917314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZZDDHW2IYbOo7N5ro6fqMO2gRXvn-UCmQZZHqdKQzljn4c0X5yjpGhVWqid3eKSnIqbnpah5hjJsQdTT31gFzWF5vxiHAFxcMDK8D9ysEnCa9VWyWo4ucRYIDSv8eaxeUeilrYDucl_QA/s320/IMG_2654.JPG" border="0" /><br /><p><br /></p>Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17952750484470725111noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7147355651380057974.post-90146019931511161502008-10-28T21:55:00.000-07:002008-10-28T22:27:38.282-07:00Home away from HomeI am really enjoying graduate school--the only problem is I live in one building. A few weeks ago I actually went to the library. It was nice to get out and see the rest of the "world." I thought I would share some pictures of my home away from home. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmd359Vx_ShPinRLavvzhQYwSLboLCeBfykv1-C8WOH3M_-nxZFYamD8kPJWbuJPRFKGNNuUvlzaBmVddF02q4dDWhdyJuRCSh7rCvfb-6TaLWM7T4VsKjfqyDuAGMKryQ0twnlUi3tUY/s1600-h/IMG_1185.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmd359Vx_ShPinRLavvzhQYwSLboLCeBfykv1-C8WOH3M_-nxZFYamD8kPJWbuJPRFKGNNuUvlzaBmVddF02q4dDWhdyJuRCSh7rCvfb-6TaLWM7T4VsKjfqyDuAGMKryQ0twnlUi3tUY/s320/IMG_1185.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262436153734127922" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Looking up is always a nice reminder that there is live outside of the Tanner Building.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFsoX9Y3Ueqor5EoUoPGHRFldAoBqAe009tEhC6FScdEfNZQM7za6UzzXQhETr9G9NB63RtHypz5GAlf3n3WsxIl4iUQp8UrxptNjg6W09Xu8w4cHpj2CbpAxQk6zHqVDZV7hIuFwZFu0/s1600-h/IMG_1184.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFsoX9Y3Ueqor5EoUoPGHRFldAoBqAe009tEhC6FScdEfNZQM7za6UzzXQhETr9G9NB63RtHypz5GAlf3n3WsxIl4iUQp8UrxptNjg6W09Xu8w4cHpj2CbpAxQk6zHqVDZV7hIuFwZFu0/s320/IMG_1184.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262436723258843058" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The view from the new addition. Not a bad view I might add! I love Timp.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsny4Vhu3NwYc5K90tvrOqLmF90uU-vbeFXhPiRUO0z914J1HFWet05c0Z3Tq_Gth5g9yy2VvyVi8clVZ3ojJ4YBpxXY9wEe3Pk0t-m9dl1VDXH2zrvkHKvjuvBlGtZ2NcB1dy9cShbGY/s1600-h/IMG_2542.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsny4Vhu3NwYc5K90tvrOqLmF90uU-vbeFXhPiRUO0z914J1HFWet05c0Z3Tq_Gth5g9yy2VvyVi8clVZ3ojJ4YBpxXY9wEe3Pk0t-m9dl1VDXH2zrvkHKvjuvBlGtZ2NcB1dy9cShbGY/s320/IMG_2542.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262437383334267618" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The inside of the new addition atrium.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf0QCUgAu66i7P9dV2hRs9yGfX5tLbIrSYp-5ODFUamZieOoOUP55_I9sTm5ZaCCC83VtxdCW8eOAV5w5hBCkqH2qC5hxo8De1bucFVhAqD60XELXaQNs987i2tfzaEWZMwnPAEqbEcGI/s1600-h/IMG_1226.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf0QCUgAu66i7P9dV2hRs9yGfX5tLbIrSYp-5ODFUamZieOoOUP55_I9sTm5ZaCCC83VtxdCW8eOAV5w5hBCkqH2qC5hxo8De1bucFVhAqD60XELXaQNs987i2tfzaEWZMwnPAEqbEcGI/s320/IMG_1226.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262438578247522402" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Last week the new addition was dedicated by a "distinguished Marriott School Alum" It was a nice dedication and it was fun seeing President Monson as he left the building.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7EBO5u-9tI2Z3NG8F6QjRTVjqqKom9VfaC2CMaywrfpe1Wk-5PIfQta4F0-hyhi9MnemXV9jq4Aq1-fCkLl3PD3crv6LE8X2UWXM-hrj-N-a6UTAJ1Iew8mm7SfQuTdJ1_0zjLqzyurg/s1600-h/IMG_1225.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; hei border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262439699676753650" ght: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7EBO5u-9tI2Z3NG8F6QjRTVjqqKom9VfaC2CMaywrfpe1Wk-5PIfQta4F0-hyhi9MnemXV9jq4Aq1-fCkLl3PD3crv6LE8X2UWXM-hrj-N-a6UTAJ1Iew8mm7SfQuTdJ1_0zjLqzyurg/s320/IMG_1225.JPG"/></a>Scottyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705334611820960948noreply@blogger.com1