Knock on wood

Don’t look now, but things are good at this moment.
I have the information for three stories yet to be written.
I have a lovely stack of photos waiting to be scrapped.
True, my children are threatening to kill each other. But, they want to watch “MythBusters” the old West tonight at 7 p.m. ~ so if they scream, slap, kick or otherwise abuse each other I have ammo to hold over their head. The penalty of bad behavior is they either miss MythBusters or they have to pick up 10 items off the floor. The house could use a good cleaning. I’m confident my restless one-day-away-from-school-vacation sons will be in a position to earn a lot of brownie points.

I've been thinking about the whole process of writing / scrapping. It has ups and downs. When it comes to writing I find the process of collecting information ~ ie calling people and begging them to talk to me ~ is a huge challenge. Once the initial interview has been either set up or accomplished, the rest is just good fun.
I have a better time with scrapping taking photos, but still, it’s a means to the end, the joy of putting the story together on paper. So my happy stack of newly-developed photos gives me all kinds of inspiration.
I had planned to scrapbook pages for my Dutch niece this week. But when I went to pick up photos I realized I had somehow failed to send the images of her in to be printed. I’m going to have to wait until my next trip to the photo counter before I can scrap her.
But I did get two pages put together over the last few days. I used the same paper family for both of them, but the Sugar and Spice page used a photo I lifted from my nieces blog, and the Pioneer Roots photo has been in my photo fills since July.
I never know when inspiration will hit.
Did I mention DH is home tonight, we don’t have anything baseball related planned and DS-As usual Thursday baseball game is a bye tomorrow. I am almost giddy with excitement.

Catching, witching and hair

We had a great Memorial Day weekend, but due to the crackerjack planning of the Tooele County School District after the three day break everyone returned to school for three more days.
DS-L’s sixth grade class was scheduled to go on a field trip to the local swimming pool for a communal dip with 500 of his closes friends. He didn’t want to go, so I went to school at noon thirty and picked up both boys.
Tomorrow is another short day and Thursday they will be let out of school at 1:05 p.m. for the summer. Does anyone have any idea why a school district would plan this kind of schedule? It can’t just be to annoy parents and teachers, can it?
This morning before going to pick up the DS’s I stood in the bathroom with my long wet hair stringing in front of my face and did something truly outrageous.
I trimmed my bangs.
It was a most bold move on my part. I have been subjected to many a failed home perm and botched haircut session at the hands of my mother, and thus long ago vowed never to touch my hair with anything sharper than a curling iron.
But I was the point of taking a razor to the stuff and shaving it off down to the roots. Keeping this in mind, the bang trimming was remarkably successful. I no longer have stringy, lanky bits falling in my eyes, and I don’t look like someone took after me with a weed whacker.
Thus buoyed by my success, I was tempted to try my hand at trimming the little Dutch girl locks of a boy playing against DS-A’s baseball team this evening. I know we’ve all seen kids like this. He has spit blond hair trimmed straight across just below eye level.
When he got up to bat his mother, a most charming, woman sitting in front of me, immediately started yelling at him because he swung at a high pitch, reminding the child he wasn’t playing tennis.
She continued with her most un-dulcet tone to rail against him whether he swung at the ball or not. When he struck out she fetched him over to the bleachers where she berated him for “playing like a girl.” I briefly thought if she did not want him to play like a girl, she might reconsider giving him a girl’s haircut.
Her nastiness to this boy made us all supremely uncomfortable, but no one, not even the burly guys with barbed wire tattoos on their biceps seemed willing to take her on. I thought about saying something to her, but I was pretty sure she would knock me cold. And as I was my children’s only ride home, I decided to hold my tongue.
But the game was fun for A. He was asked to play catcher for the final inning and had a glorious time. Between his catching and the pitchers pitching they managed to strike a couple of kids out.
The photos are of A playing with the newest toy in our backyard, a sprinkler that throws balls in the air. I think we had better get him a new – not white – swimsuit for this summer.

The Mirror of Erised

The Mirror of Erised is a mystical mirror discovered by Harry in a back corridor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. On it is inscribed, erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi — which, when reversed and correctly spaced, reads I show not your face but your heart's desire ("Erised" reversed is "Desire"). According to Dumbledore, the Mirror "shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts."

I am re-reading the Harry Potter series in preparation for a summer of new movies and books. In the past I have always read about the Mirror of Erished simply for what it is, a plot devise. But this time I started pondering what I might see in this magical mirror.
The truth is, I have everything I want … except.
I want to be more attractive.
I want to be more in control.
I want my house to be more clean.
I want more sleep.
I want more money.
I want more time.
I just want more.
I simply want perfection.
And I am a very long way from perfect.
No wonder I’m bummed out so much of the time.

Clothes horse

I should not be blogging. I have way too much to do. But I want to post some photos and do a little whining about my life, so you lucky folks get to read about it here.
Last night and this morning has been all about the clothing.
It’s spirit week at my sons’ school. They have been half-heartedly participating. A wore his baseball cap on hat day. On career day A said he wanted to be a “Mythbuster” and L suggested he could dress for the part by shaving off one eyebrow.
Today is sport’s day, and A insisted on wearing his baseball uniform. He had a game last night and was well pleased with the bright green grass stains on his knees. His plan was to wear the uniform with the stains, but when he climbed in the car to drive home he spilled his treat punch on himself.
I ended up rinsing out the pants so I could get the punch stain out, while avoiding a full wash and dry so we could keep the grass stains on the knee. This morning when he climbed out of bed I noticed he had been using his baseball uniform T-shirt as pajamas and as a tissue for his snotty nose. I stripped him, washed out the boogers and dried the T-shirt with my hair dryer.
Meanwhile, L has a world fair today in which he presents the country report on Israel. He’s been working on it for what seems like all winter. He was supposed to dress either in customary clothing of the country or in his Sunday Best. He opted for Sunday Best because it’s rather difficult to determine what would best represent Israel without being a little anti-Semitic.
We decided his white shirt and black pants can also double as a sports day uniform, he’s either Larry Miller or the member of a BYU sports team traveling to or from a sporting event.
DH is taking his students swimming today. This means he dug through the pile of clean (?) laundry to find his swimsuit. Now I have to reorganize the pile. He is also headed south for a family meeting and I have been charged with packing his luggage for the weekend.
I had planned to make the classic Mom Jello salad for a neighborhood going-away party / cook-out scheduled tonight. I don’t think I’m going to make it. I went shopping yesterday and picked up everything. But I bought big marshmallows instead of mini-marshmallows and I forgot to buy the pineapple. Besides, I’m running out of time. In addition to the packing I have to call all the high schools in the district for a graduation wrap-up story, attend L’s country fair, take photos of a golf tournament and dedication of a pavilion and try to get the house picked up so when DH brother comes to pick him up I don’t embarrass myself.
Oh ya, I need a shower, too.

As to the photos, they are my own version of “Where’s Waldo” I call it “Where’s Djin” she’s in all but one of the photos. Can you find her?

New blog, new baby

Just a quick note to let you all know I helped the last holdout in the family a.k.a. Hillbilly Sister create a blog. Here's the link. http://imlosingmymarbles.blogspot.com/
here she announces the arrival of her new grandson.

Another random memory

Another random memory photo
I love this way of scrapping, but the 6X6 pages are challenging!
Hidden journaling reads:

"My niece, Lisa, was going to college in St. George, Utah when she accepted Kerry's marriage proposal. I lived n St. George, but her mother was 500 miles away. Lisa and I spent one afternoon hitting the bridal shops. She tried on gowns and I took photos to send to her mother. I don't have a daughter and the afternoon with Lisa is probably as close as I will ever get to being mother-of-the-bride."

Freedom!

I’m free!
I’m free!
I’m free!
Yesterday I was released from my job in the Relief Society Presidency!
Now comes the wait for the other shoe to drop. What will they ask me to do next?
Activities committee?
Homemaking committee?
*gasp* Cub Scouts?
We are in the final countdown to the end of school.
It is assumed at DH’s second job that he will be working full time.
But, 40 hours a week have it all over 80 hours a week, so there’s a chance I’ll see him now and then.
I am taking on the most ambitious task of planning a chore / reward chart for the children to see if I can get them to help out with little things like picking up their shoes, unloading the dishwasher, putting away their laundry and emptying the trash.
There’s a chance I’m going to have a better summer this year than I did last year.
Maybe I’ll put the Sagy paint (which has been sitting in two gallon containers in the corner of the living room) on the wall.
Maybe I’ll get to SLC and buy a pair of jeans.
Maybe the boys will get swimming lessons.
Maybe not.
But the possibility exists.

Pushing the envelop

Zoo Haiku
Zoo’s tiny wildlife
Flutters by on spotted wing
I capture it on film


How’s that for pushing the envelop with my journaling?
Now for a visit from:
Carmic the Magician

The answer is: A day, a night and a day.

The question is: How long have I been wearing the clothing you currently have on your back.

Okay, that’s not precisely true. I just had a shower and put on something new. But my point is, I am not a shining example of high fashion.
I am barely an example of bag lady fashion.
Clothing, frankly, just don’t interest me.
When I was a child my own mother said I dressed like the waifs in those “feed this child” advertisements. It wasn’t her fault. She tired to clothe me in a civilized fashion. But I tended to grab the first two things that came into my hands and wear them.
Time has not improved my fashion sense.
True, I now know what colors and fabrics work well together. But once I am dressed I tend to forget my clothing. This accounts for the fingerprint size smudge of Staz On ink on the right knee of my one “good” pair of blue jeans ~ the flair legged ones, with gems on the back pocket. I’m sure if you have seen me sometime in the past year, you’ve seen these jeans.
Since I have been wearing the jeans nonstop for a year, they are starting to show their age and I no longer dare wear them out in public for fear of shredding them when I sit down.
I don’t want new clothes. But I need them.
Strangely enough, although I have no interest in fashion, I rarely miss watching “What Not to Wear,” sniggering at the “befores” and trying to guess what Nic is going to do with their hair.
Part of me thinks it would be a fabulous thing to take the $5,000 gift card and advice from Stacy and Clinton to remake my sorry wardrobe.
But then I realize I have no real need for cashmere sweaters and pointy-toed shoes in my “office” in the basement.
Sure, a nice suit would be great for those endless meetings, but it would be only a matter of time before I ended up with ink on the sleeve or ripped out the pocket while trying to get out of my car.
I also suspect a wool pant is not very comfortable when used as sleepwear.
Maybe if you had cartoon drawings of Sponge Bob printed on it ….

My place in life

Caption: in case you can not read it.
"Hamster-swallowing is simple when you use shortening and a shoe horn, as demonstrated by Al, a retired game show host."

There is something about this cartoon that appeals to my truly warped sense of humor. Back in the days when I worked for The Spectrum we regularly received packages full of these cartoons.
Other favorites included:

A sketch of a very large man crouched over a tiny table captioned “Ray looked forward to the day he could finally eat at the adult table”

A drawing of a man on a desert island, clothes line tied to the single palm tree and the other end clutched in his teeth with the caption: "Aside from the crushing boredom it was laundry day he hated most.”

An illustration of a middle age woman in a dress lying prone on the pavement, her practical purse clutched in front of her on her stomach with the phrase: “Having finally found her place in life, she was happy to just lay there in it.”

Alas, I have lost these three cartoons. I think I gave the adult table one to my “little” brother. I had the laundry day illustration hung above my washer and dryer in my condo in St. George and I’m not really sure what happened to the middle aged woman.
But I’ve been feeling very much like that poor, resigned soul as of late.
There are moments of brightness, however.
Tuesday the Bishopric came to our home. I can’t elaborate because the announcement has not yet been made official.
We only have something like seven days of school left. The downside is I will have children in the house who want entertaining, but the up side is my DH will be home more to help entertain them.
My boss called me in to talk to him today and after our discussion about what I wanted from my job, etc. he told me I’m getting a $1.50 an hour raise.

Yippy!

I then told him I had been considering applying for the Jet Blue job, but the raise offer tipped the scale in favor of my sticking around at the newspaper a little bit longer.
I’m still feeling rather settled in my place, but the good news does help a little bit.

This is another 6 x 6 inch random memory layout. It's taken me hours to put together. Funny, I thought the small format would yield faster page designs.

Dead tired

I put together this little layout last night on a a 6 X 6 inch page. I’m following the example set by someone else in my scrapping circle and working on an album featuring random memories ~ just because I don’t have enough things to scrap as it is.
I’m dead tired after a two hour planning and zoning commission meeting where numerous folks argued about rather or not a fitness center was an appropriate business to have in a neighborhood shopping mall.
(In my view, a fitness center is not an appropriate business to have anywhere ~ it’s indecent! That’s what it is, all those people sweating and lifting things. Why can’t they eat potato chips and watch LOST like any normal American?)
I had no idea I would be attending said planning and zoning commission meeting until about 90 minutes before the durn thing started. It’s a crossover beat. I cover Stansbury (location of said shopping mall) and another reporter covers Tooele County and business. Even though it hit two of his three beats, I was the lucky (?) winner appointed to attend the meeting on the one night in the month of May when I don’t have anything scheduled.
This morning I had a whole interesting blog written in my head about my sad wardrobe. But I didn’t get it written before my boss called, and I haven’t been able to write it since then.
Maybe tomorrow, after I write the exciting story of fitness centers and hamburger joints.

I'm thinking blue

Once again I’m pondering another possible career change.
It seems Jet Blue https://jetblue.recruitmax.com/ENG/candidates/
is hiring 600 people in the SLC area to work from home taking reservations. The pay is not great … in the $8 an hour range, but they do set up the computer equipment in your home and there is some flexibility. Employees can work anywhere from 15-40 hours a week.
According to the rumors you can set your own hours, get benefits like free air travel, and again, you get to work from home.
This is tempting to me because my current job has no set hours, no set time I am to work, and not as much flexibility as I originally believed it would have.
I’m thinking working a set number of hours on specific days would be a great improvement over my current job of loitering around the house while waiting for phone calls without being paid to do so. Plus, I would have a little more control over my hours.
I suggested it to DH as well. If he decided to pick it up and drop his current second job (which pays about the same) he would be home (albeit working) and he wouldn’t have to put nearly as much gas in his car to travel back and fourth. I just checked out the site, and they are looking for bilingual (as in Spanish and English speaking) employees.
As I write this, I just picked up a call from my job wanting me to put together three stories for a special section this afternoon. Did I mention my newspaper job is driving me crazy?

Gotta blog

This is Daisy. She comes with her new adopted parents to A's baseball games and entertains the crowd in the stands. I can't remember what kind of mix she is, A Shitzapoo or something along those lines.

The pressure is on. Now that I have induced most of my family members to blog, I have an obligation to post regular entries. I had some great ideas this weekend, but somehow I never made it into the basement and onto the computer.
I spend most of the weekend reading. DH ordered the third of the Percy Jackson series and it came in the mail Thursday. I, my DH and our DS-12 have all been reading it. I have also been reading the second Fablehaven book, which DS-12 checked out of his school library.
Saturday while I was cleaning the kitchen I happened upon a booklet of coupons and DS-12 decided we needed to go coupon shopping.
I clipped while he made the list. Among the 35 cents off toothpaste and soup, we found a buy one get one free Ghirardelli chocolate coupon and a buy one Subway sandwich get a second sandwich free.
Plans made, we went adventuring. We decided to go to Macy’s instead of Wal-Mart because Wal-Mart is in the middle of a remodel project and the place is more annoying than a swarm or gnats right now.
All went well at first. A pushed the cart, L checked the list and I supervised.
But when we came to the chocolate isle A became bored and started running off with the cart. We couldn’t find the chocolate, I was getting grumpy.
Bryers ice cream was on sale 2 for $5, and the coupon we had was for double churn ice cream. But the boys wanted bubble gum ice cream and I did not want double churn, (I opted for caramel, chocolate dipped pretzel instead).
Subway was not fun, after ordering the sandwiches I found out I had to buy soda with the sandwich in order to get the deal. It ended up costing more than I expected.
We managed to save $13.50 with the coupons, which we spend on the Subway sandwiches. True, we saved $1.00 on Bayer Migraine medicine, which I needed after the trip to the grocery story with my boys.
After staggering home, melting ice cream (we were in Subway a lot longer than I planned to be there) and cranky children I realized although we had saved $13.50 ~ we would have saved $85 if we had just stayed home and made sandwiches from the lunch meat I had purchased the day before.
We went out to dinner Saturday night because DH had to work on Sunday. It turned out to be a lovely evening. We ate on the patio because the restaurant was roasting hot. The food was good, it was cool and relaxing outside, and the evening was fine.
DS-8 woke me up early Sunday because he had made a little ceramic dish in school for Mother’s Day. It really is adorable.
All in all, I suppose I had a pretty good Mother’s Day.

Happy Mother's Day

Here’s a photo of my boys making me brownies. Now we know they can do it, maybe I won’t have to.
Hahahahaha.
*sigh*

A couple of things

Two Names I Go by:
1. Mom
2. Alleen

Two Things I am Wearing Right Now:
1. 5-year old kaki Capri’s
2. Dare T-shirt with a smiley face on it

Two Things I Want (or have) in a Relationship:
1. Love
2. Friendship

Two of My Favorite Things to do:
1. Sleep
2. Eat

Things I Want Very Badly At The Moment:
1. A week without working at the paper!
2. My husband at home

Two pets I have:
1. Djin the cat
2. That’s all, unless you count the boys

Two things I did last night:
1. Attended a three hour planning and zoning meeting
2. Wrote a planning and zoning story

Two things I ate today:
1. A gum-drop bunny from A’s Easter candy
2. A slice of toast

Two people I just talked to last:
1. DS-8
2. DS-12

Two Things I'm doing tomorrow:
1. Laundry
2. Paying bills

Two longest car rides:
1. From Montana to Afton with my friend and her new husband.
2. From Afton to California in a red Station Wagon when Karen was born.
Two Favorite Holidays:
1. Christmas
2. Easter

Two favorite beverages:
1. Dr Pepper
2. Cherry Coke

Two things I watched today:
1. ER
2. My son’s baseball game

Mommy's little shortstop

DS-8 had his first baseball game last night. DH didn’t have to work his second job, so he was able to go to the game. Good thing, too, because A’s coach is note necessarily interested in making sure anyone but his own (bratty) child gets plenty of play time.
DH noticed a couple of children were at their second time at bat and A still hadn’t had a shot, so he went over and asked what was going on. The assistant coach said, “I asked if anyone hadn’t had a chance to bat yet.”

Problem is, A is not the sort of child to speak up and demand his turn. DH is, particularly when it comes to our children.
After sitting through one more extra long inning A had his shot. He made some great hits ~ which is to say the bat made contact with the ball. True, most of them were foul balls, but he wasn’t fanning himself like so many other players.
He was on his final strike when the pitch went wild and hit A in the head. He had a helmet on, but the helmet came up and smacked him again. He was a tough guy, but didn’t really want to run the bases so the coach sent out a pitch runner.
Still, he had a great time.
He’s playing short stop. I always liked the position because you get plenty of action, but you don’t have the pressure of the pitcher or catcher.
One more thing, I know you are not supposed to make fun of kids, but notice the guy in the left hand side of the photo on third base. Don’t his pants look a little ~ high. I frankly don’t know how he managed to run, although truth to tell, he was not a great runner.
We didn’t get home from the game until almost 9 p.m., the boys bedtime. A is really thrilled with baseball but clearly it is going to cause some problems in the running of the household.

Then there was one

And now it’s down to One.
Bwahahahahahahaha!
That’s right, Little Brother has started blogging too. He even has photos of his athletic children. Here’s the link. http://alfsboy.blogspot.com/

Meanwhile, I’ve put together another page. The Asian look is a slight departure from my usual style and I’m not quite happy with the big block of light paper on the upper left hand side (I entertain suggestions) but the rest of the paper is pretty cool and the braid, “borrowed” from Mom’s stash is a great touch.
I couldn't take it anymore, I had to change the layout. True, I no longer have journaling on the page, but I cut the strip of journaling off and pasted it to the back of the layout.A has his first baseball game tonight and DH will be home to watch it with us. I’m hoping for a good evening with the family all together.

Lucy's story

Just a quick post to announce a new blogger on the scene, http://paperporcupine.blogspot.com/. I know, we thought it would never happen, but Wyo. Sister is now on board. Little Bro. and Hillbilly sister, you are the last holdouts.
Speaking of Hillbilly sister, when is your young' en going to make a granny out of you. I've been waiting for the anouncement every day. You will let me know, won't you. And send photos .... better yet, let me come and take some photos and scrap the little guy. (guy? right?!!)
I had an interesting experience today. The youth of our ward (starting at age 14, so DS-12 misses is, darn it!) are preparing to go to Wyoming for the Handcart Trek this summer. A few weeks ago we were asked to submit names of ancestors in the Willie and Martin Handcart companies. Apparently to personalize the trek, youth are asked to take on the name of members of the handcart company.
Yesterday the first counselor of the Relief Society told me her daugher had been given the name of Lucy Ward, my grandmother's grandmother. My children and I were invited to go to her house tonight and tell her daughter about Lucy. (DH was working, or I'm sure he would have gone with us).

For those of you unfamiliar with the story ... here's the report on the Willie Handcart Company site:

Lucy Ward
Willie Handcart Company
To each hundred there were five tents with 20 persons to a tent; 20
handcarts and one Chicago Wagon drawn by three yoke of oxen to hold provisions and tents, each person was limited to seventeen pounds of clothing and bedding.
The strength of the company was equalized as much as possible by
distributing the young men among the different families to help them. Several carts were drawn by young girls exclusively. Lucy was one of these. She had just turned 23 years old in May.
At this time, (6 Oct. 1856) the Salt Lake Conference was taking place and Brigham Young was sending a rescue party to the stranded handcart companies.
James Barnett Cole, went with them. One night he dreamed he would meet his future wife with the stranded Saints. He even was shown what she looked like.
She had a fur cap and a green veil tied over her cap to keep the wind off, she was very beautiful.
He told his dream to Brother [William} Kimball and he remarked, "We will see no beautiful girl with a fur cap and a green veil in these frozen
Saints."
Reminiscing, James Barnett Cole said that they saw the encampment just as the sun was sinking in the west. It looked like an Eskimo village which was fully a mile away. The snow was very deep and paths had been made from tent to tent giving the camp that appearance. It was located on a plain near the river.
When the people caught sight of the train coming, they shouted, they cried, they threw off all restraint and freely embraced their deliverers.
Just then, William Kimball caught sight of Lucy Ward in the green veil. He drove up to her and said, "Brother Jim, there is your dream girl." James asked her to get in the wagon and her reply was, "No I don't know you."
She got used to the idea of having him around, because on the way to Salt Lake, on November 2, 1856, they were married at Fort Bridger by William Kimball.
- Story or Lucy Ward by Ruby M. F. Hall,
Granddaughter

My brain has a mind of its own

I’m having a hard time writing this post because it’s about the tricks played by the unconscious mind.
As it happens, I have several events this week that have proven to me that I do not always know what my brain is thinking.
The above card is a good example of the way my brain works.
Earlier this week while cleaning up my scrap table I started playing with scraps and sewed the card together. I even put the “Inspiring” rubon on the bottom of it, but I really had no idea where the card was headed.
Yesterday I was getting ready to go to my scrapbook store and demonstrate the crop-o-dile* I wanted to find another example of the tool’s versatility, so I covered a chipboard “u” with paper and punch holes in it, threaded it with ribbon and attached it to the card. It was then I noticed the "u" and "inspiring" and the light bulb went off .. "u r inspiring".
People credit me with being a lot brighter than I really am because some part of my brain (I'm not sure if it's the left or the right) produces these little creative bursts without talking to the other part of my brain.
Please tell me I'm not the only one who has had this experience.
The other example of my brain work is not so pretty.
I’ve been feeling like a push me pull you at work since the old editor left and the new one was hired.
My old editor worked with my skills which, as it happens, is writting feature stories. The new editor is trying to make a hard news reporter out of me … it's been quite a struggle for both of us.
I know investigative reporting must be done, watchdog for the public and all that journalistic rot. But I really don’t like doing it, I’m not very good at it, and I'm think it is sometimes a little um, unnecessary.
Thursday after due prompting from the man I wrote another story and made a colossal mistake, the kind of mistake that has the superintendent of the school district (who happens to be my husband’s boss) calling me and telling me he is not happy, no, not happy at all.
Whoops.
By all rights I should be a quivering mess.
I’m not.
I owed up to the mistake, apologized to the head school guy, called my boss agreed that I had made a monumental assumption and eventually talked to the superintendent again and we appear to be friends again.
Through it all I felt, and I hate to say this but … vindicated? I knew deep in my little heart the pressure was going to get to me, I just didn’t know where or when. Now there has been a lovely little explosion and my fingers got singed.
May is shaping up to be a most interesting month.
*(a hole punching, eyelet setting tool that punches holes in everything from fabric to tin ~ really it does. I punched a hole in a clipboard with it last month!)

A purpled rainy day

It was hot last night, and the wind was blowing so much we closed the windows and turned on the air conditioner.
I had a rather difficult time sleeping.I woke up to a grey rainy day; with one of those all day soaker rains so rare and appreciated in my Utah desert home.
I have a perverse fondness for an occasionally rainy day. It’s the kind of day that leaves me with a desire to curl up with a good books and a plate of cookies. Since there were not cookies to be had in the house and I had a deadline this morning I didn’t get to indulge this impulse.
But the standing Thursday afternoon Relief Society Presidency meeting was canceled, which gave me a few extra hours this afternoon, always a bonus.
I used my extra time to go grocery shopping. I also dropped by Scrappily Everafter to pick up some materials for the make and takes I will be demonstrating Saturday for National Scrapbook Day. Once I figure it out, I’ll post a photo on my blog.
I noticed the raindrops on rose leaves this morning.

This afternoon when I was unloading groceries the sun came out and sent all the drops a sparkling. So I dumped the groceries on the table and went on a short photographic tour of my back yard.

As I wandered I discovered a bunch of blue/ purple / pink flowers. They seem to go together in kind of a photo essay, a purpled rainy day.

Or something along those lines.

Get ready for some baseball

I didn’t think I would manage to get a photo posted today.

I spent last night at an EPA superfund meeting listening to engineers discuss arsenic contamination in groundwater.

Don’t you wish your job was as exciting and glamorous as mine is? (snort!)
I woke up this morning with a blinding headache. It was so bad DS-8 volunteered to get me some meds as I slumped on the couch trying to get them ready for school.

After they left I dozed on and off until 8:45 a.m. when the superintendent of our local school district returned my call (of Monday morning). I talked to him for a while and managed to get enough information for a story.
I ended up with enough information for two stories before 9:30 a.m. Whahoo! That almost never happens anymore.
As my headache had subsided, I got all ambitious and emptied the dish washer, loaded it up again, made a batch of muffins (looks like we are out of flour ~ put that on the list) and ….

Drum roll please

Paid some bills!

The most despised chore of all time.
Unlike scrubbing toilets (which is plenty icky, so I don’t do it much)
And folding clothing (which is pointless, so I don’t do it at all)
If I don’t pay the bills I start getting threatening letters written in red ink and sometimes I find my cell phone or cable television doesn’t work anymore.
Not that I’ve ever had that experience, nosiree bob. I’m always right on top of that bill paying chore.
After wading through the paperwork, ordering new checks because I had run out of them and paying a couple other bills by phone because I had failed to order new checks, I was ready to write my story.
And I did write it for a while, until I had to feed the boys and take them to baseball practice.
I took the camera with me and managed to get this photo of DS-12 watching the practice. I’m grooving on the way the shadows fall on his face.

Now I need to write the other story, get the kids in bed, watch LOST and maybe even fit in a shower there somewhere before DH gets home from work at 11 p.m.
I wonder what I’ll photograph tomorrow.

But consider youself warned. I'm going to be at baseball practices or games something like four nights a week. There will be more baseball photos.

Starting a new photo a day

I went outside and caught a quick shot of the lilics blooming in the front of our house. This is the first year we have managed to get any blooms from the plants. I love lilics, they smell wonderful (kind of wish I had my sense of smell back again) and they are so pretty. What's more they remind me of home.