Dec 16, 2009

Pregnancy for Dummies

Hey, I am doing some research and would like to know:

What crazy advice have you heard or received for how to get pregnant? What tips or tricks did your great grandmother tell you they used to do back in the day? What weird, Old Wives Tale types of thing have you heard? My inquiring mind wants to know!

Dec 15, 2009

Christmas is Coming

I think cooking gets about 5% funner in the fall. Having it cold outside makes the warm of the kitchen inviting, and the foods are so delicious and comforting! I made sugar cookies last night and I was so excited I could hardly contain myself. The same thing happened while I was making white chili for dinner. It is simmering right now, and smells delicious! Oh, fall! I love you so!

I had a very happy childhood. I loved the holidays and have been trying to recapture the magic of those holidays as an adult and just haven't been able to. Until this year. Harrison has made everything magical, and it helps that he finally has some idea of what is going on. And it is just going to get more exciting each year! Every year of my married life I would get excited as fall hit and every year the holidays would disappoint me just a little. What I didn't realize is that, for all these years, what I have been waiting for is to celebrate the holidays as a parent. THIS is magical. THIS is what I have been waiting for. What could be better than this?

Dec 14, 2009

And a Merry Christmas to You too.

Richard is in the kitchen making candy right now. It is kind of his Christmas thing. It is what he does. What he is. And it is one of the main reasons I married him. Cuz a motorcycle AND candy making?? Irresistible. And delicious. So he is in there stirring a bubbly pot of sugary goodness and he is wearing an apron. A black, manly apron, lest you get the wrong idea. My mom gave it to him for Christmas a few years ago and he just doesn't wear it often enough. Because I like it. Apparently aprons work for me. But that's not all.

A couple weeks ago at his parents house he was wearing a headset to test it out for his mom. And I was nuts for it! I guess tech support reps are my cup of tea. Tech Support Guys and Fry Cooks. They say that women love a man in uniform, but I really didn't know this about myself.

But all of that is really beside the point. I just came to say Merry Christmas! And even though I never write anymore, I still like you a whole bunch and I hope your Christmas is swell!

Nov 29, 2009

A New Nativity

A few years ago I started to realize that in almost every nativity scene, Mary and Joseph are just looking down on Jesus in his manger. Gazing adoringly at him from afar the same as everyone else. And it started to bug me. Why wasn’t Mary holding Jesus? It is nice that they are worshipping him and everything, but he was just born! Why isn't she holding him? What mother would lay her brand new baby down in the hay and then just stand around with all her visitors and farm animals just looking at him? Ok, it really doesn't sound THAT weird, especially if he was asleep. But if they were going to be getting their pictures taken then OF COURSE she would pick him up.

This seemed so glaringly obvious to me, that I began a quest to search for, and ultimately buy, any nativity set I saw where Jesus was being held. They were rare, but I always managed to find a couple. However, in the last couple of years they seem to be everywhere. It has gotten to the point where I can no longer buy every one I see. I think I saw about 9 at one store alone last year. So I’ve decided to just buy one a year. This make me happy. My collection is growing but my husband doesn’t have to take up a paper route just to fund my crèche obsession.

And I found this nativity a couple of weeks ago, instantly fell in love with it and bought it.

Isn't it pretty?

When my husband got home from work, I excitedly showed it to him (because, like any man, if there is one thing he is interested in it is Christmas Decorations) and said, “Look what I bought!” And he said “Last year?” I said, “What? No, I JUST bought this.” He said, “You bought that last year.” Baffled and exasperated I said “WHAT?” He said “That is the one you bought last year.” Understanding finally dawned and I said “No…. wait, really? No, it isn’t. Is it? No it’s not!” And then Richard explained to me how last year, at the same time, I had excitedly shown him this very figurine, and it was now wrapped up with the Christmas stuff in the attic.

Well he is never wrong. I got this one at the Hospital gift shop, and suddenly could almost remember buying the last one at the Hospital gift shop too. Gee, it almost sounds like my holidays are spent in selfless service visiting the sick and afflicted. I wish that were true. I actually don’t remember why I was there, though I am sure that I WAS there. Yeah, obviously I have some memory problems.

So the other day, just to solidify my fuzzy thoughts, I climbed up into the attic and pulled out the Christmas stuff. And lo, what did I find but no nativity like this one. Not even one that was very similar. There was a white one that was about the same size and I am guessing that was the one he was thinking of, but I can't believe he so totally convinced me! It's like he planted the memory of me buying it twice in my mind with his words. Darn him and his Jedi mind tricks! What else has he convinced me of?

Nov 20, 2009

More Unrelated Thoughts

When I was in middle school (6th or 7th grade) I decided I really liked the song "Rock Lobster" by The B52's. So one night while I was at the mall with my friends (which really didn't happen all that often. Those were different times. The only time I ever went to the mall was during a slumber party) I bought their tape. I'm pretty sure it was the first tape I ever bought. It wasn't till I got home and started listening to it that I realized I must have made a mistake. The songs didn't sound right at all!!

Turns out what I bought was UB40, not B52s. (which is Reggae, instead of the slightly wacky party band sound of the B52s.) A common mistake, surely. One anyone could have made. You would think I would have at least checked to make sure I was getting the right B52's album, but maybe the possibility that they might have more than one album didn't even occur to me. So, what the hey? I kept it and listened to it all the time over the next few years. I've often wondered if I might have turned out differently if I had spent my formative years listening to the B52's instead of UB40. Someone should test this on their children, to see what happens.


You know those commercials for stuff that "isn't sold in any store", like paper cutters, can openers, mini hamburger cookers etc? They really want to stress that getting along without their product is nearly impossible, so to do that they show people having a hard time. And you always just see the hands. You'll see some hands trying clumsily to strain some spaghetti noodles, but they end up dumping the noodles all over the place. Or you'll see the hands trying desperately to cut out a picture but "cutting a strait line with scissors is almost impossible!"

These commercials have always made me laugh and laugh until today, when I realized that they are very sad. It is probably just one lady. She has been hired to do all these commercials, and she is trying her hardest, but nothing seems to be working out for her.

I made some hamburgers the other day, but when I tried to flip them over they just flew out of the pan. So I kinda know how she feels. Poor lady. Can't do anything right, and the whole world knows it.

On my Google Calendar, tomorrow is listed as towel day. Not like National Towel Day or anything like that. It is a calendar Item that I entered all by myself. What the what?


I had a dream last night that I started taking a gymnastics and deportment class (because everyone knows the two really go hand in hand) at a local community center. In the class we did things like going from laying on our backs to sitting up, gracefully. And from sitting to standing, gracefully. And all with a very large purse on our shoulder. Advanced stuff. Once we had mastered sitting and standing we worked on moving our purse from our right shoulder to our left, with a little flick and a flourish. I just know these skills are going to come in real handy some day.

Nov 18, 2009

I'm not writing this either.

So I have learned that I can either blog or clean my house and cook for my family, and I have chosen to cook and clean. (It isn't the right decision for everyone.) But I can't disappoint the masses! I mean, I would if I could, but I don't know how to reach them, so I will have to settle for disappointing you lot (er, I mean, you guys. Sorry, I've been watching a lot of Doctor Who). Just when you were thinking "Phew! No more to read from Elesa!" here I am again. I don't have anything new to write, but I have loads of old stuff that I started and never finished. So I will give you some of that. I gotta disappoint someone.

So here is something. I don't even know when I wrote this. I found it on my external hard drive. I don't think I ever posted this, did I?

I have been catching up on some old scrapbooking lately. Some really old pictures. Scrapbooking is always a time for reflection and a little nostalgia. But mostly wonder. Wonder at the way I used to be. Am I forever doomed to look back on myself in the past and shake my head? Must I always think “What was I wearing?” “Why did I act so dumb?” “I really left the house with my hair like that?” “Wow, thank goodness I am smarter now”.

I mean, it is nice and all, to know that I am much wiser with better style than I used to be. But still. I remember when I was in college, thinking how nice it was not to be in High school anymore. Boy, was I dumb in High School. Thank goodness I am so smart now. But NOW, I look back at myself in college and I think “Boy, was I dumb in College. Thank goodness I am so smart now.” Only now am I beginning to realize that the chances are that in 5 years I’ll look back on myself now and think “boy, was I dumb”.

I guess it is good that I am still growing and learning. And what a shame it would be if I reached the height of my wisdom at 30. But I am smart enough now to realize how dumb I really am, and probably will be for a very long time. Which is kind of a sad thought.

I am Elesa. I am dumb. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

I Don't Write Anymore (and this is no exception)

The wider my readership gets (We just jumped to 6!) The more difficult it becomes to write stuff. I feel like too many of you will think my stuff is dumb. And you might. But that is the risk I run when I post things online for the world and my Ward to read.

Today, I don't much care. I've got this stuff that I've never published because I know it is dumb. But I am going to publish it now because it makes me laugh. And that is what really matters. That's right. Not any of you sorry suckers. But me! ME!

And I was just about to apologize for what comes next, because I KNOW I have done it to death, but I'm not gonna! Let's just agree that if you are bored, you won't read it and I can continue to write mind-numbingly stupid things in blissful ignorance. That is the dream you know. THE dream.

Back when I was doing all that translation stuff(and at this point it behooves me to once again mention Lance, who did it first), this is the first thing I wrote to translate, but decided that it was too long for my purposes. Lucky for me and my fancy I kept it, and here it is:

Lost in Translation The Story in English:

Here is a story. It is a good one too. You just hold on to your hat because this may be the best story you have ever read. I hope not though, really, because that would be a pretty sad commentary on the stories you have come into contact with in your life so far. Pretty sad!

So, once upon a time, there was this monkey's uncle. (Once monkeys become uncles they are no longer referred to as monkeys, but as uncles of monkeys. It is a high honor to reach this stage of life, and the term is one of deep respect.) So, this Monkey's Uncle, whose name was Milton (though he preferred to be called Sir Milton, the Monkey's Uncle, which everyone thought was a bit too pompous, even for him) was walking through a charming grove of trees admiring the wildlife, when he suddenly found himself falling into a hole.

"Great Gravity!" he exclaimed, with more dignity that you or I could manage under such circumstances, and landed in a heap. He untangled his remarkably long arms from his unremarkably short legs and looked around at the pit he now found himself in. It was not much to look at -- pits never are -- and cleared his throat. He remained dignified, despite his surroundings, until he discovered that, in falling, he had landed on and crushed beyond repair his Top Hat. It was his favorite one too.

With that, he plopped himself down and had a good long cry. And I say, Good For Him! If you can't bawl like a baby at the bottom of a ten foot hole in the ground, where can you?

English to Japanese to Chinese to German etc.

Here it is a history. This is a good idea. Because perhaps, this is the story where a certain thing which you read is best, it hangs on exactly in your hat. I hope no however, really, because these would be enough sad comments in the histories to get in touch with the past in your life. Enough sad!

Thus, did a time and a time, exist this uncle of the monkey. (As soon as the apes become divine they are not reported more as apes, but as uncles of apes. It is the high reputation in order to achieved this stage of life, and the term of from profound respect.) Thus, this uncle of the monkey, which name was Milton (even if it is telephoned Sir Milton, the Monkey the uncle, we all thought it was a bit too exaggerated, Monkey you liked.) walked even excessively via an enchanting orchard admiring the wild nature, when he was found suddenly in the hands of a hole.

"The Large One Seriousness!" He exclaimed, it could manage him in such a case, and landing with the accumulation many dignity, you shouted. The impressively large untangled the arms of his short foot and take a look into the pits. He was not a lot in order to it examines - it is not never - and cleaned his neck. He remained decent, despite his outskirts, until it discovered that, as for him with the falling, it had been landed, and had shattered beyond the repair, his flattery. This is his favorite one.

In this way he fell with a splash. With this, it had a good long-lasting cry. And I am good because of that, you say! If you cannot scream like a child to the fund of a hole of 10 legs in the ground, is possible somewhere, you yell?

Nov 2, 2009

Yard Work

Raking up the yard is hard work. . .

But totally worth it!

Oct 28, 2009

Family Pictures

Thank goodness for Christmas cards, or we might never get a real family photo taken. My sister Faemarie was nice enough to take our pictures this year. I tried to pay her in cookies, but she wouldn't let me.

It wasn't the plan, but because of lighting, and parks being closed for the winter (even though it was only the middle of October) we ended up at the Gun Club/Shooting Range. Such a lovely, family-friendly environment for picture taking. I knew Harrison wasn't going to love posing for pictures, so I told Fae to just take as many pictures as she could as fast as she could until Harrison lost it. He was done as soon as I picked him up to take the very first picture. So we had to get creative. We spent a lot of time posing for pictures around this bulldozer:

which only sortof worked. He loved playing in the bucket, but getting him to look at the camera was tricky. We tried hiding behind the bucket walls, counting to three and then popping out to surprise the camera. Harrison thought it was great fun and smiled a lot. But it turned out to be pretty hard to get good pictures of Richard and I. Either we had a hard time getting our faces in the picture at all,

or else I would forgot to wipe the crazy off my face before she snapped the picture:

We did lots of swinging: (Harrison calls the following picture "Mad Daddy")

But Harrison spent most of his time doing this:

So we gave up and took pictures without him for a while,

which was boring.

Our last plan was to to tell Harrison that on the count of three, we were all going to scream. He thought that was a swell idea. Of course, Richard and I were supposed to smile while screaming, but it was kind of hard to look Natural:

And when Harrison started licking his daddy's face, we knew it was time to call it quits.

Merry Christmas Cards!

Oct 27, 2009

That is Just Sick

All right. Here is the scoop. The skinny. The scuttlebutt. Someone very close to me may or may not have the Swine Flu. Not that I would tell you if they did. And I certainly wouldn't post it on the internet. That would be way too embarrassing.

Why, you ask? What is the big deal, you ask? Because it is called the SWINE flu. Which basically means that you are a dirty pig. Might as well call it the Germ-infested Mud-hole flu, since it feels about the same. Why couldn't it be called something tragically romantic, like Scarlet Fever? I've always wanted to get Scarlet Fever. Doesn't it sound lovely? Dying from Scarlet Fever is right up there with dying from a broken heart on the romance scales.

The Swine Flu Council really screwed themselves over when they decided to name this strain of Influenza after pigs. I don't care if it did start out as a pig virus. Nobody wants to have an infectious disease named after a barnyard animal. No one really minded coming down with the Bird Flu, but Mad-Cow disease? No way. Sure, they often use the designation "H1N1", which is like sugar coating bat guano, because if you tell someone you have "H1N1", their first thought is always "Oh, right! That's that dirty pig disease! Stay away from me!"

Over the years the Disease Naming Committee in Washington, D.C. have made lots of similar disease naming mistakes. Don't they know what they are doing? Can't they see that it is all in the name? The real problem with Swine Flu is not its symptoms, but its name, and it is not the first disease to be maligned this way--Cat Scratch Fever? Who'd want to catch that?--while on the other hand, people are falling all over themselves to catch diseases like Anthrax, just because they sound so cool. Then there is Gas Gangrene, which is just adding insult to injury, but African Sleeping Sickness really sounds exotic! Canefield Fever? I don't know what that is, but it sounds nice. Dum Dum Disease? Well really! Who wants to tell their friends that diagnosis! And we still have to look out for Jock Itch, Lemming Fever, and Oral Hairy Leukoplakia.

So what's the take home lesson? CDC, if you want people to want to succumb to these diseases, you are going to have to step things up a bit. Use exciting words like "Jazz", "Spaceship", "Magic" or "Cash". Look at Rock and Roll Lyrics if you are out of ideas. Who doesn't want to come down with a raging case of The Boogie Woogie Blues, or Jungle Fever? Come on! Have fun with it!

To recap; Barn yard animals: Bad, glamorous vacation destinations: Good. Use words that compliment the infirm, like Smallpox, instead of derogatory words, as in Largepox or Dumb-n-Uglypox. Avoid words that make people giggle; while Swimmer's Ear is ok, Swimmer's Itch is definitely not. And when in doubt, use a different word altogether; Traveler's Diarrhea is questionable, but Traveler's Flux gets two thumbs up from me!

So Come On! Let's all work hand in hand to raise awareness of the danger of diseases with humiliating names. Together, we can come up with illnesses that people will be proud to get, and prouder to share with their friends and family!

Oct 19, 2009

The New Shed So Far

You might be surprised to learn that not only did we plan to build a new shed, but we actually started building it. I think Richard started on September 19th.

Leveled the ground. Placed cinder blocks and gravel as supports. Leveled some more. Built floor. Built trusses for roof. Built walls. Put the walls up.

I'm pretty sure Harrison liked it better without any walls. I know the local cats did. Every time I looked outside there was a different cat sitting right in the middle of the floor, like it was sitting on a throne.

On Saturday, 10/17/09, Faralee and Charlie came and helped us put the trusses up. And thank goodness they did, because we never could have done it by ourselves! Only a few things left to do!

Won't be too long now! It is supposed to snow this week which is going to put a cramp in things.


For a while now we have been talking about building a new shed. The one we have right now is an aluminum shed that came out of a box. It has served us for 5 years. We put it up at night, in the pouring rain. I guess we were pretty desperate for a little storage space.
But we have out grown it. I wish I had taken a picture of it before. It was full to bursting. Holding the two mantles we pulled out of the house, a few huge bags of insulation, and a million other odd items.

Saturday, we decided it was time to clean the Shed out. And, in doing so, decide once and for all if we needed a new one. So we pulled everything out of it and separated it into categories:
Boy, this picture just doesn't do it justice. There was so much crap in there! And we got rid of quite a bit, but there was still all of this left.

Like this pile of gas-cans for instance. They say you can never have too many.

I'm not sure it is true though. They seem to be multiplying!

Here we have a pile of automotive bric-a-brac. Can I use that word when I'm talking about car stuff? I think the car lovers of the world might object. But too bad. I'm not even sure what most of this stuff is.

Then we have this:

Gee, do you think I have enough pots there?

And finally, some camping stuff. The one pile of crap that we actually use. Good for us!

Of course, that isn't everything, but you more than get the idea. We pulled all the stuff out of the shed and spread it all over the yard, grateful that it was such a sunny, cloudless day, so that we could leave it all out there for a while.

Then Richard hoisted the tin shed up on his massive forearms, and carried it across the yard. We want to build the new shed right where the old one was. The new one is going to be twice as big, and tall enough to stand up in. I'm pretty excited.

Elesa's Remodeling

So, it may not be considered "remodeling" or "work", but I did it all by myself. First thing in the morning I hung up my broom rack. It is made to attach to drywall, but I really wanted it attached to the fridge. I wasn't sure how to do so, but finally thought of using these spiffy hooks that attach with double-sided tape.

And Voila!

Good Times.

Yeah, it has been a year...

I know.I would apologize, but that is sort of like apologizing to my diary for not writing often enough, so let's just move on.

OK, let's take stock of the house and just see where we are?

Last October, General Conference time, Richard put the last window in the Kitchen. Harrison helped.

Then we finally got back to the crawl space. We got it all dug out the summer of 2007, but didn't get back to it until the fall of '08. Richard had to do so much stuff down there. I couldn't even begin to tell you what. Cuz I don't really know. All I know is he spent every Saturday crawling around under the house and having himself a real swell time/hating life.

When it was ready for cement, Richard wheeled the gravel in by the wheel barrel full, pushed it up a ramp and dumped it through the window. So here it is, all gravel-covered:

Then we covered it with plastic and on Dec. 23rd we rented a cement mixer and poured cement in the crawl space by the shovel full. Good times. So here it is. Richard sealed the walls and then cemented them too. In this picture the floor has been put down in the room above and everything.

Oct 8, 2009

Best Read After Midnight

Harrison and I went on a little Pumpkin Picking field trip yesterday, after which they gave us doughnuts and coloring books. Score! And I guess I was just tired enough that I found the coloring book hilarious and couldn't stop giggling about it all the way home.

Here are a few of my favorite pictures out of it. No doubt I am breaking several copyright laws:

Oh boy, yeah. I can totally relate to this girl. Hasn't this exact thought passed through all our minds at one time or another?

Hey! I took that class! I paid $250 for the book at the beginning of the semester and the bookstore would only buy it back for 10 bucks when the class ended. Such a ripoff!

Ooh, but here is a little something thrown in just for Mom!

I never knew pumpkin farmers were so. . . shirtless. I'm starting to gain a whole new respect for October.

Truly, there is no more romantic moment in a young girl's life than being helped down off a gargantuan pumpkin by her beau. Yes, there really is no squash more dreamy than a pumpkin. Did Cinderella ride to the ball in a giant zucchini? Of course not. Because zucchinis are as ridiculous as pumpkins are regal.

Here is a little guessing game! Who in the above picture is thinking the following: "Boy, if you laugh at one more pumpkin today, I swear on my candle I will hunt you down and bring down a hurt on your hairy little head like you have never known!!"

And, lastly, this little gem:

Note the caption. Ironically, that is also eHarmony's new slogan. What are the odds?

Incidentally, Harrison loved the pumpkin patch, and loves the little pumpkin he brought home. He set in front of the heater all day so that it wouldn't get cold and is sleeping with it right now. Aww.

Oct 1, 2009

I Was Betrayed By the Internet

My computer is the biggest time/brain suck in my life. Example:

I will be in the middle of making dinner, and trying to figure out what time to have everything done by, and will sit down at my computer to IM my husband and ask him what time he is getting home.

But when I sit down, Gmail pops up to tell me that I have a new email from LDS Family Services telling me about the next Adoption Workshop we need to attend, so I will open my email just for a second to read that one message. And then I see an email from Facebook telling me that Marion has just tagged me in a picture, so I gotta check that out really quick, and because it is a truly horrible picture, I figure I need to retaliate by posting a bunch of humiliating pictures of her, so I scan in some of my own pictures (which I'm sure will only take a minute). While those are scanning I jump back over to my email and see an ad for discounts on lawn chairs, which reminds me that I have been wanting to look at a new bedding set, so I will start searching to see if I can find any good deals online. I end up at Amazon, and when I add something to my cart I see all the movies I have added in the past, which makes me wonder; When is Sherlock Holmes coming out? So I take a quick trip over to to see what movies are coming out in the next 6 months or so and end up watching movie trailers for the next half hour and then see that there is a movie coming out starring that kid who played Erkle and I wonder if he has done anything else in the last 20 years, so I stroll on over to IMDB where I am sucked into a wormhole.

Before I know what has happened HOURS have past, Richard is home from work and passed out from hunger in front of the TV, and Harrison has figured out how to make a bomb out of flour, paprika, and a toilet plunger, and actually managed to blow up the kitchen. And that is without me even peeking at anyone's blog.

I wish this were an exaggeration, but it is true! I sit down for 1 little thing, and before I know it, an hour has passed, I have no idea why I sat down in the first place and my real, actual life is passing by around me, while my brain has basically shut off! How am I supposed to live like that? And now I have no kitchen!

Needless to say, I really try not to get on line much these days.

Ok. And that isn't ALL true. In that scenario Richard would never let himself pass out from hunger. He is perfectly capable of getting his own food. He probably would have eaten 5 or 6 bowls of cold cereal and some pepperoni and called it good.

Sep 21, 2009

Eating in the car? Yes or no?

Ha. Just kidding. Of course Yes! What else am I supposed to do? Drive? Pay attention? Let's don't be ridiculous here. Everyone's favorite car activity is eating, and that is more true for children than for anyone.

But I am far too conscientious to give my child something like goldfish crackers or cheerios to snack on while we are on the road:

That's a bowl o' mashed potatoes. Food that sticks to your ribs, that's how we do it. When he finishes those off, I'm going to pass him back a steak (medium-well) and then a head of lettuce and a bottle of ranch. He's a lucky, lucky boy!

Sep 16, 2009

Robot Bedding

Harrison has finally started sleeping in his new bed (for a while he was falling asleep in the rocking chair in his room) and I finished his bedding.

And I know. I am probably committing some huge designing faux pas by mixing my decor like this. His room now has robots AND rockets. I like to walk on the wild side!

Sep 14, 2009

Jean Therapy

Today I took a little trip to Buckle, in the mall. I need new jeans. In a bad way. And Buckle has always been there for me when I've needed jeans in the past. I like their jeans, but what I like BEST is that they carry jeans in multiple lengths, so I can get jeans as long as my heart desires. Jeans that go all the way to the floor. Jeans that go past my feet. Jeans that don't quit, if I feel like it.

So I went to Buckle, and grabbed about 10 pair of jeans to try on and went into a dressing room. I had a 2 year old with me, of course. Why would I want to go shopping without one? While I tried on pants, Harrison alternated between opening the door right when I had my drawers around my ankles, or hanging from the railing in the room and screaming "MA!!" as loudly as he could. Good times.

But unfortunately, I didn't find a single pair of jeans I liked! And I'm afraid that the reason is that I am too old to shop at Buckle anymore. I was sure I would find the perfect pair of jeans, but all the jeans had funky washes and very funky pockets. I am just too old to walk around with stars on my bum!

So when I got home I vented my frustration to Richard. Either I have aged more than I thought in the last couple of years, or jeans are just a lot more blinged-out than they used to be. I just need somewhere I can find nice jeans designed for a woman, in multiple lengths and sizes, but where can I go?

Richard's oh-so-helpful answer was:

Sep 2, 2009

My Bag Runneth Over

I decided that today felt like a good day to take a break from "Eureka" and do me a little writing. But only a little. I have a lot of "Eureka" episodes to watch, and I know where my priorities are.

So I been needin' me a new temple bag. (a.k.a. the bag I hold my items in when I attend The Temple.) The old one was too small. Cute, but failing in its most basic function, which is to hold my stuff. I have been putting off finding a new bag because I just didn't feel like it. Besides that I already have tons of bags. More bags than my husband has watches, which is really saying something. Why should I go pay money for a bag when I have a plethora taking over my closet as it is?

So the other day I pulled out every unused bag I could find so that I could choose one to be my new temple bag, and wouldn't you know, they are ALL too small! Who'da thunk? I was as shocked as I know you are at this point, but still not wanting to spend any real money to get a new one, I took a trip to D.I. And, as usual, I found just what I was looking for.

Not bad for $1.50, I say. My loot all fits inside and it zips up and everything. And it doesn't smell like poo at all.

I was pleased with my find, and figured while I was there, maybe I should get a new temple bag for Richard too. He is always complaining that his is covered with axle grease, or carburator juice or something like that, and wouldn't I just be the most thoughtful wife if I brought him home a new bag too?

Well, I am good at finding things, diamonds-in-the-rough are my specialty and I found just the thing for Richard's new temple bag!

Imagine my surprise when Richard said he didn't want it. I think his actual words were "Get that plastic thing away from me." I swear, I was never so shocked in my life. Where is the love?

Aug 29, 2009

Shelf Life?

I went to all the trouble to get Harrison a new bed, and where do I find him sleeping?

And of course he had to pull down every single item off his shelves to be able to get up there.

I'd like to think the expression on his face indicates some kind of remorse for his actions, but I know better.

Aug 23, 2009

You Got a Little Something... No, Not There... Not There.. Yep, That's It. You Got It.

Yesterday I had a night out with some of my friends. My "girlfriends" technically (in that they are female) but I have always hated that word. Or I've hated being forced to specify the gender of my friends every time I mention them. But anyway! We went out to dinner. And lucky me, we went to Tepanyaki! I think I've mentioned before how much I like it.

Our chef - or whatever you call him - was awesome. Very young and funny and good at chopping meat. Good looking too, though I've always been a sucker for anyone wielding an enormous knife. But then he started smiling at me a lot and said something about my mouth. That was just weird. And that's when I looked down and noticed I wasn't wearing my wedding ring! I gasped in dismay and horror. Oh No! Taking off my ring must have deactivated my film of oldness! No wonder he was giving me the eye! Men would be powerless beneath my gaze!

I immediately went into Maximum Male Repellent Mode, and started biting my fingernails, snorting audibly, making loud references to my husband, and belching theatrically in hopes of deterring him (and I never do that stuff under normal circumstances). And it worked like a charm! I could almost see the hearts in his eyes fade out and die. I would be getting no proposals of marriage that evening!

So I was congratulating my obviously irresistible self on dodging a bullet as I dashed into the ladies room on our way out. When I looked in the mirror it occurred to me that when he mentioned my mouth, what he was actually referring to was my chronic dribbling, which he probably thought was cool. (Some people must like it - the dribbling I mean - or there wouldn't be all those Rest Home Casanovas, and we know there are.)
Cuz see my shirt?

It did not look like that when I left the house. I am almost 89% positive. So, yeah. Look out, folks. Contrary to everything you believe, being a shockingly messy eater might actually be considered attractive to the opposite gender, so watch where you are drooling. And if you are in the market, you might want to think about serving corn-on-the-cob and watermelon at your next single adult activity, and just see if that doesn't get people in the mood!

Aug 17, 2009

The Corn Conundrum

I love Corn-on-the-Cob Season. I look forward to it all year. You want to know my favorite thing about corn on the cob? Butter. Yep. It's true. I'm sorry to say it, (Well, not that sorry. You all feel the same, I know you do.) but butter is actually the best part of most vegetables. However, there is no other vegetable that I get to eat with quite as much butter as corn. And for that, I adore it.

I always eat my corn the same way. Left to right, like a typewriter, holding the small side in my left hand. Then I butter a strip about 4 kernels high, salt it the proper amount, and eat it like a little chewing machine: nom, nom, nom, until -DING!- I get to the end. Then I butter the next strip and do it again. I was wondering why I only butter one strip at a time until I watched Richard. He butters the whole thing at once, and ends up with all this butter dripped all over his plate. Not me! With my method I don't waste a single drop of that precious yellow substance. And I feel good about that. (Course, one could always lick their plate afterward, but that is a personal choice, and too controversial a subject to be discussed here.)

I asked Richard if he has a specific way he always eats his corn and he said "Fast."

Here is the problem with corn though. Hand in hand with cobbed-corn goes BBQ's. We say we are celebrating all these summer holidays when we get together, but really we are just celebrating the corn. At least I am. But the problem is, corn-on-the-cob is not really a food that should be eaten in mixed company. For one thing, it really isn't a pretty sight. Take me for instance: Imagine a wild board eating a slice of watermelon, and you'll have a pretty good picture of what it looks like when I eat corn on the cob. (Which can be quite a shock to someone seeing it for the first time. I am as delicate and graceful as a flower in every other way.)

And then of course, at this group gathering, right in the middle of your corn fest, someone will walk up and ask you a question.

"Hey Elesa! What the heck is up with your toes? They are super weird looking! Tell me the story?" So I come up from my cob, like a predator interrupted in the middle of eating his prey, and attempt to chat like a normal person, fully conscious of the corn kernel carcasses dangling between each tooth, and the butter dripping down my chin. So I either have to try to talk while hiding behind my cob, or just act like it totally doesn't bother me, and like I could talk with corn in my teeth and butter on my face all day if I felt like it, and still be very awesome and ladylike.

I don't know which option is better. I don't know how to solve the quandary that is corn. I just know that I'm not sure I want to be ok with socializing while my face is covered with food. I grew out of that in like the 9th grade. But I also don't want to have to set down my corn mid-cob and have to wipe my face and floss my teeth just because someone wants to make small talk. I have no idea how long that conversation is going to last. What if my corn is cold by the time they wander off and I get to pick it up again?

But what can we do? Must we eat our corn in our closets? Or will we be forced to cut the corn off our cobs so that we can eat it the way them High Society Folks do, with a fork?!?

Aug 13, 2009

The Fat Alarm

Our smoke alarm is really more of a fat alarm than anything else. The only time it ever goes off is when we are frying food. There is never any smoke. Never any fire. No cause for concern at all. But that stupid white disc attached to my ceiling starts beeping the minute I throw something in a pan of oil. And if we are deep frying, it continues to go off about every 5 minutes. To which I take umbrage! What right does that little battery operate contraption have to pass judgment on the food I eat? If I wanted to eat a whole vat of fat (and come on, who doesn't?) I should be able to do so without my household safety devices giving me grief about it.

Though now that I think about it, I wonder if The Fat Alarm would sell? We could call it "Lard Alert", or "The Blubber Buzzer", or something super catchy like that. Would people pay money for a doohickey that reminds them that they are making poor food choices? What if, instead of beeping, it said things like"Are you sure you want to eat that?" or "Step away from the Frying Pan!"? My smoke alarms are all linked so that if one goes off for a certain amount of time, the others throughout the house go off too. The would be a good feature in the Fat Alarm too. So that if you try to sneak in some deep fried twinkies late at night, your spouse, who is watching "Conan" in bed, will be sure to know about it.

Aug 7, 2009

Adventures in Decorating: A Few Lessons Learned While Painting A Bed

Well, my two year old figured out how to climb out of his crib. I actually thought this day might not ever come. He is very little. The crib walls still come up to his armpits. I thought we were safe. But one night we put him to bed, grabbed the baby monitor and went to work in the yard. And when we came back in the house an hour later he was wandering around the living room! He had not only figured out how to escape, but he had also done it without making any noise at all.

So, obviously, it was time. I wanted to go out and get him a bed, but Richard said he wants to build one. That is fine. It will no doubt be very awesome. Whenever he actually gets around to it. Someday.

We put his little mattress on the floor, but I thought the whole GOING TO BED thing might be more effective if it looked more like a bed, so I convinced Richard to let me get a little something, just until he has time to do his building. So I found a cheap little metal thing on KSL and made it mine!! Then I bought a can of spray paint at the local 5 and dime, and got to work. And I learned things about painting a bed that I didn't know before. And I want you to know them too. So HERE:

  1. Obtain a bed. You might think that this step goes without saying, but let's stay on the safe side, and say it anyway. Just in case. And don't spray paint the mattress. We're talking about the bed frame here. Again, this should be a given, but I find it is safest to cover all our bases.
  2. Sand away any rough patches and imperfections on the bed frame. Lightly sand any existing paint so that new paint will stick to it. This only took me about 30 minutes to do. It would have been even faster, but I sanded for about 15 minutes using the wrong side of the sand paper, so I had to do it over again.
  3. Use the right side of the sand paper.

  1. As much as possible, work out on your front porch or in the front yard so that your neighbors and passersby will think you are a hard worker. Dramatically wipe your brow from time to time so that they will take pity on you and offer you a cold glass of lemonade.
  2. Protect those surfaces you DON'T want painted. I laid a sheet of plywood down so that I wouldn't get paint all over the ground. Our "Lawn" is pretty (see fig. 1), and must be protected at all cost.
  3. Just Go For It: This was really my first time spray painting. (Not counting back in the day, when I used to spray paint things under the overpass, like "Modest is the Hottest" and "Have you see my Cat?" and things like that.) But I figured I really couldn't mess it up. What could be easier? All I had to do was press a button and wave my hand around. And I've been doing that with the TV remote for years!
  4. Do 2 or more LIGHT coats: About 3 minutes into it I realized that I COULD mess it up and I probably already had. That stuff coats fast and it will start dripping down the sides before you know it. That is when you thank your lucky stars that you only paid $15.00 for this silly bed and it really doesn't matter that much!!!
  5. Overestimate. I figured it would take me about a half a can of spray paint to do the bed, and planned to have enough left over to paint a little set of table and chairs as well. I was wrong of course. It took me a little less than 4 cans of spray paint. And because I kept figuring that SURELY this can would do it, I had to go back to the store 3 times. Argh!

But now it is done! The little boy is thrilled which is worth every minute spent. And if we stay a nice comfortable distance away it really looks pretty good. And with the white sheet and pillow on it it reminds me of a bed in a mental institution. Which is rather fitting.

Welcome home, Bed.

Aug 5, 2009

Adoption Picture Collage

Back in the day (yes, clear back in January when we were filling out our adoption application), they used to have couples make photo collages; a couple of scrapbook pages filled with pictures of themselves for the agency to keep in a binder to show to potential birth mothers. In fact, it was the picture collage that led Harrison's birth mother to us, so I think they are swell!

But times are changing and LDS Family Services does almost everything online these days. And the word on the street is that they aren't using the collages anymore. That is all fine and good, but I spent forever on mine and I don't want them to feel rejected and useless. So Here They Are:

Aug 4, 2009

So Far This Summer

We've squeezed in a trip to Lagoon...
where the fountain was Harrison's very favorite thing;

We did some swimming in the jungle behind our house (some of us swam more than others);

Harrison was actually willing to pose for some pictures for once;

We watched some Fireworks...
from as faraway as we could get;

Harrison learned how to climb out of his crib...
so we had to put his mattress on the floor till we could get another bed;

We went to a family reunion at Lake Walcott, ID...
where rock painting was one of the main events (Harrison wanted a turtle);

We posed for a picture next to a tractor at the Ward Campout;
And threw an impromptu summer birthday party for Harrison. This way our huge families don't have to try to find time in their busy December schedules to come to another party.

Yep, it has been a great summer so far!