My Boys

On Mother's Day I didn't feel much like sitting at the table with my guys while we ate dinner.  (My legs were sore from having tubes shoved up my veins.)  So I laid on the couch and watched them eat.  That's the scene above there.  

I love those five guys.

I love that Drew eats sauerkraut like it was a dare.

I love that Ethan is so laid back.  

I love that Cameron always tries to lighten the mood if anyone's having an off day.  (Even if it comes back to slap him in the face sometimes.)

I love that Trent doesn't care about anything but having fun.

I love that Andrew is so smitten with his kids.

And I loved that they all decided that plates were an extravagance that they didn't need in order to eat their hot dogs.  After all, the table is like one big, community plate.  Right?

Mrs. Beutler, You Are Divine.

Last summer, a lovely lady wrote a blog post about one of her special places.  It made me swoon, and I was instantly in love with this woman.  In a kindred spirit kind of way.  Today, I finally got to visit this special place of hers, and it instantly became one of mine, too. 

I have a thing for cemeteries and prisons.  I'm strange like that.  But not just any cemetery.  I like a cemetery with intrigue and character.  One that whispers secrets in a strange tongue with each breeze that rushes by.  One with an air that steals the cares of this world from your mind as you inhale the memory of people gone before.  One that sounds like reverent life and emptiness at the same time.

I decided that if I could live in Park City, (preferably in this house, which happens to be for sale),

I would go to Glenwood every day to read.  To think about spring flowers.  To remember my grandmother.  To be still and calm.  

But for now, I suppose I'll just have to find another cemetery closer, and save this one for special occasions.  Maybe one day, I'll find Crystal there!

Mom, I'm Bored!

I took some of my own advice, added some from this blog, and created the Boredom Jar today. I didn't decorate mine, cause I have boys and they don't give a damn if there's ribbon on it.

So our rules are that if you complain of boredom, you can draw a slip of paper from the jar, but once you commit to being so bored that you have to have help to pull yourself out of the pending doom of depression, you have to do whatever is on the slip of paper. Even if it says that you have to clean a toilet. Yes, there are chores in the jar. (But not many - I'm not 100% mean.)

The boys were excited to try it, so I let them pull a paper this morning. The slip they chose was perfect. It said to visit someone. We all threw our shoes on and went down the street to see the baby chickens that a sweet little grandma had invited us to see last Sunday at church.

The boys had a ball! They saw the chicks, even got to pet one, fed the hens some scratch, learned how the chickens are taught where to lay their eggs...it was fun and educational! The sweet couple who hosted us were really good with the little kids and I am so glad we went.

On the way home, Cameron said, "All this excitement is making me want to be a farmer!"

One, Two, Three, Four!

Today I got my first taste of one of my favorite parts of summer. Our town's high school marching band.



The band practices for the parades they do during the summer, and they march past my house at about nine-thirty in the morning every four days or so. I guess they have to shake up their route so they don't annoy the crotchety people who find the drums disturbing. If I had it my way, they would march past my house EVERY morning, because there is just nothing like starting your day with a rockin' version of Chicago's Saturday In The Park.

Gets my blood movin' and my feet groovin'.

Marching Bands - quintessential summer.

*Edit - They came again today! Yey! We got Jeremiah Was A Bullfrog. I love this band, they are so cool.*

Made It To Tin, Hoping For Diamond

What the heck kind of tin gift are you supposed to give your spouse on the tenth anniversary, anyway? How about a nice can of chili? That's the gift that keeps on giving! Ten years ago today, I married my dear, sweet husband. My Stewart Little, my Andy-Candy-Pants, my.....nope, those are the only nick-names I have for him.

I so much wanted to write a beautiful, profound tribute to him and our decade of marital bliss, but that's just not me. It's hard to be sappy about Andrew. We are simple. Our love is comfortable. He is my best friend. He occasionally makes me want to throw heavy objects at windows. (But less often than you might think.)

Our wedding day was everything that I hoped it would be. Except for the cake, which was a disaster of a carrot cake masquerading as banana creme underneath that beautiful bead-adorned frosting. When Andrew put a piece of that cake in my mouth it gave me such a shock that I almost spat it out. But that wouldn't have been very lady like, would it? Oh, and I could have done without the multitude of pictures my photographer took of Andrew's sisters, (and one of his brothers), licking his face and groping his pecs. What was up with that? And also, I didn't especially appreciate the black flatware the caterer brought as though it were a funeral, or the DJ who actually had the nerve to play The Macarena in spite of my explicit instructions to keep that horrid song shelved. But all of the important things were perfect.

Since our wedding day, I have been learning to tolerate Andrew's gas, his inability to close a dresser drawer and his love of sauerkraut, and he, in return, has been trying to ignore my compulsive worrying, choke down my cooking and act as though my obvious revulsion at the sight of the blisters on his feet doesn't hurt his feelings. Things are going great!

In a lot of ways the past ten years have flown by with surprising haste. We've been through a lot of moves, four children, several jobs, ups and downs, fights and make-ups, and days and days filled with mostly incredible memories. I don't think I believe in soul mates, but I know my soul needs Andrew. Even when he calls me Devil Woman and leaves empty soda cans in the kitchen sink.

Steamed Over Something I Can't Change. Again.

Every time I see a wedding decorated with paper lanterns I get my knickers in a twist.  Paper lanterns were all I wanted at my wedding nearly ten years ago, but we could not find any on the internet or in any store in Utah or Colorado.  When my mother or I would call somewhere and ask about them no one even knew what we were talking about.  And now they are everywhere.  I guess it's just the burden of being so stylishly ahead of my time.  Now excuse me while I go take off my Cabela's hoodie that boasts a hole in the armpit and go to bed.

*image found here

A FEW GOOD FINDS

The other day I ordered this shirt:



which is found here, and on sale no less! I am anxiously awaiting it in the mail.

And then I printed out some of these:



FOR FREE! and I love them. The template can be downloaded here.

Loving

Hot Chocolate

Giving Myself a Break Until Afternoon

Pizza

Has anyone else tasted the new Domino's pizza?

I'm not saying that it's gourmet or anything, but there isn't much that could keep me from licking my fingers after finishing a slice of that stuff. And who knows where my hands have been?

Loving...

glee

cool parents

self-imposed censorship

strawberry cupcakes with cream cheese frosting

family walks

movie night

dried fruit

brillo pads