A breath of different air

I was at a band concert last night (another one!) (I'm trying to resist the urge to post pictures) (help me) and as I was leaving the building after I left (I had to leave early because I was dead tired and a little sick) (don't worry, I didn't miss Hayley's big part--a duet feature with a flute player during the song "Into the Storm") I caught of whiff of something non-native to this area.

I can't quite describe it, but it had something to do with redwood trees and beaches and landscaped yards with sculptured bushes and piers and close personal friendship with the sun and mountains and fog and more sun.

The first thought in my head after the all-too-brief nasal encounter was:

California

I smelled California in the air way out/up here in Minnesota.

I think it was the smell of vacation. Those long ago trips to cousins' swimming pools and air conditioning and Poltergeist and wearing one swimming suit for 5 days in a row and bleached hair and chasing dogs and walnut groves and KFC and Grandma's perfume and the smell of her dryer sheets too and tiny ice cubes. But it was also living on the second floor with a view of Bishop's Peak from the miniscule cement deck and the rock at Morro Bay and Jim's master's degree and having only one child, and Foothill Boulevard, and palm trees.

Just for one millisecond, I was either at the beach in Morro Bay, visiting Jim for the first time, or visiting my grandparents, aunts and uncles, and dozens of cousins.

It was nice.

Another concert? With pictures?

Seriously, how many of these am I going to post about? Well, all of them. Because I have nothing else to post about. The lilacs are not in bloom yet, so I can't post about that. Matt didn't say anything funny because he's too busy asking me if he can play Angry Birds. And Hayley's tooth Evelyn is just sitting in her mouth.

So we're back to band concerts.

You might have to click on this picture to see detail.
Seriously, does Paul ever play? He doesn't talk at home, yet he can't stop yakking during his own band concert. And the reason Mr. K is looking over his shoulder is to signal to the person who was singing (she was way up high in the lighting booth) to get ready to sing again. And the "whips" make really cool sounds. I'd post the video I took, but it's 10 minutes long and even then, it cut out before the song actually ended. That's right folks, the one song lasted 15 minutes.

The only other "good" picture from the concert was taken right as Paul was making a face that if he had been male model Ben Stiller in "Zoolander" he might have named it "Sheer malevolence." (again, you might have to click on it to see it clearly)

I'm gonna make him do this face for his senior pictures.

A good egg

In two weeks Paul is going to Prom! Not at our local high school; he's going to the school a district or two over to the east.

I was resigned to a Prom-picture-less spring because Paul said he wasn't going. But then a friend convinced him to ask someone.

And this is how he did the asking:

He dyed the egg himself on Easter Sunday morning, then texted a picture of it to the girl.

I had to get pictures myself, of course.
He had to wait awhile before he got an answer because a) she was at church--her dad is the stake president and I'm sure she isn't allowed to text during services, and b) his phone was being irritating, not letting him open picture files. Finally, we had her send her reply to my phone (her reply was also in the form of a picture)

This was her answer:

Isn't it cute? Friends I've told thought it was very creative. I love that the girl replied with Peeps!

I can't wait to take pictures of Paul going to Prom!!! It's suit-buying time! The guys in the group are wearing suits, not tuxes, and Paul needs a suit anyway, so we're going to Men's Wearhouse sometime this week!

Stay tuned after May 14 for PROM PICTURES!

Not a certified blog post

I'm just popping in to say:

I AM SO DANG BUSY TODAY.

So you will have to wait until tomorrow to read about Paul's upcoming prom date with accompanying picture (or two).

I went grocery shopping this morning, but I still haven't brought in the grocery bags. I hate bringing groceries into the house. It's anti-climactic. I already BOUGHT them, now I gotta drag them around? Sigh.....

Now I have to prepare for an activity at work tomorrow. It involves chopping up red cabbage and boiling it.

See you tomorrow!

Five things

No, it's not a half-sized ten things list; it's a piece of advice I gave out recently. A certain person confided to me that he/she had a messy car. In fact, the trunk, she/he said, contained a relic from 4 years ago, namely a hot chocolate covered mug that probably still had remnants of the hot chocolate in it. And it was buried under years of detritus.

I told this person that every time he/she got out of the car, no matter where she/he was, he/she should grab five things from the car (not including things she/he was transporting from place to another such as DVDs to return and groceries).

This way, the giant task of cleaning a messy car was turned into a little thing like finding five things to either throw away or bring up to the apartment. And it gave the person permission not to worry about the trunk until the inside of the car was cleaned out. I also advised this person that when the layer pertaining to the hot chocolate cup was unearthed, that the cup should be taken immediately to the nearest dumpster. This person was not pleased; I believe the exact words were, "But I like that cup."

My reply was that if you haven't used it in three or four years, you only used it once, and haven't bothered to get it out and wash it, then YOU CAN DO WITHOUT IT. You've done without it for this long, it won't hurt to go the rest of your life without it. And there are other mugs out there.

So we shall see what happens. Will this person stick with it and have a clean car eventually? I have been asked to text reminders every so often.

Five things, people.

(I could use this system for the computer desk)

Easter lunch in a little while. Cinnamon rolls are rising. I hope they turn out. Gotta cut some veggies too.

Happy Easter to all! May the love of Christ abound in your life.

It's a rare Saturday-Friday!

It really is a GOOD Friday! I don't have to work! It's a very rare day when school is closed AND my work is closed too. Usually I have to work a full day on no-school days.

Even more GOOD, Jim is off work! His department relies on the stock market, which is CLOSED! So we have Jim home, the kids home, and me home!

Commence...CHORES!

In sporting news, Paul had a track meet yesterday, which I was unable to go to (because it was in Stillwater and I was in Prior Lake working). He ran both the 1600 and the 3200 (first time this season). He did ok in the 1600, but got a personal best in the 3200: 10:37! He says the coach is now going to put him in the 3200 more often. He's still the top guy in the 1600 too. Yay for Paul!

I have no pictures of the race (having not attended) and usually I would just "borrow" some from the woman who goes to all the meets and takes many metric tonnes of pictures, but she hasn't put them out yet.

While I wait, I might as well make out the chore lists for today! I'm all tingly with excitement!

The only problem with snow in April

...is that I worry that the one daffodil that is this >< close to blooming will die because of the snow.

Luckily there will be more daffodils.

Today is a ten things day because I feel like posting but nothing is going on (except the rapid dispersal of frozen precipitation from the clouds above).

1. Despite the snow, the lilac bushes have started to leaf out. The weather will set them back a week or so, but that's ok. It's like stretching Christmas out an extra couple of days. I love the anticipation of flowers! I check my plants every day!

2. I'm hungry even though I ate two breakfasts. Obviously they were crappy breakfasts if they didn't fill me up. Anyone have any ideas for fast, easy, nutritious breakfasts that fill you up?

3. We're gonna play Jeopardy in seminary tomorrow. The pacing guide for seminary lessons says to teach a THIRD lesson on Brigham Young, but I'm all Brigham'd out.

4. So then I was going to give the Scripture Mastery test in seminary tomorrow, but no one is ready for it and doing it next week will save me from having to teach the lesson on Official Declaration 1 (look it up. See why I don't want to teach it. Also, we had a bishopric member teach it two weeks ago). Jeopardy is my fall-back.

5. I'm still hungry. Nothing sounds good though unless it is a) made by someone else, b)involves meat, salt, and noodles, or c) candy.

6. There is NO.....rule number six. (Thank you Monty Python)

7. I've been staying up way to late this week. I need a nap.

8. I also need to come up with three crafts/activities for work. My parameters are a) super super super super easy, b) have to do with spring or Mother's Day, c) CHEAP (as in free and made with stuff my work has on hand), d) doesn't involve more than one hour of prep--so NO precutting of papers, foam, etc, AND e) HAS TO BE EASIER THAN WHAT YOU JUST THOUGHT OF.

9. Nope.

10. Cupcake?

Chapter 247 in a future book called "The Embarrassed Organist"

Possible subtitle "How to really screw up on the organ and still be asked to play"

I was asked to sub for the regular organist yesterday (well in advance. I couldn't rely on the "not enough time to practice" excuse). It was ward conference, so the head honchos were in town too.

And I totally messed up the first song.

It was a song I can't play very well (219 Because I Have Been Given Much--Katie, I SO needed your skillz with that song yesterday) so I decided to take advantage of the autoplay on the organ, i.e. the organ was going to play itself.

How could I screw up a song the organ was going to play by itself, you ask? Oh, I found a way.

The introduction went fine, but I thought perhaps it was too fast. So I was going to slow down the tempo on the autoplay. But I didn't push the "quick menu" button to take me to the tempo/volume menu first. (Which, I learned, you have to do first) I just turned the knob that I thought would slow it down. Instead of slowing the tempo during the first bars of the first verse, IT STOPPED PLAYING.

If the organ had a PANIC button, I would have pushed that.

I leaned over and in a very loud whisper to the chorister, I said, "It stopped." Thank goodness this young lady had the presence of mind to keep the congregation going. They looked to her and she continued singing and moving her arm around in time to the nonexsistent music without so much as a waver or a flinch.

Since I couldn't restart autoplay while the congregation was in the middle of a verse, I had to sit there on the organ bench and wait. I'm sure my face was beet red.

My initial reaction was to run off to my car and drive home as fast as possible and never set foot in church again. My second reaction was to hide in the bathroom. Third: Hide behind the organ. Fourth, shout obscentities very loudly at the organ (OK not really. I'm not one to swear). Instead I decided I would sit there, NOT hiding, and listen to the congregation sing. When they realized that there was no organ to back them up, they sang louder. It was beautiful. I had a little spiritual moment in the middle of my embarrassment. I felt like the Lord was telling me "It's fine. See? The congregation knows the song and all is forgiven. You aren't perfect at organ playing and that's ok. You did your best and I accept the sacrifice of your dignity. Here is a beautiful verse of music to listen to while you wait for the next opportunity to come in." Some of the embarrassment went away (not all of it--if it all went away, then I wouldn't remember it) and I sat back and enjoyed the moment.

Then the verse ended, so I cued up the organ for the second verse. All went fine for the rest of the song.

And for the Sacrament hymn and the rest hymn.

Then I had to face the organ again for the closing song. I could play the song, but not very well.

I forged ahead with Onward Christian Soldiers (a hymn I really like). Suddenly, in the middle of the second to last verse, my left hand accidentally pushed one of the buttons, which caused the organ sound to change. I could still play, but the music was a little loud and brassy, even for my taste (I like a good rowsing full range of sound on the organ). I panicked but kept playing like I had done it intentionally. I could hear a few murmurs in the congregation, but nobody threw tomatoes so I calmed myself down.

That beast of an organ seems determined to make my face permanently red.

And I get to face it again in May. Wish me luck. And please don't come to visit our meetings.

Reunited

I KNEW if I posted a complaint about my skirt that I would find it.

I found it in a laundry basket. The strange thing is that I've LOOKED IN THAT BASKET NEARLY EVERY DAY SINCE I LOST THE SKIRT.

Really!

(Pay no attention to the fact that the basket of clean laundry had been sitting in my room for 3+ weeks)

I SWEAR I looked in that basket for the skirt. I also looked in the basket for socks, shirts and exercise pants. I SWEAR it was not in that basket. I'm thinking that the skirt needed a break from being worn 3 times a week to seminary and it went invisible for a bit to get away from me. Or it's a ninja skirt and had to attend to a few assassinations and only recently returned. I should be glad I wasn't one of the targets. The only other explanation would be aliens. An alien race of black skirt like creatures thought that my skirt was one of their lost ones. It took them long enough to realize it was just a plain black skirt.

I still can't find the black strappy shoes. Maybe shoe-like aliens and my black strappys are enjoying a reunion with their alien kin as I type...

XXL-Files

I cannot find my favorite black skirt! I put it in the laundry and it disappeared!

I cannot find my low heeled black strappy shoes!

I lost my black slip, but Hayley found it in a pile of her clean clothes.

My theory is that the washing machine and the dryer have magical abilities and very slight mischievous streaks. I'm not just going on evidence of a missing skirt and a misfiled slip (I don't think the machines had anything to do with the disappearance of the shoes--that can only be explained by poltergeists), but on the unexplained appearance of a pair of socks (?) made out of floral polar fleece (seriously, they are kinda weird looking) and another pair of pink and white socks. Hayley swears these foot coverings are not hers and nor do they belong to the only female sleepover participant (Hayley's friend Gabby) we have had this year.

There is also the matter of the appearance of a pair of huge brown Vans (skateboarder shoes). I think I might know to whom they belong. Perhaps he went home with my black strappys and left the Vans here in exchange. But then Matt's friend would have some explaining to do. And he would never fit into the black strappys.

Perhaps I'll never know what happened to the skirt and shoes. I will never find another skirt like that black one. It resisted wrinkling, it was stretchy, and very comfortable. Alas! Anyone have another theory? I am flummoxed. And I don't like being flummoxed.

Cakey goodness

A long time ago in the land of flickr, I posted a picture of a ladybug cake I made for a scout fundraiser. A few days ago, I received a request from someone who was searching on flickr for birthday cake ideas for her website focusing on children's parties, and she wanted to share my ladybug cake! I said yes and shared some tips for making it.

To see my ladybug cake featured on the party website, go here. Scroll down. It's the second cake.

Tracking

Spring is here! And along with warmer temperatures, green grass, and daffodils, we have track meets to go to!

Guess who is happy about the track meets?
Yes, folks, that is a TOTALLY natural smile on his face! (I have such a hard time getting him to smile for the camera. Either he doesn't want to smile, or his smiles are really weird-looking) There is hope for senior pictures! (which are coming up this summer)

Here he is at the starting line.

First lap (hint: he's not the bald kid)
This is from the second lap.
And at the finish line!He came in 8th (of 28) with a time of 4:54. Way to run Paulie!

As I was editing pictures, Jim leaned over my shoulder and asked, "Did you ever think little Bucket Head would grow up to be a good runner?"

Bucket Head. I haven't thought of that particular nickname for Paulie in a long time. A very long time ago (oh, maybe 14 or 15 years) our tow-headed toddler found a Halloween bucket and put it on his head. He wore it for days.

And nights:We called him Bucket Head for quite awhile. But it's been ages since Paul has been Bucket Head. I might have to find a bigger bucket and try to get Paulie to wear it; that old one is too small.

From the hands of Matt

For the last few months, I've seen a fabric lump around the house. The fact that I never did anything with it (like toss it out) doesn't speak well of my housekeeping philosophy or routine (if I even have one). Finally a few weeks ago, I happened to notice Matt fiddling with it. I asked him if the fabric lump was his. He said, "I lost the pencil bag you got me at the beginning of the school year so I made this one to replace it."

It's a pencil bag? No wonder it was lumpy. I asked to examine it.

He had taken scraps and a zipper from my sewing room and fashioned it into this:
I like that he didn't ask for help with it. I would have been a lot more finicky about how it looked if I was a part of the creation process. This is the most ragged sewing job (and it involved STAPLES) I've seen but I can't help but LOVE IT. Why do I love it? Because Matt solved a problem by himself, he used materials he found around the house, he came up with his own design, he is not afraid to let his sewing be seen by other people including his friends, and he allowed me to photograph it. (also it reminds me of the time he patched his own jeans--can't find the post about it to link to it though)

Here is the zipper part. Can you pick out the staples? (Ha!)
It does actually open.
YES he brings this to school. I don't know what other kids have said about it, but maybe I'll ask Matt today.

Another circular argument

Last night I was on the phone with Katie. She kept bugging me to take a picture of Evelyn (remember Hayley's tooth?). Just thinking about exposed unerupted teeth and pulling gums back like banana peels made my flesh crawl (and my gums cringe and hug tighter to their neighboring teeth).

K: I wanna see the tooth!

Me: Too bad. I can't take the picture.

K: C'mon!

Me: No. You'd be grossed out and then you'd say, "I shouldn't have looked at that!"

K: But I have to SEE it to be able to SAY "I shouldn't have looked at that!"

Me: Why even look? You don't want to see it.

K: That's why I want to see it.


Where did these kids get their flawed logical processes? I can't even argue with them because they fight illogically. You can't get up a good rhetorical defense if you're trying to use sense and the other team is using little colored marshmallows. (I have no idea what my metaphor is trying to do, but then I wonder that about my kids, so LOGICALLY, the metaphor fits)

PS According to Hayley, Evelyn is doing fine.

Delicious bass

(the guitar, not the fish)

Two Hayley-related items from yesterday:

Mouth surgery. I like to say it this way because it makes the procedure sound much more intense than it really was. The oral surgeon cut open gum tissue above tooth #11 (which has stubbornly refused to come out to play with Hayley's other teeth), exposing it so that the orthodontist will be able to attach machinery that will pull #11 (aka Evelyn) down and force it to join the other teeth as an operable member of Hayley's permanent dentition.

Hayley chose local anesthesia, which was a good thing for the rest of the day. She was coherent, possessing a fully functioning (for a teenage girl) brain. She was intrigued by the numbness of the local, and she spent the next hour or so poking her nose and lips and saying "I can't feel them." (and she talked funny)

Now, most parents, when scheduling oral surgery, would pick a day devoid of any other responsibilities for Hayley, but whoever scheduled Hayley's did not consult the calendar (I won't say who was the one who did it, but I will give you a hint: not me). Hayley had a jazz band concert last night, mere hours after being under the knife!

Fortunately, playing the bass guitar does not require any oral dexterity, unless you like to grimace while you play, and Hayley doesn't grimace, so we figured she was up to playing. But we had to carry the bass around for her because she was under orders not to do any heavy lifting after the procedure (since when do you need your gums to lift things?).

Anyway, here are some pictures.

Hayley tunes up the bass. The smile she has on is fake because I'm bugging her for a picture while she's tuning.

The middle school jazz band. I've labeled it for you.
Can I complain for a second? Dang it's hard to get a picture of Hayley playing the bass. They have her stuck off to the side BEHIND a keyboard and a music stand. Plus she kind of faces away from the audience so she can look at her music and hands. And she has long hair. For all I could tell, Cousin Itt was playing the bass. I had to move to the aisle to get this next picture. I settled for a good shot of her hands and hopefully you all can imagine her face. And truthfully, I don't even think she was actually playing at the moment I took the picture. No pictures of her tooth. I can barely look at Evelyn myself, let alone take a picture of it.

Cuchara grande

April Fool's Day. It's not usually celebrated around here (except on my blog. Yeah, no tattoo for me).

However, I thought it would be fun to do dinner different tonight in honor of the day of pranks. I printed up a menu of items (food, utensils, drinks, plates, etc) in different languages.

Here is the table I set for the kids. All they got to start with was the menu and a marker to circle which items they wanted to order. They got to order 5 things at a time. Paul knew what "huevo" was, but not "cuchara grande." According to babelfish dot com, cuchara grande means big spoon. So he had something to eat his gravy with. He got a plate, a fork too.

Matt wasn't so lucky. He got food, but no utensils. He was indignant about the carrots, but he was happy about getting pudding. And a dishtowel bib.
He had to eat his carrots using his bib because he hadn't ordered a fork.
All three of the kids got lucky in that they happened to order plates during the first course. Otherwise the food would have had to go directly onto the table (hence the plastic tablecloth).

Alas, Hayley didn't get utensils either. She consumed her pudding in this fashion:

Near the end of the feast, after ordering some real food by pure luck, Matt happened to order butter. So he ate it. Also notice Hayley's white bowl. She had ordered water but had not ordered a cup. So I poured the water in the bowl. She ordered milk at the same time, but didn't want the milk poured into the bowl with the water, so I poured the milk right into her mouth. Sorry, no picture of that.

All three kids enjoyed the dinner, even Paul. He laughed at getting gravy first. His noodles came in the next installment.

Some of the available menu items (in English): plate, spoon, fork, knife, cup, bowl, shrimp, noodles, butter, gravy, peaches, pears, broccoli, cauliflower, carrots, juiceboxes, milk, water, steak knife, big spoon, cookies, pudding, egg, bib, napkin, and mushrooms.

I translated the items into Korean, Spanish, Russian, Dutch, German, French, Japanese, Greek, Chinese, and Portuguese.

After the kids ate, I helped myself to whatever I wanted. No language barriers kept me from getting all the necessary utensils and some good food.

Jim missed out because he was working.

To do for today

I haven't done a ten things list in a while. And since I can't think of anything else to blog about (and I'm not making any freezer casseroles today so I can't blog about that) I'll resort to my cop-out blog formula. The blog almost writes itself!

So you get a to-do for to-day.

1. Now that Jim has an iPod (as do the rest of us), I think I can safely throw out all the CDs. They are such wasters of space. Time to clean out the stereo cabinet, the CD racks, the four boxes in his closet. Might as well get rid of his vinyl collection too. He NEVER plays his records.

2. Decal the van. I have several bumper stickers lying around that I haven't put on the vehicle yet. Jim gave me a couple of bullet hole stickers too as a joke. Might as well slap them on too.

3. Organize my shoes by height to soothe the headache I get from disorganized visual stimuli every time I look in my closet.

4. Sew Hayley a NORMAL skirt. One that doesn't look like she's taking part in cosplay.

5. Attempt a trituration of amalgam, using the mercury from an old thermometer and my ground-up silver ring. Might need Mike's advice on this.

6. Collect the cat fur under the couch and beds. Add it to the Ziploc bag of fur already collected.

7. Choose a tattoo design. Head shot of Servo or the MST3K logo? Opinions anyone?

8. Give Paul a rug burn.

9. Wash ALL the dishes.

10. Play an April Fool's joke on someone.