this is it

This rain, it hasn't stopped much. But here's a secret: I like the rain. I find it to be so very cleansing. Snow just seems to cover things up and leave them far worse for the wear, while rain actually washes the world outside my window clean. An astute observation, I know. Of course, if you live in Utah like me and must combine this rain with epic snow melting down from the mountain tops, things start to flood silly like and that is something of a problem. Double edged sword I suppose. Instead of "double" I initially typed "duel" and cocked my head in confusion until I figured out why that looked so wrong to me. Do you often get your common idioms confused? It happens to me more often than I would like to admit. Like once I typed about birds chirping when I really meant crickets. Whatever, you're picking up what I'm throwing down, right?

My Paul has been gone for 6 days. Working in California. I miss him when he's gone, and this is the longest I believe we've ever really been apart. August marks 5 years of marriage for us. 5 years full of extraordinary moments in the middle of the kinds of experiences that someday we will look back on and say "remember how hard that was?". This life we have together often feels like a work in progress I suppose, but we go on together, aware of what we don't have while trying to remember how lucky we are for what we do. 

My trial period of single-parenthood has been made to be not-so-hard thanks to a Friday and Saturday trip down to see my dad (my mom was in Wyoming, again) to decorate the family plots and obligatory greasy lunch at the bowling alley, then steak and cake at Whitney's on Saturday night, then a 3+ hr nap with my boys on Sunday, and then back to Whitney's again today for tasty grilled hot dogs and homemade hot fudge sauce slathered over ice cream while the feral children all played together in the background, and the babies sealed their future betrothal with a kiss. Seriously, Violet went for it. Fatty responded by pulling her hair. Ah, the seeds of young love hath been sown.

Tomorrow I have a garden to weed, rows of beans and corn to plant, along with a few more tomatoes, some cukes and crookneck squash. If I can manage not to kill everything, we should pull off quite a harvest here in a few months, at which point Connie will step in and show me what to do with the bounty because like I paid attention during my youthful period of indentured slavery as her reluctant (coerced) summertime canning assistant.

I am ready for my husband to come home. I am ready for the sun to shine. I am ready for my legs to stop blinding passing motorists with their glaring whiteness. I am ready for bed.

Oh, and I got back on facebook. 

What? 

any more candles and we'll burn this joint down

the one on the right is 35 today

old

old
saggy

old
old

I kid you!

(inspite and because) I love him so

happy birthday Plobster!

Things About Today That Did Not Suck-Part 1

Paul lost his phone last night, in the middle of a stupid horse field when he was picking up a trailer to haul some stuff for work. In the dark he searched for two hours, calling, with a flashlight, in the rain, all to no avail.  He woke up early this morning and searched for another hour, then I came with him and we searched some more. No dice. The lovely new iphone he's had for 3 freaking months is a complete loss, buried somewhere in a pile of horse manure or a puddle of muddy water.

B to the lurgh. 

He felt more sad about it than me, I think I was at the point where it was like, "hahahaha, RIGHT. RIGHT? WHAT ELSE DO YOU HAVE UNIVERSE? BRING IT!". Even though we can hardly afford to replace it, necessity would dictate that we do anyway, but such is life I suppose? Clearly I had reached the acceptance phase in the grieving process, breezing straight past bargaining, depression, grief, and denial; just like Maria Shriver I was ready to move on (seriously Arnold, SERIOUSLY). Except Paul called me a few hours ago and said that his boss had shockingly offered to buy him a new 4G to replace the phone and just like that, my frown got turned upside down. No longer did I have to bear my burden of stalwart resignation and sacrifice my budget to the iphone gods.  

That part of today did not suck. 

Other things that did not suck:

cookies never faileth

nor doth this face

Happy Tuesday

It's Sunday, again.

The siren song of the garden called to me this sabbath day eve, am I supposed to capitalize "sabbath"? You tell me. Anyway, the peas are up to my calf by now since I planted them on St. Patrick's Day (also, Connie's birthday), a second row planted a month ago has sprouted up as well. The onions have poked their way up towards the sky, a few broccoli seedlings have sprouted and even a row of potatoes. I hacked down some weeds with my hoe (not ho, what good would one have those done me?), turned up a spot or two and interred 6 more broccoli plants, 6 cauliflower plants, 4 tomatoes, and far away from all of those, a zucchini squash or two. Tomorrow I will get on down to the IFA for some beans and corn to add to the mix, and maybe some pumpkin seeds as well. I'm sure I'll have to talk myself down from buying baby chicks yet again. They peep! So fluffy! I need! No I don't. We have enough pets around here what with two small children and Augustus Thor the Thunderdog shedding and pooping his merry way around the property. 

If you had asked me 5 years ago if I thought I would ever have even attempted a garden of any sort, likely I would have laughed in your face and maybe slapped you for good measure. I got enough of gardening during the years I spent as one of Connie's indentured servants; snapping beans, picking peas, endless weeding, NO THANKS. And yet, here I am; gleeful over a trailer full of turkey poop infused mulch (it's the best stuff, no really), and far too excited about the fact that the gladiolus I planted almost 2 months ago didn't really die like I thought they would. Gardening is fun! Especially when you're not forced to do it against your 15 year old will, or 8, 9, and almost 10 months pregnant like I was last summer. Turns out, it's not so bad. I would do it for the fresh tomatoes alone. 

Where am I going with this? I'm not sure. The weekend was busy. Saturday always goes too fast and Sunday is over before it even starts thanks to stupid 1 pm church. Whoever thought going to church past noon was a great idea should be drug behind a car and then beat senseless for good measure. Even so, the outfit I put together for today garnered not one, but FOUR compliments from the teenage girls I so desperately (and awkwardly) seek validation from for personal reasons I cannot figure out. I am so going to go and write about this in my journal now. I would have taken a picture to document this historic self-esteem boosting event, but by the time we got home at 4:30, and after having been cornered by a member of the bishopric and coerced into speaking next week, I was practically stripping off my church clothes in the car. Treats for everyone!

Instead, here is an iphone picture of my mobile via compulsive rolling over baby underneath a chair, with a pile of spit up/drool to boot:

he's cute.

Happy Sunday, I want a do-over.

19 minutes

...before my battery runs out

Here's how my weekend went: 

deep lunges with a giant syringe gun

I helped my brother doctor and brand some cows. Guess what? It was equal parts fun and depressing. Poor baby calves and their charred skin! Poor me who had to inject them with vaccines! Poor mamas who had to be separated from their babies for hours on end! OH MY BLEEDING HEART! The farm girl in me has, in some senses, been almost completely eradicated. There are some who would rejoice in this fact, and others who would weep, or at least call me a giant wuss. Brothers to be specific.  

At least this cowhand had some fun:

last year's birthday t-shirt

Then it was Mothers Day which turned out to be a lot like any other day. Paul made exceptional blueberry pancakes for us at least, and then the business of wrangling kids and sabbath responsibilities commenced per the norm, I didn't even get to take a nap which is a terrific injustice if you ask me.  Boo hoo.  I had to teach the lesson for my Sunday School class (which was terrible by the way, it's all fun and games until someone has to apply and impart gospel principles to a bunch of 17-18 year olds, I suuuuuck at this calling. Why can't we just hang out and talk for that hour instead? I'm dying to hear about the proms last weekend). After that was over there was another ginormo extended family Mothers Day celebration which I'm sure made my Grandma's posterity producing loins of yesteryear glow and radiate just like the tip of ET's finger. Oh geez. The turkey was pretty tasty though, thanks Ma and Happy Mothers Day to you, yesterday. 

Proof that I am a mother and I made two boys with my very own lady parts to follow. Mamas for the win!

5 MINUTES TO SPARE!

phew