Grandma's Playhouse

Last weekend we moved into what

I have lovingly dubbed

Grandma's Playhouse.

I am being completely honest when I say that you feel like you would see grandma standing in the kitchen. Not specifically one of my grandmas, but a grandma in general. Perhaps the embodiment of a grandma, the classic image that everyone imagines, dressed in her kitchen apron and with her hair all up in a short curly cut (the white dandelion style), perhaps with a gigantic pair of bifocals and a warm smile on her face, ready to pinch your cheeks and cuddle you silly. She would be completely at home in our new house.

I am a girly girl. I love candles and lotions, pink and frilly etc etc etc. But even I could not stomach the amount of lace in this house. Yesterday I took down the lace curtains in our bedroom and even the lace shower curtain (yes, I am serious, a lace shower curtain) and left them in a pile on the living room floor. I would rather look at exposed blinds, curtain rods and a shower liner than see all of that cream colored lace cluttering up Grandma's Playhouse.

But I digress.

The reason I call it Grandma's Playhouse is because of it's inevitable charm. Four sets of stairs that children can literally run circles in, a treehouse-like room above the garage, a beautiful backyard with lots of plants and trees, and loads of gold hardware make this home a grandchild's dream. I swear the first thing I wanted to do was run up and down the stairs...

And as we slowly move through the drudgery of unpacking everything and finding a home for each piece of furniture, I have started to create a few of my favorite spaces.

I love the bookshelf when you are standing in the middle of the living room, with the wedding picture of us next to a purple candle. I love just above the sink where there are cute little shelves where I can put my big bowl with the cream candlesticks. I love the dining room with the little round table, green place mats and a big vase of pretty flowers. I love the little space between the fridge and the stove where I put the breadboard, the rolling pin, and the oil and vinegar bottles.

These are a few of my favorite things in Grandma's Playhouse...

So much to catch up on ~ Part one

I just realized that since I have been on my honeymoon and sick last week I neglected to catch you up on all the happenings for the last 2.5 weeks of my life.

I am a terrible blogger.

The wedding was wonderful. I did my endowments the day before and met Scotland's adorable little family and then we rushed down to Pocatello for a family barbecue.

We were able to setup the reception decor at that time as well. The little jars that Jesslyn and I made were soooo pretty, we hung them on shepherds hooks around the barbecue area and on Saturday we lined the entry walk with them.

We worked on setup before and after the barbecue and left for Idaho Falls at about midnight. I was exhausted, but that was good because it didn't take me forever to fall asleep. I woke up early, about 45 minutes before my alarm was scheduled to go off, but I got to take a nice long bath to ease into the day. I went and got my hair done at Ashley and Natalie's house and then I met my parents and Scotland at the temple. When we went in, they asked us if we had our marriage licence, and silly me, I had left it in the car. (Priorities, you see? I remembered the dress!)

Thinking about it now, it seems strange to me that I wasn't nervous at all. I wasn't on the verge of a panic attack, or stressing about the reception, or how my makeup or hair looked. I was just happy and ready. I calmly watched in the mirror while my mother laced up the back of my dress in the bride room. I applied my lip gloss with a steady hand. And when I was ready, I gathered things up and it was time to go. Afterwards, I took Scotland's hand and we walked out the doors of the temple to our waiting families and posed for pictures and smiled and hugged. Then we went to the luncheon and did a small ring ceremony for Scotland's family to see and then ate wonderful pasta for lunch.

Our realtor, Darrell, opened up our new house so that everyone could see it, even though we hadn't yet officially closed on it. Family and friends were invited to tour it and see the place that we would be calling home. I am sure people in the neighborhood thought I was crazy like a fox when I hoped out of my mother's SUV in my big fluffy dress and flounced my way across the lawn just as Scotland pulled up on his motorcycle in his tux. Oh how I wish I had a picture of that!

(And here is my shameless begging.) PLEASE!!! To all those of you who love me (at least some of the time) and you have pictures of my beautiful day, please send them to me!!! I want to surround myself with them in my home and office and everywhere I go! (Shameless begging ended)

The rest of my story is to be continued, for I have far exceeded my wasted work time for today...

frogs

diagnosis: unknown

So needless to say I am still sick. And they don't know what is wrong with me. Hence the lack of blogs. As I sit here typing away, I can feel the lining of my stomach being liquefied as it squelches bile back and forth in nauseating waves. (Wow how was that for a mental image...) At least I am at work today, and functioning on a low level. Last night, I was able to keep down Diet Dr. Pepper! Hallelujah!

Along with the sickyness of being sick, Scotland and I are furiously packing our things (ok mostly my things) so that we can move into our house this weekend. (I know, I have the worst timing!) We probably won't have everything boxed up, but at least where it is relatively close we won't have far to go next week when we are running back and forth. Thank heavens my father and his moving company (consisting of mom, moe (john) and cousin brian) are bringing up the gigantic trailer to haul all such items and materials.

Now if Scotland and I can just agree on what rooms will be used for what, we might just have a successful weekend. Oh well... we shall see.

I am back...

but I think I have the Swine Flu. I have been sick since Saturday.



I called the doctor to make an appointment and after asking for the standard info (who is your doctor, what is your name and birthdate) she asked what they were seeing me for.



I informed her that I just got back from Mexico and I have the flu.



She laughed at me. The woman actually had the audacity to laugh at me.



Rude.



I will let you know what the results are. And if I am dying, I will my every possession to my darling husband Scotland. Except for my pink high heels which he would never use and so I that will go to Jami. And I will my cat back to my father. Except I don't really think that is necessary since he has not actually given me the cat yet. But nonetheless I will Kiki to him.

Wish me luck. Swine flu is a very serious disease you know...

A secret for you

Ok, come a little closer so I can tell you something.

A little bit closer now.

Tilt your head in toward me just a smidgen.

I have to tell you a secret

I AM

GETTING MARRIED

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yay!

My fair lady

Hair curled and gleaming in the sunshine, draped in my beautiful white gown, I waited for him in the president’s garden. When he stepped into my view surrounded by the vine draped tunnel, he saw me for the first time. His jaw dropped and then he broke into the biggest smile. The photographer snapped photos of him walking toward me and taking me in his arms. It was surreal, to say the least. As she posed us and clicked away with her shiny black camera, I studied him. He looked sharp, it’s true, but he still looked like the adorable boy I fell in love with. When my thoughts were interrupted by our enthusiastic photographer, I turned my attention to the digital image she was showing me on her camera screen. I recognized my Scotland in the picture at once, but when I looked at myself, I had to look closer to be sure it was really me in the photo. She was vaguely familiar, but almost dreamlike in quality. My brain tried to wrap itself around that.

I am the person in that picture. That is me. I really look like that.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I know what I look like. Better than anyone else, I would say since I have seen myself naked. I have no misguided notions about my looks. I guess I was just caught off guard that I could look like that. I felt as if I had been twirled around by talented stylists and dress makers that had made me into the woman in the pictures. Was it me? I don’t know.

It was fun though. It was surreal and very bizarre to be dressed up like that getting photographed with Scotland in his tux at my side. I still feel a bit dreamlike today when I think about it.

The difference between fantasy and reality

Yesterday during lunch, Scotland and I zipped across town to do the final fitting for his tux.

It was very James Bond if you know what I mean.

A dashing black coat, real bow tie and the silk stripe down the pant legs. As he stepped out of the dressing room, the slow orchestra of the Bond movies filled my head and I realized that I was slinking over to him as if in a ball gown rather than my levi capris. My hands flew to his chest and touched the wool jacket in a light caress as I looked up through my eyelashes at him. His crisp white shirt was bright against the black vest and coat, and his French cuffs peaked out beneath his sleeves. A debonair smile crossed his face when he realized

I was about to melt at the sight of him.

I brushed some invisible lint from the collar of his coat as I attempted to collect my once organized thoughts again. He pulled me close to him and kissed me. And then I realized that the sales girl was standing there, arms folded, tape measure around her neck and a rather amused expression on her face.

Oops.

I cleared my throat and turned to the register to pay. Afterwards, we swept off with the tux bag in hand and felt like we were having some stolen holiday from work in the middle of the day.

After our adventure into fantasy land, reality all came crashing back as he handed me about a crazillion home loan papers to sign in the parking lot. Somehow, signing my current last name was a little boring. I much would have much rather been signing Smith.

Smith, Mrs. Smith.

(said in a Bond, James Bond kind of way…and there goes that orchestra music again)

Post script:

Since I woke up this morning at, oh I don’t know THE CRACK OF DAWN I decided to start a little early on my photo primping preparations (say that three times fast) so I started tweezing, scrubbing, etc. I covered my face in a mud mask and then decided I would go downstairs and eat while it dried. As I crunched away at my rice crispies, I looked down at my bowl and noticed little black specks on the white rim. Weird, I thought the bowl was clean when I poured my cereal into it. And as I chewed a little slower, a nice chunk of my mud mask plopped into the milk. I started to laugh, which of course only caused more of my dried mask to sprinkle all over my table and clothes. So, breakfast was ruined, but my skin, well it was bond girl lovely.

Stay tuned for details on how this evening’s photo shoot goes… wish me luck!