The Law

I used to get pulled over a lot when I was younger. My {formerly} reckless nature led me to believe that I had to get everywhere at the highest possible speed and that every stoplight was just an opportunity to try out my Indie 500 lead food skills. Needless to say, The Law didn't think much of my adolescent ways. And I got stopped on a pretty regular basis. But the thing I had going for me back then was two fold. My gender, and an ability to cry whenever I was pulled over. Please let me assure you, I have no talent as an actress. Those tears were a real manifestation of the fear I had of being ticketed, and the resulting parental suspension of my driving privileges, which as you know is the equivalent of social death to a teenager. And fortunately for me {and unfortunately for the rest of the drivers on the road} I have only ever gotten one ticket in my lifetime. But I still got that anxious shaky going-to-cry feeling whenever I got pulled over.

Fast forward a few years and I am very proud to say I have not only broken my need for speed, but I have also not been pulled over for about six years. That is until last Friday.

I was heading home from work on Friday for lunch when I realized there was a sheriff's car behind me at the stop sign. And then I realized I didn't have my seat belt on. Great. So after I made my left turn, I slipped the shoulder strap down and attempted to buckle it, and wouldn't you know it, the twisted strap was refusing to latch in. And then the lights turned on behind me.

I pulled over and put my arm down to hold the belt in place, knowing full well that when I was asked for my licence and registration, I would have to lean over to my glove box and the belt would spring back to my left shoulder and then it would all be over. But nonetheless, I rolled down my window as the sheriff approached, and managed to squeak out a hello while my knees were knocking together. And nice as can be, he said

Did you know your registration is expired by like, nine months?

at which point I proved once again what an idiot I am around cops.

What?!?! Are you kidding me?

I can only attribute this ridiculous response as an indication that I obviously believe all cops are out to play jokes on me, as we have seen once before in this adventure.

At which point he tells me that just going down and getting my car registered would be less money than a citation for it and recommends that I get that taken care of as soon as possible.

And when he walked away, I did a quick self inventory and noted that while my heart was beating a million times a second and my legs were still shaking so bad my knees were knocking together, I had not cried. A personal victory. And as I let out a sigh of relief, my seat belt flew out from underneath my arm and retracted itself back into place.

And remember the referee that lives in my head? He waved his arms and yelled "SAFE" as The Law walked away.

P.S. Have I ever mentioned that I dated a cop once upon a time? A story for another day I suppose.

P.P.S. Always wear your seat belt and drive in accordance to the laws and rules of the road.

P.P.P.S. This is a public service announcement.

P.P.P.P.S. This is a recording.

Keepin' it real. And sometimes legal.

~k rock~

Bits of random {sewing edition}

1. My sewing machine is officially dead. I even may have cried a bit when I finally came to grips with that fact. I just took it in for a tune up, and they declared the cam is broken and they cannot get replacement parts for it due to its advanced age. Sad fish. Even worse, I am in the midst of a crisis project that needs to be done by tomorrow.

2. I also found the cutest tutorial here for curtains that would be perfect for the freshly painted second bedroom or perhaps the guest room, but I suppose I will just have to hang onto the pattern until I have a replacement machine.

3. I attempted to finish my crisis project last night by hand. It did not go so well. Who sews by hand these days anyway?

4. Last weekends adventure to S Utah made me really really wish for a quilters long arm sewing machine which unfortunately is not in my future due to the $12,000 price tag. Yes I did type that correctly if you are wondering.

I want to cry now. Can somebody get me a hankie?

"Letting go" ~ alternately titled ~ "how I got over the blue bag incident"

All my bags are packed, I'm ready ta go
I'm standing here outside yo' do'
hate to wake you up to say goodbye.

Cause I'm leeeeaaavvvvin' on a jet plaaane
Don't know when I'll be back agaaaain

Blue bag. The one I didn't want. Has grudgingly become an accepted piece of luggage around here.

Why would I not want a blue bag?

Story.

We had just arrived in Las Vegas and were unloading the rental *grimace* mini van in the parking garage of the condo and somebody got a little too aggressive with my maroon bag and tore the strap off while lifting it out. Irreparable. And I was sad, because that bag had been a good and faithful friend. But as it was the beginning of the trip, I certainly couldn't go without some form of substitute to my ultra stuffed bag. So after getting properly checked in and unpacked, we went to the outlet mall.

Now let me stop right here and tell you that very rarely are guys good marathon shopping companions. Like seriously. They poop out after one or two hours and start complaining that they are dying of thirst/joint pain/hunger or they have contracted some form of mall spread communicable disease. None of which squeezes empathy from my cold shriveled heart, but all of which annoys the living daylights out of me. Again though, I said very rarely. My bro in law, Lance the Pants is the rare exception, which is a very good thing being that he is married to my ultra picky clothes horse older sister. He can marathon shop with the best of them. Now my darling husband and my brother, Mo are not such great shopping companions. Lacking in patience, endurance and one might argue, style, they are the type you would rather leave home when on a long shopping expedition. (Short term jaunts into the world of retail are fine, they just fail miserably when asked for more than like five minutes per store.)

So the five of us were perusing this great Mecca of stores in Vegas and after about 30 minutes, Scotland and Mo were ready to head home, having spent exactly 2.5 seconds in each store. Meanwhile, the rest of us were on probably our fifth store, and were certainly not ready to go yet, which I argued vehemently to my husband via cell phone. Besides, I hadn't yet found that blessed piece of replacement luggage, so we couldn't go.

Thinking the matter was settled and those two would just have to stick it out, I perused one of the luggage stores again. Did I want a black bag? Or a pink one? What style would be most versatile and user friendly while being sturdy? Being that this was the second piece of luggage I have ever had the luxury of choosing for myself, I was taking the whole thing very seriously and considering every possibility against the one suitcase I do have. Would the colors and styles go well together? Was it a fair price for an item I would hopefully own for several years? Would the straps hold up well (being that straps was what got me into this predicament in the first place) and did they have the right length and width for comfort?

Whilst I was in the midst of this very great and important decision making I noticed out of the corner of my eye that someone was peering in the window of the store at me. The shop girl to my right was educating me on the valuable features of a very nice bag when I recognized the window man. Husband. And not only was it husband, but he had a store bag in his hand that he was attempting to remove an item from. And then he was holding up said item, a blue and tan bag of the exact same shape and style of my now unusable bag. He had a big smile on his face while he pointed to the bag and motioned for me to come out of the store.

My jaw dropped. What had he done! I didn't want that bag, this was my big chance to get something I really wanted that matched my other maroon suitcase and he had gone and picked up any old thing just so we could leave!!!!!! I was furious!

Chaos ensued as I left the shop girl holding the black bag and went tearing out of that store to verbally ream my husband and demand that he return the bag. Just as I reached him, Mo, Pants and Kari showed up as well, and their laughing at my goofy husband saved him from the head severing I had in mind for him. (I just can't yell at him when there are other people around.) No one understood why I was so mad, and as usual, I couldn't articulate it at the time, so I pouted as we headed back to the van.

It took me a little while to give up on my grudge and accept the bag. I really didn't want to, I figured maybe Scotland would adopt it and I would be free once again to find the perfect item to replace it. But as time has passed, I have realized three very important things. One, my husband will never give up his old army bags as his preferred form of luggage because to him luggage is no big deal. It doesn't matter. Two, I have to consciously force myself to let go of the anger I was harboring from this incident and constantly tell myself "It's not a big deal. It is just an ugly bag" as I am lugging it from place to place.  And the third thing? Shortly after we returned from this infamous vacation, I had just unpacked my maroon suitcase and lifted it to carry it upstairs, when I noticed that the plastic handle was severely mangled on the trip home and is...irreparable.

Yay! New luggage!

And guess who will not be coming when I pick it out?

Cowboy dad

Why boys always ruin pictures

It wasn't until the last picture...

...that I realized what he was doing....

Is there something ingrained in boys that makes them try to ruin pictures?

I love you but I don't want to see your goofy face in a picture I am trying to get of the two of us.

Good grief.

Lacie's wedding pics

My cousin Lacie got married this weekend, and as you can see from her decorations, that girl has creativity flowing in her veins!   It was tons of fun and so cute!

Her guest book? Quilt squares which she will sew into a beautiful quilt in her wedding colors.

Her wedding favors? Flower seeds in tiny little clay pots.

Her food and drinks? Fruit kabobs and cake in her colors and lemonade dispensed from a little lemonade stand that she built.

Her decor? Watering cans with flowers and an arbor that she built with old gates on either side.

Her cake? Fondant shaped into quilt squares.

 (Her mother, my aunt Carolyn did the fondant for the cake!)

How beautiful!

Finding service

Last night, as I was attempting to call my husband to tell him goodnight, I was met with resistance as my cell phone repeatedly flashed at me. "Not in service area" it said, no matter what window or door I stood next to. I was immediately annoyed.

How dare I lose service whilst in a cabin in the middle of nowhere! Doesn't my phone know I have to make this call? That I have to speak to my sweet husband on our eleven month anniversary that I left him alone for on this crazy trip? Not acceptable!

I was on the verge of crying, feeling like the worst wife that had ever walked the planet, when an encompassing feeling of peace came over my soul. I took a deep breath, and calmly started walking around the cabin, up the stairs and down, by windows and doors, patiently waiting for my phone to indicate there was enough service to call, even if I had to stand on my head to do it.

Nothing. Nada. Zip.

I was desperate for service. Desperate to have that feeling of closure to the day, to be there for someone that needed me. And it was hard to find.

After I had crawled into bed, disappointed but resigned to my fate, I rolled over to check my phone one last time and found just enough bars to make my phone call. It was a sweet and blissful conversation with my Scotland. I was so relieved to be able to hear his voice, his smooth Kentucky accent and buttery chuckle sounded like they have never sounded before. And I thought to myself, Heavenly Father knew I needed service today. He knew I needed this. And I felt peace.

This weekend my cousin Lacie got married, and in a show of support, my mom's side of the family sent as many members as they could on the six hour trek to the tiny town of Torrey, Utah. We met my other aunt and several cousins down there and all banded together to help with the setup, serving and take down of Lacie's wedding. We made frosting and cut fruit and set out decorations. We served cake and fruit kabobs and lemonade. We cleaned up and did dishes and took out the trash. We came back to our cabin and fell tiredly into our beds. It was exhausting work, but truly one of the most satisfying marathons of service that I have had in a long time.

And do you know what? Heavenly Father knew I needed service today. He knew I needed this. I was searching for a way to get out of my own head. To forget my own struggles and work for someone else. And because of the wonderful people that I have the privilege of being related to, it was a very sweet experience indeed.

Sometimes you just need a little bit of service for your soul.

I love this guy.

As I was leaving the house this morning, just like most other mornings, I was struck with that longing. That, I don't want to go kind of longing. I love my house. I love being here and being comfortable and all that comes with it. I love knowing where I am and where I belong. I love it when our legs are intertwined as we sit on the couch, just hanging out together. I love when we both work together on a project that has meaning to us. Like ripping up the pepto pink shag carpet together. I loved that.

I don't think I ever really believed that whole "home is where the heart is" thing. I had always replaced the "home" with "family" and that was what made sense to me. But I think I actually have found a place where I do feel like my heart is there. And naturally, it would not be the same without those people, the family I love, my sweet husband. But it is now both. And last night, as Scotland and I discussed the our options, the topic of selling the house and moving came up. And it made me sick to think about it. Because for the first time in my life, I don't want to move. I don't look at it as an adventure and something fun and different anymore. I like where we are at.

Huh. Wow. I like where we are at.

If you had told me I would feel like that a year ago, when we were just getting ready to put an offer on this house, when Scotland had to talk me into it, and I made lists of the pros and cons and worried about living in a "grandma's house" I would never have believed you. (prize for the longest run-on sentence ever!) I never could have believed that I would really be liking where we are a year down the road. But what can I say? Grandma's playhouse has grown on me, because we made it ours.

So tonight, I will leave my heart at home, where my husband can come home and find it while I am away for the weekend. But I will still be longing for home, and longing for him while I am gone. Wishing for those ruby slippers, so I can click my heels and be home again.

Cat nap

If I were a cat...

I most certainly would take naps on the bookshelf.

Absorb all that knowledge, ya see.

And it would be great up there...

Until I wanted to get down...

The water pump

When you first start pumping that rusty old handle, nothing comes out but a few squeaks and groans. But with a little faith and some hard work, perhaps even some sweat mixed with tears, eventually a small stream of cool water comes forth out of the steel lips of that pump. And if you keep pumping, even after you think that you should give up, that small stream turns into a gushing river of water, flowing out of the mouth of that rusty old pump with reckless abandon. Flowing with such force that even if you were to stop pumping it, it would still keep flowing. And when it starts to dwindle back down to a small trickle, all it would take is one or two forceful pumps to get that river back again.

I feel like that water pump today.

Dear Magic Eight Ball...

Is it bad that I waited until after Scotland and I cleaned house to announce that plans had changed and we were actually going to KJ's house instead of having them over for game night?

Is it bad that when we were sitting there playing Ticket to Ride, I held KJ's almost six month old and for a moment pretended he was mine before handing him back when he needed a diaper change?

Is it bad that I am planning one last big hurrah of a trip to Sam's Club this month before my membership expires so I don't have to renew it for six months?

Is it bad that I give Scotland the evil eye whenever I check his debit card and discover he went out to eat without me, but I am planning to run over to Taco Time in fifteen minutes and will pay with cash so he doesn't find out?

Is it bad that I am planning on re-gifting the picture frame wedding gift I received and don't have room for to my cousin who is getting married this weekend?

Is it bad that even though I have tons of work to do today, instead I am posting on my blog and making wish lists and to do lists for my house?

All Signs Point to Yes

Things I learned from "The Wizard of Oz"

I watched "The Wizard of Oz" last night.

In all it's technicolor glory.

And it occurred to me that there are many lessons that one can learn from it.

These are the ones that are directly applicable to me right now.

1. Sometimes we go looking for something that is already inside of us. The sweetest tin man you will ever meet already had the heart he went looking for. The traits you are searching for are within you already, but you just don't recognize them because they aren't in the shape you expect. Focus on recognizing those traits and magnifying them rather than expecting to find them someday.

2. Life is often gray and boring while your dreams are full of color and sparkle. But that doesn't mean you would rather live in your dreams instead of life. It is fine to go there for a while, to dream big and impossible things. But at the end of the day, you would rather have real life, even when it is the same thing each day. Because that is where you really live, with the people you love.

3. Take courage and jump in when you need to. The cowardly lion did not let his fears overcome him when he needed to help the scarecrow and tin man save Dorothy. He acknowledged the fear, and then with a little help from his friends, he went forward. Don't let your fears cripple you when it comes time to jump in. Just push forward and do your best to conquer what frightens you.

4. Find your yellow brick road, and stick to it. Dorothy decided what she wanted, and where she needed to go and then got on that road and stuck with it. No matter what might try and throw you off the path, keep going and endure to the end. And if you come across a few friends who will help you along the way, all the better.

5. And finally, just for fun. All a girl really needs is a great pair of shoes....

To make you laugh...

Last night I came upon a website that had me laughing so hard I thought I was going to pop my stitches. (No I don't have stitches, they glued me back together, doncha know?)

And today, while I should be working, I am unable to stop flipping back to said website to review the archives.

Did I mention this site makes me laugh? Which is a bit embarrassing when the office is completely silent, and then my guffawing laughter fills the space and everyone wonders what I am high on...

Tounge in cheek humor, sarcasm and wit. Everything I want to be when I grow up.

Cakewrecks

You won't regret it. Really. Unless of course you would be embarrassed by laughing out loud amidst clueless other people. Then you might (but only for a little bit).

Happier when my head is in the clouds

Sometimes reality hits me in the face like a Mack Truck.

***Bam***

And then I look around, all sorts of dazed at being knocked out of the clouds that my head resides in the majority of the time. I look around and wonder, 'what happened?' and it takes me a moment to get my bearings again.

Like when I get an invitation in the mail for my ten year high school reunion.

*** BAM ***

***TEN YEARS!?!?! WHAT THE H???***

And then I have to shake the cobwebs out of my head and realize,

"yeah, it really has been ten years... wow, it doesn't seem that long...."

and I contemplate that for a while until eventually I return to the little cloud my head resides upon.

The place where reality doesn't phase me.

Incognito

You could say I have been on a mission, lately. A mission to keep my private life... well... private from the individuals I work with. For the most part, this mission just requires my vague answers to personal questions and generally keeping my mouth shut at work. And typically it works quite well and is pretty easily done. However today was a different story.

I had a doctor's appointment scheduled for today as a followup to my surgery from two weeks ago. As I was finishing up a few things at work and getting ready to go, the pregnant woman I work with headed out the door. She was apparently headed to the doctor at the same time as me. And what is more, she was headed to the same doctor as me.

Well, this was a bit of a problem for me, since I had been trying keep my coworkers in the dark about the nature of my surgery, and seeing the preggo one at the OBGYN's office was not the best way to do that.

I drove to the doctor contemplating how I could manage to avoid seeing her there. I even considered skipping out on the appointment, but rescinded after remembering the list of questions I had brought with me for the doctor.

Her car was parked right out front, so I parked around the corner in the employee parking section. Before I headed in, I slipped on a jacket and a pair of sunglasses I keep in my car. Then I threw my hair in a messy bun and checked my reflection in the mirror.

Oh yeah. Really good. Now I just look like a sloppier version of myself...

But there was not much I could do, so I tentatively approached the doors. I had arrived just late enough that she was not in the waiting room anymore. I quietly said my name to the receptionist, who had to lean forward to hear me. Then I went to the furthest corner of the room and grabbed some reading material to hold up in front of my face.

At this point I should probably mention that since it was an OBGYN office, the reading material was a book of baby pictures. Yeah. Just what I needed.

Keeping my sunglasses on, I periodically peeked over the top of the book, keeping a wary eye out for said coworker. The nurse called me back and we slipped into the little alcove where they weigh you and take your vitals. I heard someone coming around the corner, so I casually put my hand up and ducked my head to shield my face from view. A pair of scrub pants walked past the alcove. I let out the breath I had been holding. The nurse that was sitting with me gave me a quizzical look and told me to relax, as I had disrupted the blood pressure screening. She ran it again as I looked around nervously. Finally, she said she would take me to an exam room, and proceeded to lead me down the longest hall ever made. As we were almost to the end, the door in front of me opened up and I heard the doctor ushering his patient out the door. She was turned to face him with her back to me as he gave her instructions on when her next appointment should be. I was almost to the door they were coming out of when she turned around and came face to face with me.

And then I died.

Because it wasn't her, it was just someone with the same colored jacket as her.

And she walked past me with that barely contained enthusiastic smile that newly pregnant women always have.

I walked into the exam room at the end of the hall and the nurse shut the door behind me. I sat next to the door, and a few moments later, heard the voice of the woman I work with as she walked down the hall.

I had barely made it.

So the doctor came in and did his thing and I asked a brazillion and one questions and then headed out the door. Her car was gone, and I was completely relieved. The referee in my mind yelled "Safe" as he waved his arms in front of me.