I wandered onto a blog today and you know what? The poor prefect woman who had the perfect life and a couple of perfect children and was married to the perfect man with sparkling teeth was whining because she couldn't loose five pounds.
But then I noticed her blog had all the paragraphs running together. Huge blocks of text depress me and she had already depressed me with her perfect life, except for that pesky five pounds, that is.
Another woman's blog I wandered into was feeling sorry for herself because she had a child that wasn't in school so she could have free time. There are a million women who would love to have a child. Period. I was always sorry when my kids went back to school.
Then I ran across this quote:
"Some luck lies in not getting what you thought you wanted but getting what you have, which once you have got it you may be smart enough to see is what you would have wanted had you known." ~Garrison Keillor
And I decided to be happy that I am me and she is she and never the twain shall meet. Or some such nonsense. And I'm going to bed now, actually before midnight.
One last thought:
"Bad is never good until worse happens." ~Danish Proverb
Which reminds me of the punchline to that old "it could be worse" joke: "It could be me." And we are glad it's not, aren't we?
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
ESCAPING CATS
I have one room in the house that is cat free. The bedroom. In order to get proper air flow through the house Phil installed a latch. It worked for years until Pika realized that she only looks big, she's actually tiny under all that fur and she could slip through a door that is open less than three inches. We have found her in the bedroom several times and as soon as she sees us she zips under the bed. So we leave the door open, hoping she will come out. This invites Minkey in. He knows he's not supposed to be in there either and as soon as he sees us he zips under the bed too. Now there are two zippy cats in my cat-free room.
looking at all the stuff you worry about me getting into." I don't actually think she'll eat plant food but how would it look if you had to take a cat to the vet with an overdose of Miracle Gro?
She won't come when called. If I walk toward her, her usual pokey attitude changes into a Zippidy-do-da one and she zips away. 
The next time I go to take a tray to the garage she's waiting by the door. "I'll come in now but you can't walk toward me or I'll do my zippy thing again." I have to wait in the kitchen,
while she sniffs the door jam and takes her time. Then when she gets inside she stops to grooms herself, as if she were bored with all the zippy behavior.
But, she knows I've been going to the garden for more tomatoes so she...
plants herself by the slider, waiting for her chance to escape to another forbidden place. 
The door is open but she's ignoring it, hoping I will leave it open and walk away but I want to see what she'll do.
"Oh, is that an open door? I had no idea."
"I'm sure she meant for me to come outside. I'll just sniff the door jam first."
And then she gets serious.
In her "serious getting," she sends some kind of inaudible signal to Minkey, who was sound asleep, downstairs. He wakes up with a jerk and races upstairs to find Pika's open door.
The both sniff things to make sure they are not going to be stepping on a camouflaged dog.
Pilka looks all around for dogs. There hasn't been a dog in the back yard for years and she got along great with Sebastian when he was alive anyway. But she checks, just to make sure.
Minkey watches her make her leap to freedom. I caught her and scooted both of them back inside. They don't have claws and I can't take chances that they will get hurt.
But, they were not happy. This is what I found later.
How does a cat with no claws do this? 
They must have been really angry at me. Tomorrow they are plotting how to open the bedroom door by themselves and sleep on my pillow. I just know it.
The other day we couldn't get them out and we had to leave. When we came home we could see they had had a nice cat-nap in my cat-free room on my cat-free bed.
I have been drying tomatoes. Every time I take a tray to the garage to put in the dehydrator Pika escapes to the garage, even though she knows she's not supposed to be there.
Here she is saying, "Ha ha. I'm out here,
looking at all the stuff you worry about me getting into." I don't actually think she'll eat plant food but how would it look if you had to take a cat to the vet with an overdose of Miracle Gro?
She won't come when called. If I walk toward her, her usual pokey attitude changes into a Zippidy-do-da one and she zips away. The next time I go to take a tray to the garage she's waiting by the door. "I'll come in now but you can't walk toward me or I'll do my zippy thing again." I have to wait in the kitchen,while she sniffs the door jam and takes her time. Then when she gets inside she stops to grooms herself, as if she were bored with all the zippy behavior.But, she knows I've been going to the garden for more tomatoes so she...plants herself by the slider, waiting for her chance to escape to another forbidden place. The door is open but she's ignoring it, hoping I will leave it open and walk away but I want to see what she'll do."Oh, is that an open door? I had no idea.""I'm sure she meant for me to come outside. I'll just sniff the door jam first."And then she gets serious.In her "serious getting," she sends some kind of inaudible signal to Minkey, who was sound asleep, downstairs. He wakes up with a jerk and races upstairs to find Pika's open door.The both sniff things to make sure they are not going to be stepping on a camouflaged dog.Pilka looks all around for dogs. There hasn't been a dog in the back yard for years and she got along great with Sebastian when he was alive anyway. But she checks, just to make sure.Minkey watches her make her leap to freedom. I caught her and scooted both of them back inside. They don't have claws and I can't take chances that they will get hurt.But, they were not happy. This is what I found later.How does a cat with no claws do this? They must have been really angry at me. Tomorrow they are plotting how to open the bedroom door by themselves and sleep on my pillow. I just know it.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
WOMEN'S CONFERENCE AND THEN A "RELAXING" SUNDAY
Last night was the Women's Conference for the LDS Church. I went with Gilmore Girl to our Stake Center where we watched the broadcast. It was really nice. I wrote--in the dark--some of what I heard President Dieter F. Uchtdorf's say about creating and a bit of other stuff: Everyone can create. You don't have to have money or influence to create. To create is one of the yearnings of the human soul. You are spirit daughters of the most creative being in the Universe. Your spirit body is a masterpiece. Don't let the fear of failure discourage you. The more you rely on the Spirit the better you will be able to create. Be compassionate--lift up the hands that hang down. Those who bring sunshine to other's cannot keep it from themselves. Happiness is your heritage!
After the broadcast we met The Soap Queen at the Outback Steakhouse and I have one thing to say about the bloomin' onion, which I see on their website, is cut by a dedicated bloomologist. If you ever tire of your career you could take bloomology and become dedicated. The one thing I had to say was there is enough grease on that onion to slick up a cat so she could slip through a mouse hole. Who knows what it does to a human being's innards. It can't be good.
Can you tell he's thirteen? Every time I tried to take his picture he made a face.
Yes, he's a teenager, now.
After the broadcast we met The Soap Queen at the Outback Steakhouse and I have one thing to say about the bloomin' onion, which I see on their website, is cut by a dedicated bloomologist. If you ever tire of your career you could take bloomology and become dedicated. The one thing I had to say was there is enough grease on that onion to slick up a cat so she could slip through a mouse hole. Who knows what it does to a human being's innards. It can't be good.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is our Relief Society Bulletin.
It's usually only two pages but today it was four. I was supposed to print the bulletin and take it to church and give it to the librarian to make a copy for each sister. The problem is I couldn't open the file when Mary Jo sent it to me. She promised to send it in another form but it never came and then...taa daa...I forgot about it until after Sacrament meeting today.
I panicked and found Mary Jo, who is the nursery leader. "You've got to go home and resend it to me so I can print it off." We snagged the first woman who walked in the door and told her to watch the kids, give them a lesson and snacks and we flew. Well, we started to fly and then realized neither of us had a car at church. We grabbed the first woman we saw in the hall and she drove us to Mary Jo's house. Mary Jo sent me the attachment and then we flew to my house in Mary Jo's truck and when I way "flew" I mean flew. That girl drives!
But, my email program didn't have her email yet. It had to go all of six blocks. I guess it went by way of China, where they added something that causes kidney stones. I pushed "send and receive" twenty-'leven times. Still no email. Luckily she had her thumb drive and that worked. We printed it off and on the way out the door I slammed my skirt in door! 
After we freed me we flew again--really we did. I hung on like my life depended on it. We screeched into the parking lot at 2:40 and I got the bulletin to the library on time.
When I got home after church I checked email and her email and attachment came at 2:46. China had indeed added something but I didn't breathe or drink and I think I'm all right. Hack. Cough. Sputter.
After we freed me we flew again--really we did. I hung on like my life depended on it. We screeched into the parking lot at 2:40 and I got the bulletin to the library on time.When I got home after church I checked email and her email and attachment came at 2:46. China had indeed added something but I didn't breathe or drink and I think I'm all right. Hack. Cough. Sputter.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Then we went to Guitar Hero's house to take his birthday present--a sketch book, mechanical pencils, erasers, colored pencils that are erasable and other artish doo dads. 
Can you tell he's thirteen? Every time I tried to take his picture he made a face. Yes, he's a teenager, now. 
Happy Birthday, dear teenage, Guitar Hero. We love you very much. Come over and see us any time because you-know-who lives right next door and she thinks you are pretty cute. We do too, even with that ice-cream-tongue-syndrome you seem to have.
Stay clean, be good, and be happy. And know that you are loved!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Then we came home and we got thirteen bags of caramels ready for the students who had birthdays in September in the BYU 20th ward so the Bishop could hand them out at Ward Prayer. Yes, I volunteered to do this. I will have to make about a thousand three-hundred caramels for the school year. Sometimes my volunteerism gets out of hand.
I hope everyone had a wonderful Sabbath and that it resembled the day of rest better than mine did.
But it's all good. It's always all good.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
THE ANATOMY OF A MURDER
Men shower, shave, get dressed and are ready to go.
Women shower, shaves legs and arm pits, blow dries hair, curls hair, puts on moisturizer, cover-up and make-up AFTER diligently surveying the face to see if there is a stray hair that needs to be plucked, pumices her feet and then lotions her feet, lotions many other parts of the anatomy such as legs, paints the toe nails, clips, files and paints the fingernails, checks face again to make sure the eyebrows don't need plucking and then gets the magnifying glass out to survey the chin, once again, just in case, puts on pantyhose, takes pantyhose off because there is a tiny run starting, throws pantyhose in the garbage and makes a disgusted noise in the back of her throat, checks the underwear drawer for a new pair of pantyhose, finding none she throws on some clothes, goes to the store and buys some, comes home, get undressed, puts the pantyhose on, finishes dressing, crams her feet into uncomfortable shoes--are there ANY shoe that is truly comfortable...other than sandals or tennis shoes?, puts on some perfume, rechecks hair and fixes the stray lock--this is after either bleaching or dyeing or highlighting, perming or straightening her hair and having to have it cut and styled every four to six weeks--stands in front of the mirror, sucks in her stomach and thinks, I went through nine months of pregnancy, eighteen hours of labor and when they are teenagers they will ignore me or blatently rebel and all I'll have to show for it is this pouchy tummy and why isn't there a bra that is comfortable and will put the girls back where they used to be, that's all I want to know?, she makes sure the sitter has snacks and that the kids are bathed and in jammies and that the sitter has strict instructions that the kids are to be in bed on time, all the while knowing that when she gets home the kids will be up and wild as March hares because the sitter found the gummy worms that were hidden behind the saltine crackers and bribed the kids so she could watch The Office and talk on her cell phone, and the house will look like a bomb went off, all the couch cushions will be on the floor except for the one that is missing and won't be found until the shower is turned on in the morning and it is soaking wet, and then...when she is finally ready her husband says, "Why can't you ever be ready on time?"
And that is why rat poison has such brisk sales.
Women shower, shaves legs and arm pits, blow dries hair, curls hair, puts on moisturizer, cover-up and make-up AFTER diligently surveying the face to see if there is a stray hair that needs to be plucked, pumices her feet and then lotions her feet, lotions many other parts of the anatomy such as legs, paints the toe nails, clips, files and paints the fingernails, checks face again to make sure the eyebrows don't need plucking and then gets the magnifying glass out to survey the chin, once again, just in case, puts on pantyhose, takes pantyhose off because there is a tiny run starting, throws pantyhose in the garbage and makes a disgusted noise in the back of her throat, checks the underwear drawer for a new pair of pantyhose, finding none she throws on some clothes, goes to the store and buys some, comes home, get undressed, puts the pantyhose on, finishes dressing, crams her feet into uncomfortable shoes--are there ANY shoe that is truly comfortable...other than sandals or tennis shoes?, puts on some perfume, rechecks hair and fixes the stray lock--this is after either bleaching or dyeing or highlighting, perming or straightening her hair and having to have it cut and styled every four to six weeks--stands in front of the mirror, sucks in her stomach and thinks, I went through nine months of pregnancy, eighteen hours of labor and when they are teenagers they will ignore me or blatently rebel and all I'll have to show for it is this pouchy tummy and why isn't there a bra that is comfortable and will put the girls back where they used to be, that's all I want to know?, she makes sure the sitter has snacks and that the kids are bathed and in jammies and that the sitter has strict instructions that the kids are to be in bed on time, all the while knowing that when she gets home the kids will be up and wild as March hares because the sitter found the gummy worms that were hidden behind the saltine crackers and bribed the kids so she could watch The Office and talk on her cell phone, and the house will look like a bomb went off, all the couch cushions will be on the floor except for the one that is missing and won't be found until the shower is turned on in the morning and it is soaking wet, and then...when she is finally ready her husband says, "Why can't you ever be ready on time?"
And that is why rat poison has such brisk sales.
Friday, September 26, 2008
THE LENGTHS SOME MEN WILL GO TO TO CLEAN THE GARAGE
First he opens the garage and plies family with treasures.
This is one of the SEVENTEEN trunks Phil bought one day because "they were a good deal." My Mother, the Bargain-Shopper-of-the-World was so proud! Now, eons later the is one of the last trunks to go live somewhere else.
In order to make his "stuff" more interesting he pulls out the vacuum...
...and vacuums the driveway. That's my husband, Mr. Domestic.
And the garage? It is one carload more empty! Maybe with a few more carloads the car can actually live there this winter. Now wouldn't that be a miracle?
Notice to family members--come one, come all, help clean the beastly garage. It's your duty. Unless, that is, your garage is full too.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
MINKEY, THE LONESOME CAT, NEEDS SOME LOVES
Phil and I went to the movie this afternoon without Minkey's permission. When we got home he followed me around complaining. When I sat down at the computer he sat in front of the printer telling me off.
Then he ventured onto my lap.
First he checked out what I was doing on the computer. It was boring so...
...he licked me. He licked my fingers,
he licked my wrist,
he licked my arm.
I moved my hand so he licked my other hand.
And he purred and purred. I won't be getting anything done on the computer for awhile. I will be scratching Minkey behind the ears and on the back. I have moved him but he comes right back. Scratching Minkey some more...and some more...sigh...and some more.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
WHEN BABIES GROW UP
Yesterday's post showed a baby so I thought I'd show you my baby. This is Her Excellency of Mousehole and the Boarder. The Boarder isn't mine but I love him like he were.
They were here yesterday and I wanted pictures of them. They agreed...maybe a little too easily. Look at those faces, there is trouble brewing.
Sure, you can take our pictures. 
Smile for your mother.
Okay, since she's taking pictures lets give her a good one.
" Okay, I'm ready," Her Excellency said." No, wait for me," The Boarder said.
"There!" he said. "How's that? This is my 'pirate' imitation."
" He says, 'Wait for me,' and then he makes a face without me! How fair is that?" she said."Maybe not fair but it was a dang good face," he said.
"Okay, this time for sure," they said together.
"Taa Daa!"
"How'd we do? "
"We did good. You love us, don't 'cha?"
Yes, I do, my beautiful, funny baby and handsome, goofy Boarder. And now, today I miss you, too. Are you coming back soon?
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