BUTTERFLY TAKES SOME PHOTOS

Blogger is having a "I won't download" fit tonight so I will delay Butterfly's day out with Grandma--her birthday present--for a day or two. Here she is, isn't she beautiful? She took the following photos on the way home. Timpanogos Mountain.

Rocks up Provo Canyon.

This is where Butterfly's parents had their wedding receipt ion. It's less than two miles from where they live. She had never seen it.

And that's it. She took some more great photos but Blogger is really "on one" or maybe it is "off one." Anyway, perhaps tomorrow will be better.

I had a great day with Butterfly. She has a great imagination and is really well informed about current events and even things like the Vietnam War. We had some interesting discussions. How I love her.

THE PHISH TICKETS TRAUMA AND GLORIA'S LITTLE ITALY

This morning Phil and I sat in front of two computers and also had phones to our ears--redialing 100 times--trying to buy Phish tickets. Two hours and twenty minutes later I was frazzled. We all know that the best remedy for all sorts of malady's, including depression and frazzledness, is work, so I started to clean the kitchen. And then, since I am a little bit ADD I decided to put my letter in the mailbox. And then, still ADDing I took a walk in the sun. And then, my friend Pam just happened to drive by and snatched me from my distraction and jitterness and we went to Gloria's Little Italy.

Gloria's has moved. They are now on the corner of University Ave and Center Street in Provo. They have done a fine job of decorating......and, even though they were out of eggplant Parmesan--my favorite, the minestrone soup was very good.
I told Pam to let me take her picture. 1st attempt.2nd attempt. That's one of the things I love about Pam. She obliges my every whim. We sat in the sun--Gloria's glorious bit of sun.
In the summer we will go back and order gelato. Every flavor.Pam talked all sorts of smartness, giving me much to think about and now, of course, I can't remember half of it so I hope she stays true to her assignment and puts it all in an email.

What are the odds of my stopping in the middle of my clean-till-you-drop frenzy to mail a letter and THEN take a walk so I would still be outside when Pam drove by? And why did she drive by at the exact minute when I was outside? You may all disagree but I think the Holy Ghost nudged both of us because I needed my feathers smoothed and needed a sympathetic friend because I wasn't totally successful at ticket procuring and I felt bad.

The Phish tickets are for Lord Bumhampton and his charming wife, Nurse Giggleswitch. They are taking a road trip this summer and will go to some Phish concerts and see some of the US of A.

And by the looks of the Phish calendar front page, they will have a great time, even if we didn't get all the tickets they wanted.

SPRING, WHEREFORE ART THOU

Snow, falling, packing, frictionless, cars sliding, feet slipping, cold. Shivers. Sweaters, coats, gloves, dripping off chairs, drying out.Spring and summer water, growing from snow memories in bands of velvet green.

Children playing, outdoor dinners, redneck fashion, lazy eating. Dad and daughter, silly-shirt-laughter.

Hurry spring. Kids are growing, seeds are waiting, lawn mower needs a turn. Lonely for springs promise, summer's bounty, the work of fall in mason jars and then...again, the snow will come. But now, oh so lonely for the spring.

CANDY CANE BROOMS

THE KITCHEN WINDOW

The kitchen window ......with a tiny pot crafted by our son. It's holding a wishbone. I'm saving it for or our grandson who wants to have a wish.

Topiary, crafted by me. The ivy helped by growing and growing, even when it doesn't get watered promptly.

Moon hanging. Recipes, a friend gave me this holder--she made it. I added a magnet of time--but it only has one hand so time is never up.

Another friend said, "You'll love this. A pot with a smile."

Another gave this holder...

...I added a picture of Jesus.

A long time ago, too long to remember, another friend, gave me this heart candle. I tossed in some rose buds from a store that is now gone.

In this window are flowers.

A Cyclamen, with a bud that's... ...that's half hidden.

The geranium is blooming... ...and not yet. It looks like it's snowing but the window needs washing. Phil will get the ladder and soap. He's like that, doing everything I need.

I love to cook in this kitchen and he loves to eat. It's a good trade off.

I didn't realize so many friends, and one son, contributed to my window. I actually think of them often, when I'm reading a recipe, saving a wish, I think of them all, with the lovely/funny things they gave me. How I love each item in the "still life" of my window, and I love each of my friends, and my son, and my hungry husband who makes sure there are flowers in my window.

BUTTERFLY TURNS NINE

Happy Birthday to our Granddaughter.

Butterfly turned nine this week and said she would choose Cherry Cream Cheese pie over a cake if she could have a WHOLE pie to herself. Her mother said she could, and then she let Grandma's have a piece out of her own private pie. Isn't that nice? It was very good.

One of her siblings sidled up to me earlier and whispered in my ear, "We're having Cherry Cream Cheese Pie." He made the pie announcement in a true secret-kid-spy sort of way. A this-is-the-most-delightful-secret sort of way

Butterfly is a wonderful girl, very "butterflyish" and she has a passion for horses and Celtic dance.

I missed the fire and the blowing-out-of-the-fire because I am technologically challenged.

"This is my own private pie. Don't bother with the cherries, I'll just eat it 'as is'"
"She's not really going to eat the whole thing, is she? I'm pretty sure I need a piece."

"Me too." Of course it sounded like "blah-blahhh" but I knew what he meant. His sister is giving him kisses. She's generous, like that. She gave both Phil and I wonderful hugs, too.

Note: ACK! My arthritic computer is acting up. Blogger took fifteen minutes to load these photos and fifteen minutes to NOT LOAD another batch. It loaded one--on my cookbook site--on it's head. It took fifteen minutes to load it wrong and fifteen minutes to re-do it--the pie photo.

So... even though I have lots more photos to load I'm shutting down before I become so frustrated that I go berserk. What's the use of spending energy going berserk if no one is up to see it and give you sympathy? Besides that, this is the second night in a row that I won't bet to bed before 2:00. I am almost in the walking-into-walls condition.

Blogger ought to be spanked, that's all I have to say.

Happy Birthday, Butterfly. You are a charming, hard working, excellent girl, who always seems so happy. Both Grandpa and I think you are wonderful.

OVERHEARD YESTERDAY

"If you have a brain like mine and when you are as old as I am you can think up some amazing things."

Not the exact quote but close--and he is an amazing boy. I adore him.

(Pictures of his sister's birthday party to follow, maybe later today.)

This should be said by ALL of us. We can and should think up some amazing things and then do some amazing things, too.

What amazing things will you think up/do this week?

I'm going to start planning my lesson for Relief Society--I teach in March. Read the scriptures and the Ensign. Make an amazing dinner--I can't for the life of me find where I saw that recipe yesterday. Figure out who I can assign two new features I want to incorporate in our Relief Society Bulletin. And deliver some late birthday presents and Christmas treats--I know, a month late! sigh These may not be amazing to you but to me, today, IF I GET THEM ALL DONE, it will be amazing.

And call Pet's Mart and sign Kramer up for potty training classes. sigh.

SUNDAY'S "MORE FUN"

Sorry I didn't blog last night. I had blog-block. Here's yesterday's "More fun" post.

When I got to church yesterday I nearly broke a rib leaning across the passenger seat to lock the back door and the front door and then...with a little clown car humor...the doors unlocked. All of them. More leaning, more ribs protesting, more locking, more unlocking. And more. And more. I'm not sure, but I thought I heard a little muffled car laughter. "Muffled." Get it?

Kramer was on the piano last night. Yes, the piano.

The last sanctuary of the cats. Not on top of the piano, just on the covered keyboard part. I think the top of the piano, and the clerk, are about the only places he won't be able to reach. And hopefully on top of the kitchen table.

This is the clerk. (And yes, some of the Christmas decorations are still up.)

Here's a close-up of my little Laplander girl, Lizbet. You can see why I don't want her to be used as a chew toy.

Kramer's perch this morning, where he barks at...nothing. Oh joy.

The fun never stops.

AND I stepped on dog poo IN THE HOUSE this morning. (Holding my head in my hands. I don't want to talk about it.)

MORE FUN THAT NEVER SEEMS TO END

Yesterday Kramer brought me a gift.He kept some of it. He's generous but not totally generous. He has made such a mess that today the floors got vacuumed and then I found this on the couch and more on the floor.

"Kramer! What have you done?"

He showed me. He is a big dog now and thinks he has every right to jump on the furniture and on top of the furniture too, just like the disobedient cats.

He got his prize. What you lookin' at? I can't be bothered with you. I have a mess to make.

So, I cleaned up Kramer's mess...again...and looked at the table in the living room and thought, well, since this is about the only place in the house uncluttered I'll take a picture.

Five minutes later we heard a crash and when we went upstairs we found books--that should be on the table--on the floor and my little Laplander girl had been moved. Kramer, of course took off . I could hear his toenails clicking in the kitchen.

This little Laplander is one of my favorite winter decorating items. She had been moved, I'm guessing the wee dog with clicking toenails had something to do with it.

Since she is made of wood--hand carved in Norway--I think Mr. Clickingtoenails thought she would make a nice chew toy. She now sits on the clerk--a small desk that is too little to be a secretary. I don't think he can jump that high.

Yet.

The fun never ends.