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Thursday, May 29, 2014

I'm over my head and it sure feels nice

I am soldiering on in my guitar studies, which I think is brave of me.  Not brave like going to war, or brave like Gwyneth Paltrow reading rude comments about herself on the internet (which is also like going to war) but brave in the way that making yourself do something hard that you're not good at and letting other people see just how not good at it you are is brave.  That was a confusing sentence.  Anyhoodle, I am trying to play "I Don't Want to Know" by Fleetwood Mac, and it is just a fun little song.  Fleetwood Mac is an interesting band to me, how they were able to turn their personal turmoil into such compelling music.  I don't know how they did it.  I remember once Craig Kilborn said during his stint as host of the Daily Show, "Stevie Nicks--everything that was wrong with the seventies in one rapidly-expanding package."  That was mean-spirited of him.  She does sing a little bit like a goat sometimes, though.

What ever happened to Craig Kilborn?  What is he doing these days?  I had a crush on him during college because he was so tall and handsome and bratty.  What if Stevie Nicks is a real witch, and she has cursed Craig Kilborn's career because he said that mean thing?  I would not put it past her--she wears a lot of black, you know.  Did people ever accuse Johnny Cash of being a warlock?  Or did he bypass that because SEXISM? 

Friday, May 23, 2014

running down the gutter with a piece of bread and butter

I started growing my hair out because I was sick of my A-line bob, and then I thought why not grow it out and donate it to Locks of Love, and now it's just past my shoulders and the road to donation stretches interminably before me, winding into the distance.  My hair is in a really ugly, awkward stage, that as I extrapolate its future appearance using current data sets (what it looks like now, with a few more inches imagined on) becomes more unflattering by the day.  I can take some frumpishness for the little children, but how do I mitigate it?

I noticed today that I accidentally keep dressing like Paula Deen.  Not sure what to do about this, because summer dressing is hard.  How do you stay cool and stylish at the same time?  Because, in case you didn't catch the subtext, dressing like Paula Deen is not a personal style I want to adopt.  There is a certain kind of woman of which Paula Deen is a prime example.  Big hair, fake nails, heavy makeup, orange-ish tan, flashy jewelry, tunics in loud colors like turquoise and coral with white capri leggings.  Apple-shaped, brash and bawdy, these women are a colorful, exciting ingredient in the great stew of humanity, but it is not in my nature to be one myself.  I would concede that I am brash and bawdy in my own way, but not in this particular way, this way that makes me think of Arizona and Florida.

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

tell me that you've heard every sound there is

Yesterday I tried to have a nap when I got home from my errands, and I'm not going to try to justify midday sleeping to you guys.  That's not why I'm here.  I'm here to complain about the six telephone calls and multiple texts I got instead of the nap I wanted so badly.  What gives?  Normally early afternoon is a dead time and I can do what I want, boohoo! 

On Sunday a guy who was speaking in Sacrament meeting was talking about the David and Goliath story, and read a verse in which David describes Goliath as an "uncircumcised Philistine," and Grant turned to me and said, "UNcircumcised?"  One topic led to another, and that's how we ended up discussing female genital mutilation in church, ta-da!  And last Friday Willa asked me what sex was, so we had that discussion.  I feel very effective for tackling so many tricky subjects in such a short time.  

Friday, May 16, 2014

to lead a better life, I need my love to be here

I worked very hard yesterday, moving the rabbits (boo) and the chickens (boo) into the chain-link-enclosed section of our back yard that used to be the garden, before I found my new straw bale garden religion.  I threw heavy cinder blocks around on the ground in an attempt to get them to release the bricks of rabbits feces that had been compacted in the holes.  I swapped two heavy sections of chain link fence so the gate would be on the other side.  I moved some heavy pots and heavy bags of potting mix.  In sum, I did all the heavy things.  And I was worn out.  Last night Grant was begging to watch a few more minutes of Avatar, and I told him I was so tired and needed to go to bed, and he asked incredulously, "What did you do?"  As though the idea of me doing anything to the point of physical exhaustion is incomprehensible.  Man, that kid is so blunt.  He maybe needs his face slapped for being so sassy. 

Yesterday afternoon I went shopping for a tomato ladder since my cages are too fat for the pot, and at the IFA they had chicks that are already in the Skeksis stage, so they could go right outside with a heating lamp.  I bought four.  We put them in the little chicken coop I had emptied earlier, and when they get big we'll throw them in with Brad and Penguin (the current, eggless chickens).  Sally is bagging up, so I guess we'll probably have some goat babies in the next few days.  The bees have made the craziest labyrinth of honeycomb in their hive with no regard whatsoever to the orientation of the frames.  That's cool, bees.  You do you.  I'm just glad they've got a place to call home and that they seem to be thriving. 

Today I found a bunch of snails in my front garden and threw them onto the road to be smashed.  My life is very cool.  

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

you look like a drunk on the go

Well, the guitar recital is over and done with and I'm glad to be on this side of it.  My mom recorded my song on her phone and then sent it to my sisters, and I didn't see it until afterward and it was pretty much one of the worst songs I've ever heard.  Barf, barf, barf.  I was cringing and covering my eyes and ears while watching it, and Grant said, "Yeah, you sang flat.  You always sing that song flat."  Thanks, son, for the kind words of encouragement and whatnot.  In the interest of full disclosure, John says it was the compression of texting a video that made it sound so horrible, and that aside from some anxiety-related flatness at the beginning it was very good.  But also he is my husband, so he could be lying.  But also we are very honest with each other, so maybe not.  Ugh, I just am totally grossed out.

Last night we had a youth activity in which we divided all the kids up into four groups and gave each group a box.  Inside each box were ingredients and a recipe for either an appetizer, a side dish, an entree, or a dessert.  Each group went to a different house in the ward and cooked their dish, then one hour later we met back at the church to eat the results.  I did the menu because last time we did something like this we ended up with a bunch of casserole-type things made with noodles and various kinds of canned cream soup, and I was hoping for a better experience. We had bruschetta, pork tenderloin, roasted cauliflower and green salad, and molten lava cakes.  Some of the kids made squick noises about the pinkness of the tenderloin, but I assured them that it was normal.  Well-done meat is an abomination and they may as well learn it now.  I don't mind telling you I was a little frazzled trying to figure out how to get a meal prepared for thirty-something kids and their attendant adult leaders in an hour.  But we did it, and I was so impressed with how great everything turned out.  Aw, these kids today.  There's hope for society yet. 

Wednesday, May 7, 2014

a tiny something

This Sunday I am participating in an interfaith day of fasting and prayer for the kidnapped Nigerian girls, and I invite you to do so as well.  Mormons have a practice of fasting for two meals/24 hours once a month and donating the money that would have been spent on those meals (or as much as you wish) to the church to help the poor and needy--for example, when there is a disaster we are often asked to increase our fast offerings to double or more what they normally are, to contribute to the Humanitarian Aid arm of the church.  For this fast our family will be donating to a charity that helps fund education and/or economic empowerment of women, such as malalafund.org or kiva.org.

Also, if you want to fast in a more personal way, here is a link to a google doc where you can sign up to fast for a specific girl.  

I realize that it seems like a pretty anemic response to a horrifying event, but it's something. 

Monday, May 5, 2014

first things first, get what you deserve

I planted one tomato and six strawberry plants today.  I am excited.

Ike really, really wanted to celebrate Cinco de Mayo, so we had tacos and curtido and margaritas and asparagus--we figure the asparagus was maybe grown in Mexico, even if it's not a traditionally Mexican food.  Did I tell you guys that I ate huitlacoche recently?  John and I went to the Frida Bistro in Salt Lake, and as soon as I saw huitlacoche on the menu I knew I had to try it.  Huitlacoche is the fancy word for corn smut.  It looks like this:

It came in the form of corn tortilla quesadillas.  It might have just been the cheese and tortillas I was tasting, but I was a big fan.  Would do business again.   And I was proud of myself for eating something that used to give me the heebie-jeebies when I passed an infected ear of corn in the garden.  Just wait, someday I'll be eating witchetty grubs and my friends and family will be saying "We don't even know who you are anymore."  

Umm, we bought a bass guitar.  I couldn't help it!  Grant said he wants to play the bass, and any dummy knows you can't have a band without rhythm and percussion, so it will be here Wednesday.  On a scale of 1-10, where 10 is the most excited someone could ever be about having a bass, John is probably a .75, but I barreled ahead all the same like I do.  At least it's a bass and not a dog or a car or a house, like has happened before.