never too old for nurturing

Thanks to my good and generous friend Linda (and to the great Stake Conference talk we had a couple of weeks ago about the Family Proclamation and our divinely-appointed role as nurturers) I spent last weekend in Provo with my two lovely college daughters. Sorry to my Utah friends who I didn't visit; this was a nurturing mother trip.

Linda came to see her son Dan in Provo and her daughter Karen in Cedar City. Our first night in Provo found us at the ever-popular Brick Oven where we enjoyed great pizza and iced mugs of root beer (Diet Coke with lime for some).

What BYU visit would be complete without a tour of the now-famous Giraffe Office in the Physics Department? Linda, as evidenced in this photo, had never seen it before. Words cannot describe.

Emily showed us her office, complete with official-looking nameplate.

And of course, we got to personally meet the Goose For All Seasons we had heard so much about, dressed here in her back-to-school best.

Charlotte, ever the "hideous copy editor," found this grievous sign outside the pool at Emily's apartment complex. I mean, really--are they trying to stop unauthorized swimmers or simply alleviate bad hair days?

After a trip to Charlotte's doctor on Friday we found ourselves at University Mall, where I talked Linda into buying new Dansko clogs (among other things). We shared a favorite treat of Pretzel Bites and lemonade and were sad that Emily had a class she couldn't miss.

This apron at Deseret Book seemed appropriate for the occasion. It says "Hold tight to Mom's apron strings."

I never knew that Deseret Book carried fabric! I bought these cute pieces to make an apron (one can never have too many, you know):

We next met Emily outside her classroom door, made a stop at the BYU Bookstore for a sequin "Y" tee shirt I had been pining for since last month's visit, and then stopped to snap a photo with Brigham.

What nurturing trip would be complete without a Donut Night? I brought along the donut fryer so that the girls and their friends wouldn't have to miss out on our semi-annual tradition.

Our long-awaited and highly-anticipated trip to Provo's T-shirt Bar on Saturday (Michelle had piqued our interest some time ago) turned out to be a bust. The door was unlocked, but this is all we found inside. I guess cute, customized tee shirts were not in the cards for us.

The best part of the weekend came on Saturday night. We were the lucky recipients of front-section tickets to the Relief Society broadcast at the Conference Center in Salt Lake City, courtesy of the girls' religion professor. More on that later. (And many thanks to Dan, who relinquished his car to us for the day.)

At the end of the fun-filled long weekend I was left to wonder at the goodness of the Lord, who--when He might have sent two beautiful, exceptional girls to someone who could give them lessons and instruments worthy of their talents, travel and education worthy of their intellect, and a clothing budget worthy of their good taste--instead sent them to me. I will be forever grateful for such a gift.

Superman: Part II

Remember the Ford Ranger I've been driving--A/C, but little interior cargo space for people and things? Our yearly trip to Provo finally proved just the impetus we needed to get a new car! Well, new to me--a 2004 Chevy Trailblazer. The A/C is awesome, there is LOTS of room, the sound system is great, and all four of the doors open from the inside--imagine that.

We traded Mark's trusty red Ranger in, which means that the Explorer really is "his car" now, lucky man.

Guess who volunteered to drive the girls' 1989 Toyota Corolla (with no A/C) to Provo? You guessed it, Superman, a.k.a. Mark.

And guess which car broke down just past Price on our way to Provo? Right again, the Corolla with 220,000+ miles on it. I suppose it was only a matter of time. Here's the scenic spot where the girls' car took its final, gasping breath.

And who do you suppose had to wait for another hour or so for me to come rescue him on the side of the road? The girls and I had just unloaded our car in Provo when we got the call from Mark telling us of his predicament.

And who do you suppose transferred all of the girls' belongings from the stranded, dead Corolla into the new car--right again, Mark.

And guess who my favorite guy is--you're right, Mark.

Superman: Part I

Remember my 1993 Ford Explorer--the one I've been driving for five of the past six years? Let me refresh your memory: it's the one that hasn't had working A/C for the past two years, one door that no longer opens from the inside (just so happens to be the one most frequently needed to drop off kids at school), a transmission that has been threatening to go for some time now, and a starter that needs an occasional menacing prod with a broomstick in order to function properly.

Mark, being both compassionate and smart, traded me cars once summer began. I drove his red Ford Ranger (which in reality isn't big enough for all the people and things I tote about town--but who's complaining, it has great A/C) and he drove the sweltering Jed Clampet-mobile.

And then the starter on the Explorer died in the parking lot of Mark's office. What to do now? How much money do we really want to spend fixing up this old car? Mark and Emily towed the car home with the little red truck and I began wondering how we would all fit into the Ranger to make it to church on Sunday.

The next thing I know, Mark is doing extensive online research. "Great!" I think to myself. "He's looking for a new car." Little did realize he was teaching himself how to be a mechanic. Before I knew it, Mark--who has never tinkered much with cars--had found an inexpensive replacement part and was underneath the car installing it.

I kept any doubts or misgivings to myself, and must admit that I was quite impressed by the lack of cursing I heard (perhaps I was out of earshot). In less time that I would have imagined, Mark came into the house with a jubilant request that I come outside to admire his handiwork. Lo and behold, that car starts every time now on the first try!

Mark could be the official spokesperson for Dawn dish soap: Gets Grease Out of Your Way.

Mark has since told me that he doesn't appreciate me referring to "his car" as a Jed Clampet-mobile. I think he has developed a sort of kinship with that old car; he claims it's his Therapy Car. In addition to putting in the new starter, he has replaced the brakes, put in new spark plugs, and numerous other things I know nothing about. He has taught me that I guess we can all learn to do things that we didn't think we knew how to do, and yes--I still get to drive the car with air conditioning.

all dogs go to heaven

Or at least I hope so, so Bella can share Moosey with us in the eternities. Ever since we adopted Moosey from Jessie a little over one year ago, Bella has apparently talked about wanting to "send us a different dog." Really, can you blame her?

When Bella first arrived in Denver she couldn't wait to come to our house to be reunited with her long-lost pet. In fact, Jessie and I worried a bit that when it was time for them to return to Utah Bella might not take kindly to being parted from Moosey once again.

We were running late when it was time to go to the airport (and of course we had forgotten to take pictures of Bella and Moosey earlier in the week). We soon realized that Bella would probably not get on the plane unless she could properly say goodbye to Moosey.

Of course, trying to get everyone to cooperate for a group portrait was a little taxing, especially under the hurried conditions. Thankfully, Jessie used her dog-whisperer ways to coax Moosey into these family shots.

Bella was not as anxious to pose for a SP with her Great Aunt Denise.

Thankfully, others were more cooperative.

We miss you, Jessie! (And I'll send that CD of photos just as soon as I can find one on which to copy them . . . .)

look what I found at the airport yesterday!

Actually, it took me a while to find them, as I neglected to call Michelle's house the night before their arrival to make a Where-to-Meet Plan, and Jessie didn't have a cell phone with her. I had the best of intentions to park the car and meet them just outside the security area on Level 5 of DIA so I could help Jessie with the kids, stroller, and bags. I was about five minutes later arriving than I should have been for this plan to effectively work. Regrettably, it was almost an hour after Jessie's plane had landed that I finally found them patiently waiting at the curbside on Level 4.

We were so excited when Jessie decided to come to Denver for a sub-vacation (vacation-within-a-vacation), bringing her two darling girls with her! I confess I feel a little selfish, taking sister time away from Michelle, but I can't help but be happy that they're here. Sarah is in heaven with two little girls to entertain and dote on.

We tried to get Fiona to smile for this SP but were unsuccessful in our attempts.

Grandma bought both Bella and Sarah a cute coloring kit while we were at Joann Fabrics today. I am amazed at Bella's ability to color so neatly and precisely!

Fiona is warming up to me and lets me kiss her with abandon.

I ask, what could be better than that?

A/C = happy mom

I can't let the summer pass without blogging about the best thing to happen in my house in a long time: WE FINALLY GOT AN AIR CONDITIONER!

This is our fifth summer in this house and every year I dread the season more. Can you blame me, when this was the average summer's day reading on the digital thermostat of my main floor hallway?

I was skeptical when Mark told me that this one little window unit (which doesn't even look that ghetto) would cool most of the upstairs rooms of the house.

Believe it or not, it does! Look at that same wall thermostat now:

I can't believe what a difference this one little window unit has made--not just in the temperature of our house, but in the mood as well. AWESOME. That's just about all I can say. AWESOME.

mini makeover

Five years ago we moved into our current home, inheriting a number of lovely "gifts with purchase," so to speak. Some things I simply could not abide and was driven to change immediately, and others--though I didn't like them--got pushed to the bottom of the to-do list until, sadly, I guess I became used to them and almost forget that I wanted to change them.

My bathroom shower curtain was one such item. Southwest-style prints have never been a favorite of mine, but I guess the fact that it was a pretty shade of red and I happened to have matching towels made it somehow tolerable, or at least not annoying enough to move up on the priority list.

I'm not sure what first inspired my desire for a black-and-white shower curtain, but I had a vision in my head of what I wanted. One day while reading a home improvement post by blogger friend Lee in Pennsylvania, I saw the shower curtain that was in my head! I posted a comment about the irony of it all, praising her for her good taste. She quickly emailed me to say that she had made hers from a table cloth she purchased at T J Maxx, and that she had an extra one I could buy from her for a mere $15! Woo hoo! One step closer to getting rid of Southwest kitsch.

Fast forward about four months. The table cloth had been sitting on my sewing table, waiting for me to find the time to transform it. One afternoon after work I decided that there's no time like the present, and I sat down and made myself a shower curtain!

The table cloth was not quite large enough on its own, so I added a weighted hem in solid black. I decided to tie grosgrain ribbon in single-looped bows at the top of each shower ring.

Remember my powder room re-do last March? I saved the rather scary hardware (towel bar and switch plate cover) and got out my favorite transformation tool: black spray paint.

I haven't hung the "new" towel bar yet, but you can see here the lovely one I'm replacing. Do you know of anyone with a log cabin who would like to decorate with a hunting motif? Perhaps the more pressing question is, "Why in the world didn't I replace this hideous thing sooner?!"

The finishing touches, and perhaps the final impetus that got this project in motion came as birthday presents last March. Susan gave me these cute ceramic canisters for Q-tips and cotton balls,

and Michelle brought me (among other things) one of the darling black-and-white boxes of Puffs I had coveted after seeing them on her blog. I have alerted each of my family members that I will NOT be throwing away this box, but re-filling it.

See the wonders of blogging? Table cloth from T J Maxx: $15. Black fabric on sale at Hancock's: $5. Twelve yards of black grosgrain ribbon: $12. Sending the Southwest to Goodwill: Priceless.