hexagon

I learned something new, so I'm making a blanket.

I was here.

Finally, I have an inhaler good enough to be able to do this hike. It was pretty much the only thing on my bucket list. Maybe I should try and think up some other stuff, but I feel fulfilled in a wonderful way.

Looking up at the arch from directly beneath it.

To give you an idea of how huge it is,

check out the people underneath

(my sister, her kids, my kids, and some random other people).

Delicate Arch, I love you.

Valentines Day

I saw this on pinterest. I talked Tessa into letting me give it a try.

Happy Christmas

Dear friends,

I hope Christmas has found you happy and well, as it has us. For the most part. (Mikay had her tonsils out last week, so I'm not sure how happy or well she's feeling.)

looking at the lights in ogden a couple of nights ago

Lucky 13

Thirteen things I love about Mikay

1. She plays the oboe.

2. She's a "friend for babies," and she always has been.

3. She is sarcastic in a funny way.

4. Even though she has been sick most of this school year, she still managed to land herself on the honor roll.

4. She is happy.

5. She chooses her friends well.

6. Her smile.

7. Mikay genuinely cares about people.

8. She is dedicated - to her family, to her friends, to her schoolwork, and to God.

9. I can ground her for the rest of her life, and she doesn't mind (little does she know, I plan on enforcing that one because I never want her to leave!).

10. She is well-rounded.

11. She is kind.

12. She's my kid.

and

13. I get to be her mom.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KAELA MISHARON!

(or Mikaela Sharon, whichever)

are you kidding me, yahoo?

Yahoo has an article up right now with a picture of this mixer claiming it is among the gifts men should not give their women. Seriously? Personally, I would die for this mixer. Well, perhaps die is a little dramatic. At any rate, who wouldn't adore this yummy, yellow mixer?

Dear Doug,

Please don't take yahoo's advice. Also, I would like a new crock pot.

I've been good(ish).

My Favorite Christmas Spot

The cookie cutters belonged to my mom when she was a child. This is their third (or so) year sitting atop the shadowbox frame in the corner of my kitchen. The towel is new this season. Well. New-ish. I made it for my parents when I was in the fourth grade. My mom gave it to me last year.

a tradition

This year's theme: The 12 Days of Christmas

It is now a tradition. I can think of a million other traditions I would rather have involving our Lucy, birthday-party sleepovers, matching swimming suits with Tessa, crazy cousin games at Nanny & PopPop's house.


All of those traditions would mean we would still have our girl. It struck me today, as we decorated Lucy's 8th tree for the Festival of Trees, we would not have one of our most treasured holiday traditions if we still had her.


I do dearly love the festival, but I would trade it all to have that beautiful child here. Every single tree, every single scone, every single speck of glitter.

Oh, I miss my sister's daughter.

Thanksgiving

I've shared this poem before, I know. But, I love it. I've been listening to my 12-year-old practice committing it to memory all week. "Thanksgiving Feasts" has been recited at my family's Thanksgiving table for longer than I have been alive.

Oh, and meet Tom. He's for my mama.

Thanksgiving Feasts
author unknown

“Thanksgiving feasts,” O’Hara said,
“Thanksgivings like this here
Ain’t nothin’ to the one I et
In Wardleburg one year.
The Champeen eaters all were there,
Slack-stomached for the feast,
And we agreed the ones to pay
Were those who ate the least.
Ol’ Haskins, up Frog Holler way,
And Uncle Pelig Coon,
And Moses Hitt across the creek,
And Bill, and Doc M’Goon,
While several others I can’t name,
All trained and gaunted down,
Sat stroppin’ knives upon their boots,
While hundreds gathered ‘round
To see the champeen eatin’ race,
And when the judge yelled, ‘Go,’
We started in deliberate
Devourin’ vittles slow.
First came a chicken pie apiece
With mushrooms sprinkled in,
And then we had a quart of squash,
Six ‘taters, and a tin
Of pipin’ biscuits, buttered hot
With jam an’ apple jel,
And pickled beets and celery –
‘Twas here that Pelig fell.
While several others looked quite faint
Yet feebly carried on,
But when we reached the turkey course
The most of them were gone.
Each had an eight-pound turkey
Stuffed with nuts and sage and things,
I hadn't hardly et a half
‘Fore Bill and Haskins rings
Their curtains down and drags away
Upon their hands and knees.
That left just three, just Doc M’Goon
An’ me an’ Adam Peas.
The doctor started, but he then
Fell over in his chair.
But me and Adam, we ate ours
And split the doctor’s share.
But that fixed Adam, mournfully
He realized his fate,
His middle swelled so mightily
He couldn’t reach his plate.
I cleaned the board, and then I rose,
Disgusted with the bunch.
I wandered to the pantry
Where I fixed myself some lunch!”

Happy Thanksgiving!

edit: my sister Sarah declared his name to actually be Corky the Torkey.