A Post About the Husband

I'm having a slow brain period, so I'm taking post prompts...

My Husband

1.What's his name? Scott
2.How long have you been married? 10 years 4 months
3.How long did you date? 5 months, including engagement
4.How old is he? 39
5.Who eats more? He does, but I try to keep up to my detriment
6.Who said "I love you" first? I did.
7.Who is taller? He is.
8.Who sings better? I do. But he can sing if he's not paying attention or trying to hard.
9.Who is smarter? He is. But I have the monopoly in certain areas.
10.Whose temper is worse? Mine
11.Who does the laundry? Usually me - but he helps whenever he's available.
12.Who does the dishes? Usually me - but he helps whenever he's available.
13.Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? He does. And we're pretty set in our ways at this point.
14.Who pays the bills? What bills? People pay those things?
18.Who is more stubborn? I am.
19.Who is the first to admit when they are wrong? Him.
20. Whose parents do you see the most? Are we talking quality time? That would be mine.
21.Who proposed? He did, by the Provo Temple. After messing with my head and waiting way too long to do it.
22.Who has more friends? I do. Though neither of us are exactly social butterflies.
23.Who has more siblings? I do. By a lot.
24.Who wears the pants in the family? Well, neither of us wears a skirt!

Jane Austen in Real LIfe

I recently had to ride in the car with someone I wasn't exactly happy to be in close proximity to. I worried about my ability to make conversation (I never was a good small talker or a good actress) and act like everything was cool. Thankfully there were a few others in the car as well.

Conversation did take place. We discussed the cold snap and forecast for snow on the valley floor. We talked of how sad it was that summer was over and how the heaters had to be turned on. Then we spoke of the construction on 8th North - wondering why the cones where still blocking lanes when the line were painted and everything seemed in order. The grass and the median were all considered in our deep and thrilling conversation which had taken us all the way to the freeway.

This is where a movie quote (I can't be certain it is from the book because that is the ONE I haven't read) popped into my head and made me smile for the rest of the drive. This is a quote that I had previously thought was outdated - could not be applied to our day and time. But I was so wrong. You see, I had instinctively followed the advice of Mrs. Dashwood (and I won't quote it accurately I fear, but I'm lazy) when she said, "If you can say nothing appropriate, please limit your remarks to the weather and the condition of the roads." (The roads part may actually be taken from a different part of the movie, but it mattereth not.)

I was quite pleased with my Jane Austen moment and thus endured the remaining of the ride very amiably.

Review: The Blue Castle Review by L. M. Montgomery

The Blue Castle
by L. M. Montgomery
Classic, Fiction
218 pages
published: 1926
4 of 5 stars

I finished reading this book awhile ago...and loved it! I had no idea what it would be about, the back didn't even help much, so I just jumped in.

I was a little worried at first because the tedious and sad beginning seemed to go on and on, but if it had not I doubt I would have enjoyed Valancy's rebellion quite so much. Valancy got some news one day that changed her life - she decided to not do anything to please anyone else anymore. She would only do things she wanted to do. Well, her world fell apart and then got put back together again. And the ride was very enjoyable.

I loved the part near the end when the author started going on about "30 seconds to change everything" and I was imagining horrible, bloody tragedies...but it turned out much more mundane, surprising, plausible, and indeed life changing. Perfect.

My complaint: it got a bit long-winded in the descriptions of the scenery. But I survived. I knew it was important, and in fact a theme of the book, and forgave the author her indulgences.

My bigger complaint: the idiot who did the cover art should be shot. It says specifically in the book that Valancy never wore white except as a very young child. In fact, her clothes were few and deatiled and could easily have been pictured. And her expression! Like some expectant "young" maid who knew she was desirable. Valancy knew she was anything but desirable. But worse...why does Barney look like some prep from the 1980's? He was often dirty, unshaven, and had longish hair! Even if the artist wanted to go for when he did shave, he still wore overalls, not some sweater swung over his shoulder! Okay, I know this is a small thing - but...but...IDIOT!

Things I loved:

• Valancy's snide remarks
• that service released her
• that "love comes softly"
• that the beauty of nature is more valuable than the artifice of "traditions"
• how there was good in even the lowest in the community
• how divine forgiveness is
• how valuable it is to love - even if that love is not returned
• how personality is what makes someone beautiful
• the proposal scene
• the irony of the letter
• that she cut her hair short

I even made my poor husband read it so we could talk about it. It truly is "chick lit" but even he enjoyed it.

Yesterday at School

Throughout my school experience yesterday, I was struck again and again with how beautiful our world is. Walking past a bush I saw a complete and perfect spider web that formed a funnel down into the bush, and couldn't help but smile at the ingenuity, hard work, and loveliness of that spider's web. Then I turned toward the mountains and could see all the red dotting the mountain sides and smiled again at the contrast of color and the vibrancy of Fall. Later, while walking back from the bookstore, I saw the whole mountain range reflected in the glass wall of the JFSB. I could see those red bushes and even the Y captured seemingly inside the beautiful building. And just to the right I saw Mt. Timpanogos peaking over the JKHB, covered in snow and providing a resting place for a few fat, puffy and quite innocent looking clouds.

It was a relief to see that this place is beautiful, even if it's not the kind of beautiful I would have chosen. It was relief to notice all these things and remember that things are good, and peaceful, and beautiful...even during times of stress, business, worry, and illness.

I'm grateful for those moments yesterday. The natural world loosens the knots in my chest that I don't even realize are there until I suddenly feel myself able to breath again. And it was a tender mercy to drive home thinking of the mountains and trees instead of dinner, bedtime, and papers due.

Tagging

The rules: You can only put one word answers. Good luck.

1. Where is your cell phone? nope 2. Your significant other? wonderful 3. Your hair? short 4. Your mother? spiritual 5. Your father? Practical 6. Your favorite thing? sleep 7. Your dream last night? forgot 8 Your favorite drink? juice 9. Your dream/goal? published 10. The room you’re in? front 11. Your hobby? creating 12. Your fear? evil 13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? home 14. What you’re not? motivated 15. Muffins? pumpkin 16. One of your wish list items? cellphone 17. Where you grew up? California 18. The last thing you did? class 19. What are you wearing? casual 20. Favorite gadget? laptop 21. Your pets? kids 22. Your computer? essential 23.Your mood? hungry 24. Missing someone? Melanie 25.Your car? dirty 26. Something you’re not wearing? dress 27. Favorite store? book 28. Like someone? doubtful

Tag: Jen, Michelle, Kerri, Andrea, Amy, Alison, Cynthia...

Summer Pictures Chapter 3: Nature Stuff

Ain't he adorable?!?

Review: My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult

My Sister's Keeper

by Jodi Picoult

Fiction

423 pages

published: 2004

2 of 5 stars

For an upcoming book club I needed to read a book by Jodi Picoult, and my friend Michelle very obligingly brought over 3 for me to choose from. I was worried when I read the backs of these books - not one interested me in the slightest. So, I picked the one most highly recommended by Michelle and started.

I was immediately surprised by how interesting it was, and how involved I became. It quickly got to the point where I couldn't put it down. I was loving it! The book was amazing me with its honestly and rawness. The subject was controversial and heart rending. I enjoyed how it cycled through the points-of-view of the main characters. It was fascinating and disconcerting that the character whose actions and decisions I agreed with the least was the character whose chapters made me cry. I didn't agree with her, but I sympathized and understood her motivations.

The book was moving forward, the characters and the plot was developing. Near the end, new and surprising information came out. Everything was going great! (From a story point of view, life actually really sucked for the poor characters.) I was getting ready to add this book to a list of favorites, to admit I was totally wrong about my presumptions and attitudes towards books like this....and then the author dropped the ball.

I've read a few reviews, and most people think the ending was bad, weird, shocking...but it was worse than that. It was lazy. The author took the easy way out. Even in stories, some inevitable things are...inevitable. It would have been harder to write the end where the characters have to go through with their decisions and the consequences. It would have been traumatizing to watch someone you love die because it was what they wanted, and to watch a child learn to define herself when the reason she existed was gone. It would have been difficult to write about how that family would, or would not, put themselves back together when the center they all lived around no longer held everyone together. Instead, Picoult whipped out an unlikely and implausible ending, throwing in a insupportable miracle for good measure.

Whatever. How do these manuscripts get past editors?

Final review: 95% of this book was amazing. The end was impossible to swallow, and I can't get the horrible taste out of my mouth whenever I think about the book.

Note to Remember: If there is going to be horrible part of a book that you write, don't make it the end. The ending is what people take away and remember your book by.

After Sharleen had finished with Melanie's beauty preparations she asked if anyone else wanted their toes done. Hmmm...shall I analyze why I volunteered? Curiosity, morbid fascination with our culture's beauty standards...nah, probably just getting attention from my big sister.

So she started by filing off the pink nail polish and asking, aghast, "You didn't push down your cuticles before you painted them?!?" Umm, nope, never occurred to me. At this point it starts hurting. No, I mean, HURTING! She takes some sort of metal-scraping-toe-torture-device and murders my cuticles. I have to admit that I had virgin cuticles and my sister ravaged them! It was not unlike giving birth through my nail beds. (Much flinching, face making, and gasping later...)

Then we start the painting of the gooey gel substance and the sticking of the feet into the ultra-bright light box. Now, this is not ordinary light. This is torture light. Sharleen told me it hurts more if you are on your period (which I was) or if you are taking medicine (which I do) and if you are sensitive (which I AM!!!) so....&$%#@@$%#!!! Fire down through the nails and into my bones - fire that never stops....

All right. It was finally over and my nails were pretty. Shiny. Smooth. French tipped. Freaky. It made my hubby happy and helped me hate my feet a little less. Maybe it was worth it...

A Few Weeks Later...

These nails are of the devil and I will never let another monkey-nail person touch me again!!! I hate filing them down and they are growing and hurting and I'm walking with my toes curled.

Holy gerbil skin! What idiot thought of this! I finally gritted my teeth and sawed them down enough to walk normally. Later I started the process of picking them off. Yep, scrape, pop, tear. I've got them all off except for my big toes, and yes, they took several layers of nail with them in spots.

I've learned my lesson. If it looks stupid, stay away. Get attention by playing catch with your head, or something else less painful.

Summer Picture Chapter Two: Wheels and Bridges

I apparently have a thing for wheels. I wasn't truly aware of that. I was aware of my thing for shadows though. I really love shadows. I have a whole family picture somewhere of just our shadows.



This is the bridge over Brandy Creek. But I think it's a new one. Anyone remember? Didn't it used to be red?
Aspen, Colorado and Kyra.

Bye Mommy! Have Fun at School!

I have started my history 201 class at BYU. It is my last GE and my second to last required class. I had to wait 2 years for this one to be offered at night. So far, the parking, walking, arriving on time thing hasn't gone so well. Working on it...

As I was sitting there on the first day, my pencil felt awkward in my hand and my notes looked messy. I didn't like being squashed between 2 non-note-taking guys. But then I found the clock, my breathing slowed, and I started to feel...completely normal. The classroom, the building, my seat, and my position in the room were all familiar. The backpack at my feet and the spiral bound notebook in my hand were comforting. It was perfectly normal for me to watch the clock and think about feeding the kids and getting them to bed. Perfectly normal for me to be angry with the teacher for requiring a special assignment drop off time and place because it required another trip for me. Perfectly normal for me to plan how to accomplish the homework late at night. Perfectly normal, in fact, to be annoyed at my husband for being late giving me the "other" car and still not having bought me a cell phone. (That one started back in '99.)

So this is my 11th year at BYU and graduation is finally in sight. I can hardly believe it. And I tell you, I look around that GE classroom at all those young people and think about how they have no idea how complex life will get.

Tonight I finished my first BS history paper that required a thesis so obvious as to be painful and unsupportable. Sometimes things are too easy. And I chant, "I only need a C," and know I'll be upset with anything short of an A. And I'm planning where to park tomorrow and how early to leave so I don't arrive late to class out of breath and sweaty. That is, of course, after my speical trip into school to turn in the stupid paper. But I know tomorrow my pencil won't feel awkward. anymore.