Demolition-derby, banana monster and more

At about this time each year the frosted leaves, and chill wind give way to chirping birds, flowering trees, and a change in the air that stirs the inner emotion in all of us; a regeneration of buried passion, an awakening of hibernated spirit. 

One appropriately scheduled event epitomizes this renewal of visceral and instinctual drive, transcending generations of testosterone-reinforced father and son teams:  The Pinewood Derby.
After our first year, the rules changed.  Perhaps, too many couldn't handle not being the fastest.  Perhaps the annual Douglas County demolition derby inspired a different form of competition.  No matter.  Nunc pro tunc. Auxilo ab alto. Vini Vidi Vici. Nil Opus Captivis,  et cetera.  In other words, Game on.

Along with speed, it's last car rolling.  Isaac's first experience in the trenches, his brilliant idea parallels his personality nicely.  An unassuming model, easily overlooked and underestimated.  What you don't see coming at you at peak velocity is a completely hogged out center filled with...concrete.  Again, his idea.  This car was fast, won several of the speed races, and held up well under the blows of other instruments of destruction like those of his older brother:

Jacob decided to come out swinging with a two-headed monster: weight and intimidation.  "The Bulldozer" model mirrors his type A personality (not sure where he gets that).  It became the undisputed crowd pleaser at the end of the show as cars helplessly piled up in the middle of the track needed repeated clearing (bowling would be a good visual here).

Jacob's last year's model was the Pencil of Death, depicted center above.  Full of lead, mometum focused to a dangerous point, it did plenty of damage then, and again this year.  Still the Bulldozer outdid the Pencil of Death this year in wake o' destruction.

Objective achieved: boys had fun, dad was proud, cave-man grunting and competitive wooping itches were scratched.  

Speaking of hibernating bears, here's Audrey.  I don't pretend to understand all of the connotations and overusages of the word 'cute', and for that reason I rarely use it, but...  

She was fussing one night with the typical surround-sound hysteria and Anna asked if I would feed her.  

"Sure."

What I didn't realize is that this little bear could and would chew through the peel to get to the sweet inner goo.  (For some reason Anna asks for my help in this area a little less now).  Bummer.

Had to throw in a few recent pictures of other little chaos masters: King James is singing "Sunshine, Lollipops and Rainbows" here.  His favorite song.  Anna was teaching a little lesson on Archimedes to the boys and mentioned sunshine (in regard to his heat ray technique of setting enemy ships on fire--history/math), and what to her surprise, little James burst into song, "Sunshine, lollipops and rainbows everything..."  Good comedy for all.

Kaiser Wilhelm demonstrating his unmatched charm.

One more of Clara.  It almost feels like an achievement to me each time one of these little gems is lost as it should be: without decay, abscess or trauma. 

For some reason the more tissue paper, the better when it comes to stopping the pinpoint drip of blood.

The beginning of a passage from childhood to maturity.  Heaven help us.

Torture

I hurt my ankle playing soccer yesterday and since I can't walk I'm in bed with a bag of frozen peas whilst the family is at church.  Just before leaving my sweet dotto accidentally spilled some of her precious perfume on my hands and pj's.  I'm dying!  The ankle just hurts, the perfume is slowly killing me. 

She got it from a neighbor's yard sale--three little bottles, 1 penny each.  At first I thought the neighbor was being nice to Clara by selling them to her at such an affordable price, but now I think she's a member of the mafia.  As Michael walked out the door he caught a whiff and instantly became sturn and whispered, "While we're gone you've GOT to get rid of those things!" 

This may be my last post.  If my husband comes home and finds me dead, you, Gentle Readers, will know what happened.  Don't bother with an autopsy, just dip my remains in paraffin and send them on to the Body Exhibit at the Luxor Casino, where they can show what a sprained left ankle looks like.  At my funeral I want my father to.................

What Happens in Las Vegas...

...gets posted on the old blog. So, LennyJynn had a wedding to go to, and that was that.  We all had to fly with her to keep her company.  Set the course, Lenny!

And when there weren't nuptials to celebrate, we...

...went to shows.  This one was at the Tournament of the Kings dinner show at the Excalibur.  Easily the best part of this show was sitting next to JennyLynn and hearing her roar Hazah! the whole time.  The Dragon Knight here was making eyes at our Keri (far left).  Sorry, Adam, but it's true.  We didn't care a fig for him, but his Friesian was gorgeous.  Hazah!!

We also were able to get tickets to the Cirque Du Soleil "O", sale price compliments of Carrie Norris.  It was AWESOME.  I was sincerely impressed.  Next we went on the New York New York roller coaster...of course, directly after dinner.  

I don't remember the last time I screamed like that, with hysterical laughing in between.  Ooo, it was fun, and Shawna the only one brave enough to not hold on for dear life.

Our lucky break came when we were waiting in line and Fernando had to stamp us.  When I held out my hand he lamented that nobody ever let him stamp their foreheads, and it had been his goal since working there years before.  "Vegas, where all your dreams come true," I said and lifted my bangs.  He was delighted as he stamped all our foreheads, and just for that, he gave us a free second ride!  

Completely worth it!  We saw the "Body" museum exhibit also.  Very interesting especially for the massage therapists and biology teacher in the group.  No pictures were allowed but that's okay--just dip your hand in paraffin a few times and hold very still to get the effect. 

Carrie N. joined us for the next evening.  Thanks, Dan, for covering with the girlies!  During the delectable meal, we displayed our best table manners. 

After dinner we perused the beautiful Venetian, which was quite a treat, partly because we were without kids and curfew, partly for the joy of being with great friends, partly the incredible surroundings.  Why did everybody there have accents?

Jennifer, singin' in the rain.

Keri, trying on Dutch bras.  (In case you can't tell, those things are all carved out of wood.)

A fun bit was when we stopped to listen to an impressive trio (violin/classical guitar/flute) in the square.  My toe was a'tappin and I was feeling the urge to dance.  I even happened to be wearing a twirly skirt!  Then I spotted a bench being warmed by three sweet old fellas and I couldn't resist.  I gave Keri my jacket and purse and went over and told the cutest one that this music was way too good to not be danced to.  Would he join me?  When I ditched my things, Carrie, who knows me way too well said, "When she does something like that it usually means you should pull out your camera."  Glad she did, it was one of my favorite moments.  (Here she posted the short video on her blog.)

At the end of our dance someone called out, "Play a waltz!"  So they did, and after that a tango.  By two songs later the whole floor was packed with dancers and a huge applauding crowd.  The definition of fun!

Carrie and me having a romatic walk over the canal.

Who invited Maxine?  These were some stylish Banana Republic shades Carrie purchased (after finegalling a 50% coupon out of the bored sap behind the counter).

Las Vegas Lassies about to head out for a night on the town, after a leisurely morning of sleeping in, swimming, all-you-can-eat guacamole and pedicures--compliments of lovely Shawna.  (Why am I so annoying?)

From left to right:  Jennifer Hot Lips, JennyLynn Bouffantress (the instigator and enabler of this whole shindig), Shawna the Silver Siren, Keri Kat Woman, and Mahana the Ugly who came down from tree.

And what's a trip to LV without the tourist stop at the sign? 

Thanks to the nice guy who had a real flash on his camera and actually emailed the photos!

Some day "WE COME [back] TO Fabulous LAS VEGAS!"

The only remotely perturbing incident was at the airport on the way home when a short grouchy Aunt Jemima type cornered me and said, "Uh, ma'am, do you got anathang shahrp or haza'dous in yo bag?"

"Nope."

"Well, I gonna check it."

"Okay."

Then she went straight to the left side pocket and pulled out one of Michael's giant hunting knives. I gasped, then began to laugh, then cackled and shrieked and started pulling out my hair and doing jumping jacks. Then they confiscated the knife. Just kidding. They let me mail it home to my dear husband, who claims he didn't remember that it was in there. It was a little embarrassing.

I was greeted at home by a clean happy house, a hungry baby ready to nurse (pumping is for the birds, I tell ya!), a welcome home note and vase of flowers from sweet Isaac waiting for me on the bed.

To all our husbands:  You boys are the best to take off work to keep the kiddos so that we could take off life for the weekend!  Especially Michael, who is a more competent mother of six than I am!  And my thanks to you beautiful ladies for making this such a wonderful trip. 

Silver and gold you are, lassies.  Silver and gold!

Art Auction

Monster by W. C. Allen
(Patterned after Uncle Jay's Mandan chief's headdress,
which the older boys painted for an art project for school.)

We'll open the bidding at 800 Dutch guilders.  All proceeds go to Will's college fund.

If I could learn to be such a friend for my friends' sakes...

"Her finely-touched spirit had still its fine issues, though they were not widely visible. Her full nature, like that river of which Cyrus broke the strength, spent itself in channels which had no great name on the earth. But the effect of her being on those around her was incalculably diffusive: for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs."

--George Elliot, Middlemarch

Dream

I always hate it when people tell me their dreams (except for J. Anderson.  Your's are funny and you keep the summary to two sentances).  But after a particularly hairy week I had this dream, and the longing lingers with me, so take a whack at this one, Joseph... 

Michael approached me early one morning and said, you look frazzled.  I'm going to take the kids for the entire day and you can do whatever you want.  I'll see you tonight or tomorrow.  He kissed me, then I watched the loaded car wind down the driveway through the pasture and trees, enter the road and speed out of sight.  I sat for a brief moment and brainstormed with myself on what I'd most like to do.  It was easy.  I slipped into my working duds, pulled on the old galoshes and tromped out to the barn, where I was greeted by the fragrance of alfalfa and old manure and the soft wholesome sounds of early morning animals.  I coaxed my sweet jersey from her stall (my affection for this little cow was very real) and tied her to the ring.  Then I pulled up a stool (which, of course, was padded), metal bucket in hand, leaned my head against her warm belly and began to milk her.  It was like taking the first breath after holding it through the long 405 tunnel by the Portland Zoo.  Ahhh, real life!  Am I pathetic or what?

XinDian AnKang

Pietr, January 31, 2010

I've left my abode in XinDian AnKang.  I love that place. It was a ghetto little piece of city nestled in steep-cliff mountains covered with thick jungle. I saw MANY miracles there, to share a few:...

One day Cui I were contacting in a park & I saw an apartment building across the river & thought to go there & knock a bit. When we got there, we had several doors to choose from (each door leads into a complex of probably 50+ apts.) We rang one of the 50 doorbells, and someone let us in without checking to see who we were--Cha Ching!

We started knockin' the complex without much luck, when we only had 5 min. left, Cui said, "K, just knock the ones that feel good we only have a few minutes." 

"This door seems good." We knocked & met a college-aged girl, gave her a tract & welcomed her to church, expecting nothing of it...  Next sunday she showed up! & started meeting with the sister missionaries.  She will be baptized this month! It's a great feeling to be a sharp RAMBO knife in the hand of the Lord.

I learned a lot from Ciu Zhanglao (the Korean), mostly about patience & learning to yield to others.  It's interesting to hear perspectives from people in other areas of the world, especially from Korea. Most of the world moderately to strongly dislikes the American government.

And tidbits from Adam:

A big thing happened this week in the history of the church in taiwan. Another stake was organized in

Gao Xiong and my area went form a district to a stake.  The stake was organized by Elder Watson of the Seventy. I have met and been interviewed by him and he is awesome. He was very emotional and related how when he served here as a missionary 45 years ago there wasn't even a ward in all Taiwan and now he was organizing the 11th stake, how amazing it is!

In other news, I contacted a black man the other day.  He had a deep black man voice and spoke only chinese and it was one of the weirdest things I have ever experienced.

We had a meeting in Gao Xiong on Thursday . That morning there was a 6.3 earthquake, the second of my life (the first was in my last area) and tons of fun. I was sitting in the chapel when it happened. I heard people outside running out of stores and yelling.  Babies!  I thought it was lots of fun. Not any significant damage that I heard of so don't be worried.

Pen

Why did it strike me as funny that Michael was using this pen

during his end of year financial meeting with his accountant and lawyer?

My not so fishy fish tale

So, my awesome dental team got me an early Boss's day gift: a guided day for winter steelhead on our very own Umpqua River.  It was foggy, cold and my first time fishing for Steelhead.

On the first hole, I caught the only keeper of the day.  All natives get to live to spawn another day. 

This fresh water mussel bit down on my lead weight, bazaar huh?  Conclusion: Don't go eating fresh-water mussels because they are more likely to contain heavy metals.  Get it.  Get it. (insert annoying elbow in rib here).

It warmed up in the afternoon, and ended up being a perfect day on the river.  In 7 hours I caught 8 Steelhead ... and one fresh-water mussel.

On that "one last cast on this last hole" I got to play the prize of the day for a solid 30 minutes...

Now ladies please feign interest here on behalf of every guy that has gotten caught in the middle of a "my baby was 8 lbs 15 oz, 21 inches long and the head was 50 inches in circumference and it took 1000 hours of labor" conversations.  We get to nod like we understand and appreciate what that translates to in your ring of  gender-specific knowledge and understanding, your invisible, but very deserved badges of honor.  Of course this pales in significance but is no less real to the largely harrier half of our race.  This monster was 38 inches long, 20.5 inches in girth and weighed in at a hefty 20 lbs and 6 oz, and let me emphasize that it took a solid 30 minutes of joyous labor to land this fish. 

    

This was the hole, and this was the catch of the day.

(Anna here:  I just wanted to say, I didn't really realize just how big this fishy fish was until the guide called for the third time with how the stats compared with other record-winning fish, and prices for getting it mounted for display.  Yes, I'm proud of my brave hunter and fisherman!)

C.S. Lewis: "No man knows how bad he is till he has tried very hard to be good. A silly idea is current that good people do not know what temptation means. This is an obvious lie. Only those who try to resist temptation know how strong it is. After all, you find out the strength of the German army by fighting against it, not by giving in. You find out the strength of a wind by trying to walk against it, not by lying down. A man who gives in to temptation after five minutes simply does not know what it would have been like an hour later. That is why bad people, in one sense, know very little about badness. They have lived a sheltered life by always giving in. We never find out the strength of the evil impulse inside us until we try to fight it: and Christ, because he was the only man who never yielded to temptation, is also the only man who knows to the full what temptation means--the only complete realist."

"You need to evaluate yourselves carefully. Take a careful inventory of your habits, your speech, your appearance, your weight, and your eccentricities, if you have any. Take each item and analyze it. Can you make some sacrifices to be acceptable? You must be the judge.

"Are you too talkative? Too withdrawn? Too quiet? If so, then school your thoughts and your expressions.

"Are you in the wrong location? Could a move to a new location open up a new world to you? "Is your dress. . . too revealing or too extreme? Are you too demanding? Do you have any eccentricities in speech, in tone, in subject matter? Do you laugh too loudly? Are you too demonstrative? Are you selfish? Are you honorable in all things? . . . Do you feel sorry for [yourself?]

"Have you made yourself attractive physically — well-groomed, well-dressed — and attractive mentally — engaging, interesting? Are you well-read? If not, change yourself."

--Spencer W. Kimball, to young adults

(Borrowed from my padre's blog.)

Where the Wild Things Are

The night Audrey wore her wolf suit and made mischief of one kind

and another

her mother called her "WILD THING!"
and Audrey said "I'LL EAT YOU UP!"
so she was sent to bed without eating anything. (But she didn't mind because she knew her mother would get uncomfortable by and by and would have to feed her.)

Valentine's Greetings

It just isn't the holidays without Mikey Baby's annual poem, even if it is a couple months late.
This is the most updated family picture we have, and everybody is looking about like they usually do--except my eyes are not crossed.

We were on our annual sledding outing up in the Umpqua Wilderness out toward Crater Lake. Very fun. Very beautiful.

Hope you all had a wonderful and romantic (or at least chocolate-filled) Valentine's Day!

Bill of Sale

As I sit here composing a bill of sale for our minivan, my mind wanders back to the time we got this old girl. We found her on eBay, and won with a crazy low bid, an obvious answer to our prayers. I was 8 mos. prego with Clara when we went to retrieve her, driving from Iowa City to Denver in the "BLIZZARD 2003!" (which shut down the entire city 45 minutes after we left and splashed through the national news for the next two weeks). These reminiscings led to other memories of our school years, which produced mixed emotions, which made me feel hungry, which made me happy we have snacks in the cupboard that I can fetch for myself, which led me again back to the lean years of school, which eventually brought me to the grateful thoughts that inspired this post.

The greatest blessings we had during those years were our friends. I am grateful to the Lord for providing us with an atmosphere where we could safely learn the difficult lessons that were our privilege to learn, at BYU, in Iowa, and in Texas. I am equally thankful for the long suffering friends that were patient with us (mostly me), and forgiving of our (mostly my) pride and immaturity. (C. T. Warner wrote, "To the immature, other people are not real." I like to knaw on that one.) Not that anybody who knows me now could say with any truthfulness that I've "arrived," but I feel like an old woman sometimes, looking at that little girl and thinking, "Poor clumsy thing. She thinks life is so complicated. She'll make it through okay, though we'll see how many mistakes she makes and how many bridges she'll inadvertently burn getting there. Thank goodness for all the patient angels around her." Yet another proof that God is real, that prayers are always anwered, and that love and forgiveness and faith and hope are steep trails that lead us to the summit so we can at last see where we've been and where we're going.

Aliens In Our Bedroom

I walked in one evening and found this:

I believed it to be the work of an alien. I was right.

This Day

This is a wonderful reminder from President Eyring for people like me who tend to say, I'll get to it tomorrow. I'm too busy just now.

Third Time's a Charm

Conducting the kiddos in writing thank you cards for our Christmas gifts is almost enough to drive me to drinking. If I weren't a teetotaling woman I'd be joining Seamus for the fondue left-overs. This year Jacob and Isaac hatched a plan to print out a "form letter" on the computer in order to streamline things. It would say:

"Dear _______,

Thank you for the ______. I love the way it looks on my _______. All the kids at school will be so jealous I have my very own _______...."

So I battled the form letter and told them it would probably be nicer to send a custom thank you note. Then Clara said, "If all we need to do is say that we got the present, why not just write, 'Dear ______, I got the _________. Love, Clara.'?" I told her that was called a receipt. Not really the spirit of what I was going for. However, this one squeaked by me:

Sassy girl. Needless to say, the process took WAY too long, and all my stores of patience were overdrawn. When the last period was written, I sent them to bed with dirty teeth and a kiss. Then I went over the letters. Alas, I was naive to think the job was over. Isaac, was called back downstairs to redo the note to his Primary teacher.

Try #1.

Recognize this? I realized why he and Jake had been giggling at the other end of the table.

Try #2.

I stopped him mid-sentance because my sense of humor was completely gone.

Try #3.

He was tired by then so he just did it. "Fine. Go to bed." Then so did I.

Trivia

$10,000 to the person who can guess what the world record is for the most push-ups done non-stop. (New fact I learned in my current BYU class.)

I'll give you a hint: It was a man, and it's more than 100. Also, no fair googling the answer. Answer will be posted at the end of the week.

Favorite "Entitlement Commercial"

A woman in a designer suit sits at a desk, looking haggard as she rifles through reams of papers stacked around her. We learn that they are her credit card bills when an aggressive man's voice demands, "Do you have credit card debt?" The woman nods her head and blows air out the side of her mouth. He continues, "You have the right to settle that debt for a fraction of what you owe!" She smiles and nods her head like an idiot. A large 1-800 number is stamped at the bottom of the screen, and all our dreams come true.

For real? It was so asinine I though it was a joke. Nope. Apparently it is obvious that this poor woman is a victim of circumstance who was forced into this predicament and, darn it, these folks are here to bail her out. (We've been hearing that one ad nauseam, have we not?)

My sister Miriam named this post when she saw me go berserk at the commercial and laughingly suggested that this may be her favorite "entitlement commercial" yet. Maybe I'm too touchy, but I am morally opposed to most of the commercials on TV (let alone the shows, but those I can control). I'm offended at the gigantic deficit of common sense and dignity it is assumed I have in order to consider these ads. Equally as alarming is the idea that they wouldn't use the approach if it wasn't effective! Now, the Titan Peeler, I get that. But this?

Like the one for a local attorneys office: A poor crippled toddler confined to a wheel chair is flashed onto the screen (melancholy music playing), in the background healthy children are playing on a swing set. Suddenly a corpulent filcher in pinstripes leans on his walnut desk and says, "Do you have a loved one that was born with cerebral palsy? Get compensation for the mistakes your doctor made which caused this irreversible condition... Call us now at 1-800-U R DUMB IF U FALL FOR THIS AD..." Now I know why my husband's malpractice insurance costs as much as our house. You never know when someone somewhere might lose a tooth...

Whew. Thanks for letting me get that off my chest.