i love pictures of my family together. love love love LOVE THEM!!!
blog renamed: oh the places he goes.
so i think i need to rename the blog–oh the places he goes. since most posts as of late consist of the crazy things i find my son doing, it sounds only fitting.
feelin’ the love.
just got home from the land of hilarious mormon billboards. every time we go i find myself actually looking forward to seeing what comical marketing we will see on the roads. sometimes i cringe. sometimes i laugh. my favorite this time…a billboard introducing the benefits of carpooling. the slogan…welcome to the promised lane. catchy, no? 🙂
finally fall
in our home, there is one sure indication that it is finally fall…
the trouble with tuna
sometimes i get to thinking my day-to-day blog posts are pretty trivial when compared to life events that are much more important (i.e. stephanie and christian's recovery, etc.). then i sit back and think, but hey, this is what life is all about. a combination of the insignificant mixed with the meaningful and a little bit silly but sometimes grave sprinkled on top. it's being able to look at all of these things in perspective that helps us enjoy life.
that leads me to today's post. which is downright silly. but that is what's happening in my life today.
jeff has tunafishaphobia (an intense fear of tuna fish). he will not admit it, of this i am sure. and maybe it's a little harsh to call it a fear. but in any case this is what happens EVERY time a can of tuna is cracked inside the walls of our home.
jeff: with a look of great distain as if he is going to wither up and die "what's that smell? is that tuna fish?"
me: "yes jeff, it's tuna fish."
jeff: "where did you put the can?"
me: "in the sink."
jeff: "you really should rinse it out."
me: "jeff, i swear you have PTSD from your college roommates leaving tuna fish cans in the trash."
jeff: having a flashback to The Pad (nickmame for his BYU dwelling), "it would rot in there. nasty."
me: "rest assured, hon, i will dispose of this tuna can properly."
jeff: holds his breath and quickly bolts out the door to work secretly hoping that the smell will not be there when he returns home.
and so i whipped this out today just for him.
by the way, this is my FAVORITE candle of all time (hobble creek wassail). rhonna introduced me to it and it's been a fall staple ever since. i have made trips to Utah just for this candle. well, sort of.
oh, and did i mention…
that he also plays the piano.
(p.s. lest you think that i give him free reign to put himself in peril every day, this happened while i was using the little girls room this morning. yes, i do momentarily take my eyes off him. perhaps i'll have to start using a porta-potty!)
word to the nutty
if you put the barstools in the pantry to keep him off of them,
Have you ever received one of those emails….
when you see a name in your inbox from someone in the past?
Someone you haven't heard from in years and when you see their name you think, is this for real?
Is that really an email from that person?
And you get a little excited with anticipation to open it up and see if it is really them?
That happened to me this week. I saw a name. A name that has meant a lot to me over the years. A name that has brought me great joy when i think it or even say it. Vicente.
It all began about about 9 years ago in la Plaza del Ayuntamiento in Valencia, Spain. It was a normal day for my companion and me out in the streets of the city. Talking with people or rather trying to talk with people but getting that pointer finger waved in our faces time and time again. The familiar words tengo prisa (i'm in a hurry) or no tengo interes (i'm not interested) or just flat out ¡no! (which needs no translation) were ringing in our ears.
With a slow step, we kept on walking. Thinking of how we could have skipped out on contacting that morning and gone to a ward activity. But it wasn't our ward activity. And to go would have been succumbing to that temptation to take the easy road. Which temptation creeps in all to often when you are an exhausted a "tired of being rejected" missionary. But this morning we didn't give in. And here's the reason why.
We were walking toward the bus stop, getting ready to catch the bus back home when I saw an older man sitting on a bench. "Just talk to him," I thought. "Whatever! You know how old men are," went the debate in my mind. "All they do is ramble on about the government and General Franco. It would be a complete waste of time!"
But i soon found my mouth opening to say hello and he actually answered back. Whoa! We kept talking and he listened. Not only that, he was interested in what we had to say! We gave him the first discussion and ended with giving him a pamphlet and inviting him to church that weekend.
As we left, we felt good. But he didn't really want to commit to anything so we figured we'd never see him again. As usual! You can imagine how my jaw thumped on the floor when we saw him walk into our sacrament meeting the next sunday. We soon learned that he had already attended 3 hours of the branch meeting before ours and even stood up to bear his "testimony." He explained that he met us on the street and came and felt good here. He said he was a member of the catholic church but that it bored him–but here he felt the action of learning through the Spirit. Well, you can probably guess how the story goes. We started teaching him with the elders and he was progressing towards baptism. But as all good missionary stories go…it was my time to leave. Not only leave the area, but go home. And so it was bittersweet when i left Valencia knowing that Vicente would be baptised soon, but I wouldn't be there to witness it.
But a sweet gift was sent my way when I was sleeping in my bed one morning and heard the phone ring at about 4 am. It was the Sunday of my homecoming talk. Who would be calling at this crazy hour? I answered the phone and heard Vicente's voice on the other end, telling me he was now a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Words can't describe the joy that ran from the tip of my head to my feet! It was a perfect way to bring to an end the last year and a half of service.
So as you can see, my heart was elated to see Vicente's name in my inbox this week. He sent an email sharing his testimony, his first memories of meeting us in the Plaza that day, and a few photos. I was grinning from ear to ear.
I'll tell you what, getting emails like that….well, it makes your whole year!!
1999:
heaven help him
please oh please watch over my little boy so he doesn't end up in the emergency room with a cracked skull, gashed flesh, broken bones, or anything of the like.
a conversation between spiders at 507
spider 1: yo dude. you lookin’ for some action?
spider 2: yeah, man. you heard about that Lady who lives here? we’re talking total entertainment, bro. we can get her good. really good. you like screamers? she’s it.Â
spider 1:Â so, i heard Black Widster dropped on her head and crawled down her arm a few weeks ago. she lost it. yelling, hootin’ and hollerin’ dude. it was hilarious. you can’t find comedy like that.
spider 2:Â let’s do it again, yo. Wolf Mama is in town. and she’s got all the kids with her.Â
spider 1: okay, you tell Wolfy to hide in the corner of the garage. and when the Lady’s goin’ all crazy trying to spray that tear gas stuff, the babies will launch out at her.Â
hundreds of them.Â
dude. it’s going to be the party of the year.Â
spider 2: rock on. let’s watch the Lady scream.Â
spider 1: yo, bro. did we kill her?Â
spider 2: yeah, man. i think so.
spider 1 & 2: sweet! (high five) now that’s wholesome family recreation!Â













