The Christmas Horse

Today is my last day of work before Christmas. Yeah for me! I'm excited to have some time off to get something done at home. Last weekend I went to Provo to stay with Pansy. We spent the day intermittently shopping and going to Christmas activities. This is what our day looked like:

1. Eat lunch
2. Go to Target
3. Go to Choir practice/school
4. Go to Barnes & Noble
5. Go to the Ward Christmas Party
6. Go to a Pie Party
7. Go to Wal-Mart

There were way too many people at Wal-Mart. I mean it was 11:30 on a Saturday night. There were a ton of kids there. What were they doing up that late? I shouldn't have been up that late and they definitely should not have been.

I finally have my tree up. Dad and FarmerBoy were kind enough to tangle with all of the wires to get it up for me. I then spent Tuesday night decorating it. The lights are special, but that is because I did them myself. They kind of make a net. They are mostly white, with two strings of colored ones. I think it is a gyp to have only white lights on the Christmas tree. They are so boring. You need a splash of color.

Yesterday, I went over to Moroni and picked up 20 turkey breasts. No, they were not all for me. They were for our employees and apparently not all turkeys are created equal, as I was given very specific instructions on exactly what type of bird to pick up (or part of a bird). I left about 9:45 and got home from work at 8:30. It was a long day for me, and I've even been being productive at work today. I know, it is a little weird for me. As of now, all of the turkeys except one have been delivered. We had a bit of snowstorm yesterday, and apparently a lot of people don't believe in plowing roads. They were pretty icy in a lot of places.

I'd like to send a Hell-o to Roo as she can't come home for Christmas since she hurt her back. Coo, Coo's wife and NooKoo are going up to Washington and Loo and Loo's husband will spend the day in Provo. That leaves Me, Mom, Dad, Da, S.Q. and FarmerBoy home for Christmas. That seems like such a small group to have at home--a true sign we're a big Mormon family. Changing topics, it is now time to tell of a Christmas tradition.

Many years ago, before I was in existence, my Dad set a rule that we could not get up until 7 a.m. on Christmas morning. Mom always thought that this was too late and she believed that we should have negotiated for an earlier time. We had tried to negotiate for an earlier time. This is how those negotiations went.

Dad: You can't get up until seven.
Us: Six.
Dad: Eight
Us: Five
Dad: Ten
Us: O.K. Seven is early enough

As we got older, we began more negotiations--for a later time. Needless to say, we wouldn't wake up at 7 a.m. as had been tradition forever. We all used to sleep in the basement on Christmas eve. Well, one year, we wouldn't wake up and all of a sudden there was loud pounding on the our ceiling--this was about six a.m.--I mean it wasn't even seven, yet. We ignored it a few times, but it wouldn't stop, so we dragged ourselves and went out upstairs to see if Mom was trying to get us out of bed before the appointed hour. Mom wouldn't admit to pounding a stick on the floor, claiming it was the "Christmas Horse" that woke us up. Now, every year the "Christmas Horse" has to wake us up if we don't get out of bed early enough.

The Bold Cold

It's been pretty cold down here in the nether regions of Utah, but still not much snow. It's funny how it doesn't seem like Christmas unless there is snow on the ground. I'm just having a hard time feeling it this year for some reason. Maybe it is because I can't seem to get a Christmas Tree put up at my house. I attempted to put up my parents' castoff, but was reminded it was a castoff for a reason. I'm not really a fan of puzzles, particularly those involving a lot of wire, and so the tree went back in the bag. I then thought I could buy an artificial one and they were all pathetic, at least the ones that were affordable. I also thought for a moment that I could get a real one and have FarmerBoy help me pick one up. There were three left in the town and truthfully, they make me very scratchy, so decorating it would be a problem. How did I overcome this trial, you ask. I haven't. I placed the angel on top of the mantel and left the ornaments in their see-through cannister.

I'm also having a hard time finding a nativity that speaks to me. I found one I liked, but no shepherd. How, I ask, can there be no shepherd? This is just not right. A nativity should include the following figurines.

1. Mary & Baby Jesus
2. Joseph
3. 3 Wise Men
4. A SHEPHERD
5. Various and sundry animals, but probably not a prairie dog, a whale, or a bonobo.
6. Possibly an angel

I'm picky. As a general rule, I like traditional nativities. I like a half-way decent paint job and not that stylistic mumbo-jumbo, and a shepherd is a must. Christmas is about tradition, right after the birth of Christ and before Santa Clause, who as far as I'm concerned is a scary, old man who gives little children complexes into their adulthood.

Other goings on in my life--I have my Christmas cards addressed, but no amusing Christmas letter written. Apparently, people like my Christmas letters for some reason. I cannot guarantee the quality this year as Loo (whew, I had to edit the post, as I put her real name on the blog, as if all of you reading it didn't know her anyway) and I will have separate Christmas letters. Blame her, not me. She's the one that got married and didn't want to become the cat-lady and favorite aunt. I'm not sure if she's aware of the fact that once you get married, not only are you out of the single-people travel club, but you are also out of the running for the favorite aunt. It is just a fact of life that the "fun aunt" is always single, so that they can go and visit the nieces and nephews and spoil them. Once you are married, you no longer have the means to spoil them.

Well, I hope that you are having a more successful time decorating for Christmas than I am.

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving Fun

Well, I've been a slacker on my blog lately. I have intentions of posting and then I don't. So last week I had a fabulous Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday. Then, I went up to my sister's house to stay over in preparation for Black Friday shopping. I used to be one of those people who swore that there was no way that I would go shopping the day after Thanksgiving, and then there was a really good deal on something I wanted. I don't even remember what it was. I found it slightly exciting the first year and then it got to be more and more fun. Something important to note--I go to office and computer stores, not clothes and toy stores. Last year, I bought a thermos, so that we could take hot chocolate with us.

So Thursday evening, CompUSA opened at 9:00 p.m. (I would like to note that I am morally opposed to them opening on Thanksgiving Day, as I don't think anyone should work on Thanksgiving that doesn't have to. I do not consider sales a mandatory working situation; however, if they are open, I will go there.) My Pop wanted a 24 inch monitor, so we got in line about 8:15. By the time we got in the store, the 24 inch monitor was gone; however, savvy shopper that I am, I thought that this might be the case, so I'd previously asked him if he'd take a 22 inch monitor if the 24 was gone, and he said that he would, so we picked up the monitor, along with some power strips, cans of air and other sundry items. We, meaning my brother S.Q. and I. We had left my sister Loo and her husband to go do some secretive Christmas shopping for their son. Loo's hubby was feeling pretty good about the time it took to get the stuff and then he realized how long the line to pay was. Apparently, paying takes longer than picking up the loot. He is new to Black Friday shoppig. As we went along, we started games on all of the computers, so that those behind us could continue playing the games to entertain themselves. We were in the car ready to go home at 11:21. Loo won the guessing contest of when we would finish.

Done with our shopping? No. It wasn't even Black Friday yet. S.Q. and I scoured the ads and tried to determine where to go. We couldn't decide, there was nowhere with anything we really wanted. (Loo and hubby decided to skip out on the morning run). We'd already determined that we wouldn't get up for the 5 a.m. store openings. 6 was the earliest we were willing to go. We woke up about 5:30 or so and headed out the door. We just slept in our clothes to save time. We decided to go to Staples first and arrived there at about 6:02 a.m. No line out the door because they were already open. We went and got what we came for and were out pretty quickly. Next I went to JCPenney to pick up some stuff for Mom, while S.Q. looked for a WII, so that he could resale it on E-bay. No luck for him. Next stop: Sam's for free breakfast. It was very good, but we knew we'd need food for later. On to Shopko for a glider for me and a bunch of baby clothes for all of the new babies in the home ward. I also picked up a few movies and a CD. Next, we went to McDonald's to finish our breakfast and mailed a package at UPS. So, here is the list of most of the stuff I/my family got, just in case you wondered:
A 24 inch monitor
Computer Memory
Surge Protectors
Cans of Air
Printer network thing
Other network thing (S.Q. will have to clarify)
DVD burner
Labeler (I didn't need one, but S.Q. and I thought it would be fun to play with)
Secret items at JCPenney
Battery Recharger
Glider w/ottoman
The Holiday
How to Marry a Millionaire
A U-2 cd
Baby clothes
Other stuff I forgot.

Now, I just need to submit all of the rebates, a very important part of Black Friday shopping.

On Saturday, I went with my Mum, Loo & L.H. (Loo's Hubby) to the light parade in Delta. It was very long, about 15 entries. We watched it at one end of town and then went to the grocery store for food, and it was just starting down there, but we didn't need to see it again, so we did our shopping and came out just as it was finishing up. The first year of the light parade, it was tractors and semi-trucks with lights on them. I was a bit disappointed this year, as there were actually decorated floats.

Well, now that I've bored you all, have a great day!

Weddings

Well, I survived my sister's wedding last week. I'd like to reiterate that I'm not going to have a reception, I'm going to elope and only my immediate family will know about it. I don't care how good of a friend you are, you probably won't be invited, maybe. Why skip the reception? Many reasons. First, it is money that could be better spent traveling the world. Second, I don't like to talk to people for extended periods of time. Third, it will be stressful. Fourth, I can get the dress without the reception. My mom tells me that there will be another person involved in the wedding and that he might want a reception. My reply, "Then I won't marry him". You needn't worry yourself about the fact that you won't be invited as there are currently no prospects whatsoever, and unlike Dennis Rodman, I want to marry another person, rather than myself.

I do have to say that my sister was acting appropriately for her wedding day. She was all giddy and excited and giggly--exactly as a bride should be. The upside to weddings--you get to see the whole family, even it is for just a few minutes. Granted, our family isn't too large as Loo is only the second to get married. I also got to see the niece, NooKoo (how is that nickname Coo & wife). She is very cute and figured out how to get the animal book to make noise, as did the rest of the family. I'd post pictures of the wedding and the family, but I didn't take pictures. Why?, you ask. I'll tell you. There were five bazillion photographers at the wedding. The hired one and all of the amateur ones that are friends and relatives. I figure the more pictures you take, the fewer words they are worth. One picture is worth 1,000 words, but 1,000 pictures are only worth .25 words apiece.

I'll see if I can get my brother S.Q. to send me the video of the bouquet toss to post next time and then I can commentate on that whole debacle.

Ta-ta
Moo

Halloween Rundown

We had a new record number of trick-or-treaters at the house this year, at least I think we did. That's right--17! I took my candy to Mum's, so the ghosts and goblins wouldn't hurt themselves on the way to my house (the light is motion-sensitive, so they would have had to walk most of the way in the dark.

As I child, I dressed up as many normal things--a witch, an alien, a punk-rocker, a baseball player with a black eye and a few not-so-normal things--Pippi longstocking (with a coat hanger threaded through my braids to make them stand up), a hunchbacked old man and random other things. We always had a Halloween party in the next town over a few days before Halloween and then on Halloween we'd go trick-or treating in my own town. It was very important that you went to every house in town, so that you wouldn't hurt somebody's feelings. I always hated the bit 'o honeys. I think my favorite were Almond Joys. One of the great things about having a large family is you can always trade candy with a sibling if you don't like certain kinds.

True fact: On vacation, I specifically bought candy with peanut butter because I knew some of my siblings didn't like it and they wouldn't ask me to share with them, thus leaving me more!

Top ten reasons to love Halloween in a small town.

1. You get lots of candy in few stops.
2. You know everyone in town, so there is no "scary" candy to eat.
3. People never run out of candy.
4. My mom gives out toys like play dough (I am playing with mine right now.)
5. You know everyone that comes trick-or-treating, if you can tell who they are.

This year I didn't dress up for Halloween, guess I'm just turning into a fuddy-duddy.

In other news, FarmerBoy and I are cancelling our South Asia cruise and may go to Rome instead. Who knows? I'm open to anything, as long as we know before we leave the driveway. Also, new to grandma's (my) house, is a programmable thermostat, smoke detectors, and a carbon monoxide detectors, so hopefully now I'll be a little bit safer in the house.

Pumpkin Walk + 1

Walking Pumpkins

I apologize for the blog in advance. I'm in a blah mood right now, so you'll get a blah blog. It's been awhile since I've posted. Friday night I went to the pumpkin walk in North Logan. It was pretty fun--one of those small town things that is slightly lame, but that is what makes it great. Yes, I realize that is contradictory. Anyway, I went with friends so we had a good time. I took pictures, but don't know if I'll get them posted.

Also, on Saturday Loo got the letter giving her fiancee' clearance for temple marriage. She is getting married two weeks from today, so I've been doing a few wedding things for her this week--ordered table runners and labeled envelopes. Hopefully, the invitations will get sent out before the wedding! I also brought some of my junk down from Loo's house.

Tomorrow I'll help clean her house and get some more of my stuff out of. Work has been pretty slow lately, as we are in the off-season.

In other news, I found a dead bird on my doorstep this morning. I think the birds are all plotting against me to die all around me. That's all for now, have a great weekend.

Country Critters--Installment 1

First off--Happy Birthday Da!
The cookie picture is for your birthday.

I told you that I'd post a picture of a silage bag, so here it is.
Photo #2 Silage Bags (corn post-chopping)
Photo #3 Corn (pre-chopping) with the Harvest Moon

Country Critter Incident #1
The flies have been annoying me all day to the point of insanity. Yes, I was raving like a lunatic at the flies. Anyway walking by would surely think that I was insane. I finally pulled out the fly swatter early in the day to kill a wasp--I try to keep a safe distance from the wasps, as we are not kindred spirits. I then proceeded to swat two more flies--one on the desk and another on a self-inking, rubber stamp, which takes a special talent. The flies kept landing on the computer screen, which is very, very annoying. I didn't want to swat the flies on the screen, for fear of causing irreparable damage to the screen, but it was just too much. I had to swat and bam! I'm 4 for 4. I think these mad fly-swatting skills come from the days when my mum paid us a penny for every two flies we swatted. Back to the present. I saw a smudge on the screen. Is it a crack? Did I cause indeed ruin the expensive screen before me?! Alas, it was only fly guts. One swipe with the fingernail and the bug guts are gone (Using the fingernail was the gross part of the process). There is still one pesky fly buzzing around the office, though. I will get him. Just watch out Mr. or Ms. Fly.

Country critter incident #2
Last week as I was walking the 7 feet from the office door to my car, I noticed that there were two birds (dead, of course) stuck in the grill of my car. I obviously hit them at some point. I solved the problem before me in my head--make my Pop or FarmerBoy remove them for me. Excellent solution, if I do say so myself. I proceeded to go get my lunch; however, I could not stop thinking of the birds in the grill and what people would think of me if I left them there. If I continued to drive around town, would I become known as the girl with the birds stuck in her car that leaves them there as if they are hood ornaments. I couldn't let this happen to me. I placed my lunch on my desk and proceeded to get grocery sacks from the back room. I knew there was a reason to save grocery sacks. Anyway, I digress. I flipped the bag inside out to grab the birds ( a technique taught to me by my mother as a method of rodent removal) and pulled one of the birds out quickly flipping the bag over, so that I didn't have to look at the poor dead bird whose life was abruptly ended as it flew over the highway. I threw this bird/sack in the dumpster and proceeded with the next bird. However, this bird was wedged in there tightly. Wow! I really must have hit that one at high speed. I didn't know if I would be able to remove it without some of its body parts becoming detached. Oooh, gross! I popped my hood to get better access. I pushed from both sides and finally removed the sad bird from my car, which I did without any gagging on my part.

I called Loo to tell her of my great conquests, as Pop and FarmerBoy would just make fun of me for being a woose. She was properly amazed by my great feat or at least she pretended to be.

P.S. The photos would be in a slide show, but I'm not that advanced, yet.

The Joys of Silage--as promised

I love fall on the farm. I love fall anyway, but I love as the fields begin to turn brown. One thing that fall on the farm means is it is time to chop corn for silage. For all of you that don't know what silage is, it is chopped corn that sits rotting in a pile waiting to bed fed to hungry cows. Cows love silage. I know this because they sometimes break into the silage area to eat it. In this day and age, silage is blown into long white bags. I'll try to post a picture later.

Back in the day, the chopped corn was put into a very large pile between the haystacks (to keep it contained). The top of the pile was even with the top of the haystack. Before I go on, I must state that when I was little, I had a very bad case of "older-brother" worship. FarmerBoy was the older brother that I worshiped. I would do anything that he wanted me to do. We had to make up our own fun in the summers and one fateful day FarmerBoy suggested that we go jump in the silage. I agreed. Why? Because FarmerBoy suggested it and I'd never done it before.

It was glorious. We would climb up the haystack and climb over to the silage pit. We would then jump off, pretending that we were the great gymnasts of the world (at least I did). We would jump, we would flip, we would do anything that we could get our bodies to do. There was a spongy goodness about the rotting corn. It was just as I imagined the big styrofoam pits that the gymnasts use to be. And it was free! And I could walk there! Well, FarmerBoy and I finished our exploits, and returned to the house. Mum, nice person that she was told us that we stunk. I disagreed. FarmerBoy definitely stunk, but I did NOT! All the smell must be coming from him. Mum made us both bathe, so that Farmer Boy wouldn't smell anymore. I just did it because I believe in good hygiene.

This is a tradition that continued for several years. I even remember playing with the neighbors and jumping in their silage pit. Later in life, the silage jumping adventures had to be curtailed as I developed itchy rashes from the decomposing goo.

Pink Pajamas

The other day, I needed to go to the post office, but didn't want to get dressed before going, as that would require showering and getting presentable. No problem, I just went in my pajamas. I know it seems ironic that I went from worrying about being presentable to going in the P.J.'s, but some things in life just don't make sense (like the way my brain works).Don't worry. I don't wear seductive little nightgowns, like some unknown sister of mine who goes by the name of Loo. That particular morning I was wearing what I refer to as my "clown pajamas". These are basically a bright pink jogging suit, with pants that are too big and thus make me look even fatter than I am. I did brush my hair and put some gum in my mouth before going to get the mail--even I have standards!

I arrived at the post office and of course there were people there this time. (the town only has 130 people. Often there is no one but the post mistress at the post office.)No worries, they didn't look at me funny--they are probably used to me being in my pajamas at the post office. I recently made a comment to someone in a neighboring town about going to the post office in my pajamas and she replied, "Everyone does that". Apparently it is socially acceptable in small towns to go to the post office in pajamas. I have to admit that getting the mail is frequently the highlight of my family's day. Yes, we have boring lives, but at least we are easily entertained. You know, there are definitely advantages to this small town thing and going to the P.O. in your P.J.'s is one of them.

Next time: The joys of silage.

A lonesome pole cat

I awoke this morning to the putrid smell of skunk. I mean what makes you more excited for your day to begin than the fresh aroma of the country pole cat. I must admit, the title of this blog is a bit misleading, as it was not a lonesome pole cat, but at least two of them. My brother, FarmerBoy, stated that perhaps it was mating season. The internet informed me that this was untrue as mating season is between March and June. Pepe Lepue was not wooing his love, but rather just "freshening" up my house--and my Mum and Pop's. FarmerBoy called me before I left the house to let me know of the wandering feline and to warn me to watch closely where I walked, as these striped stenchors had been on the porch, in the lane, and anywhere else they could think of. Skunk lookout is not a job that I want to be able to list on my resume, but one can always acquire new and useful skills.

As I returned from work, I was in my mode of non-thinking and walked onto my parents' porch to be assaulted by the smell. No, it was not gone and the rain just brings out the fresh skunk fragrance enough to make me wonder if I have absorbed the skunk's perfume as my own. Ah, the smells of the country--never dull.

Call Me a Lemming

Yes, I am doing what everyone else is doing and starting a blog. What can I say? I live in the middle of nowhere and my life involves a lot of t.v. and a lot of eating. I thought maybe I could bring you into my sad and boring life. Have a great day.