Shedding Our Parkas and Our Spices

Yesterday I ran the air conditioner earnestly for the first time this year.  I was vacuuming and my thermostat said 83*.  Which is just too hot to really enjoy your vacuuming.

This morning Savannah called from her room, "Mom, can we cut off my jeans tonight?  I don't have any shorts."  And then wondered aloud if we were at the end of winter or already in spring.

I told her to wear a skirt.  I'm not quite ready to sacrifice her jeans.  I bought them for our Christmas trip to Michigan.  Two months ago.

Yesterday afternoon Ethan and I were outside enjoying the sunshine.  I sat in the shade because I thought it was "hot."  He declared the weather to be "only warm" and "just perfect" and planted himself purposefully in the sun.  After a few minutes he said,

"Wow.  You were right.  It is hot."  And scooted over to me in the shade. 

We stared up into the leaves of the orange tree.

A minute or so later he asked, "Mom, are you right about everything?"

I said, "Your dad thinks so."

(Sometimes I think, "Am I really writing about this?"  Take this last week, for instance.  I've given up writing about my husband's colon in favor of talking about the weather.  All of it Pulitzer material for sure.)

David is back at work.  And no worse for wear.  My work is suffering however, as I no longer know what to cook.  The doctor said to take it easy for a while.  Not too spicy.  Nothing with fat.  That leaves me with....rice.  I'm supposed to feed the sister missionaries tonight.  They like curry, which is probably considered "spicy."  I had plans to make the Chicken Tikka Masala.  Luckily for David, I am serving it with rice.  Honestly, I have my doubts that rice will be enough to tempt him home.  Perhaps I should whip up a nice salad with no dressing as extra incentive.  It is quite a shock to discover that everything you cook has either spice or fat, and usually both.  (This used to be one of the "pluses" for marrying me.  That list is getting alarmingly small.) 

Me as Daredevil

Today I cleaned my tub,

and erased every last bit of evidence of this:

(After David took this picture on Saturday night he dared me to post it on my blog. 

I raised my eyebrows to say "Are you sure you want to make that dare?" 

But he just smiled and said, "I double dare you." 

I reminded him that we go to church with people who read my blog and this particular moment was clearly more hedonist than god-fearing. 

He just shrugged and doubled the dare again. 

I'm not sure what I get for completing the dare, but I'm sure it's going to be good.)

I sent Olivia into my bathroom on Sunday morning for the curling iron, forgetting the aftermath.  She came out with her hands on her hips and asked, dismayed, "What went on in there last night?"

I played dumb. 

She narrowed her eyes accusingly, "I saw Martinelli's and chocolate-covered strawberries." 

"Um...," I said, wondering how much to share.

And then, just before I said too much, she huffed, "I know you ate them without us."

Guilty as charged. 

This and That and an Appearance by CIM

Not much to say, but need to talk.  Be forewarned, this is mostly CIM at work.  I'm afraid RIM has flown north for the winter.


This week Ethan only had to go to school on Monday and Tuesday and so we had an outing yesterday, to Target, then to Sweetcakes (our secret lunch spot), then to the museum, the library (of course), and finally the grocery store.  Ethan told me he wasn't bored the whole day. 

We're at my favorite part of the Book of Mormon in family scripture study.  Ether, chapter 2.  Though I'm crazy about chapters 3 and 6 as well.  After we had read the chapter, I tried to explain to the kids why I liked it so much.  I said it was like a metaphor for our lives, and asked them if they knew what a metaphor was.  Olivia raised her hand and said, "It doesn't use 'like' or 'as.'"  Correct darling.  (She's been doing metaphors and similes all week at school.)  And then I explained the metaphor and bore my testimony.  A pause for impact.  And then Olivia raised her hand again.  She asked, "Mom do you want to hear the simile I wrote?  The koala is as fluffy as a pillow."  I looked at David who was discretely grinning behind his book.  This is because he finds it charming that I would try to explain my metaphor to the children, and he finds it even more charming that the whole time I was talking, Olivia was thinking about koala bears.

Olivia had an impromptu tea party with her friends yesterday.  She dressed up, of course.  Complete with a hat.  But her bike had a flat.  Miraculously, I had a tube on the shelf and offered to change it for her.  She was skeptical, but agreed.  Halfway through the project I sent her on Savannah's bike because I am not nearly as handy as I thought I was.  An hour later (well-spent, no?) I had the tube changed and pumped up and Savannah took it on a test drive to the mailbox.  I congratulated myself on my brilliance and proceeded to clean up the tools and popped tube.  By the time I did that and went back to park Olivia's bike, could hear a soft hissing and found this:

Apparently I put a hole in the tube as I was putting the new one on her bike.  Which is a real shame.


Savannah came home from school yesterday and said, "Hi, Mom.  You look pretty."  That made my day.

And David came home at 6:30.  That made me over the moon.  How's that for a metaphor? 

Last night was the final presidential debate. (Thank heavens.)  I cannot bear another word from either candidate.  David had it on while we were finishing dinner and I started answering the questions for the candidates.  They would uncanniliy say the exact same thing a few moments later.  Savannah's eyes got bigger and bigger.  She asked me how I knew what they were going to say.  That, my dear, is because I have heard it all too many times.  I can recite their speeches for them.  And that is why I cannot wait for election day.

An Appearance by CIM:

Last night there was nothing on TV (including the debate), and so David and I went to bed early and talked, which turned out not to be early after all and was, in fact, rather late once we finally went to sleep.  I started the discussion by unleashing CIM from her carefully controlled enclosure and telling David that I was desperately failing at everything, and I was pretty sure I never choose "best" when given a choice between good, better, and best, and by the way I was going to shut down my blog as well.  He tried to reasonably talk me through my crisis of confidence and eventually we ended up on safer ground talking about his life at the hospital.  And eventually CIM settled down and went to sleep.  And this is why I love that man.

Sweet Nothings

I am madly in love with the three guys at my house.  Here are three more reasons my crush keeps growing.


Last week, after reading the "doughtily" post, David was pondering the fifth "definition" in bed.  He said, "Do people know what a MAC counter is?  Everybody probably thinks I took you to get a Big Mac."

I smiled in the dark.

And then he gasped (apparently remembering the end of that same paragraph) and groaned, "My parents read your blog."

I smiled again and assured him that they already knew he had a wicked wife.


Last week in church, the man who was speaking talked about a bridge from his boyhood home to Vietnam.  Caleb leaned over and asked, "Is he speaking literally or metaphorically?" 

Can I say how happy (giddy even, and quite near delirious) it made me to hear him use "metaphorically" in a sentence?


And then last week Ethan saw a picture of Barack Obama.  He asked, "Mom, what's his name?"

"Barack Obama."

"Is Baback Ohamina our bishop?"

"No, honey, Barack Obama is not our bishop.  He's running for president."

He pointed at the picture and said, "That guy looks just like our bishop."


(I love it.)

After, in the Dark

Last night there was lightening.  And thunder.  And candles, just in case.  And romance, because there were candles.

And after...

there was lovely throaty whispering.

And a while after that, in the darkness I heard David sigh regretfully.  "I don't think McCain's going to pick Romney." 

I started giggling.  Because it is just so David to mix love and politics. 

He listed the reasons why not.  I said those were all good reasons.  He said he'd thought about it a lot.

Then he listed the reasons why McCain should.  I said those were all good reasons too.  He sighed.

And then he said, "Romney has a certain gravitas."

I said, "Did you just use the word 'gravitas'?"

He said he did.  And then I kissed him hard (I really couldn't help myself) and there was more romance.  Because it is so like me to mix love and vocabulary.

Look at these yummy pillow shams...I am delirious about them.  Ticking and toile are my undoing.