Lucky Seven

I couldn't believe she would marry me....

Now I can't believe she has stayed with me for seven years.

I love you Jessica! You are the love of my life.

Happy Anniversary Baby!

The Good, The Bad, & The Ugly

The Good
Last night Tay and I were looking through paint swatches. She was trying to convince me that Jess was crazy not to let her paint her room blue. As I was thumbing through the swatches, she was climbing all over me and kept putting her arms around my neck and squeezing a bit too hard. "Tay, why do you have to hang all over me?"

"Daddy, I haven't seen you all day".


The Bad
Waking up this morning when the alarm went off at 5am. My whole body was sore from working out. It was still dark outside. And cold. I just wanted to take a day off and spend the next few hours under the covers.


The Ugly
Everyone that knows Jess really well (namely, me, Tay, Rylee, and Jayson) knows how much she likes to pick at skin blemishes. She often makes small blemishes worse (and bigger, and sometimes bloody). Her favorite thing to do is to pop our zits. Especially mine. Especially the ones on my scalp that pop loudly. I tolerate it because it makes her happy---and sometimes it helps me out.

Last night I had one on the inside of one of my nostrils. It has been getting more and more painful for the past few days. It's the kind that makes your eyes water when you try to pop it. I couldn't get my fat fingers in there to pop it, so I turned to Jess. She made me let her search for face and scalp zits first (picture a monkey picking through the fur of it's branch-mate). She wasn't that excited to help me out because of the location. She made me clean the nostril thoroughly before she attempted.

She squeezed so hard, I thought my head was going to explode.
"Did you get it?" I said through watering eyes.
"No"
She squeezed again.
"Did you get it?" Tears were streaming down my face.
"No"
She tried one more time.
Then she got up and walked away.
"Did you get it?" My face felt like it was going to burst.
"Nope. I just threw up in my mouth."

Guess I'm on my own for the nostril zits in the future. And my nose hurts worse than ever.

Red over Blue

No, I haven't denounced the BYU Cougars after their beat-down at the hands of TCU. I still bleed blue. And I'm still cheering against Utah.

However, I am mighty proud of my red-ribbon chili. Took second at the Major Meadows Ward Soup and Chili cookoff. It doesn't matter to me that there weren't as many chili entries as in years past. And it doesn't matter to me that I didn't win the blue-ribbon (well, mostly doesn't matter). After all, I lost to Marlow Palmer--who has won the chili cookoff about four or five years running. He won again by a landslide. Come to think of it, that's why there were more soup entries this year. People are switch-hitting. Marlow's too tough.

Mine was a three bean, four meat chili. Mine looked and tasted more like chili than his. Although his tasted waaaaay better. Kind of like a savory meat soup. Yep--the judges were meat lovers.
The worst part is, by the time I got a chance to even taste his, I had to scrape the sides of the dutch oven. I ended up with only two spoonfuls of pure meat-lover heaven.

Next year I'm going for blue. I've got Marlow in my sites. We may not be living in the boundaries by then, but I still figure I could cook up a batch of something tasty and have someone submit it for me. One thing's for sure--it better be meat-based if I'm gonna beat Marlow and his trusty ol' dutch oven. I also may have to start basting and tenderizing on Monday for the Saturday contest. (I heard Marlow started on Tuesday).

I was feeling really good about my chili when we got home after the contest. Jess didn't even get to eat anything all night because she was too busy hosting the party as our Ward Activities Committee Chair Person. Shout out to Jess for a fabulous job!!! She said she hadn't eaten anything all day and was starving. Says she forgot to eat (wish I had her memory). So I offered her my award winning chili. There was enough left for one bowl.
She said it was "delicious". She made my night.

Later on I went to the kitchen to do the dishes and soak my crockpot. There was Jess' bowl of my red-ribbon chili.
Sitting in the sink.
Still full of chili.
Must've really been one "delicious" bite.

Blog-cation

So I have been on a little Blog-cation of sorts.
Not because I've been extraordinarily busy or anything.
Not because I don't have plenty of meaningless things to say (Jess, kids and coworkers can attest to that).
I guess I've kinda forgotten about my blog for the past ten days.
Remembered about it this morning.
I'm not planning on catching up. Just gonna pick things up from here.

Spoiled by the Parkway

So Legacy Parkway has shortened by commute by half!

Until this morning. A wreck just before Kaysville blocked off three of four lanes. Fortunately nobody looked like they were injured.

I hate stop and go traffic. But it did allow me to enjoy a few signs I would have otherwise missed.

1) Fines double for speeding in construction zone.
Really? This sign has been completely useless for the past year or so--unless 12 mph can be considered speeding.

2) Electronic speed deterant mechanism:
Speed Limit 55
Your Speed:
5....6...0....0....5
Again--really good use of money in the construction zone in the Davis County corridor UDOT.

3) Ill-informed traffic lady on morning radio:
"traffic through Davis County Southbound slows down at 200 North in Kaysville and continues as stop and go through Farmington"
When she said that, I had been on the freeway for 45 minutes, moved about 2 miles, and still had a mile to go before 200 North in Kaysville.
Turns out, the crash was at 200 North. We were back up to freeway speeds from there through Farmington.

Her insight was very helpful. Just like the signs.

The Legacy House

On Tuesday night I went to the Legacy House to make sure my Grandma Dunroe ate her dinner. My dad is out of town and Jess filled in on Monday, my turn was Tuesday. Jess had a ball on Monday night. She sat down with Clara (my grandma) and four other ladies. She had the same conversation with them multiple times.
My experience was different.

I was about five minutes late. When I arrived, Clara was sitting at a table, alone, with her grilled cheese sandwich cut up in small squares, cup of hot cocoa already gone, and fritos scattered around her plate.
She looked up at me as I sat down.
She had no clue who I was.
I spoke to her for about thirty seconds. Then I realized that although I was talking loudly, she hadn't heard a word I had said.
She looked very worried about something and ate with her head down.
After about five minutes, she looked up at me and asked, "Do you know anyone from Denmark?"
"No". I shook my head so I wouldn't have to yell over the show tunes being played by a volunteer in the adjoining dining hall.
"My son was born here. My daughter too. My son is over in Denmark." (no, he's on a cruise in Alaska)
"He's been over there for two years" (more like two days)
"I don't know how to help from over here."
"I just don't know how to help."

Obviously I wasn't sure how to help. I wasn't exactly sure what she thought he was doing over there and how she was expected to help.

She ate quietly.
I told her several times, well--yelled at her several times--to "try not to worry about helping him. He's doing just fine."

After a while she asked me where my parents lived. Then she wanted to know where their parents lived.
"My Grandma Bodily lives in an apartment near here. Both my grandpas are dead. My other grandma lives in a place like this."
She nodded as though she understood how that must be.
Interesting. She knows exactly how that must be.

The nursing home aides came by several times to check on Clara. They also yelled so she could hear.
"Would you like some more cocoa Clara?"
She just shook her head, "I just don't know what to say".

After Clara had cleaned off most of her plate, I told her goodbye and headed on my way.
I'm not sure she even realized I was leaving. Nor did she care. She was still worried about how to help her son who has been over in Denmark for two years.

Jess came home laughing at all the enjoyable conversation she had at the nursing home on Monday night. My experience couldn't have been more different.

My Other Mother

So on Monday night while I was working on my little project, I had to run into the garage to get a piece of pipe to fix a sprinkler. I must have left the gate open because when I came back around the house, Jayson was standing outside our fence, the gate of which was now closed, balling his eyes out. I wasn't sure if he was afraid because he found himself alone on the side of the house, or if it was because Ginger (the neighbors vicious German Shepard) was rabidly barking at him through the chain link fence gate that keeps her in the back yard of our neighbor's house.

Jess arrived at the scene at the same time I did and was asking Tayler why she didn't try to go help her brother. Apparently, Tayler was on the other side of our gate, screaming for someone to help Jayson, but too afraid of Ginger herself to go rescue him.

Fortunately, Jayson hadn't been bitten. When I hauled Jayson back into our yard I questioned Tayler.

Loving Father capitalizing on a "teaching moment": "Tayler, Ginger can't get out of the fence. Why didn't you go help your brother?"

Crickets. (20 seconds of silence....)

Tayler: "Dad, Maybe you should've closed the gate so Jayson wouldn't follow you out there."

Good point Tay.