In the leafy treetops, the birds sing, "Good Morning!"

"They're first to see the sun; they must tell everyone!
In the leafy treetops, the birds sing, "Good Morning."

This summer my brother and Birdie got married. They were sealed in the Salt Lake Temple. Later that evening, in the late afternoon summer shade, they exchanged rings before family and friends. As she looked out over assorted --even mismatched-- loved-ones, Birdie smiled contentedly and said, "This is exactly how I pictured it."

This morning as I was getting ready for the day, I was thinking about Birdie, who I'll see in a couple of hours and give thanks with on this holy Thanksgiving Day (holy in all it's grateful-turkey-football-familyness) and I remembered her quiet happiness. And I wished it for me, and I wish it for you, and I wish it for our little ones, parents, and for Birdie today: that Thanksgiving will be exactly how you pictured it.

With love,
C.

P.S. L. had a birthday. Photos haven't been developed. (No, we haven't joined the digital age.) I'll post-post about it. It Rocked.

To be sung with Scottish Brogue:

I would walk 500 miles,
And I would 500 more
Just to be the man who walks a thousand miles to fall down at your door.

Da da da da!

And if you seriously can't sing along with me (how sad):

http://search.playlist.com/tracks/i%20would%20walk

So, my birthday is coming up. And this one's not just any birthday. It's the Big 3-0. I remember when my parents were in their thirties. They were grown-ups.

As a birthday present to myself, I'm setting a goal to walk, not 500, but 100 miles by the happy occasion.

This isn't a weight loss goal, although that'd be nice. Nor will this excuse me from gym time. And I'm not counting the walks I take around Walmart...you know, that purposefully, poorly designed store that sucks you in and only spits you out until after you've spent 3 hours and 3 times as much money as you'd planned. (Aaaaaanyway...)

Walking 100 miles will not be difficult. But it will take a concerted effort to getter-done. (Yes, I did just use the words "getter done" and "concerted effort" in the same sentence. I'm conflicted.)

In order to accomplish this goal, I will need to walk an average of 11.1111111 miles per week.

So, will you help me? You don't have to walk a mile in my shoes, you can just walk a mile beside them.

It'll be the cheapest birthday present you ever bought.

7 months old today

Words fail.

The Great Pumpkin

Trick-or-Treat!

Here are our pics from Halloween.

L.'s a construction worker, not Bob the Builder. P.'s the fattest little puppy you ever saw.

Things you might have overheard their dorky mom saying:

"Dat puppy needs to be put on a diet! Oh, it's a baby? Well, he's perfect then."

And,

"Say, 'I Love This Old House!'" (He said it! hee hee.)

I know he needs a haircut. BUT ANYWAY, we love "the fixin' guys" at our house. (This Old House, PBS) And that vest was made by yours truly out of a paper grocery sack. Just call me Martha.

The dalmation costume was made by me too. I'm freakin' amazing. Just call me...Target...3 years ago. (Little P.'s costume inheriting has officially begun. Next year: tigger. The year after that: Luke Skywalker...oh, wait.)

Because this is how church callings are supposed to work

What Christmas songs will the Primary kids sing in Sacrament Meeting?


LET'S VOTE!


When Joseph Went to Bethlehem
Away In A Manger (hymn version)
Silent Night (possibly with ASL)
Hark! The Herald Angels Sing (think a Charlie Brown Christmas, v.1 only)
Santa Baby?!

Yes, I will pray about it.


But, seriously, any requests?

Walmart 911

As I loaded up the cart with apples, I believed that L. was drooling over the donuts. He wasn't. I turned around. I turned back around. He. was. gone. I looked and looked. I looked long enough that I asked for help. I closed my eyes right where I was standing, in the middle of Produce, and prayed. Then I asked the guy in the navy blue vest with the button name tag.

When we found L (on his way in to the arcade) I grabbed his little grey Texas Tech hoodie with one hand and covered my face with the other and BAWLED. You know, that heaving, silent cry. Then, surrounded by 5 or 6 Walmart employees, I knelt down, still crying, but able to speak.

"I was so frightened. I thought someone might have taken you away from me and never given you back. I was worried you were kidnapped. Please stay close to me. Don't wander away. I thought I might have lost you...."

Midflow, he said, "But I thought you might have been mama-grabbed."

TV Land

Me: I think you watch too much t.v.
L: No way! My brain's still workin'.

He'll be 4 in 2 weeks.