my adventures in minutia

Please come, you guys.
I just set up ten million tents and I was so sweaty that I could actually smell my own pits. Not cool.
It was so fun to see the whole thing coming together and the tents outside look so festive. I already have a list of things I want to buy from the vendors who set up tonight. I can’t wait to see everyone’s stuff tomorrow.
There will be fabulous shopping, giveaways, free lemonade (you have to come just to see the sign Tate made), and me! (the non-sweaty me.) (I hope.)
Anyway, it’s from 9am to 7pm and I promise it will be worth your time.
The studio is located at 57 E. 400 S. in Bountiful.
See you there!

On Friday, my little family was in the Bountiful city 24th of July parade.
It was interesting to be in the parade rather than watching it. We were hot and sweaty just like always though. That’s how parades are, right? Hot and sweaty. And crowded.
But this time, it was endurable because the float we were on had a “family dinner-valuable tradition” theme. So, our job was to sit at a table and look like we were having dinner as a family. We joked that to make it like a real family dinner, we should be yelling at the boys to “eat! you are going to take a bite of that before you get down! I don’t care if you hate it!” But we didn’t. We smiled and waved. The boys loved it, especially the attention-loving Beck.
A city ordinance said we couldn’t chuck candy at people, but it just felt wrong. People wanted candy! Some people even asked about it from the roadside. Well, not to disappoint, Beck did what he could. Our table was set with props such as roast chicken, corn on the cob, rolls and grapes, and Beck started chucking those things into the crowd. I’m not sure what the parade-goers thought when they were beaned in the head with a dinner roll, but at least it was something.
I took a few photos with my phone while we were cruising down main street on the float. They’re not great, but I was doing my parade wave with one hand and snapping photos with the other. They’re just to give you the flavah.

We spent a good chunk of the day at a swimming pool today. Man, it was a hot one. I purposely didn’t put sunscreen on my legs because I really enjoyed peeling the skin from my 4th of July sunburn and I was hoping I could recreate that experience.
I think I only succeeded in getting a sunburn on my back. This wasn’t on purpose. Now I am going to have to beg someone else to peel it.

Speaking of summer, I have a giant bowl of summer fruit on my kitchen table. It’s lovely, overflowing with nectarines, plums, bananas, and grapes. The down side to having a giant bowl of fruit on my kitchen table is the abundance of fruit flies buzzing around. I really, really hate those pesky little things. They even started invading other rooms in my house. I read online that they can lay up to 500 eggs at a time and the larvae (!) feed on the fruit juices and even the gunk on the inside of your kitchen sink’s drain.

{reading the words larvae and feeding together really gives me the willies}

{knowing that larvae are feeding and growing into more flies and then reproducing more larvae in my house makes me want to set my house on fire.}

I Googled ways to rid my life of fruit flies and found many. I tried a few until I hit on one that really works and as it turns out, it was the simplest one. Go figure.
I’m going to share it with you in case you too, have larvae (!!!) and fruit flies and the willies.

Get a small bowl and pour about an inch of apple cider vinegar into it. Add a few drops of liquid dish soap and set near the fruit, your sink, your pantry or wherever you notice the most flies. Leave it there overnight and you’ll be amazed. The bottom of the bowl was loaded with dozens of those little buggers. Repeat if you still have a few lingering fruit flies. You may have to do it for a few days because they eggs are still hatching. (yuck!)

Anyway. There’s that.

Last night the boys and I had our summertime sleep-out-in-a-tent and tell scary stories while eating popcorn and swedish fish extravaganza. It was fun. But like last year, I had a terrible nights sleep. Worth it, though. Definitely worth it. The heat made it hard to fall asleep. It was really hot. Like, Africa hot. The boys all took their shirts off and we all slept without blankets.
I told them some really scary stories. Some I made up, some I retold, but I tried to tell the Tell Tale Heart by Edgar Allen Poe. I didn’t do it justice, but they seemed freaked out just the same.
This morning, three shirtless boys sauntered into the house to play while they waited for me to make their breakfast. Who knows what they do downstairs when I send them down to play, really. I pretend we don’t even have a downstairs most of the time, because it’s so messy and it overwhelms me to think of cleaning it. But this morning they were wrestling or some other equally loud/destructive activity.
When I called them up to breakfast, I saw this…

They have all drawn “six packs” on their stomachs with a sharpie.
Beck said, “We’re playing tough guys.”
Right, well, that makes perfect sense then.

Usually, when I work in my craft room at night, I take Nelly with me. She chews on her bone or bats a tennis ball around until she’s tired and falls asleep.
Sometimes she barks at me to say she’s bored and wants out. But, while she has learned not to use my house as a toilet, she still can’t be trusted not to chew everything to bits. (shoes, $150 remote controls, hats, telephones, books, carpet, baseboards, pretty much anything in her line of sight.)

The last couple of nights when she barks, I simply say, “uh-uh.” She stares at me for a minute to make sure I’m serious, and then lays down on the floor to sleep.
Somewhere trapped inside that crazy 6 month old border collie body, is a really good girl.

We traded in my giant mom-mobile for a smaller car and I am so happy about it, I’m like a teenager that just got a driver’s license. Out of milk? I’ll drive to the store! Need to run to the post office? Let me do it!
I love parking a smaller car, I love that I can reach my kids in the back seat to clunk their heads together when they tick me off. I love that I don’t need a ladder to get my groceries out of the back. So, so many little things to love.

We were having a trailer hitch installed on Tuesday (gotta be able to haul my bike!) so the dealership gave me a rental car since the process would take the better part of a day.
I noticed that as the rental car guy was entering my info into his computer, when it asked for the car type, he skipped past words like economy and standard, and settled on elite. At the time, it struck me as noteworthy, but I was more concerned with getting home to take my boys to swimming lessons so I didn’t think much about it.
As I was led out to the car lot to pick up my rental, there was a line of cars much like the car we just purchased, and I thought, I hope it’s the red one. I like that red one. But no. He led me toward a silver Jaguar. I laughed and said, “Are you setting me up with that Jag?” (har har, chortle, chortle) He said, “Yep.” I laughed again, but stopped laughing when he opened the door and handed me the key. “Oh. Serious? The Jaguar? Oooookay.”
On the way home I called Kelly to tell him I’m running late and would he please ready our boys for swimming lessons as I will be picking them up shortly in my Jaguar. He said, “Shut up.” I said, “You shut up. They gave me a dang Jaguar.”

So here I am. A mother of three messy, mostly unrefined boys, driving around in this ridiculous car, hoping The Fish doesn’t puke in the back seat (he’s an easy barfer) and making sure they don’t wipe boogers on the leather upholstery. Among the extraordinary things I did that day were, go to the post office, take Beck to karate, thrift store, Arctic Circle for a lime ricky run, and pick up the dry cleaning. And everywhere we went, people looked at this car. And then they looked at me. Like, they wanted to see who was driving it. I didn’t like being noticed this way.
I felt like a giant douche bag. And just so you know, I really tried not to say douche bag there, but I thought and thought and thought and there is no other phrase that can describe how I felt as accurately as that one.
I couldn’t wait to unload that car.
Tate said it best as we drove out of the Costco parking lot. He said, “Mom, we’re not fancy enough for this car.”
I think he hit it right on the head. Maybe some day, but for now, I couldn’t agree more.

PS. If you own a Jaguar, I’m sure you’re a lovely person. Fancy, but lovely.

Today, Kelly D. read my post from yesterday and he said something along the lines of, “Holy desperate cry for attention Batman”
Just for the record, I was soliciting questions for post topics, not begging for love. Not that I’m above that, because I’m not. And love and attention are both things I’m fond of.
But Brooke left a comment about reviewing local eateries and this is an idea I love! Because as much as I love attention and love, I love good food more.

Anyone who knows me will probably expect a review of The Dodo. But, I won’t be that predictable. (But just in case you are going to try that place for the first time, get the roasted tomato polenta cakes for an appetizer, house salad, and spinach/mushroom/feta quiche)

For this post, however, I want to tell you about Vito’s. Have you been? If not, let’s go! I have gift certificates out the wazoo! But no kidding, it’s the best Philly Cheesesteak you’ll ever eat in Utah. It’s located in downtown Bountiful in a parking lot at 100 South 100 East. He’s one dude in a trailer, taking orders and cooking all by himself. There’s a jar on the counter where you pay and make your own change. For $5.50 you can get a sandwich, bag O’ chips and a soda.
And Ohhhhh baby, is it good.

It’s been a busy couple of weeks.
I’ve been working on a big jewelry order and am almost finished with it. In between that and my motherly duties, I’m getting ready for the Artisan Fair coming up at the end of July. Very exciting, but also, a bit nerve-wracking because I’ve never done anything like this before. I hope it’s as fabulous at it is in my mind. I’ve teamed up with Erin, and everything she does is awesome, so I’m in good company at least.
Please come to this fun event. I’m asking so nicely, and I think there will be cupcakes.

Anyway, I wanted to post about lessons I’m learning while taking Nelly to puppy school. Lessons for me and not her. But, I don’t want to rush it, because puppy school isn’t over yet, and I don’t have time right now to do the topic justice.

So, I’m wondering two things:
1) Does anyone still read my blog? I took my sitemeter down last year, and I have no idea.
2) If the answer to question 1 is yes, do you have a question I can answer? Or a story to tell me? I did a Q and A once before and it was fun, but that was when I knew there were readers. Is anyone out there?
Hhhhhhelllllllooooo?

It’s not Paris, France, but culture abounds.
We spend every July 4th holiday at Bear Lake. We love it. There’s water fun, biking, camping and of course, the most perfect small town parade you could ever want in Paris, Idaho.

There are all kinds of charming scenes like this next one, to snap pictures of. Farms, old buildings, and orange poppies everywhere.

We come early to have our traditional lunch at the Paris Cafe. (That sounds more romantic than it is.)

I always drag the family into the little antique store near the cafe. I love treasure hunting in antique stores, but my male-ridden family usually go unwillingly and ask every two seconds if “we’re done yet”.

The parade starts around 1pm, and it never disappoints.
Floats are usually modest affairs with handmade touches.
I love them.

First up we have the towns’ oldest citizen.

Some plastic barrels linked together, then dragged behind a truck. Oh, my kids would love to ride in that rig.

A truckload of beauticians advertising their business. Note the spelling on the handmade sign.

Dancing pioneers…

Horsedrawn carriages…

Remnants from the horses…

Cheerleaders dancing through the remnants…(the show must go on!)

This may be the saddest parade display I’ve ever seen. Poor little pony.

The only thing this town’s parade is missing are some contenders for the beauty pageant. This is just sub-par.

My first two kids are shy. It’s just the way it is. Number one is more shy than number two, but neither of them do much to call attention to themselves. They are always hesitant about anything new. You get the picture.
Enter Beck.
He is the exact opposite of his brothers. I know I have mentioned before that he will talk to anyone, anywhere, anytime. He rolls down car windows to yell greetings at people on the street, he chats up cashiers in stores where we shop, he just never stops talking. Like, ever.

I took pictures of my friend’s daughter the other day, and he was flirting with her the whole time. “Watch this Jensyn”, he said. “I can do a run-walk.” Or, “Look at my strong arms.” As I was giving her directions on where to stand for the next photo, Beck again called for her attention. “Hey, Jensyn….” and then he simply struck this pose and smiled at her like the cheshire cat.

Yesterday, we were running into the grocery store in between the boys swimming lessons. They were wet and had their swimming suits on. Tate whined, “Mom! Can’t I stay in the car? I don’t wanna go in my swimming suit, everyone will look at me!”
Beck’s face lit up and without hesitation, he said, “Well, I’m coming in. I love it when people look at me!”
And that pretty much sums up his personality at the age of four.

What better excuse to throw a party is there? I have been so excited to geek out about the third Twilight movie coming out this week with fellow fans.
Behold:
Themed food table complete with downloadable drink labels found here. I made Penne with 5 cheeses, a Barefoot Contessa recipe, which I thought was really good, and it was super easy to make. I love everything in her cookbooks, so I wasn’t afraid to debut it for guests. I’m linking to the recipe because it’s been so long since I’ve done a Sunday Dinner post. You will like this. It’s really rich, so salad is the perfect side to go with it. I bought salad and breadsticks from Olive Garden though, to make life easier.

In trying to keep with the theme, I wanted to do a checkerboard cake for dessert (Breaking Dawn book cover) so I purchased the pan and gave it a shot. Mine is not as perfect as the one pictured on the box, but I am really happy with how it turned out.

Heidi, Jenn, and Amber brought really cute themed dessert items as well. (thank you!)

I wish I could have spent more time with each person that came, but I loved having everyone here. I didn’t get photos of everyone, but it’s not because I don’t love you, it’s because I’m a bonehead.

After dinner, we had a game of trivia, and I had prizes for everyone wrapped up in silver packages which I used for the centerpieces on the tables.

Since I was reading the questions, I didn’t compete, but I think I would have cleaned up. I am just that nerdy.
When it got dark, we watched New Moon outside on the lawn, and I totally fell asleep. I think I deserve some sort of lame-hostess award for napping at my own party.

Anyway, I hope people had fun because I certainly did. I am officially ready for Eclipse to come out.
I may need to diaper up before we go though, because I’m excited enough that I might just pee my pants.

Summer vacation is handling me. And, when I say handling me, I mean more like kicking my trash.
Kelly D. is gone all the time shooting summer weddings, and I have forgotten what it’s like to have all three boys home all day long.
I have things to write about but I’m so exhausted at the end of the day that I crash. Too tired to think.
Today is no different and I have jewelry orders to fill, so I’m just going to share this:
At the boy scouts bottle rocket launch tonight, the scout master told me to take off my hat when we said the pledge of allegiance. He singled me out, gestured to me and said, “Hats off.” I am just as patriotic as the next guy, but I didn’t think that rule applied to girls. Am I wrong? Besides that, the hat had been on my head since right after my shower this morning and the hat-hair that was happening under there was beyond description.
I guess I’m not totally for the equal treatment of women.

I couldn’t have picked a better father for my three boys. Kelly D. is fun, affectionate, firm, concerned, involved, playful, responsible, and a bunch of other adjectives I can’t think of at the moment.
He is the best example I can imagine when I think of the men I would like my boys to be like when they’re grown.
We really are lucky over here at our house.
Happy Father’s Day!

Usually, my requirement for what I post about here is that it be something I want to remember.
Because I forget some of the best stuff, and then I go back and read my archives and I’m so happy I wrote about these nuggets because I’ve already forgotten them and they are gems.

Today, however, I am writing about how I saw a man pee in the driveway across the street from my house.

This is not something I care to look back on fondly, but I’m afraid it isn’t going to leave my mind anytime soon, so let’s just hash it out then, shall we?

There is a huge construction project happening on our street right now. The whole road is torn up, and it’s just a big mess. Tractors, trucks, etc. It’s all here. And I’m pretty sure it will be for at least a month.
Anyway. My mail isn’t being delivered because there are trucks parked in front of my mailbox and I’m annoyed because I am expecting packages and letters. Good letters, not just bills.

So, I am in my truck in front of my home calling the post office to see if I can pick up my mail since it’s not in my mail box, when I watch a man walk down the street, turn onto the driveway across the street from my house, unzip his pants, pull out his… (yes! I saw it!) and pee.
Who does this?
My mouth drops open, and a sound of amazement and disgust escapes. The boys were in the back seat and are at this point saying, “what mom?” “what did you see?” “WHAT??”
You know what I did? I got out of my truck, I walk right over there and I say, “Hey! Are you peeing? Are you over here peeing in the driveway?”
The guy looks over his shoulder, finishes up what he’s doing, zzzzzippppp, and then turned around and said, “Yeah.”
Except that he won’t look at me. I’m looking from him, to at the pool of urine at his feet and then back at him. Then I say, “And is that your truck parked in front of my mail box?” Again he says, “Yeah.” So I say, “Well, go move it! The mail isn’t coming because you’re parked there, you animal.”

As he walked up to his truck, he muttered, “Sorry I offended you.”
I was totally wound up and mad about it for at least an hour. But, now it’s like 6 hours later, and I’m wondering if I overreacted. Maybe animal was a bit harsh.
Thoughts?