Monday, July 30, 2012

The F.R.I.D.A.Y. Hooligans and a Bit of Common Courtesy

Do you see where we ended up during this particular F.R.I.D.A.Y. freakout a few weeks ago?  In the courtesy booth!  Aldopho looks quite at home in there for some reason.  Sometimes a person just has to let the inner Tarzan out, and the courtesy booth is just the place to go so as not to disturb the other non-Tarzan-ish diners.  Heh, heh.  Yes, well, I admit that loud laugh of mine does get rather grating at times, hence the courtesy booth . . . .

Sean is what we might call "long-suffering" to put up with me, bless his heart.

Did this mirror picture blow your brains out?  I'm still trying to figure it all out.  So, if we look in the mirror, and then we take a picture of us looking in the mirror, and then we look at that picture of us looking at ourselves taking a picture in the mirror--good grief!  Just pull out that straight jacket yet again for me, will ya?

Thursday, July 26, 2012

While the Cat Is Away, the Mice Shall Play (With the Cat's Scooter)!

It must be established here that the movie, "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid" is among our family's favorites.  In fact, for most of us, I think it rates in our top five.  Paul!  Robert!  The quotable lines!  The music!  It is a masterpiece, I tell ya!  

There is one particular scene where that stud of a guy, Paul Newman (Butch Cassidy), does some crazy planking (a man ahead of his time) on a rickety bicycle ala this:

I would probably kiss the top of your head if you would take the time to watch the entire brilliantly-composed scene here.  Okay!  Did you watch it?  No?  If I promise to NOT kiss the top of your head, will you watch it now?  My feelings won't be hurt if you don't want the top of your noggin kissed by me, just watch the clip, right?! {Personally, I think one of the best moments in all of film history is at the 3:10 mark.  Yeow, Paul Newman!} 


Alrighty, then.  You are now better prepared to understand why the little movie below just about blows my mind since it is chock full of so many of my loves.  It's got Seanie!  On Christian's awesome orange sherbet scooter!  Channeling Paul Newman!  And Kimball's tiny little voice in there somewhere!  Just get your buttered popcorn ready, and enjoy the impromptu surprise which Sean, without warning, let loose on us the other day:    

*It must be noted that the mouse has the cat's full permission to play with the cat's scooter while he is away :D

Monday, July 23, 2012

Tramp Champs?

Kimball is a glutton for the "tramp-o-leeeeeeeeeen!"  He loves it.  Absolutely loves it.  His blackened feet speak volumes about how much he loves it.  He especially likes to have Papa play a little private game with him which the two of them concocted--something to do with a magic rock.  The rock puts Papa to sleep, Kimball then wakes him up, and Papa proceeds to scare the living daylights out of Kimball.  Or something like that.

Kimball and I have no such magic rock between the two of us.  We just have "magic rock."  As in, rockin' and rollin' on that tramp-o-leeeen until my calves scream bloody murder and Kimball comes to the realization that Deedee ain't no Christian and Ashley.  (Good golly miss molly.  Here we go . . . just the mere mention of . . . waaaaaaahhhh!  I miss that kid like nobody's business!  {Bet you never heard that from me before.})  

Anywho, it is so nice to have a three-year-old around to give Papa and Deedee a good excuse for behaving like, well, like three-year-olds.  That insessant whining has just GOT to stop, however, and I'm sure the whole family agrees that I'm beyond old enough to know better and that I should just knock off my whining right now before I teach Kimball any bad habits.  I suppose they've got me on that one.  

Tuesday, July 17, 2012


Is this the latest in conveyance of missionaries in Sweden these days?  Man, we heard that the Swedes were way ahead of the U.S. in technology, but I'm thinking that the use of a catapult as a high-speed form of human transportation went out with the siege of Stirling Castle.   Am I wrong?  Huh.  Who knew?   Have a good flight there, Christian!  {Where is your helmet, young man?!!!}

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Four Weddings and a Funeral Walrus

People aren't just whistlin' dixie when they speak of "June brides."  You think that's simply a worn-out and tired cliche--June brides?  Well, I'm here to tell you 'tain't so!  June brides are real, boys and girls, and they have taken over the world!  

Full disclosure:  I was a June bride and so that makes me a board certified expert on the subject; I know whereof I speak.

One recent Saturday in . . . wait for it . . . JUNE(!!!), Dave and I went to not one, not two, not three, but four wedding receptions!  All in the same evening!  In June!  Brides were everywhere!  Also, crepes!  Soup!  Bread!  A candy smorgasbord!  Finger sandwiches!  Paninis!  Macarons! Vegetable trays!  Lemonade in little glass jars!  And, cake, cake, cake, and cake! 

I now feel like even more of an expert (cuz, you know, like I said, being a June bride myself does automatically make me an expert on all things Juney and bridey) after that single evening, and I came away with three observations:

1) The four brides and four grooms were oblivious to anything or anyone except each other.  "Whoops!  There goes the top tier of the cake, Darling!  Aw, who cares as long as I have my sugar right here beside me." *kisskiss* 

2) The four mothers of the brides appeared to be triumphant and euphoric and relishing the role of a four-star general. "We need more Bubba Shrimp put out on the buffet and the cotton candy machine is clogged again!  Come on, people!  Chop, chop!"

3) The four fathers of the brides simply had the look of resignation written all over their faces. "Yes, Dear.  Whatever you want, Dear.  Just take my wallet and have your way with it, Dear."  

Since we all know a wedding truly is about the bride and her mother, and since I have already ridden in that rodeo, and since I have two very eligible bachelor sons to marry off, I am very aware that the correct role of the mother of the groom(s) (that would be me) in this whole wedding deal is:  Wear beige, sit in the corner, and keep your mouth shut.  Those of you who know me well know that just ain't gonna happen.  I'll definitely be wearing something very non-beigey paired with the highest of heels, not be sitting nor be in the corner, and will be whoopin' it up with my mouth wide open, not shutting it the entire day.  

And, I'll love those new daughters-in-law of mine as if they were my own (just as I love son-in-law Jordan {perfect choice, Ash!}) knowing that these girls must be something special (in Ashley's case, Jordan!) in order for my boys to have chosen them to wed.  

Oh!  And, I just may make my grand entrance upon the back of a walrus.  That's just the way I roll.
This walrus just happened to catch my eye (ya think?) as we were leaving reception #4. You should have seen Dave's eyes roll into the back of his head when I made him screech to a halt so we could have a look-see at 
Mr. Walrus just there.  "I am the walrus, goo goo g'joob." 

Sean and Christian have probably already assumed they are doomed to a life of bachelorhood, having to deal with the issue of presenting me as a mother-in-law to potential brides. If we get lucky, perhaps Dave's normalcy will counteract my gooberness and give our boys a tiny smidgeon of a chance . . . 

Monday, July 09, 2012

F.R.I.D.A.Y. Reflection

Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.*

"Men have wasted away before it, not knowing if what they have seen is real, or even possible."
Albus Dumbledore 

Sean got all artsy-smartsy with this particular F.R.I.D.A.Y. photo op a few weeks ago, and instead of imposing on some tired and overworked busboy to take our pic, Sean used a mirror in the restaurant's lobby.  This pretty little twist to our normally staid and routine F.R.I.D.A.Y. photo almost blew Aldolpho's mind--are we a picture inside of a picture?  A photo in a mirror?  A reflection in a camera?  Kind of trippy.  Aldolpho may need to drink some hard herbal tea and lie down for a bit to think this one through. He may or may not have lost his mind after that one.  Sort of like what that "Inception" movie did to me and my feeble little mind . . . 
Mirror, mirror on the wall 

So, who was able to spy Aldolpho just hanging around at our previous F.R.I.D.A.Y. fa-la-la, trying to look all inconspicuous but failing spectacularly because of his day-glo orange hair?

*Reversing the inscription and rearranging the spaces produces this heading on the top of the Mirror of Erised: 

"I show not your face but your heart's desire." --J.K. Rowling

And, because inquiring minds wanted to know . . . 

Saturday, July 07, 2012

The Scene of the Crime

Krime Scene Kimball was our official police sketch artist, specializing in drawing our criminal faces in such a way as to make us look even more criminal-y than usual, if that is at all possible

And, while we're on the subject of crime scenes, I am now informed that we could have done a ton more illegal stuff than just defacing private property, and we totally could have gotten away with it on this particular Election Day Tuesday.  Why?  Check this out:

Article IV, Section 3 of the Utah Constitution reads as follows:

"In all cases except those of treason, felony or breach of the peace, voters shall be privileged from arrest on the days of election, during their attendance at elections, and going to and returning therefrom."

" . . . voters shall be privileged from arrest on the days of election . . . "???  Man!  I wish we would have known!  We could have gone wild with reckless abandon and without fear of being flung into the pokey that day!  Who knows?  I may have even been enticed to yank the label off of my mattress had I known about this constitutional loophole!  Well, there's always November.  

While we feel pretty ding-dong great about the artwork that resulted from our defacing of private property, I suppose we must tip our sidewalk chalky hats to this genius dude guy:

Wednesday, July 04, 2012

Kowboy Kimball

I'm an old cowhand from the Rio Grande
      But my legs ain't bowed and my cheeks ain't tan
I'm a cowboy who never saw a cow
Never roped a steer cause I don't know how
Sure ain't a fixin to start in now
Yippie yi yo kayah!