Definitely did that

Even in college I noticed this specific trend. Where a whole casserole pan or spaghetti pot would be stuck in the fridge. The leftovers being too large to splice up into leftover dishes, the whole dish was put in the icebox. And then one would just continually pull out what was needed for lunches and dinners and what not until the thing was consumed. But then, a person is too much in the habit of just being able to put the dish back in the fridge instead of cleaning anything and habit prevails even when the dish is empty.

Steven has done this to me a few times, where I think there are more leftovers than there are, and then to my surprise, there are really NO leftovers, just an empty, dirty dish sitting in the fridge. No fair.

We rarely make dishes of this size because I have a hard time eating left overs and it takes Steven a few days to get through a dish on his own and by that time I am wondering if he should really be eating it 'cause among his food habits he has a talent for leaving things out for long amounts of time that should be directly refrigerated.

But I digress. This post is for confession. I definitely did that. I took the last of the lasagna and put the lid back on the casserole dish and placed it gently back in the fridge. Now, my reasons are different. I didn't have time to wash it up and I didn't want to leave it out to get dry and crusty so that washing it would become impossible and I wasn't about to leave water in a stoneware bake dish for more than half a hour. So, there. I have my reasons.

However, it did fill me with great giddiness when Steven went to get food out for dinner, pulled the dish out, and found it empty. Bahaha, I am so sneaky.

Fire extinguisher damage anyone?

This week I have been given the coveted schedule at work. 9-5:30 every day with a Tuesday and Friday off. Doesn't get much better than that for retail, folks. It seems most of the good stories happen in the evening, so I wasn't surprised when I came in Monday morning and a whole isle of product was gone. I was looking forward to a good one, and definitely got my news fill when the other framer came in later.

Apparently a woman was shopping (I know, right?) and... bumped the fire extinguisher with her purse. Which made the thing fall from the post it's attached to and pop the pin just enough to spray down a whole isle of product. I guess it sounded like an air gun going off with a lot of wheezing in between. That's not all, though. Apparently even with this disaster not happening very often, people were smart enough to see the powder fill the air and go up toward the front so that when Morgan got off the phone and was able to investigate there was no one to ask what had happened. That would be kinda creepy, hu? They had to call in both the manager and the assistant manager (who hadn't even worked that day) to help get things under control.

Later that evening when there was caution tape up and a few associates were bagging up anything and everything is when the comical part of this fiasco starts. Not being prepared for air raids like back in the 70s we had no face masks so the two bagging wore a couple of bandannas around their mouths and looked more like looters than anything else. Craft store looters. Too funny. The caution tape couldn't keep a woman from her yarn and when they found her on the other side in the 'danger zone' she claimed that there wasn't enough caution tape for her to be aware of any danger. That it was too easy to slip under. Oh my.

That morning I was asked to help damage out all the product. This included dragging 13 bags from the back storage, back as in through two locked doors, a hallway that smells faintly of Christmas left overs and into a barren room that could easily hold hostages for years. As I drug bag after bag of kid projects the woods would break open all over the stairs and I would have to take a few more trips back and forth to gather up the pieces that had gotten left behind. When I first entered the scene they had one girl working on it. She had set up camp in the doorway, trying not to take up any room from the yarn and basket section and was bent in half in the frame, a full bag of stuff to her right and am empty bag to her left. She would scan an item, find as many of it as possible, type in a number, and put all 6 of them into the empty bag. This was indeed a job for two people and I demanded a table and a stool. So after a quick re-set we were going 3x as fast as original as I sorted product out on to the table and she scanned and typed numbers in. I sat on the stool to pull stuff out so that I didn't have to use my stomach muscles more than needed. I mean, seriously, you can get light-headed from bending and straightening so much. We got the whole bang of it done in 7 hours. Yuck. And I have been coughing up snot ever since. My body done me good to keep that stuff out of my system.

Luckily I didn't have to go to work today, so I hope they got the next step done, which is pulling everything BACK out and going through it AGAIN and anything with a wrapper that would keep the product from getting direct contact with the dust gets to be scanned AGAIN and put back out on the shelf. That, my friends, may be a two day project and may be my project since I started on the damaging of it all. GROSS. Makes me want to hurl everything into the garbage.

Starting early

I haven't been feeling up to par lately, and that's putting is mildly, so I shouldn't have been surprised as to what I found in our garden today after neglecting it for a week at a time. It's been raining kind of regularly around here so thank goodness I haven't had to stress about watering the plants out there, but about once a week there will be a dry spell and I remember that they can't turn the hose on by their own and I go out there to pour water on their thirsty stems.

The ants have gotten the sunflowers and are moving on. Yes. My 8 inch plants of last week have been reduced to 4 inch pieces of pipe cleaner. No leaves to speak of and hardly a stem. I could have cried. All of my watching and worrying and bam, my hopes and dreams are eaten alive. Luckily it's only the sunflowers at this point, but unfortunately the sunflowers are what were thriving on the dry climate I was reducing my garden to.

Looking at other people's gardens, they're just getting out to enjoy the weather and putting in some starter plants, so we may have to start from scratch and bag the whole thing as a learning experience, but not be completely behind everyone else. It was nice and all to watch everything grow from seeds, but I am afraid that I grew too attached to their little green spokes and then the novelty wore off by the time it was time to transplant. Bummer deal for them.

Steven's baby shower

We were out watching a t-ball game at the local park Thursday night when Steven remembered, "Hey, isn't there a baby shower today?" There's been an epidemic in our ward lately of prego bellies popping out all over the place, most of them in the young women's program. They actually just released half of the presidency a few weeks ago to be prepared for the deliveries that are going to happen within the next few weeks.

For not knowing too many people in our ward, we know a lot of these preggos and our door has continually been littered with baby shower invitations. I say our door because living in such a small town where the ward is physically located within a total of 3x3 blocks it's easier to go door-t0-door leaving papers than to spend time writing and addressing envelopes.

Now, I am not going to lie, I avoid baby showers like I used to avoid bridal showers. It just makes you crave something you don't have in your life yet. They're not what I enjoy and usually filled with knowledge and advice from those who have had kids before and this leaves no room for us novices to win any kind of prizes. Lame-o.

There is rarely an excuse to miss them and I just end up not going and feeling guilty about it for the remainder of the few hours that they last. But that day especially I wasn't feeling so hott and hadn't bothered to take a shower for the past three days and was feeling the effects. The baby shower was scheduled to end in 30 minutes and there was no way I was going to make myself presentable in that short of a time and still have time to go get a gift. I fained the card of not feeling well, in all honesty it was just too overwhelming to even think about setting foot in a house where everything was decked out in blue and yellow and everyone smelled nice and were so happy to be celebrating a baby.

"Do you want to go?" He asked. "No, I don't want to go by myself." "I would go with you." This made all my churning thoughts stop. Say what? He would go with me? That's kind of an unusual agreement. "You know you're not invited, right?" "What? It doesn't say anything like that. We'll just go together, say hi, and bounce back out. Where's it at?" I wasn't about to give out any information for fear that he would take us right there, so, again, I requested to go home. Besides, we didn't have a gift. All I had was a $10 dollar bill in my pocket leftover from grocery shopping. There was no stopping his curiosity.

Steven got us right home and made up a card from a piece of computer paper and scribbled on with a black sharpie something about congratulations and blah blah blah. And he was ready to go. He asked for the bill, which had literally been crumpled into a wad and stuffed in my pocket. There was no unfolding and flattening this thing. There was some difficulty in unwadding it and even then it was quite the crumpled piece of sorriness. But it went into the card anyways, refusing to lay flat.

Out the door he went, his destination one of the oldest houses in Farmington. It's actually just kiddie corner from us on main street so I wasn't surprised when he came back all of 10 minutes later.

"Woah. There were a lot of women there! I mean, I thought Jake or someone would be there, ya know, just hangin' out, taking gifts or whatever. Filling the punch bowl. There was no one. Just a lot of ladies and baby stuff. But I got some food and I told them all that you were sick and I was just there to represent and they insisted that I take something back for you."

And that was it. I doubt he'll be going to one again.

Life is boring?

I do what I can, but Handsome Husband thinks our lives are boring. Or, at least, not as exciting as what they seem when I write. I would have to call that a lie. And remind him that it's a talent to take 30 seconds and make it a novela. I think our lives could use a few more vacations and a few more late nights running around the city, but when you're married and responsible and all that your creativity for doing crazy things like stealing road signs is limited. Mostly because your frontal cortex is developed enough to see the consequences of what may happen, and even consequences of those consequences. What a blessing, right?

So you gotta take the moments you can. The boring ones. And you gotta make them exciting. You gotta make them something worth talking about or else you're going to be one boring person to talk to. I remember in high school I was dating a great guy, unfortunately we only got to talk on the phone on weekends and we only saw each other twice a month. I made sure that I always had a story to tell him, and what do you know, when you're looking for stories, they just appear out of nowhere. Like the time I rode my bike home from picking strawberries. Boring? No. Definitely not if you're looking for a story.

Our lives are made out of stories. If we relied on life-changing events to make our days out of I am afraid many of us would not exist. It's this simple truth that keeps me writing. There's always something going on. But being able to pin-point what it is, that is the hard part. It takes some practice, but is definitely worth it, because then, when asked what you did during the weekend or the holiday you have a great answer. And people think you are intriguing and want to be your friend, and everyone wants friends.

So if your life is boring (at this point please imagine me on a soap box, painted light blue with the white lettering of 'soap' sprawled across in some fancy, Victorian writing.) than start piecing out your stories. Think of one event that happens to you a day that most people probably didn't have the fantastic opportunity of experiencing. Figure out why it was memorable and then tell someone else so that they will be sure not to forget, as well. And bam, you start living and life isn't so boring.

Thai and mansion hunting

Yesterday Handsome Husband and I went and got us some Thai. I don't even remember the first time that I had curry, but I have been hooked ever since. The thick richness of it topped on rice is just too good! I was feeling adventurous and tried ordering up some green curry. I am always mixed up as to which is hotter and what not, so I looked at the main ingredients and decided some coconut milk and bamboo strips would be the way to go. The little waitress warned me against the hottness and I ended up with yellow. I chickened out. And every restaurant is a little different in their preparation so I thought it best to follow her advice.

Which, speaking of America's favorite past time, eating out, that is one of the biggest reasons why I love hamburgers so much. It doesn't matter what restaurant you are at, you know the hamburgers are going to be good because they all run about the same. Chicken on the other hand is always a surprise. Handmade batter sounds good, but when you get your strips covered in deep fried cornflake crumbs you gotta think otherwise.

Anyways, the yellow curry was delicious, just what I needed. Steven got his regular drunken noodles. These noodles are sooooo good. They're kind of sweet, and extra slimey, but they are divine. A definite favorite around here.

On our way home we drove a different way than the usual 'get anywhere in 10 minutes freeway' and found ourselves on highway 89. Looking up at the side of the Utah mountains we noticed some humongo houses. They were gorgeous, showing off their daylight basements and other floors to the world. And then, there it was, spires and spouts all over the place. A mansion. We took a stoplight and took a meandering drive up the mountain in search of this place.

It was even better than I had imagined. All of the houses had obviously had some big dreams behind them and the landscaping was tastefully done, using the boulders and rocks while hiding them with some greenery. We kept climbing, pointing out things on different houses that we liked. And then, there it was. Gates upon gates, protecting the fortress. It looked like a scene from a prom movie. An ascending lawn with stone steps circling down to the main gate. Gorgeous. That was as close as we could get, but it was enough to make me think that I would never have even been able to dream something that magnificent up. It truly made me want to dress up in a princess gown and descend those steps to my prince below. It would make a beautiful wedding scene.

As we rolled back down the hill in our car that still has scars from its mishap with a teenage driver and on the other side its gaping smile after being hit by a deer we wondered what we are doing wrong. Why we don't have any hopes for living in a home like that some day. We wondered out loud what all these people do for a living and how they afford their homes. And there were some answers. A few houses had trucks in the drive, shouting out successful business names. A pilot in the air force was taking his toddler for a walk, still in uniform. One car came pulling in around 8 pm, obviously its driver was just getting home. Which isn't so bad in the summer when there's still some daylight left. But 8 pm in the winter is bedtime.

We may never own a bench house home, but we will have plenty of memories to make up for it. Our kitchen with the green counter tops and the shag carpet in the bedrooms is enough to keep me happy for some time.

visually challenged

Upon taking framing orders, putting together framing orders and calling about framing orders I have to do framing recovery. This means that around 7:30 when the store is nearing emptiness I start walking the floor and tidying up the frame isles. I usually start with the fine arts, which is usually kind of a big job because it involves pulling paint tubes forward and rearranging kits of paint and brushes and all that so as to make it look all presentable again. The frames are often misplaced as people have lifted and placed them along side their original spot, searching for their choice frame among the frame that they like. Does that make sense? For example. You like the barnwood frame. But which of the 3 barnwood frames on the shelf is going to be the best? So you take it and place them beside themselves, trying to decide. And when you decide and realize the mess you have made you think to yourself, 'oh, it's cool. It's someone's job to put these back.' and you take your choicest frame up to the front the check out, never looking back.

Which is fine, 'cause I know those frames like the hair on my legs that I regularly shave off and I know when something is misplaced. It's just annoying. So, this particular Wednesday I am walking doing the isles, doing my special, 'which one does not look like the other' dance and I come across the Hurricane Katerina of the visually challenged.

My memory went racing, trying to find the the writing on the barometer that would have signaled something like this. And there he was. An old man, white hair... a little unsure as to what would please his wife on this mission he was on. He was looking for a collection of frames. He had asked me if we had any pre-made sets of frames with different sizes available. I showed him our table-top frames that usually come in your standard three sizes, 4x6, 5x7, and the 8x10s. All the same design that you could get together in those three sizes. A collection set.

Well, grandpa man had made quite the effort to mix things up the best he could while still maintaining a theme. There were frames moved from the other side of the isle, placed in groups of 3 or 4, testing out what kind of frame pieces looked good together and in which way. This was no simple, place one frame beside the other kind of deal though. This was an arrangement.

We're getting ready for a reset, which means that right now the shelves are kind of empty because a lot of frames are waiting to be clearanced out to make more room for some fresher varieties and designs. Which means lots of room for Van Gogh to design his frame arrangements. There were at least four different arrangements with select styles all jumbled together. It looked like someone had been dusting their coffee table and had arranged the frames just so, so that when they went to put them back after cleaning they would be in the exact same way.

Poor man couldn't imagine which frames would look good together, he had to see it. Had to touch and feel each one, putting them not only in a straight row, but grouping them together in a little display.