Now What?

Seven years ago Bruce urged me to start writing a blog. I resisted at first, but the more I thought about it, the more interesting it sounded. So I got onto Blogger.com and set up this blog; it took a lot of time to come up with the name, and even more to figure out what to write about. I was at a complete loss; I could think of nothing interesting to write about. Finally I wrote about the laundry and my utter hatred for that never-ending chore.

Well now I find myself in the same predicament. I can't think of anything to write about––not even the laundry because my laundering sensibilities have evolved: I almost don't care. I figure if I never go into the laundry room or my kids' rooms, the laundry won't bother me. And it almost doesn't.

But that is beside the point. The real point is this: What could I possibly have to write that is of any interest at all?

Conversation

Every morning Bruce and I "talk" via text messaging while we get ourselves ready for the day ahead. Some of our conversations do not have an approved rating for all audiences. But here is this morning's conversation is safe for all eyes:




Me:  Did you know that when I wake up in the morning I always look over to see you?

Me:  I didn't realize it myself until lately.  You are not there when I look.

Bruce North:  I wish I was next to you right now.

[This last message came when I was already typing in the next one. Text messaging is not the most graceful way of communicating.]

Me:  I don't know how late the boys stayed up on the computers, despite my telling them to go to bed many times . . .

[And now that I've received Bruce's last message . . .]

Me: I WISH YOU WERE WITH ME TOO! (I had to put that in all caps because it's the important part of my ramblings.)

Bruce North:  :) I love you. You're cute.

[How could I not love a man who says I am cute? Again, that message came while I was already typing the next one.]

Me:  This morning one of those boys was awake @ 6:00! I heard him go into the bathroom & I thought, 'I have to get up & be your alarm clock every morning so you'll be 

Me: on time for school You are NOT getting up @ 6 a.m. to play on the computer!' (Grrrrr!)

Me: So I jumped out of bed & ran to the kitchen (in my underwear) while he was in the bathroom, so I could lock the computer.

Me:  Naturally, he got out of the bathroom while I was sitting @ the computer in my underwear.

Me:  Think he gets my message?

Bruce North:  Sorry. Your robe was behind the chair.  I don't know. I hope he gets it. Is Michael's [computer] locked?

[Now that my story is done, I can respond to the "cute" message.]

Me:  I LOVE YOU TOO BRUCE!

[In all caps, because it's important, right? And now I can reply to the latest question too.]

Me:  No, someone was already playing on Michael's computer.  Could be Michael.  Maybe I should have gone down there in my underwear to chew them out.

Me:  Maybe the added embarrassment would help . . .
except that if the computer is on they don't even look when I talk to them.

Me:  Gotta wake up the girls.

[The girls have school today at Entheos, even though the boys at Paradigm don't.]

Bruce North:  My mother in her underwear would put the fear of God in ME.

Me:  ;D
I know, right?

[Bahahahaha! I love my husband!]

Gingerbread House

On Sunday, November 30 Bishop Jeppson threw down the gauntlet: Our ward Christmas party was coming up on Friday, December 5 and there was going to be a gingerbread house contest! (And he may have said something like we wouldn't be able to beat him.) Well! Since we make a gingerbread house every year, we would just have to do ours that week and enter the contest too.

Unfortunately for our building project, that was the same week that Brandon's school musical was running. He played Lazar Wolf in Fiddler on the Roof, and I had to run him up town to the theater and back home again, Monday through Thursday night that week. But the play was fun, and Brandon did an awesome job!!

"The papas!" (Tradition)

Lazar Wolf speaks to Tevye about Tzeitle 

"A milk cow?! So I won't be lonely?"

To Life

"Lazar Wolf, I have always wanted a son . . . but I wanted one a little younger than myself!"

"He shamed me in front of the whole village!"

It seems like I was doing a bunch of other stuff that week too, but I can't remember what. Anyway, what that meant was that we didn't even get to start on the house until Friday morning. So, naturally, I kept all my kids home from school that day because, yes, I am the kind of mother who keeps her kids home from school all day to build a gingerbread house. And it was going to be done no later than 5:30 that evening so we could enter it in the contest because, yes, I am a little competitive.

But first I had to take Kaylie to the orthodontist that morning and we didn't get home until 10:40, and I still had to finish drawing the house patterns. At 11:45-ish we were finally putting the first pieces into the oven to bake; we didn't finish baking the house until 3:30—only two hours to pour the windows, build and decorate our house! Aaaaaagh!

cutting out the windows

pouring hard-candy syrup in the decorated windows
(I was told we almost got disqualified because they thought the windows were plastic—the entire house had to be edible.)

the girls dip pretzel sticks—which we ended up not using
(except for one)

Rachel makes frosting glue

I finished building the house and the girls got some minimal decorating done by 5:37. Just in time to rush to the party (which started at 6:00).

Jessica, with our entry

Yes, it was the biggest house—standing next to the smallest houses entered. (Ours was actually not my favorite house in the contest; I voted for another one.)

This . . .

. . . and this is what we came home to after the party.

But we won the "People's Choice" award!
(I think it's the fancy windows that did it.
And maybe the super-cute snowmen.)

But that is not the end of the gingerbread house story. Nope.
We still wanted to really decorate our house.

Rachel begins by covering a big crack in the wall.

While the girls decorated the house, Ryan and I worked on something else. Can you tell what it is?

And here's the finished house:

Yay!

Didn't they do a nice job?

2014 Wish List

I am late coming out with my Christmas List—honestly, I haven't given it much thought this year. Which is probably OK, since I'm pretty sure Santa saves my list for the last three days of preparation before Christmas. Anyway, here, once again, is my infamous Wish List:

La Campanella (sheet music) by Franz Liszt. You can listen to it here. And I bet you can print it yourself for free (which, yes, means that I could too, but what's the fun in that?).

While we're talking about sheet music, I didn't get the music for Milonga Sureña by Juan Jose Ramos last year, and it really is cool and I'd like to learn it. You can listen to that one here. (In fact, this one might be the cooler piece, in my opinion—such awesome rhythm!)

If I get either of these sheet musics I promise I will practice the piano again! But maybe especially Milonga Sureña.

Clothes are always a given—a dress, some nice tops, maybe some shoes . . .

A CAMERA! My life is so sad without my camera! I bought a used one from the want-ads (ksl.com), but it's not as nice as the one that disappeared.


Hmmm. I really can't think of anything else. There are things I need—like getting the timing fixed on my sewing machine, and things I could use—like getting some business cards printed. But that just doesn't sound fun or Christmas-y. So Santa should be pleased to see that I have a very short list this year.

And, in case you were wondering, I have been a very, very good girl!

Sad

It has been a month, to the day, since I last posted anything on my blog. Maybe because my life has become a bore.  It's not that I'm not doing things, or not busy. Actually I've been very busy. Over the last month I have patterned and made an entire wedding dress (photos later, when I get them), and I altered another wedding dress (hemmed it and replaced the bodice––and I'm waiting for pics of that one too). Now I'm working on Santa's coat, and then more sewing for Santa (to help out his elves––Christmas is coming fast!).  On top of that, I'm still trying to run my house––at least enough to keep us all alive.

But I'm running the house without my second half. Bruce has been teaching school in Vernal, 176 miles away, since August 11. You might wonder why he took a teaching job in Vernal instead of Salt Lake. Good question.  Bruce doesn't have a full teaching license, but because he does have a bachelor's degree he qualified for Utah state's Alternate Route to Licensure (ARL) program. This gives him a temporary teaching license so he can have a full-time teaching job while he goes to school to take the extra classes he needs to get the full certificate. He has two years (from the time he got the teaching job) to finish his license.  But the school districts here in the Salt Lake Valley absolutely will not hire an ARL teacher. So he applied in other districts in the state, and Uintah School District (Vernal) snatched him up. (He got a glowing recommendation from one of the principals he subbed for last year––because he is an awesome teacher!)

This is Mr. North's school picture for Maeser Elementary School. He is teaching 5th grade, and is a very popular teacher. :-)

At first we thought he'd find us a place to live out there and we'd all move. Instead he found that a one-bedroom apartment costs almost the same as our current house payment. (Fortunately Bruce found a very kind family who have taken him in as part of their family––rent free. He's become very good friends with them.) See, the oil fields in Vernal are booming right now and even an entry-level truck driver makes 1 1/2 times what a school teacher does. So housing prices have shot up (almost double what they are in Salt Lake, and triple what we still owe on our house), and the demand is high. In short, we can't compete.

I had considered this possibility when Bruce drove away that first day in August. I thought that he might have to finish his teaching certificate in Vernal while we lived here without him for two years, seeing him only on the weekends. And I knew it would be hard, but I believed that it would get easier as time went by; never fun, by any means, but more bearable with time.In fact, what has actually happened is that it gets harder and harder for me to send him away each week. During the weeks I have to take care of things like kidney stones, oral surgery, installing a dishwasher, the van completely breaking down (completely––not worth paying for more repairs), kids running six different directions, and managing the house all by myself. On the weekends I only see Bruce for 14 to 20 hours (waking hours); it's not enough. It's not enough time for him to do the things that I can't do myself, and spend time with the kids, and not nearly enough time for me. I am lonely.

And, consequently, I can't think of anything interesting to write about. Aaawwww! Pretty sad, huh? It makes me feel babyish just to write this. Especially when I have so many things to be grateful for—like Bruce's job, and his dad helping me out so much while Bruce is gone, and my really nice kids.
But I miss my husband desperately.