tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6437686552880763892024-02-18T23:28:54.216-08:00Share The PantsA blog about two control-freaks who are happily married (with three adorable little ones). Join us as we learn to "share the pants."janelle perkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796604357588375744noreply@blogger.comBlogger40125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643768655288076389.post-45479498177566661492014-05-08T05:13:00.002-07:002014-05-08T05:13:35.015-07:00Mother's Day<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am not a fan of manufactured holidays. There is a part of me that resents feeling manipulated and being made to feel guilty about something new in my life. "Greeting card" holidays of "Hallmark holidays" are pushed upon us from all kinds of angles. There are days like "Boss's Day," "Secretary Day," and "Grandparent's Day," that have yet to catch much steam. Then there are the big 3: Valentines Day, Mother's Day, and Father's Day; These days loom on the calendar with societal expectations that often take the sincerity out of loving gestures and replaces them with minimum requirements. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I've never felt like I needed a day to show love to those who are important and cherished to me. I hope my loved ones feel appreciation from me on a regular basis. I prefer to buy flowers for Nellie out of the blue as opposed to only buying them when their prices spike and my purchasing power diminishes. I likewise enjoy spending time with my parents when there is no particular reason to do so. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Despite my internal aversion toward being told there are specific days that I need to show someone that I love them, I have come to appreciate the "big 3" as days of reflection. With Mother's day approaching this year my thoughts have returned often to the mothers in my life. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk35aQki5VOi4FMNQNJBIUGuxKQAin_J-fMbeI6Dui47Pr4XlJm46Dl445xh5PW6LoAJMC0dBYvBNCVpOQIGEb5IZP-KM0ZuqBNqKVuLYJRijADR5NlodPLOBU_ux5fu93DHZbW9Scoqo/s1600/Mom+and+Me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk35aQki5VOi4FMNQNJBIUGuxKQAin_J-fMbeI6Dui47Pr4XlJm46Dl445xh5PW6LoAJMC0dBYvBNCVpOQIGEb5IZP-KM0ZuqBNqKVuLYJRijADR5NlodPLOBU_ux5fu93DHZbW9Scoqo/s1600/Mom+and+Me.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom and I at Eva's Witch Party last Halloween</td></tr>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My own mother is wonderful and charming. She has a lot of personality and is funny, loving and quirky. She isn't afraid of being a little silly in spite of the fact that she will turn the big 6-0 this year. Because of her, I've always felt like it was okay if I didn't become too 'grown-up.' As a young girl she decided she wanted to have 12 children. Remarkably she very nearly reached that goal, coming up 2 short. As a father of three, I'm astounded that she and my father were able to raise 10 fairly-respectable children. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Looking back, I realize that she often sacrificed what she wanted for what we needed. She was at home the whole time I was growing up. Some of my earliest memories are of her teaching me how to read as I sat on her lap. She was always available to make sure we learned life lessons. I remember riding by a church attended by those whose faith was different from mine and remarking that those people were wrong and bad, somehow thinking such a comment would elicit parental approval. Instead, she took the opportunity to condemn such a thought and explained to me that there were wonderful people everywhere--no matter what they believed. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She taught us how to work. </span><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When I was struggling to learn to complete a job well, she gave me the responsibility to do the dishes every night until I figured out how to do it well for a week straight. She laughs when she talks about it now, but it must have been so frustrating watching me get close, but ultimately fail for 2 years before her resolve finally broke. She's conceded to me that she felt like that was a parental failure, but oddly enough, the lesson sunk in. What can I say--I'm a slow learner.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I love my mother and respect her more all the time. She continues to be a source of strength to me in my life.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My mom and Eva in matching orange stripes</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nellie teaching the kids to write thank-you notes</td></tr>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the year since last Mother's Day I have watched the mother of my own children with increased appreciation. Nellie has always been a wonderful mother. When we added Scott to our family she became an instant mother. She was wonderful from the start. Intuitively she knew how to comfort and teach. As our family added Eva and then Eleanor, her capacity has only increased. She is the one the kids all prefer. Our family has one momma's boy and two momma's girls. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Last August when Eva ended up at Primary Children's Medical Center, I witnessed what a wonderful mother she really is. She was up in Washington state visiting her grandma. Despite my protests that she couldn't do anything by coming home early, she was on the first plane home. It wasn't until she arrived early in the morning and climbed into bed with our daughter that things really began to get better. The whole time Eva was in the hospital she was there for every need and never complained. When Eva recorded her own narrative of what she'd been through the bullet were: 1) I got sick, 2) I went to the hospital, 3) Mom came, 4)Everything is better. There was no mention of me taking her from Instacare, to hospital, to ER, to ER, to PCMC, it was simply: mom came and everything was better. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Nellie helps our children to understand and complete their homework, she ensures they are reading and learning and realizing their potential. She is the spiritual giant in our home and teaches the gospel through her goodness. Our children have the opportunity to learn charity by example. She is patient as the day-is-long and is okay with the mess our kids make as they embark on creating another artistic masterpiece. She is the rock of our home. When she had surgery recently and was required to be in bed the better part of two weeks our family felt her absence. If it wasn't for others who stepped in to fill the void, we would have been in big trouble. Seeing life without her being able to complete her day-to-day routine helped me to more fully appreciate her contribution to our family life.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Apart from my mother and my wife, there are many more mothers in my life. I have a wonderful mother-in-law and countless family members. Our children have created an amazing network of adopted "grandmas" and "aunts" in their lives and they are each mothers to our family. These wonderful women are always there supporting us and providing strength, comfort, and love. I am truly humbled by their presence in our lives. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As I celebrate the mothers in my life this Mother's Day, these are some of my thoughts. I could probably write a lot more, but who'd want to read that? I think this video sums motherhood up wonderfully. </span><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14212300609596680037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643768655288076389.post-63458878585387022442014-01-26T21:45:00.002-08:002014-01-26T21:59:57.856-08:00I Love Funerals<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Years ago I saw a bumper sticker in a novelty shop that read "Put the fun back in funeral." I'm happy to report that teenaged Trevor wasn't even tempted to purchase it. It seemed insensitive and off-putting. Even as a young person who hadn't yet fully developed this thing called "tact" (some would argue I still lack it in large measure), I knew that others could potentially be offended by the presence of such a sticker if they saw it at the wrong time. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I know people who hate funerals. People who would not attend the funeral of someone they really loved because it's too sad or too weird. I have friends who won't even enter a building where they know a dead body to be, casket or not. I have also attended some really sad and depressing memorial services. There are many people who would think me odd, but I love<i> </i>funerals. Really, I <i>love</i> funerals.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I've been to many funerals in my day. The first funeral I really have vivid memories of having attended was for a great mentor of mine who served as the president of the young mens organization in my local church. He had moved away the previous year and had perished in an airplane crash near Malad, Idaho. I had just turned 15 and was grief-stricken that this man who I had looked up to so much was taken in the prime of his life. After having waited in a long line to greet his young widow I sobbed trying to tell her how much I'd loved her husband. Later, slightly more composed I listened and learned more about one of my heroes in one hour than I had gathered in several years of interactions with him. Bruce Keyes had been a gifted athlete who played football for BYU. He had served a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and was a wonderful example for the many people he served with. I learned of special ways he had served and loved and cared for others. Only a few brief sentences were spoken about his service with our young mens group and I realized everything he had done for us was a minute representation of the love and devotion he had given his entire life. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As a fifteen year-old boy I experienced for the first time the joy of a funeral. I did not leave forlorn and depressed. I left that service inspired. I decided that the best way to honor this mentor was for me to try my best to be as good a man as he was. Later, as I served a mission to England, I tried to serve my companions in the way I had heard Bruce had served his companions. Much later, when I had the opportunity to serve as a young mens president in my local church I tried to show that same love to the young men I served.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My maternal grandmother passed away when I was a senior in high school. I attended her funeral the morning after our all-night high school graduation party. I was tired and miserable as I walked into the church for the proceedings but managed to stay awake as I, once again, learned much more about my wonderful grandmother than I had ever known. Norma Larsen was the mother of eight children and was widowed when my mom, the third youngest, was 10 years old. She never remarried and finished raising my mom and her siblings on her own. She was incredibly bright and was a meticulous journal writer and record keeper. She was awarded the 'Utah Mother of the Year' award in 1980 and had kept her family close together as an inspired matriarch. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Grandma and Grandpa Larsen</td></tr>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I had known my grandma as she had aged and began to lose her memory. She had lived with us for six months when she got to the point that she couldn't tell the difference between my brothers and I. I had not fully appreciated the life of fortitude, devotion, love, service and sacrifice she had lived. As I learned more about her inspiring, selfless life I determined that it was incumbent upon me as her grandson to try to follow her example and to live up to the Larsen side of my heritage. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As the years have advanced I've had the opportunity to attend funerals for close friends and for some I did not know too well. Almost without exception I have left the service feeling uplifted, feeling a desire to do better with the time allotted me on the earth. I've learned that every person had struggles and trials that I had known nothing about. They handled them with grace and courage, and I'm certain I would not have been able to do so. I've been taught about life and about how I should live. Even in the most heart-wrenching of circumstances when my soul felt sympathy pains that were hard to bear, I have learned, been inspired, been warned and instructed in how to live a better life. I have been taught how to be a better man, a better husband, a better father, a better friend. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Certainly, my religious beliefs have sustained me and allowed me to find joy in what would otherwise be completely tragic circumstances. Knowing that death is not the end of ones existence but a step into another realm where we will one day meet again, helps to keep death in perspective. Believing that Jesus Christ has made possible the reunion of our spirits and our bodies at some future point allows me to see death as a temporary goodbye. This does not mean that I do not grieve for the loss of another, particularly one removed from this earth in the prime of life. It is always difficult to lose someone who hasn't lived what I'd consider to be a full life, and it's heart-breaking to see a father or mother leave behind children who are not yet grown. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Yesterday I attended the funeral of a high school cross country teammate. We were on the team that had won the 1998 cross country national championship at Mountain View High School. I was inspired to see our old team come together to honor one of our own. We had friends who came from Texas, Colorado, Idaho, and from different corners of the state. As I listened to the speakers talk about the life of Mark Schofield I teared up multiple times. Here was a young father who left behind a wife and 5 children. His youngest is only 3 months old, his oldest just barely 8. As I learned more about his life I regretted that I had not spent more time with this great man. I was inspired as I heard stories of the patience and love that he had shown to others. Most of all, I left his funeral determined to be a more loyal friend, a better listener, and a harder worker- to try to emulate the best qualities of my friend. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Friend Mark Schofield</td></tr>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I hope that one day I have the opportunity to meet with the son of my mentor Bruce Keyes, or to run into the grown children of Mark Schofield. I would love to take the time to let them know what amazing men there fathers were. I want to be another witness to them of the great men that had gone before them. I would want to inspire them to be better people because of the example their fathers were to me. I do have the opportunity to teach my children about those who have gone before me and who have taught me so much from their lives example. Sometimes we read stories from one of the books my Grandma Larsen authored about Heavenly Father's hand in our lives. Other times I have shared stories about those who I have not met that inspired my parents who, in turn, inspired me. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There you have it. I love funerals because they give me an opportunity to learn about those who are no longer with us. I love them because they leave me wanting to be a better person. I love them because everyone is magnificent in some way and it's never too late to be inspired by a life of goodness. </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14212300609596680037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643768655288076389.post-67608735531914907602013-12-02T23:16:00.003-08:002013-12-02T23:16:38.297-08:00Our Steampunk Chandelier<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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A few months back Nellie and I had dinner up at Grappa in Park City. In the entryway of Grappa is a chandelier that I think is beautiful --it was love at first sight. It looks like a rusty planter with two hoops at the bottom with light bulbs extending out horizontally. As I didn't have the foresight to take a picture, I've borrowed a picture someone else took of it. It wasn't long until we started to think about how we could reproduce elements of the Grappa chandelier into one that would fit the scale of our home.<br />
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We decided it would be best to start with a rusty wagon wheel. We asked our favorite antique dealer (my mom) if she knew of any rusty wheels and it just so happened that she had a couple that she was kind enough to sell us at a great deal. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before:</td></tr>
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It made sense to use the smaller wheel for our dining area. One day when Nellie was out of town I started to work on the fixture. It was a challenge for me because I've never really done much with metal, nor have I ever wired a light etc. </div>
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I began by drilling six 1/2" holes that we could at least run the wire through. </div>
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Once the holes were drilled, I ran my brown lamp wire through the holes and attached the lamp sockets outside the wheel. Instead of hanging the chandelier with chain we decided to mirror the Grappa chandelier and hang it by a bar. This is a white painted steel bar that is sold for use in closets to hold hangers. As you can see in the picture I used liberal zip-ties to hold everything in place for the rough draft. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7sd4Q4QilqLJhEFi7ddzwRLPiapHHyuDacxbNEybF4-5wVABREZCHmIW-6UOcmb-PZIFSLYQCc-PKj9skZwINPtTv-t9uffIpX4bYyNgTC8MIEEuABYp34DxrBMn2Lss6xwBmjqUl1Ik/s1600/IMG_2322.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7sd4Q4QilqLJhEFi7ddzwRLPiapHHyuDacxbNEybF4-5wVABREZCHmIW-6UOcmb-PZIFSLYQCc-PKj9skZwINPtTv-t9uffIpX4bYyNgTC8MIEEuABYp34DxrBMn2Lss6xwBmjqUl1Ik/s400/IMG_2322.JPG" width="298" /></a></div>
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One of the biggest challenges was deciding how to hang the fixture itself. It is fairly heavy and I wasn't sure how to harness it into the ceiling. When we'd installed a ceiling fan a number of years back, I had installed a brace for the ceiling fan and decided to use the same support. I drilled a hold through the top of the pipe, about 1/2" from the end and used a screw to hold it into the harness above. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ7osqPlMjwROTnq36mdn2dxrnpmsHUhEzIRmrFAAjgQ1Iddvg7yy-8yuk0ImNZSbdQ1HjbhS38L1RKId7MJBCNQFWoo4Ox7jYgIL2ZHBvfWtHJM6-qP_7fDZbKuSjLSahVUY6QPvOnwI/s1600/IMG_2327.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ7osqPlMjwROTnq36mdn2dxrnpmsHUhEzIRmrFAAjgQ1Iddvg7yy-8yuk0ImNZSbdQ1HjbhS38L1RKId7MJBCNQFWoo4Ox7jYgIL2ZHBvfWtHJM6-qP_7fDZbKuSjLSahVUY6QPvOnwI/s400/IMG_2327.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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The rough draft was bright and kind of ugly, but it was a start. One of the challenges was going to be figuring out how to get holes large enough for the lamps to fit inside of the rim. Nellie and I didn't really like the drooping nature of the lamps as composed. Also, the white pole needed to be replaced with a rusted one, as did the bright bolt holding the pole in at the bottom. </div>
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After concluding the 1/2" holes would need to be 1 3/8" I set about trying to find solutions. I first picked up a step bit that went up to 1 3/8", but that didn't end well. After fishing for solutions on Facebook, I found one of my friends already had the ability and willingness to drill the holes larger for me. He wouldn't accept any payment from me which was kind, but made me feel a little bad. In no time at all, he had the holes looking perfect.</div>
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After re-wiring the lamps in again, the next step was to flash rust the pole. After scraping and sanding the white paint off, I sprayed vinegar on the pole and watched it rush before my eyes. </div>
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The next day it had enough of a rust look to it we were ready to hang it again.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5_n_8nK5a4_eDasadwgVsw7pXYXjX6V6NfQVW4tkKszor5SUEpG6S55qsv5l29nhJV7SW1Vb5dcGPV5L0TI38FFy6PTyTai-8BEmAdoVfNwpFbfAMldVYv9r3axvy4gJ3MqkzU7N_4yc/s1600/IMG_2394.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5_n_8nK5a4_eDasadwgVsw7pXYXjX6V6NfQVW4tkKszor5SUEpG6S55qsv5l29nhJV7SW1Vb5dcGPV5L0TI38FFy6PTyTai-8BEmAdoVfNwpFbfAMldVYv9r3axvy4gJ3MqkzU7N_4yc/s400/IMG_2394.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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I bought some bailing wire to wrap a few spots that I wanted to secure (I thought it would be more of a fit than the zip ties). The final, most important step was the right light bulbs. We really love the Edison style bulbs, but don't really love the price most local places charge. We found a great source for our bulbs and ordered a good supply of them from <a href="http://1000bulbs.com/">1000bulbs.com</a>. When they came Saturday, we were so excited to finish off our chandelier. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifQeQSzISjlQoNV7lvjzID9BFWFUH57-Qypg9KWssg1Bs45DrL31XjYtnYs1EbXhjOt1THuEubVEM4PF2GE9Xivbi_9IwRpuO5bsNcSiaPWVHMnw_2_VJhY1r-fVnVa6aKUekMOI9Jh9s/s1600/chandelier2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifQeQSzISjlQoNV7lvjzID9BFWFUH57-Qypg9KWssg1Bs45DrL31XjYtnYs1EbXhjOt1THuEubVEM4PF2GE9Xivbi_9IwRpuO5bsNcSiaPWVHMnw_2_VJhY1r-fVnVa6aKUekMOI9Jh9s/s400/chandelier2.jpg" width="317" /></a></div>
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I am well aware that rust and wagon wheel and old looking light bulbs are not everyones style. I love it in our house. I feel like our home is eclectic enough that it fits in great with everything else.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14212300609596680037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643768655288076389.post-57394544674283655172013-11-28T22:21:00.001-08:002013-11-29T13:04:33.437-08:00Family Pictures<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I wasn't planning on having family pictures today. While running out the door to go Thanksgiving dinner, I grabbed my camera on a whim, thinking I might want it. My kids were all wearing clean clothes and had their hair fixed, which is an event even unto itself, so when we got to MammaGrandpa's house (as Birdie calls it), I thought I'd snap a few of the kids. Becca came out to help me with the arm-waggling, funny sound making, attention-getting part (thank you Becca). It went very well and super fast, so as an after thought, Trev and I jumped in the shot to see if we could get one of us all together. Becca obliged, and snapped a bunch. The whole process took maybe 10-15 minutes, and I was rather pleased with what we got. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim-UvA2cVRRgCtwt_SXmbEK_1z_66P80NIoeOBgF6DFmwuNDSPzcIdzd37hDmbhTOB3zNTe0fCA2KcyuGmQ6At75u5Cq_-6T4VkLcGBsKipFRAHmrrjSWsyF9wEMAc6_06lqH8FhZrkNjX/s1600/Thank13.01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim-UvA2cVRRgCtwt_SXmbEK_1z_66P80NIoeOBgF6DFmwuNDSPzcIdzd37hDmbhTOB3zNTe0fCA2KcyuGmQ6At75u5Cq_-6T4VkLcGBsKipFRAHmrrjSWsyF9wEMAc6_06lqH8FhZrkNjX/s400/Thank13.01.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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I didn't coordinate or plan any of our outfits, I didn't hunt for weeks for the perfect accessory or shirt; it's just a picture of my family wearing what we happened to be wearing. I love them. I especially love how non-stressful a production it was in comparison to any other time we have tried to take family pictures. <br />
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Now, hold on CFA, (that's Control Freaks of America), don't kick me out of the club just yet. I certainly still have my issues. Had this been a real planned family picture, you can bet that nary a hair would be out of place (especially Trev's pesky ones...haha...kidding honey). I'd have the perfect pops of colors strategically placed based on predetermined posing. My eyes would reflect the crazy frantic desperation of a mom wanting each smile and tilt of the head to be on cue. And of course my children would be far less cooperative, as is there job when they can sense that something is really important. :) All I'm saying, dear CFA, of which I am a card-carrying member, it was nice for such a serendipitous occasion to present itself without the frazzled mom as a bi-product. </div>
janelle perkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796604357588375744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643768655288076389.post-88226938301169962502013-11-08T09:09:00.002-08:002013-11-08T09:09:34.081-08:00You Can't Handle The Truth! NFL Version<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One of my buddies from high school commented last night that the situation with Richie Incognito and Johnathan Martin (<a href="http://espn.go.com/nfl/story/_/id/9943626/lawyer-david-cornwell-says-jonathan-martin-endured-harassment-taunting">background story here</a>) was beginning to seem like an NFL version of "A Few Good Men." With some prompting he took the famous courtroom scene and adapted it to the Dolphins' situation. I've posted it below for your enjoyment. It's one of the funniest things I've read in a long time:</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Cast:<br />Coach Joe Philbin: Miami Dolphins' Head Coach<br />Ted Wells: Lawyer who is leading NFL probe into hazing<br />Roger Goodell: NFL commissioner </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.333333969116211px; line-height: 18.88888931274414px;">Philbin: “Sometimes players take matters into their own hands.”</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.333333969116211px; line-height: 18.88888931274414px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.333333969116211px; line-height: 18.88888931274414px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.333333969116211px; line-height: 18.88888931274414px;">Wells: “No sir. You made it clear just a moment ago that your players never take matters into their own hands. Your players follow orders or Tannehill gets sacked. So Martin shouldn’t have been in any danger at all, should he have, Coach?</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; font-size: 13.333333969116211px; line-height: 18.88888931274414px;"><br /><br />Philbin: “You little $%&*@$%.”<br /><br />Cornell: “Commissioner, I have to ask for a recess to…”<br /><br />Wells: “I’d like an answer to the question, Commissioner.”<br /><br />Goodell: “The league will wait for an answer.”<br /><br />Wells: “If Sherman Turner told his O-line that Martin wasn’t to be hazed, then why did he have to be traded?”<br /><br />Coach?<br /><br />Sherman ordered the hazing, didn’t he? Because that’s what you told Sherman to do!”<br /><br />Cornell: Object!<br /><br />Goodell: Counsel!<br /><br />Wells: And when it went bad, you cut Incognito loose!<br /><br />Goodell: That’ll be all, Counsel!<br /><br />Wells: You had Turner sign a phony trade order, you doctored the roster…<br /><br />Philbin: You want answers?<br /><br />Wells: I think I’m entitled to them.<br /><br />Philbin: You want answers?!<br /><br />Wells: I WANT THE TRUTH!<br /><br />Philbin: YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE TRUTH!<br /><br />Philibin: Son, we live in a league that has quarterbacks. And those quarterbacks have to be guarded by men with cojones. Whose gonna do it? You? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for Martin and you curse the Dolphins. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: That Martin’s departure, while tragic, probably saved quarterbacks. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves quarterbacks.<br /><br />You don’t want the truth. Because deep down, in places you don’t talk about in your Fantasy Football League, you want me on that sideline. You NEED me on that sideline. We use words like hut, hut, and hike. You use them as a punchline during your turkey bowl.<br /><br />I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps mesmerized by the football I provide, then questions the manner in which I provide it. I’d prefer you just cheered for us, ate your nachos, and went on your way. Otherwise I suggest you put on some pads and hit the line of scrimmage. Either way, I don’t give a $%&* what you think you’re entitled to!<br /><br />Wells: Did you haze Jonathan Martin?!<br /><br />Philbin: I did the job Ross hired me to do.<br /><br />Wells: DID YOU HAZE JONATHAN MARTIN!?!?<br /><br />Philbin: “YOU’RE %^&$*(& RIGHT I DID!!!</span></b></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; font-size: 13.333333969116211px; line-height: 18.88888931274414px;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; font-size: 13.333333969116211px; line-height: 18.88888931274414px;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Author: Steve Olson, one of the best and brightest. </span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14212300609596680037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643768655288076389.post-19562136494030858232013-11-05T20:39:00.003-08:002013-11-05T20:39:28.145-08:00Tubby Tuesday: Melanies Gourmet Culinary Kitchen
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In honor of Guy Fawkes Day, for Tubby Tuesday we are going to go a little off the
conventional path. Today I'd like to introduce you to <span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/MelaniesGourmetCulinaryKitchen">Melanie's Gourmet Culinary Kitchen</a></span><span id="goog_1114967047"></span><span id="goog_1114967048"></span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/"></a>. As
someone who loves the British people, I have certain cravings that are hard to
meet in the USA. Some items, like English chocolate and custard are
relatively easy to find. Other items, like baked goods are much harder to
find. <br />
For years, Melanie owned a little shop on Main Street in Pleasant Grove.
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It was not a large shop, but there were many delightful treats to be
found. Having a British import store half a mile from my home was heaven.
Alas, one day I drove by to see the shop was closed. <br />
Happily, through a Facebook post from a friend, I learned that Melanie had
opened up another shop that is cleverly disguised as an awning store at <span style="background: white;">587 W State St, Pleasant Grove. When I went in,
I found many of the items from her previous store that I had missed, but
happily I found that she had expanded her fare to include baked goods like Cornish
pasties, scones, and SAUSAGE ROLLS! I love a good sausage roll, so I was
pretty excited to find they are every bit as good as any sausage roll I have
tried. <br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Melanie also has a cooking demonstration area upstairs in her store.
For my birthday Janelle took me to one of her cooking classes. A
chef named Scott Weber who was a lot of fun to learn from teaches the class.
For our date night we learned how to make a curry couscous salad, a pork
curry, and curry funnel cakes. It was one of the most fun date nights we
have done in a long time! </span><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYRqiVntHSCYjdUd9Djc5vH8FrNgWLu7L15YYpMqpi28dZhw8Zrx2pYnZiACzpAKoziKkxfk-7fhTRDmikeLrFtQeux94RYGjLqFCEdl5yRfMezfN86Jj9jNsd8z3I2UV4sqJHeqYVUsM/s1600/kitchen-back-wall-small.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYRqiVntHSCYjdUd9Djc5vH8FrNgWLu7L15YYpMqpi28dZhw8Zrx2pYnZiACzpAKoziKkxfk-7fhTRDmikeLrFtQeux94RYGjLqFCEdl5yRfMezfN86Jj9jNsd8z3I2UV4sqJHeqYVUsM/s400/kitchen-back-wall-small.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Melanie's Kitchen</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGrnfvYKvggxKEg3NAVccoZ9iCSxbvcCEMYkjlrf8WoKNPkGXb3wbPW4prroGUCn-HxvlDWrFdky_yDweWclMKHTf2rr6GHf1tLjx2lP7cCKoJ2DeNCzaqVy809Nfc1xopIhvfkI6yP5o/s1600/8A517AA4-FC26-4369-9177-A913F1D668F2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGrnfvYKvggxKEg3NAVccoZ9iCSxbvcCEMYkjlrf8WoKNPkGXb3wbPW4prroGUCn-HxvlDWrFdky_yDweWclMKHTf2rr6GHf1tLjx2lP7cCKoJ2DeNCzaqVy809Nfc1xopIhvfkI6yP5o/s400/8A517AA4-FC26-4369-9177-A913F1D668F2.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Station Set Up</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDJKMA_3Wec7_zYzem87iQuto40VnBre9K22lUYP_wv9ixS1xdLtZKnHoaQbeUy1Py9ezuT3RaY5cbZJ5RAYSIO5PsoxO3vz7Ylwc7N2QGJ8qqxMnpMIwVK3Ye15_9qdC3p0Ggh8EQLU8/s1600/F70855A5-82C5-488D-B759-A75B2F231755.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDJKMA_3Wec7_zYzem87iQuto40VnBre9K22lUYP_wv9ixS1xdLtZKnHoaQbeUy1Py9ezuT3RaY5cbZJ5RAYSIO5PsoxO3vz7Ylwc7N2QGJ8qqxMnpMIwVK3Ye15_9qdC3p0Ggh8EQLU8/s400/F70855A5-82C5-488D-B759-A75B2F231755.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nellie and I Getting Ready To Cook!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBa7R2e6vaZShuIss6inS4owTMyZycdI-W2wM0e8ALn0vAVa5VtddX520U04dOEKkmHR1KMOGqlSXL6ChiDMdpLNCeC5EBUx19wnDjODVKN-FHnImGTEUzbxSGTSiGQarH5OcwIbdS8SI/s1600/06E05360-8008-48C0-92C1-359E3C31AFED.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBa7R2e6vaZShuIss6inS4owTMyZycdI-W2wM0e8ALn0vAVa5VtddX520U04dOEKkmHR1KMOGqlSXL6ChiDMdpLNCeC5EBUx19wnDjODVKN-FHnImGTEUzbxSGTSiGQarH5OcwIbdS8SI/s400/06E05360-8008-48C0-92C1-359E3C31AFED.JPG" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Curried Couscous Salad with Lemon Yoghurt Dressing</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgwCiS2LVyMAZzFPCg3nx467Cm1432BNcNeksHtFU9J5nO5GWbZQI_T32RyqHF53yCFuiS9pv1oR7Z4qucruuq9XqmO9g4nWC3fGwFZDCQgsDl_PTLYQfAJ5BrZCfD6kHhzqgU-PN7Tb0/s1600/E08EA6DB-9111-4777-A857-D78797554C2F.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgwCiS2LVyMAZzFPCg3nx467Cm1432BNcNeksHtFU9J5nO5GWbZQI_T32RyqHF53yCFuiS9pv1oR7Z4qucruuq9XqmO9g4nWC3fGwFZDCQgsDl_PTLYQfAJ5BrZCfD6kHhzqgU-PN7Tb0/s400/E08EA6DB-9111-4777-A857-D78797554C2F.JPG" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWcu0j4vBsUUN1kmljio4OGuJpdohyVocO6XP5Pz2EFj0WTgYLfSTp7W0saimMRdfIzDZo-92xHJ_OsU66amLsHP0-rYA6WkziVRb_adCYIaWetYRFOqROINfZeZrE3RZGur4we5rz174/s1600/EFA53391-3610-4D11-9D90-A7B466FAB1FE.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWcu0j4vBsUUN1kmljio4OGuJpdohyVocO6XP5Pz2EFj0WTgYLfSTp7W0saimMRdfIzDZo-92xHJ_OsU66amLsHP0-rYA6WkziVRb_adCYIaWetYRFOqROINfZeZrE3RZGur4we5rz174/s400/EFA53391-3610-4D11-9D90-A7B466FAB1FE.JPG" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Cutie Dishing Up Her Curry</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXtpod5ye4PS0UID-KMBow-TlUKgJr7LhRxCWBLyePVlewypxZzV_elP3PUNu-eJ5EHi9GIDOzgUN48sWXglcjstqByTG_q8MHyra1XwlwpARJ4zD1RXHKXsdm1ZvObXQl-UWJM7B-ZbY/s1600/3CC73701-B3F9-4AB5-9661-DCC358BC995C.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXtpod5ye4PS0UID-KMBow-TlUKgJr7LhRxCWBLyePVlewypxZzV_elP3PUNu-eJ5EHi9GIDOzgUN48sWXglcjstqByTG_q8MHyra1XwlwpARJ4zD1RXHKXsdm1ZvObXQl-UWJM7B-ZbY/s400/3CC73701-B3F9-4AB5-9661-DCC358BC995C.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Finished Product</td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14212300609596680037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643768655288076389.post-31173759725283326072013-11-01T20:21:00.001-07:002013-12-30T18:02:28.667-08:00Halloween: Jessie, Ariel, The Football Player, Gru and the Pretty Mom<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Halloween was a lot of fun. I'm not certain that it isn't one of my favorite holidays. It's not that I love decorating the house or carving pumpkins much, it's more that I love watching my children get excited about "spooky" things. I loved looking at the witch that Birdie made for our decorations that she spent a whole afternoon diligently working on. I love seeing the anticipation and planning that goes on as the family plans their costumes. Also, I love the excuse to act like a little kid myself. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lulu dressed up as Jessie the cowgirl from the Toy Story trilogy. She loves the movies at the moment and she was so darling. Nellie made the main part of the costume as an apron which was pure genius. It was easy to get on and off. The hat came from the Dallas International Airport from a gift shop. Oddly, it was cheaper than any hat at the Disney store, but was perfect for the costume. The boots are the real deal Jessie boots and Lulu loves them. Cutest cowgirl I've ever seen.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0-cAT_7D8gY7dTIY2uAFkgLPuuLwhDnNlMpJZuER6FBpB0caW6dI0FPruxvyI008yFc3XibAyprEc6l1vLeZen4_n6p4JLvdllVLJBOYJHdKgbIkQyLvAudRpldG7yopfMyIXRlcBEWQ/s1600/DSC_0082.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0-cAT_7D8gY7dTIY2uAFkgLPuuLwhDnNlMpJZuER6FBpB0caW6dI0FPruxvyI008yFc3XibAyprEc6l1vLeZen4_n6p4JLvdllVLJBOYJHdKgbIkQyLvAudRpldG7yopfMyIXRlcBEWQ/s400/DSC_0082.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Birdie dressed as Ariel, which she has done at least once before, but she loves the princesses so much. She was given the Ariel dress as a birthday present from Uncle Mike and Aunt Britt and was so excited to wear it for Halloween. In lieu of a wig, we used red hairspray with varied results. Like her momma, Birdie has some thick hair and we could probably have used 3 cans and not gotten full coverage. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhibDCjEoMvQW9uvMCCTb_isczpxbKRTEBq4F13mP_EAhzL4zcXGJQYQXWimkVmcOrnUZaZdJ0jypLbNuwl7lsl7JjfANp50SejGiKLOscm_Fk8uf_qegAWVl_7j4nAjTF1eblEZUFU__8/s1600/DSC_0090.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhibDCjEoMvQW9uvMCCTb_isczpxbKRTEBq4F13mP_EAhzL4zcXGJQYQXWimkVmcOrnUZaZdJ0jypLbNuwl7lsl7JjfANp50SejGiKLOscm_Fk8uf_qegAWVl_7j4nAjTF1eblEZUFU__8/s400/DSC_0090.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tut dressed up as a football player. Fairly generic costume, I know, but I was excited that he wanted to dress as a football player. I feel like that means the work I have gone to in order to help him enjoy football must be bearing some fruit. </span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I dressed as Gru from Despicable Me. We all love the movie and think it's one of the funniest "kid shows" ever. The biggest challenge to looking like Gru for a guy who already has a shaved head is his long, pointy nose. Nellie and I visited shops looking for a witch nose or the like, but ultimately ended up with a foam cone which I shaved and shaped to look Gru-ish and then covered in masking tape and used duct tape to stick to my face. </span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I got outfitted with some great evil super-villain accessories like a silly string "freeze ray" gun, a shrunken moon, some balloons that I made into balloon puppies and promptly popped, and a couple of minion mylar balloons from the grocery store. The costume and requisite accent and oddness were enough to win second place in my company contest. It was a lot of fun acting like Gru when our office opened up to the trick or treat portion of the day where are the employee's children come around for candy. There were even some kids who insisted on getting a picture with me. In the department of going completely over the top, Nellie was kind enough to make a fantastic replica of the book that Gru writes in the movie called "One Big Unicorn"</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifaT1Z6l_psphRaot_IB2OGw8V06LzHxRayGWgrtkDLN7ZEnQN7tmVbZ26d9xt5Uwanq-F3KcW5CLhUptb3lQslyH76vk7dA7GUMpUgKRhqKSx_Mwj5rd1oqOaob-F9OP4xVnV1lhRcz8/s1600/IMG_2232.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifaT1Z6l_psphRaot_IB2OGw8V06LzHxRayGWgrtkDLN7ZEnQN7tmVbZ26d9xt5Uwanq-F3KcW5CLhUptb3lQslyH76vk7dA7GUMpUgKRhqKSx_Mwj5rd1oqOaob-F9OP4xVnV1lhRcz8/s400/IMG_2232.JPG" width="298" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One Big Unicorn by: Gru</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7B6OpuvEAKydRmTaBUwTgmxzIXaGgeZMriXynO_2oKrzGLnbp0pZq6MRdgTMrhVOfT-_k1iE41rteH4O4jBzBuufRTdG79IBwwQpdhqLWp_ulJdRc_NjbbgwBI248XwbTybPktyioris/s1600/IMG_2233.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7B6OpuvEAKydRmTaBUwTgmxzIXaGgeZMriXynO_2oKrzGLnbp0pZq6MRdgTMrhVOfT-_k1iE41rteH4O4jBzBuufRTdG79IBwwQpdhqLWp_ulJdRc_NjbbgwBI248XwbTybPktyioris/s400/IMG_2233.JPG" width="298" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One big unicorn strong and free thought he was happy as he could be</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUhr0yL6u2cYV8yR0PFFeEs1NABHb8z__O07-xDPRimakicSNtIjdsXDp-gonZkTbtsmZxW8yc7R21voDwRGZNAx7fOys_0oyPK6ilivqVIfkGbnffsjTOLHiusvetkKfeLlIdOhWfcow/s1600/IMG_2234.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUhr0yL6u2cYV8yR0PFFeEs1NABHb8z__O07-xDPRimakicSNtIjdsXDp-gonZkTbtsmZxW8yc7R21voDwRGZNAx7fOys_0oyPK6ilivqVIfkGbnffsjTOLHiusvetkKfeLlIdOhWfcow/s400/IMG_2234.JPG" width="298" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then three little kittens came around and turned his whole life upside down!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXRdVxuIQhFoiW9clOuvE9g5Fqx3P27rpT9kK3hXfkGO7KN7NR_t9FZKY5-BGoYkzectd2U75MCMHb3tEVWuo6Zqjqc7UVek1HfmkHTzx0FlgF3iY8Dtbw37_w42foLQGlHLLZwSKITS0/s1600/IMG_2235.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXRdVxuIQhFoiW9clOuvE9g5Fqx3P27rpT9kK3hXfkGO7KN7NR_t9FZKY5-BGoYkzectd2U75MCMHb3tEVWuo6Zqjqc7UVek1HfmkHTzx0FlgF3iY8Dtbw37_w42foLQGlHLLZwSKITS0/s400/IMG_2235.JPG" width="298" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They made him laugh! They made him cry.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSeFPyLFvKhl0LgLEqiAplVKehZYviHEiP8Why5JcxoI3xRiNEC4qJXfjQRtuT6YnTAWsaObn4zxerahc62wdd4H9qiSrSzOnua-N9XK9W_zr94hozfkwm5uBNtlySLzvB-WxelvKLtUA/s1600/IMG_2236.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSeFPyLFvKhl0LgLEqiAplVKehZYviHEiP8Why5JcxoI3xRiNEC4qJXfjQRtuT6YnTAWsaObn4zxerahc62wdd4H9qiSrSzOnua-N9XK9W_zr94hozfkwm5uBNtlySLzvB-WxelvKLtUA/s400/IMG_2236.JPG" width="298" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He never should have said goodbye.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBVVqds5R9_VrcdKiEEDmXzVSbJpSrAHK0w67N6iVKFOZLQkaTHAYLHtDUfjtpKPG7K4gwJ4pWDZRTSy7D6hO90EcKpyynkpxj50GmScAohNAybXojoMwxJd3cH25EGfvZ4TUjDgEMyJc/s1600/IMG_2237.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBVVqds5R9_VrcdKiEEDmXzVSbJpSrAHK0w67N6iVKFOZLQkaTHAYLHtDUfjtpKPG7K4gwJ4pWDZRTSy7D6hO90EcKpyynkpxj50GmScAohNAybXojoMwxJd3cH25EGfvZ4TUjDgEMyJc/s400/IMG_2237.JPG" width="298" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And now he knows he could never part, from those three little kittens that changed his heart.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The book was the hit of the day! Most people who recognized it from the movie could not believe Nellie had made it. Somewhat par for the course for Nellie who even made illustrations for the last page in the book which we only hear and don't see on the movie. The past two nights I have read it as a bedtime story for our little girls and they love it also. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMMCbx7gfXhDv52MhsBq1E4H54qMNzHmAnRsclD-0kyJIIC7fcE5CfVdlQa25UTwVvszrCqmggeYtayeFxCVD6sShrk2niQMlGQHA0p2GKnnQjlrw8tQWuvl2gGnlFxxnUquLJ1UP7af0/s1600/DSC_0008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMMCbx7gfXhDv52MhsBq1E4H54qMNzHmAnRsclD-0kyJIIC7fcE5CfVdlQa25UTwVvszrCqmggeYtayeFxCVD6sShrk2niQMlGQHA0p2GKnnQjlrw8tQWuvl2gGnlFxxnUquLJ1UP7af0/s400/DSC_0008.JPG" width="267" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's a puppet book</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Nellie declined to dress up as anything other than what she normally is: a beautiful mom. She was great to haul the kids around and help out at school parties etc. She is really superwoman in everyday life, maybe it's nice to not dress up. </span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14212300609596680037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643768655288076389.post-81974718211965039622013-10-22T21:44:00.002-07:002013-10-22T22:09:16.738-07:00Tubby Tuesday: Milagros<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Welcome to another edition of Tubby Tuesday! It's been so much fun to share some places that we love to eat at--I take particular satisfaction when people actually have tried out the places we've recommended through ShareThePants. So far, we have received only positive feedback on the recommended restaurants and I expect it to continue for this weeks visit to a place of miracles, an aptly named Mexican restaurant called <a href="http://milagrosutah.com/">Milagros.</a> </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX8nwbC__KkPYYOFufNUHRTy0c6VNUxJ8o2-pY_TkPqXPeQ2wVZlnbCJ32mIN20SWLVdiCLf7MEgDm0qhJTHPbXMqgK1gmNhgyAMjT5wHhhL6NmVFktrds4dyErQVm_O8Uv61ZL7X6J4o/s1600/MilagrosOrem.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX8nwbC__KkPYYOFufNUHRTy0c6VNUxJ8o2-pY_TkPqXPeQ2wVZlnbCJ32mIN20SWLVdiCLf7MEgDm0qhJTHPbXMqgK1gmNhgyAMjT5wHhhL6NmVFktrds4dyErQVm_O8Uv61ZL7X6J4o/s640/MilagrosOrem.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Located in the heart of Utah valley, Milagros is a Mexican restaurant with a nice twist to it. It is located just above Winco on 800 North in Orem. The establishment has been full or nearly full every time we have visited (during both lunch and dinner hours), yet we have only had to wait to be seated once--so briefly I washed my hands and we were ready to go to our table (miracle, no?). </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://milagrosutah.com/milagros-orem-mexican-food-provo-who-we-are" target="_blank">Milagros has one of the most interesting back stories I've ever heard</a>. The owner is surprisingly willing to share his journey in a pretty unvarnished manner which is kind of refreshing. Once when we were at lunch, he visited our table and told us some of his experiences--he's a really nice guy. The long and short of it is: they started Rosa's first, Bajio second, helped to build the Harley Davidson dealership (the beautiful building off of 1600 N in Orem), and then started Milagros. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While I have enjoyed the other restaurants they've started, Milagros is a cut above. It's pretty clear they learned from earlier experiences and this feels like a masterpiece. On my first visit our waitress recommended the Queso Fundido as one of our appetizers. It no sooner arrived at the table then no other queso dip would ever truly do it for me again. Cheese + cream cheese + sour cream + chiles and spices + heaven (? my own recipe approximation)= queso fundido. I have never failed to order it upon returning. In fact, we have been known to make a run to Milagros solely for the queso fundido. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixaLhbJgeoTIPQLZ52AaQhlJJUFyvNZLcYnZrwZ-zExHlFn3dfe_veQUuC26MveqBE62N6Ix84-7tjiof2C9tEt9yMuCXRS27W813-6qZyoaNGC-H7zNPqVlOBAInuRF0CBQq46wv5TmA/s1600/Milagros-Ribs-1000x315.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixaLhbJgeoTIPQLZ52AaQhlJJUFyvNZLcYnZrwZ-zExHlFn3dfe_veQUuC26MveqBE62N6Ix84-7tjiof2C9tEt9yMuCXRS27W813-6qZyoaNGC-H7zNPqVlOBAInuRF0CBQq46wv5TmA/s640/Milagros-Ribs-1000x315.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Best Ribs I've Ever Tasted </span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Milagros also has the best ribs I have ever tasted! I know what you're thinking: "ribs? at a mexican restaurant?" but they totally work with the menu and sides. These ribs are AMAZING; they are marinated for 2 days in fruit juice, and then roasted for 8 hours. T</span><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">hen when you order them they are sauced up and grilled. They come in two varieties: honey bbq or spicy jalapeno bbq sauce (isn't it unnecessary to call a jalapeno sauce spicy?) and both are delicious. The spicy jalapeno ribs are maybe a bit hot for anyone that is overly sensitive to spice. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Another dish that I love is Barry's Pollo Fundido (anyone wanna take a wild stab as to why?). It is basically a huge chicken burrito/chimichanga covered with ample amounts of queso fundido (did you guess correctly? If you did, give yourself a whole Tubby Tuesday point!). The hardest part about eating at Milagros for me is deciding whether to get the ribs or the pollo fundido.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5CUuwHUdy4JyQi51QYlolgiQg_CPCUlZF_DuZC5nyaSTWQ4mM_VozBlDUAvuZOQfZfQiF2mBTcIezxiD38XlSi9OTN6WIHn6g5Fn4ilnBYEzFQi3jMG3ypMBjNVqwSUsTx9jzXEv0ONM/s1600/queso.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="507" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5CUuwHUdy4JyQi51QYlolgiQg_CPCUlZF_DuZC5nyaSTWQ4mM_VozBlDUAvuZOQfZfQiF2mBTcIezxiD38XlSi9OTN6WIHn6g5Fn4ilnBYEzFQi3jMG3ypMBjNVqwSUsTx9jzXEv0ONM/s640/queso.jpeg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The sides are also great. One of Nellie and I's favorite parts of Bajio was their sweet onion that you could have added to your order. At Milagros they have taken the onion to a whole new level. Instead of a few sections of onion, you can get a whole sweet onion deliciously caramelized and ready to dig into. Knowing that onions don't float everyone's boat, I can't say you must try one, but be open to it, even if you don't like onions--otherwise you will never know for sure. It would be a shame to not just try. The borracho beans are also a great choice. They are basically fancy baked beans. I think they taste pretty good. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While I already loved Milagros from my first visit, my respect grew when they sat us by the window to the kitchen. Inside the kitchen is a cool old table where the elite diners get to sit (more on this later). Above the stove, out of most customers' sight, runs a long shelf that contains some really great BYU memorabilia. It always makes me happy to see things like that. I love that it isn't really out for display in the restaurant, but something you have to look for. On my last visit I found out that my favorite college football coach catches some meals at the VIP table on occasion. I think Bronco has great taste!</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Milagros is a Coke restaurant which is always a plus in Nellie and I's book. Honestly my only complaint about Milagros is that they aren't open late enough. I hear they may be open later, but last time I checked the closing time was about 9:00 pm, which is just a little early for us sometimes. Overall I would implore you to visit Milagros, because Tubby Tuesday is all about making you happier one bite at a time. Enjoy!</span></div>
<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/54/1569087/restaurant/Salt-Lake-City/Milagros-Mexican-Restaurant-Orem"><img alt="Milagros Mexican Restaurant on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1569087/minilink.gif" style="border: none; height: 36px; width: 130px;" /></a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14212300609596680037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643768655288076389.post-10940292885965068182013-10-15T19:05:00.002-07:002013-10-15T19:05:47.040-07:00Tubby Tuesday: Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory DIY: Fail<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
by Nell.<br />
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One of my all-time favorite flavor combination is caramel/apple. Fall seems to be the "popular" season for enjoying these two together, and I see it in all kinds of candy, breads, drinks, and recently in a fabulous shake I had at Steak 'n Shake. Yummers. While cruising the grocery store the other day, I had a hankering for one of my favorite treats, the grasshopper carmel apple from Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory. Alas, it no longer exists. For some reason they told us last time we went in for one that they weren't allowed to make them any more. Total bummer. But I saw the giant bin of wrapped caramels at the grocery store and I thought, "Dude, I could make one. It can't be that hard."<br />
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It took Trev and the kids a good chunk of time unwrapping all those caramels. Why don't they just sell them unwrapped? We melted it on the stove, and despite the high heat of the caramel, it didn't really "dip" on smooth, the way I envisioned. More like gobbledy gook. I decided not to worry too much--once I dipped it in chocolate, I was sure it would all smooth out. Ha ha ha...the melted chocolate only emphasized the caramel bumps and lumps. I was trying to think fast. How could I save these ugly things? I decided to mash up some oreos and sprinkle them on the chocolate. That surely would mask my mistakes. But all the oreos did was drip and drag the chocolate down the apple, causing it to pool at the base. The ugliness was increasing exponentially by the second. <br />
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In a last ditch effort to save the apples' aesthetics, I thought of a technique I've seen where you drizzle chocolate over the top, kind of like this:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnhMpKcfvtbiGUI5rmmXs8EXsZB4v9jQz_GN4_k6CcKcLjNnZti1wkvqD_F5yCkA4QTzqK_tfVYutAr5TodP8wV2xvjs5aU0JXf0mlSpyXNKI3TTg7UXvLWoyy9smGP3WydwkAAB-kd_Wm/s1600/apples.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnhMpKcfvtbiGUI5rmmXs8EXsZB4v9jQz_GN4_k6CcKcLjNnZti1wkvqD_F5yCkA4QTzqK_tfVYutAr5TodP8wV2xvjs5aU0JXf0mlSpyXNKI3TTg7UXvLWoyy9smGP3WydwkAAB-kd_Wm/s400/apples.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I found this image on Pinterest, but it had no origin or information so I couldn't credit the photographer.</td></tr>
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This is how we ended up:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMdtlQViLA2jUUX6CHznREgQIpJGDfKPKeNjWhpcLRRKPIQ2aX9w_L5GwA7Ucs8-3e31kaJquS4tBO4INKnDHXJGvTP3YfqDshC9atmkKuCY55U1oC1AseudkVYi_-xvww74SD-_uI7nyA/s1600/10-15-13.apples004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMdtlQViLA2jUUX6CHznREgQIpJGDfKPKeNjWhpcLRRKPIQ2aX9w_L5GwA7Ucs8-3e31kaJquS4tBO4INKnDHXJGvTP3YfqDshC9atmkKuCY55U1oC1AseudkVYi_-xvww74SD-_uI7nyA/s640/10-15-13.apples004.jpg" width="428" /></a></div>
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So kind of like the same thing, right? ;) I give it a D+ for presentation. <br />
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Undeterred from their appearance, the kids were excited to try them anyway. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scott opted for the "Apple-Free" version</td></tr>
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As Birdie sat at the table making nummy-noises, she sighed and said, "These taste just like those one apples you used to love." <br />
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I smiled to myself. <strike>Fail.</strike></div>
janelle perkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796604357588375744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643768655288076389.post-44799351198450975642013-10-14T12:37:00.003-07:002013-10-14T12:37:51.535-07:00Framable Wall Art<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
By Nell.<br />
Eva presented us with this today. Once we deciphered her 1st grade language, we laughed so hard.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I love everyone but Satan and Hannah Montana"</td></tr>
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janelle perkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796604357588375744noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643768655288076389.post-45259248092512871452013-10-09T16:16:00.003-07:002013-10-09T16:16:42.283-07:00BettyBy Nell. When Eva was an itty bit, I made her a doll we named "Lottie" which was short for "LaDiabla," Eva's angry alter-ego. Her 2-year-old self loved that doll to death, and carted her around everywhere in her favorite pink boots--usually with a pair of tattered wings. Lulu wears those same pink boots, now cracked and holey, everywhere. Recently she has latched on to Lottie and drags her around, which if Eva sees, raises holy heck in the house. I decided this week that Lulu needs her own Lottie, and since it's her 3rd birthday on Saturday, I figured the timing was perfect. I named her doll Betty because I love that name, and it's on Trev's "heck no" list for girl names. Lu loves loves loves her. I gave her to Lulu this morning and she was jumping up and down in excitement. She caressed her hair and said, "Betty has puppy dog hair too!" which is how she has her hair done most days. We had several errands to do this morning, and Betty came along too. I loved catching a glimpse out of the corner of my eye of Lu adoring her and kissing her. It makes the time involved worth every minute. There's nothing better than having something you made be loved. Moments like these make me feel fulfilled and content and happy with my chosen full-time job of motherhood. <br />
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janelle perkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796604357588375744noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643768655288076389.post-72219275848494694232013-10-07T21:17:00.000-07:002013-10-07T21:21:26.263-07:00Tubby Tuesday: The Pie Pizzeria<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Welcome to Tubby Tuesday where I introduce to you my favorite places to eat around the Wasatch Front. Today marks the concluding entry in my best pizza trifecta. As I have mentioned in other posts regarding pizza, I am always in the mood for pizza. I love pizza and have immensely enjoyed eating pizza at different establishments around Utah. Two weeks ago I wrote about <a href="http://sharethepants.blogspot.com/2013/09/tubby-tuesday-este-pizzeria.html" target="_blank">ESTE Pizzeria</a> which offers, in my opinion, the best New York style pizza around. Last week I wrote about <a href="http://sharethepants.blogspot.com/2013/10/tubby-tuesday-sweet-home-chicago.html" target="_blank">Sweet Home Chicago Pizzeria</a> which has a wonderful stuffed pizza. Today we are visiting the place I prefer above all others: <a href="http://www.thepie.com/" target="_blank">The Pie Pizzeria</a>. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">First of all, I'll admit that it's odd for me to love The Pie as much as I do. Primarily because the original restaurant location is a mere number of steps away from the University of Utah campus. Although my parents met as students at the U, <a href="http://sharethepants.blogspot.com/2013/09/how-i-became-byu-fan.html" target="_blank">I'm not the biggest Ute fan there is</a>. My first visit to The Pie was several years ago. Located underground in a Cheers-like setting, it feels like stepping into another world. The original location has brick walls that are covered in names, words, micro-graffiti and the effect is really awesome. It's a decent sized restaurant and it's been pretty busy every time I have been there. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Wall at The Pie</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A visit to The Pie at the wrong time can bring a long line to wait in, but they have always been fairly quick even when the crowd has been large. The first recommendation I have is to order the cheese pull-aparts. Filled to the gill inside with mozzarella cheese, there is ample stretching as you try to pull a piece off to devour. Very simply made, they are the perfect appetizer to prepare you for some amazing pizza. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Cheese Pull-a-parts...Delish</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The pizza at The Pie is very filling. I have never completed a pizza at the restaurant unless we were in a large party. When Nellie and I go, we are lucky to finish four or five pieces between us. This is because the pies are loaded with toppings, cheese, and are plenty greasy. Although the load of grease might make you feel guilty, the pizzas taste wonderful. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Their pepperoni pizza is simple: pepperoni hidden underneath ample cheese. It is also one of my favorite pizzas around. My favorite pizza at The Pie is the buffalo chicken pizza. I have had buffalo chicken pizza from quite a few establishments and have never found one to rival The Pie's version. Loaded with sliced chicken and buffalo sauce, covered in mozzarella cheese and topped with onions it's the perfect marriage of my two favorite football foods: pizza and wings. I'm pretty sure I could eat this pizza all the time and never get tired of it. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Buffalo Chicken Pizza. You May Never Look at Pizza the Same Way Again</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If you really want to have an adventure you have to try the ApocolyptDough for your pizza crust. Mixed into the crust is a blend of hot spices that add wonderful flavor to your pie, I recommend it for the buffalo chicken pizza. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Pie serves Coke products, a plus for our family. They also have some good salads and cinnamon dessert pies, if you have any room for them. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While we were at Primary Childrens with Birdie, I went to pick up a pizza from their take out location, just around the corner from their original location. The employee noticed my parents badge and told me that they could deliver to PCMC for free. He asked how we were doing and really seemed to care. In a hard time in our lives one guy who was very genuine really touched my heart. It made me like The Pie that much more. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Pie has locations in Midvale, Ogden and South Jordan also. I have not visited the Midvale or Ogden locations, but have been to the South Jordan location quite a few times and the pizza is of identical quality there. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Don't go on a full stomach, don't go on anything but a completely empty stomach, but go. You will love the pizza, and if you don't, you can always bring me a slice or two. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I hope you've enjoyed my tour of pizza. To me, The Pie, Este, and Sweet Home Chicago represent the best pizza that Utah has to offer. If you have any suggestions that I have overlooked, feel free to comment below. </span><br />
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/54/591638/restaurant/East-Central/The-Pie-Pizzeria-Salt-Lake-City"><img alt="The Pie Pizzeria on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/591638/minilink.gif" style="border:none;width:130px;height:36px" /></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14212300609596680037noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643768655288076389.post-7170313524570916852013-10-06T22:41:00.001-07:002013-10-06T22:42:13.322-07:00I Want The Ugly Crap!<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Yesterday I came home to find my loved ones around the computer. Seated on Nellie's lap was Lulu, the soon to be birthday girl. They were online shopping for a Pillow Pet for Eleanor's birthday courtesy of her Nana and Papa. Lulu has been hauling her siblings "Perry the Platypus" and "Dumbo" pillow pets around and it was clear that it was time for her to have her very own pillow that becomes a pet. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If you aren't familiar with Pillow Pets they come in many cute varieties as pictured below:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZfvrGmbSSPVEf1PykDCHhmxvKvJiPSpomHeMQaE0JFw27lSG7h77EIrnKe7JfmtNTr5ZyfLA7DGMw_-kq2US248LlNwx2v1t0plTCsg_wNgjzjCymXCi-NHvlXJh4fukDrHvGAQOYi90/s1600/Cute+Pillow+Pets.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZfvrGmbSSPVEf1PykDCHhmxvKvJiPSpomHeMQaE0JFw27lSG7h77EIrnKe7JfmtNTr5ZyfLA7DGMw_-kq2US248LlNwx2v1t0plTCsg_wNgjzjCymXCi-NHvlXJh4fukDrHvGAQOYi90/s400/Cute+Pillow+Pets.jpeg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There are also Disney pillow pets:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYe9iQJAd-7o6atHWFQJssWsns7FfMiMobt8aaSnnkdEEcOydfTfyhWZq6TL1ZxSJYWnM-7S_o4hYmXXsyuQ8pYI69r8vRx5UUCI_zTMIGZh9bbn1DqSTylK9wiikbUcAiElu9a4Jre20/s1600/disney+pillowpets.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYe9iQJAd-7o6atHWFQJssWsns7FfMiMobt8aaSnnkdEEcOydfTfyhWZq6TL1ZxSJYWnM-7S_o4hYmXXsyuQ8pYI69r8vRx5UUCI_zTMIGZh9bbn1DqSTylK9wiikbUcAiElu9a4Jre20/s400/disney+pillowpets.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then there is the ugliest pillow pet they make:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJdOI8lz1siXmKKVeg3WsTYMy3bKJc2iZ6WCGxOwVdmCNjHcU32hqwDBp9Eu_VH0d9yoTWwKquvaNKsQq1eHzRQmwXcZTZPjOGEDqGIiDWVWUNEEN7fMtAYi4s9XXx9l121iHoaqVx-pQ/s1600/The+Ugly+Crap+Pilllow+Pet.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJdOI8lz1siXmKKVeg3WsTYMy3bKJc2iZ6WCGxOwVdmCNjHcU32hqwDBp9Eu_VH0d9yoTWwKquvaNKsQq1eHzRQmwXcZTZPjOGEDqGIiDWVWUNEEN7fMtAYi4s9XXx9l121iHoaqVx-pQ/s400/The+Ugly+Crap+Pilllow+Pet.jpeg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Which one do you think Lulu had her heart set on? That is right, the ugly multi-colored unicorn pillow pet that looks more like a bad joke than anything else. Can you imagine if a piece of brightly colored candy got caught in its mange? You'd never be able to find it again. Like camouflage for kid colored gunk. Nellie was trying to suggest the zebra, but Lulu was determined to have her first choice. I piped up from the back "that looks uglier than crap," to which she emphatically replied "I want the ugly crap!!"</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We laughed and laughed and in the end Nellie, in a bit of mothering magic, convinced her to pick the butterfly. With the decision made, the window was closed out before she could change her mind. Heaven forbid she got her own way and we had an ugly toy in the house. Not sure why we fought it. Funny the battles you choose with a soon-to-be 3 year old. </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14212300609596680037noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643768655288076389.post-46176979505225456652013-10-01T19:07:00.005-07:002017-04-20T16:07:21.804-07:00Tubby Tuesday: Sweet Home Chicago<span style="color: blue; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Tubby Tuesday is here again. Time to get your foodie on! As I noted last week, I am in the midst of sharing my favorite pizza places in Utah. Certainly I'm no food expert, except that I love food. Tubby Tuesday is a chance for me to share with others the restaurants and foods that make me happy. Some of them are well-known places. Others are more obscure. Judging from my social circles I would say todays TT featured restaurant is more of the latter category: <a href="http://www.shcpizza.com/index.html" target="_blank">Sweet Home Chicago</a>. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-dtA3AAZTFeeUP-9Jdao77sgbV9_nF3JV8jnLAlUkNv_h9RgWIiOLa0dpdWM7Q3Z3pWvla4ju37T5Jv1-kVEQbGe8R1d1SwmPVdvEJCUbkNLrmLGG779CgSNdm-1xmQUuFoX6Ggk2Dkw/s1600/SweetHome.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-dtA3AAZTFeeUP-9Jdao77sgbV9_nF3JV8jnLAlUkNv_h9RgWIiOLa0dpdWM7Q3Z3pWvla4ju37T5Jv1-kVEQbGe8R1d1SwmPVdvEJCUbkNLrmLGG779CgSNdm-1xmQUuFoX6Ggk2Dkw/s400/SweetHome.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Located on the east side of Draper (1442 East Draper Parkway), SHC certainly doesn't look like much outside or inside. The first thing I noticed was the abundance of Chicago memorabilia around the joint. Reminders of championships past for Chicago based sports teams abound. The menu is simple, yet complex. They have a number a specialty pizzas with windy city names like: The Chicago Transit Authority or The Ditka (wondering why they don't have a 'Da Bears pizza won't make them create one). In ordering your pie you really have one choice to make. Do you want a thin crust -or- do you want one of the best pizza pies you have ever eaten and hence want to get a stuffed pizza? As you can tell, this is really not a question at all. </span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">My favorite pizza (hence the one I will heartily recommend) is The Don. It's a classic meat-lovers type of pizza with the added beauty of green peppers and mushrooms. On top of a generous helping of toppings and cheese is another sheet of dough covered in a wonderful pizza sauce and some Parmesan cheese. The resulting pie is a masterpiece in your mouth. The sweet sauce is the first thing you taste, followed by a poetic mixture of meats and flavors. Eating multiple slices is a challenge for most, but don't skimp and order a smaller size. This is a pizza that I always want to take home with me. Leftover stuffed pizzas are almost as good as straight from the oven pizzas.</span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Not as amazing (again it's hard to be this amazing) is the thin crust pizza. To be sure, I'm not really a thin-crust aficionado, therefore I'm not fully qualified to state this opinion. It's good pizza, but it isn't super-memorable. Last time we ordered a thin crust pizza, I ate five or six slices before my stomach even detected that anything had been added to it. In other words, a lot goes a little way. </span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The menu also features a lovely Italian salad that has a sweet Italian dressing on it. It is delectable and easy to love. The cheese bread is also worthwhile, but you may want to forego adding anything to your meal in fear that you won't have enough of an appetite for the main event. </span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The staff at SHC is wonderful. After you order you can watch the goings-on in the kitchen as there are windows where you can watch them make, toss, and dress the pizza in your sight. We have never been in the restaurant when there was much of a crowd, a normal red-flag, but it's always been spot on. </span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Take the drive east on 123rd south until you find this pizza treasure on the south side of the road. You will thank me later. Tubby on. </span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><b>*Update: Unfortunately Sweet Home Chicago could not overcome a bad location and is now closed. </b></span></span> </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14212300609596680037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643768655288076389.post-88153648914915933542013-09-23T19:14:00.001-07:002013-10-06T18:40:19.738-07:00Tubby Tuesday: ESTE Pizzeria<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I told you I love pizza. On last week's Tubby Tuesday I told you about <a href="http://sharethepants.blogspot.com/2013/09/tubby-tuesday-nicolitalia-pizzeria.html" target="_blank">Nicolitalias Pizzeria</a> down in Provo. Today we head back up north to one of my 3 favorite Utah pizza places. For the next three Tubby Tuesdays I will be sharing my top 3 Utah pizza places. It is difficult to choose which is the best simply because it depends on the style of pizza. This week we visit <a href="http://estepizzaco.com/" target="_blank">ESTE pizzeria</a>, which fits the bill as the "Best New York Style Pizza in Utah."</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFOYE5JD5V0S30U0anwLKdwCFx28MdY_GrTss_mFPjxypBhVRxU2FGXTkLYtJuTprCASoGb6Eg4p6_pkShMlNSgFU8Nk5zYxA85ee0OS2Qz_6vxNqO0eInnZznU7FWW8gL0r17oo2pGBM/s1600/Estes_no_border.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFOYE5JD5V0S30U0anwLKdwCFx28MdY_GrTss_mFPjxypBhVRxU2FGXTkLYtJuTprCASoGb6Eg4p6_pkShMlNSgFU8Nk5zYxA85ee0OS2Qz_6vxNqO0eInnZznU7FWW8gL0r17oo2pGBM/s400/Estes_no_border.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is not a title that I give out lightly, nor without many visits to this wonderful pizza joint. I have to thank my friend Garrett (who is a bit of a pizza savant) for turning me on to ESTE. Located at 156 E and 200 South in Salt Lake City, the restaurant is underwhelming from the curb. On my first visit I drove past it twice before I saw it:</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyAr4IOxW9ULnc5MAg7vAsLf9uMpmgbME-f7rsZNJGLi_qDQ4w1lO9zPNWgaHXJX0tPQfeDSVydYlbocPB2cnfMMbGHJHRp_ZAIFy9ReSZ3moZ2p5-GSjWt0S7Et9fne89EFQQvLhnltg/s1600/este_downtown_pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyAr4IOxW9ULnc5MAg7vAsLf9uMpmgbME-f7rsZNJGLi_qDQ4w1lO9zPNWgaHXJX0tPQfeDSVydYlbocPB2cnfMMbGHJHRp_ZAIFy9ReSZ3moZ2p5-GSjWt0S7Et9fne89EFQQvLhnltg/s640/este_downtown_pic.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Like Many Great Food Places Este Doesn't Appear Too Exciting From Outside</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When we walked inside it had a great vibe. The walls are tastefully decorated with pop-art concert posters and materials like corrugated steel. The menu is simple, yet caters to many different tastes. ESTE is a Coke establishment which always matters to me for some reason. For starters we'll usually get the breaded cheese ravioli (third time in Tubby Tuesday that I have mentioned some type fried/baked ravioli as an appetizer) which is the best I have tried. When it comes piping hot to the table filled with molten-cheese goodness it is hard to resist eating the entire portion by oneself. The mozzarella sticks are also fantastic here, if I've had better ones I can't remember. We keep making the mistake of ordering the garlic knots, which sound much better than they actually are. They are just small lumps of cooked dough with an abundance of fresh garlic on top of them. Every time I have ordered them there was FAR TOO MUCH garlic on them. If you find you must order them, I would recommend removing about half of the garlic, adding an abundance of parmesan cheese, and then add the green tabasco sauce to them. This is the best way I have found to cope with the only sub-par item I have discovered on their menu. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZGctuvg-tLytm9i8AX5owSSe4x25uzEqXp3ijcCWrRIipXIpTrwSNCOwV9r2LyFhmZp3j033GVXDnU_875F3_UDqMWB-v5C8j_GD2zg1ty4zBKsb44FxdjmzpoWTaTNSTD4917Mu4npE/s1600/este-pizza.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZGctuvg-tLytm9i8AX5owSSe4x25uzEqXp3ijcCWrRIipXIpTrwSNCOwV9r2LyFhmZp3j033GVXDnU_875F3_UDqMWB-v5C8j_GD2zg1ty4zBKsb44FxdjmzpoWTaTNSTD4917Mu4npE/s640/este-pizza.jpg" width="478" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One Of the Wonderful Pizzas of ESTE Pizzeria (photo courtesy of TripAdvisor)</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now for the pizza! The pizza at ESTE does not disappoint. Large slices that are thin and perfect for folding come out on huge pizza pans that sit on top of stands in the center of the tables. My favorite pizzas are The Clay which is their version of a meat lovers pizza, and The Pink with pepperoni added. The Clay comes with pepperoni, ham, sausage and thin sliced meatball. The meatball really sends The Clay to the tip-top of the list. It is the best meatball I have ever had on a pizza! It is unbeatable. The Pink is ricotta cheese mixed with marinara sauce topped in mozzarella cheese. I have had it on its own and it is good, if pepperoni is added the pie sings. I'm getting terribly hungry just writing about it!</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While the temptation may be too great to resist, try not too eat too much pizza too quickly. On my third or fourth visit I realized that if allowed to cool for ten or fifteen minutes, ESTE pizzas actually have <i>more</i> flavor. This is probably a result from being able to taste the oils from the meat and cheese, but I recommend you try to have a room temperature slice. You will probably never eat pizza the same way again. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">ESTE pizza is also thin enough that it is easy to eat more than you were intending. A large or extra large pizza can be downed with little challenge. Of course, leftover pizza is fantastic as well. I urge you to visit ESTE--you will be glad you did!</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Do you have a pizza place that rivals ESTE? Leave a comment below and I'll check it out!</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/54/1426602/restaurant/East-Central/Este-Pizzeria-Salt-Lake-City"><img alt="Este Pizzeria on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1426602/minilink.gif" style="border: none; height: 36px; width: 130px;" /></a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14212300609596680037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643768655288076389.post-77796475235624300982013-09-17T21:51:00.001-07:002013-09-17T21:51:08.297-07:00How I Became A BYU Fan<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am a BYU fan. That is one of the easiest confessions I've ever made. I love BYU football. Three or four months a year I revel in the victories, cringe at the losses and sweat all the week to week drama that each football season brings. The rest of the year I spend looking forward to the new players who will join the team, analyze the lay of future schedules and generally wish football season was on us again. </span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's certainly amazing that I ever became a BYU fan in the first place. I was born to parents who both received degrees from the University of Utah. All four of my grandparents were also Utah graduates. My maternal grandfather was even the student body president at the U back in 1933. (Luckily, I was raised by parents who weren't huge sports fans or I might have been sitting writing in red today). (In the interest of full disclosure: my paternal grandmother was born to a huge BYU fan, but she rebelled and rooted for Utah).</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of these things is not like the other...</td></tr>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Academically the closest I got to attending BYU was attending the version that is on tropical islands (and whose school colors actually <i>are</i> red and white) Luckily I married a BYU girl with a father and grandfather with BYU degrees so my children could have some balance in their family tree. </span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm not sure where my fandom really began, but there are certainly milestones along the way. When I was 7 or 8 and living with my family in Cottonwood Heights (<a href="http://www.ksl.com/?sid=26891019&nid=294" target="_blank">a haven for Ute fans it turns out</a>) my friend and I painted a white Y on the frame of the door of our treehouse. A short time later the neighborhood kids found out that Ty Detmer was at a baseball game in our local park and he was nice enough to sign my baseball glove (what was I thinking--a baseball glove?). Later, after we had moved to Orem, my dad would take us to BYU games that he had been given tickets for. We didn't go to many, but I remember thinking they were the best games ever. </span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In high school, I casually observed and cheered for BYU, but didn't go too far out of my way to watch many games. As a missionary, my mission president (a former Cougar tackle) let us watch the BYU Utah game (last miracle for LaVell game) that his children had recorded and sent to him one Christmas. It wasn't until I returned home from my mission that I began to take my fanhood more seriously. </span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">BYU had a losing season in 2002, their first since 1973 and I began to really follow week to week. Nellie and I had one of our first fights as a married couple as we watched Colorado State drub BYU in the rain and snow in 2003--the Y would go on to a second losing season in a row and I started to follow recruiting. The next year I got season tickets with some friends and we had some ups, but mostly downs as the Cougars suffered another humiliating season--and I was hooked. </span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm not sure how, but rooting for BYU to be good when they were just horrific somehow steeled my determination to support the team through thick and thin. When BYU hired Bronco Mendenhall and they began to turn it around, I talked my dad and brothers into buying season tickets with me. For seven years now we have been going to games together and have seen some amazing plays. In that time we also added Scott to the mix. Since he was four he's been to more BYU games than not. </span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We've been in the stadium together in snow up to our calves and rain that filled our shoes. We've been sunburnt together and have cheered as one in crisp fall weather. Together we watched Austin Collie catch a ball on 4th and 18, Andrew George catch a touchdown pass in OT, and we've seen BYU scores of 59-0 and 44-0 in consecutive weeks. We've watched in awe as BYU has competed against amazing athletes that sometimes got the better of us. Through it all, we've built some amazing memories.</span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have loved spending time with my son, my dad, and my brothers and even my sister-in-law (we added her along the way). It has been a great excuse to hang out and spend time together. Most importantly it has been a great way to spend time with Scott. He and I have not only watched many games together at LaVell Edwards Stadium, but have seen some great games on the road, including a couple of bowl games. </span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We look forward to many more years of BYU games ahead. Although winning is much more fun than losing, it doesn't really matter as long as we're spending time together and building memories. Go Cougars!</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14212300609596680037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643768655288076389.post-28816626786489877682013-09-17T00:12:00.000-07:002013-10-06T18:42:06.396-07:00Tubby Tuesday: Nicolitalia Pizzeria<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Who doesn't love a great slice of pizza? Seriously. My daughter Birdie, I suppose, but other than that.... Michael Scott once taught me that pizza is the great equalizer. Just about everyone likes it. <br />
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I'm not like most people. I LOVE pizza. I crave pizza often. Even when I don't crave pizza I'm still willing to eat it. My friend and I once tried to eat a pizza THIS BIG:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big Pizza (not from Nicolitalia's)</td></tr>
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I didn't want to eat pizza again for about 17 hours or so. As a pizza lover, I have some places that are very special to me which I plan on featuring on Tubby Tuesday in the future. Today, I wanted to feature Nicolitalia Pizzeria--mainly because I have heard so much about it and finally got to try it. <br />
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<a href="https://nicolitaliapizzeria.com/" target="_blank">Nicolitalia Pizzeria</a> is authentic Boston pizza (sorry Boston, but I didn't know you had your own pizza style...is that just because NY and Chicago had theirs so you had to have your own?) and they make of point of highlighting anything on their menu they can add an "ah" to ie: appetizahs, gahden salad etc. I guess that's to help those of us who can't speak with a Boston accent (which of course we all can because we saw Goodwill Hunting on tv at least once and....I digress). It is located at 2295 N University Parkway in Provo, which is in the shopping center south of Movies 8. When we pulled up I knew their food had to be decent at least to still be in business because most of my life it's seemed that this is a location that restaurants go to die.<br />
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Nellie and I walked in and immediately felt like this was a hole in the wall feel. That was the first thing I liked about it. We decided to order the baked ravioli and the Nicolitalia's Special pizza, deep dish style because one of us doesn't like thin crust pizza (and it's not me). The pizza came with sausage, pepperoni, mushrooms, onions and peppahs (incredibly kind of Nellie because she isn't a fan of mushrooms and I love them--isn't she great?). <br />
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The eating area has a slight cafeteria feel to it, almost as though the ambience doesn't matter much at all--you're there for great pizza. There were some fun hand drawn signs on the wall that made me smile. My favorite is the one on the bottom right of this photo that says "Sure, you can find a cheaper pizza. But then you have to eat it."<br />
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Since Nicolitalia's is a Pepsi place, I may or may-not have traipsed across University Parkway to the Jimmy John's and purchased a Diet Coke. Our food was ready pretty quickly. First the ravioli came out. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nicolitalia Pizzeria Baked Ravioli</td></tr>
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They looked a little well done, but they tasted just fine. They weren't my favorite of all time, but they were pretty delicious still. Not long after our pizza was ready. </div>
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The pizza was a thing of beauty. The first thing I noticed was they used authentic, fresh mozzarella cheese, so there were globs in some areas and less or none in other areas. I love fresh mozzarella because it adds so much extra flavor and dimension to the pizza. The toppings were plentiful and fresh. My first bite was perfect! The crust was bready, but had a nice crunch to it that is rare in pizza. Each subsequent bite was delicious. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fresh Mozzarella in all its glory</td></tr>
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Part way through our meal the couple at the table next to us had their pizza slide off the table and end up on the floor. We thought about offering them half of our pizza, but before we could the owners of the restaurant came out, cleaned it up, and offered to make them a new one! I was impressed by the quick attention and their desire to make it a good dining experience for this couple. I already enjoyed their pizza, but watching that made me want to support their restaurant even more. </div>
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Overall, I really enjoyed Nicolitalia Pizzeria, and would give it solid endorsement. It's certainly my favorite pizza place in Utah county that I have tried. There are some pizza places that I will review in future Tubby Tuesday's that I like better, but they are all further north. We will definitely be back and will be anxious to try more pizza, because I like pizza, and I love a good pizza. </div>
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/54/1221754/restaurant/Salt-Lake-City/Nicolitalia-Pizzeria-Provo"><img alt="Nicolitalia Pizzeria on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1221754/minilink.gif" style="border: none; height: 36px; width: 130px;" /></a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14212300609596680037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643768655288076389.post-59628577761841528972013-09-15T21:05:00.002-07:002013-09-16T13:36:21.518-07:00They're Gonna Hate You!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The other day I loaded up a bike I had borrowed more than a year ago to return it to a friend who had loaned it to me. I had borrowed it to ride Slickrock with some Boy Scouts last summer. I'm not the most on-the-ball borrower there ever was and long-story short--I didn't return it. Day after day it sat there and <i>every time</i> I saw it I knew I should return it. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After long enough, I was embarrassed about returning it, it had been so unreasonably long to have a bike that I wasn't even riding the prospect became even more silly and being ridiculous it sat there longer. Finally enough was enough and the bike was loaded up. I took Birdie along for the ride. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As we drove toward my friend's home Birdie started to ask questions. Whose bike was this? How long had I had it? When I told her she replied "Oh--they're gonna <i><b>hate</b></i> you." Very matter-of-factly, she continued "they're never going to let you borrow anything <i><b>ever again</b></i>." It made me laugh. She didn't try to make me feel better about dropping the ball and kicking it down the street far too long, she just said what I'd feared inside all along. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They didn't hate me. I'm sure they would think twice about loaning something to me. That's okay, they probably should be careful about loaning me things given my recent track record. I hope I've learned a lesson. Kids are wonderful. They don't know how to guard what they say because they haven't learned what not to say. I can always count on my kids telling me what they really think. I hope I don't train that completely out of them.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14212300609596680037noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643768655288076389.post-57085020921570194032013-09-12T12:29:00.000-07:002013-09-12T13:30:49.402-07:00Throwback Thursday: The Great Escape!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Who doesn't love sharing a room with their sibling? Birdie and Lulu sure seem to get along fairly well. Now that the girls have bunk beds they don't see as much of each other and fall asleep much faster. That wasn't always the case. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We used to have a very difficult time trying to get the girls to sleep at the same time. Often we would put one to sleep on our bed and the other in their room, and would move them once they were asleep. On occasion we would let them "have one more chance" to sleep in the same room. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lulu slept in a crib still and Birdie had her "big girl bed" so we were confused when Lulu came toddling down the stairs one evening. "How did you get out of bed?" We asked. She told us that Birdie had helped her out. Curious we ventured upstairs for an explanation. Realizing they were not in trouble, Birdie and Lulu were happy to demonstrate. Tada!</span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzExjGMLnlK9uxXiNVUMQozlHRW_G2-kFgkCWtwHIvhN1YWA6AYUcFchOTPSKn_sT-zcGDhGOr3uwtg2shAzA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></div>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We couldn't help but laugh. How cute that our little girls are willing to work together. I am happy that they get along relatively well for little girls. I am sure the future will bring challenges with it, they may not speak for a year when they are teens, but for now they help each other out. Even if it's a little naughty. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If the video doesn't load, check it out at <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LPQ4RgUyQ4Q&feature=youtu.be" target="_blank">YouTube</a></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14212300609596680037noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643768655288076389.post-50004549138607602272013-09-10T20:41:00.004-07:002013-10-06T18:44:14.778-07:00Tubby Tuesday: Rocky Mountain Wingshak<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After last weeks visit up north to <a href="http://sharethepants.blogspot.com/2013/09/tubby-tuesday-moochies.html" target="_blank">Moochies</a>, we're staying home in Happy Valley for this weeks installment of Tubby Tuesday. Today I plan on letting you in on one of my little secrets. When the calendar turns to fall, men think about football. Here in Utah we love our college football. What goes better with football than wings? Nothing. Unfortunately many people are misguided in what they should look for in wings. There are people who get so desperate that they visit Buffalo Wild Wings and lose their hearing while eating sub-par wings. Don't do this! BWW is terrible compared to <a href="http://wingshak.com/" target="_blank">Rocky Mountain Wingshak</a>! </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD5c7vDgvuSTgDeTjvWyCz0DYPmsaTX8Xcjv9zdty6qcU1hq90DpPOv0zHcjNUV4BdaH2BJgjykVnmE6ghOZMdhKsXNMALzixoqw5YyeBsZL4kkrrYtICqNBuERo4xXD84nGaAlrXEzSY/s1600/wingshak.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD5c7vDgvuSTgDeTjvWyCz0DYPmsaTX8Xcjv9zdty6qcU1hq90DpPOv0zHcjNUV4BdaH2BJgjykVnmE6ghOZMdhKsXNMALzixoqw5YyeBsZL4kkrrYtICqNBuERo4xXD84nGaAlrXEzSY/s640/wingshak.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Rocky Mountain Wingshak (hereafter RMWS) was first introduced to me about five or six years ago. A buddy visited my house for the BYU game and brought about 30 wings with him. I can't remember the outcome of the game, but I do remember how great those wings were. Located on 5th East and State Street in American Fork it isn't much to look at from the outside. Flanked in a strip mall by Coldstone/<a href="http://rockymountainchocolatefactory.com/rmcf/control/portalHome" target="_blank">RockyMtnChocolateFactory</a> (it just dawned on me as I was writing this how odd it is there are two Rocky Mountain named places side by side--why can't <a href="http://rockymtnpower.net/" target="_blank">Rocky Mountain Power</a> open up an office on the other side? A Rocky Mountain trifecta!) and 7-11 it would be easy to miss if you didn't know it was there.</span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm a lunch regular and will warn that it's typically packed at lunch. I have actually never been there outside of normal lunch hours, so I can't tell you what it's like at dinner, sorry (this isn't really a food blog after all). The best value on the menu is the lunch special. It's 8 wings (half stick, half flats), tater tots or fries, with either blue cheese or ranch, and they also have a great fry sauce. All this food is just over $10 after tax. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They have a great variety of wing flavors, but I prefer the traditional hot buffalo (available in hot, medium, or mild) wings with the tots and fry sauce. They also have great garlic parmesan, pineapple barbecue and lemon pepper. RMWS is also a Pepsi outlet, good news for those who love Mtn Dew, bad news if you love Diet Coke. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoK-HAOIsa1BVlXzOFcswSI7kojxSP8OyWUDVDxrdOQnKZrLRNuiOr6uY_bNHQz_J8XfGL9DwexOhR5PICkq4vq5mF4C-CrxHV0q8CN93a-33JyhKkZIUFbcytnSzj9R6KSoXKft83khQ/s1600/IMG_1883.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoK-HAOIsa1BVlXzOFcswSI7kojxSP8OyWUDVDxrdOQnKZrLRNuiOr6uY_bNHQz_J8XfGL9DwexOhR5PICkq4vq5mF4C-CrxHV0q8CN93a-33JyhKkZIUFbcytnSzj9R6KSoXKft83khQ/s640/IMG_1883.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">According to their menu they also offer things like salads, wraps, and sandwiches, though I've never seen one ordered. I don't have any desire to deviate from the </span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The walls on both sides are filled with pictures of people who were demented enough to do the RMWS challenge: eat 12 wings with their XXX hot sauce on it in 30 minutes or less with no sauce or water. I've never attempted, nor will I ever attempt this challenge, but it's a great look. There are many people pictured who seem to have realized they made a huge mistake but carried on, probably because they had brought others to witness the debacle. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzoBYmxk6UdLbhYLRdSCbjJDLPGNg_cn6w2Di_phXEZM4xG3bYtrW9W81YXDudIzuE9xZ8jmYchAuR6snN5KBpOk-aLy1OLexXiX1cCDGVWGcuu2pXmY2pRoNozlMlYCbv0MsI5qOwJYs/s1600/IMG_1882.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzoBYmxk6UdLbhYLRdSCbjJDLPGNg_cn6w2Di_phXEZM4xG3bYtrW9W81YXDudIzuE9xZ8jmYchAuR6snN5KBpOk-aLy1OLexXiX1cCDGVWGcuu2pXmY2pRoNozlMlYCbv0MsI5qOwJYs/s640/IMG_1882.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What makes RMWS great? The wings! They are the most consistently meaty wings I have found. The sauces are excellent and consistent, and the tater tots and fries are spot-on. The restaurant itself lacks some charm, but you can have a good conversation and leave with the hearing in both of your ears. I'm hesitant to write about RMWS because it's fairly small, and I don't want to create extra lines to deal with. If you like wings, I highly recommend RMWS. Try it, you'll thank me later!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/54/1503734/restaurant/Salt-Lake-City/Rocky-Mountain-Wingshak-American-Fork"><img alt="Rocky Mountain Wingshak on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1503734/minilink.gif" style="border: none; height: 36px; width: 130px;" /></a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14212300609596680037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643768655288076389.post-45228082109553470992013-09-09T15:37:00.000-07:002013-09-10T08:42:48.912-07:00Miracles Still Happen<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
by Nell: September 5<sup>th</sup>, 2013<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Eva and I
had an appointment at the hospital to ultrasound her liver and determine if the
antibiotics that had been killing her infection had also been shrinking the
mass on her liver, which had been approximately 2.5 inches in diameter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were hoping that at very least the mass
was the same size, and optimistically thinking that perhaps it had shrunk
some.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her blood tests were coming back
each week with good numbers in reference to the infection, but because of the
peculiarity of her situation, they had no way of knowing how the mass would
react.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Trev gave
Birdie a blessing Wednesday night and in it told her that she would be
completely healed, and that this situation would serve to give her experience
and empathy for others going through difficult trials.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I heard those words my heart leapt,
daring to hope the end was in sight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
because our Father’s timeline and my own rarely coincide, I tried to secure my
emotions and not expect too much the following day, knowing that yes she would
get better, but it still may be a long road of recovery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Driving to
Provo that next morning took years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
felt like I was moving in slow motion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
heart thudded harder and harder as we drew nearer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought of <a href="http://www.lds.org/general-conference/2013/04/lord-i-believe?lang=eng">Elder Holland’s talk from last General Conference</a>, and the words, “Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief,”
became my silent mantra as I considered the many instances in other peoples’
lives where miraculous events had happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I know and believe that the hand of God was guiding and protecting
them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just wasn’t sure if it was His
will for the same to happen today, for Eva.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>For one reason or another, trials and hardships have different
durations, and perhaps we had more to learn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Then I’d scold myself for my wavering faith, and would dare to hope that
we would find our end today, throwing me back into the cycle that would start
over again- doubting and hoping.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"><br /></span>
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
radiology techs came and took us back to the exam room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eva clutched my arm tightly, holding fast
with both hands, and walked slowly and deliberately. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was only then that it occurred to me that
perhaps her anxiety level not only matched, but also most likely exceeded my
own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"><br /></span>
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>They went
about their work, clicking and measuring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Everything looked like a black blob to me, so I had no way of knowing
what they saw, or whether it was good or bad news.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Techs are not allowed to comment on what they
see, and as I’ve recently learned, have very good poker faces.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After several minutes, one looked at the
other and he said, “Well, I’ll go pull up the original scans, so we can
compare.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He left the room and came back
with his supervisor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The supervisor took
over the clicking for the next several minutes, scrutinizing each image,
twisting the wand in each of her ribs to get the best views possible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By now we were up to about the 40-minute
mark, much longer than I had anticipated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When the supervisor got on the phone with the “expert”, who pulled up
the ultrasound images on his end and two began to confer, my anxiety rose
exponentially.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What on earth was taking
so long?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You could tell the supervisor
was trying to remain passive, but that it was becoming difficult.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Finally, he blurted out, “I can’t measure
anything, because there’s nothing here to measure!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Like the
release of a pressure valve, my shoulders slumped and my eyes filled with
tears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I blinked fast, trying to keep it
together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“It’s just like Daddy said,” I
whispered to Eva.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The tech smiled at us
and said, “Heavenly Father must be watching out for you, Eva.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We walked
out into the sunshine, and I felt light as a feather.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dr. Osguthorpe rejoiced with us at the news
saying that he couldn’t be more pleased with the outcome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He took out her picc line and although we
love and appreciate all that the doctors have done for us, said the 6 most
magical words, “You are all done with doctors.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDsk5S2A9W-m7h9pd-lyK6nCW_TsVdNyZ0YuiWU9GeADNZ5joHm7KVpzaf8dUauVA7QH6Xm-YXTlEmlmUxPhmihXcjQy7Va1skMkyHfoUf0WLHpKp18hCt-85nFFunwy6Aww7neqBOwNMJ/s1600/9-5-13EvaIN.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDsk5S2A9W-m7h9pd-lyK6nCW_TsVdNyZ0YuiWU9GeADNZ5joHm7KVpzaf8dUauVA7QH6Xm-YXTlEmlmUxPhmihXcjQy7Va1skMkyHfoUf0WLHpKp18hCt-85nFFunwy6Aww7neqBOwNMJ/s640/9-5-13EvaIN.jpg" width="476" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhikyePn1K0tMjL5Ap8-Buk8LDHuq8TTWxvYH7T_5nbpfaE2HkqgRBlMTeZ9KFwXA9F9RshL2NBE-Omi_Jk2wsdbFHaL6V968sH9Y0KhyphenhyphenXVVWlTr4A7SczE4BDXo3-f0XiZ34vXprLC1GhN/s1600/9-5-13EvaPout.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhikyePn1K0tMjL5Ap8-Buk8LDHuq8TTWxvYH7T_5nbpfaE2HkqgRBlMTeZ9KFwXA9F9RshL2NBE-Omi_Jk2wsdbFHaL6V968sH9Y0KhyphenhyphenXVVWlTr4A7SczE4BDXo3-f0XiZ34vXprLC1GhN/s640/9-5-13EvaPout.jpg" width="476" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bye Bye picc line!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There is
much that we have learned throughout this ordeal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One lesson in particular was taught to me by
the Child Life Specialist at Primary Children’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When people would ask how I was doing, I had
gotten into the habit of saying I was fine because, “It could be much worse.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It doesn’t take long being at the hospital to
realize there are many who are in deeper trouble than you are, and it’s humbling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I answered her in this same way, the
Child Life Specialist cut me off and said, “You can’t say that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can’t think that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Minimizing your experiences because others
are having different ones just makes it so that you don’t deal with your situation.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought a lot about that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wasn’t fine, and haven’t been fine for a
long time, but didn’t feel like I was allowed to say that because Eva’s life
wasn’t currently hanging by a thread.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s
okay to tell people you’re not okay.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We received
an enormous outpouring of love and support from our friends and family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some messages of hope and courage came from
friends we haven’t talked to in years. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were meals brought in, groceries bought,
cards were decorated and delivered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>People came and visited, brought us non-cafeteria food, took beautiful
keepsake pictures, and offered their kind words and prayers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t worry once about my kids at home
because care was being taken on that end too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Through it all, the service that touched us the most was done without
asking first—people just saw a need and filled it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So much emotional energy is wrapped up in
having a sick kid that I couldn’t even think of what to ask help for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How deeply we appreciate those who found a
way to help, if only by a sweet message on Facebook or by text.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Another
powerful lesson we had reaffirmed is that even more than before, I know, and Eva
knows, that our Heavenly Father is aware of and loves her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had so many tender mercies and moments
where we knew that heaven was close, and that we were being watched over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eva’s faith grew throughout this event.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She would ask for blessings, and always
thanked her Father in prayer when she was able to be brave, especially during
the skin-ripping dressing changes that made her cry every week, and countless
“big pokes” over which she had no control.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Paramount
was the lesson that miracles still happen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Sometimes when everything works out, we dismiss it away as coincidence
or good fortune.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But without hesitating,
I know Eva was healed, and I know it was a miracle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How grateful I am for that knowledge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcK_vywkYO5MLdh6fP0x5gEuaheJNWzbx66TjHWDOmJIZI4QjULJbKZ3RfFyFB5QubxvI669O2aGm1ktxzug2mE2d3Io6sMQKPrdnMFnTGDvw5ppPI66H_Prwh-NDirILvAgaRlL4KdLT8/s1600/8-24-13Dr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcK_vywkYO5MLdh6fP0x5gEuaheJNWzbx66TjHWDOmJIZI4QjULJbKZ3RfFyFB5QubxvI669O2aGm1ktxzug2mE2d3Io6sMQKPrdnMFnTGDvw5ppPI66H_Prwh-NDirILvAgaRlL4KdLT8/s640/8-24-13Dr.jpg" width="476" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stylin' Zombie Girl</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-fIOd0zdejOty3W-ekFmKRo6J1lK6IWPeKySR1lxiWQseFU2yJqgQkrD5OHmne7Q867hvnKYDbahViVKMKJAT6rGcoj5htbRlJVFF3S4UozgSQ14Zwats3xJkYovafVPNKyfhINzwm6aq/s1600/8-28-13Dr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-fIOd0zdejOty3W-ekFmKRo6J1lK6IWPeKySR1lxiWQseFU2yJqgQkrD5OHmne7Q867hvnKYDbahViVKMKJAT6rGcoj5htbRlJVFF3S4UozgSQ14Zwats3xJkYovafVPNKyfhINzwm6aq/s640/8-28-13Dr.jpg" width="476" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another stellar styled outfit</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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janelle perkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796604357588375744noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643768655288076389.post-76447007340225166632013-09-06T20:48:00.000-07:002013-09-10T12:43:52.878-07:00Breaking Radio Silence--Part 2<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
By Nell.<br />
<br />
I wanted to include a few experiences from our hospital stay that meant a lot to us, and that we want Eva to remember when time dims her own memories of the situation. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTTKcKwTV7E-nqKkwRsDrodS-fqrfwRV9FM2uSRhxXTBsBppD5U_Q571VRjkBnDbt3WmuB2ZB7YCtZXmyrevUqVawysPCKf_bnXhwBEVrrlBTur8N2BvG4jg6wwVt2O87RhDHp3xEe_seG/s1600/8-11-13PCMC013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTTKcKwTV7E-nqKkwRsDrodS-fqrfwRV9FM2uSRhxXTBsBppD5U_Q571VRjkBnDbt3WmuB2ZB7YCtZXmyrevUqVawysPCKf_bnXhwBEVrrlBTur8N2BvG4jg6wwVt2O87RhDHp3xEe_seG/s640/8-11-13PCMC013.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Looking back on our week at Primary Children's, with a few nights of sleep under my belt, has given me the benefit of seeing many tender mercies I hadn't previously acknowledged as such. I wanted to share a few of those here. And although I still think I could sleep for 3 days straight if given the opportunity, I feel a bit more clear-headed about the situation as more time passes.<br />
<br />
On Sunday morning (August 11th 2013) a kid who looked 10 years younger than me knocked on our door and invited us to church. It was only a short 30 min. service, geared toward children. Eva still felt pretty crappy and knowing that even in the best of circumstances church is a challenge for us, I was reluctant. I didn't want the fight, didn't want the hassle, and I felt like I totally deserved a "pass" in this particular situation. But as the minutes ticked on, my conscience was pricked enough that it nudged me to make the necessary arrangements with her med schedule to go. Again the oddity of my current situation struck heavy as I found myself in the same room we had done volunteer training in, 10 years ago. Bright-eyed and naive, I had no idea how precious this hospital would become to me as it would one day care for my sweet little Birdie. Now I sat here in stinky 2-day-old clothes, next to my 6 year old in a wheelchair, waiting for the service, and tried not to feel too self conscious of my smell. <br />
<br />
We watched many similar pairings enter the room after us. It was humbling to see. My heart ached<br />
to look around at the now-full room that was filled with ailing children, and their stale-clothed parents who were trying to keep it together just like me. One boy was wheeled in with an incision from ear to ear, the gnarly gaps stapled together across his scalp. Eva drew in a deep breath and whispered, "Oh Mommy!" and shook her head in sympathy. I think she felt humbled too. <br />
<br />
We sang, "How Firm a Foundation" as the opening song, and I lost my ability to speak when came the words,<br />
<ol class="verses" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; color: #2f393a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'Lucida Sans', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 13px; list-style: none; margin: 0px 0px 16px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<li style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; float: left; line-height: 20px; margin: 0px 0px 20px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; width: 327.265625px;"><div class="line" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 10px; text-indent: -10px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: white;">2. In ev'ry condition--in sickness, in health,</span></blockquote>
</div>
<div class="line" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 10px; text-indent: -10px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: white;">In poverty's vale or abounding in wealth,</span></blockquote>
</div>
<div class="line" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 10px; text-indent: -10px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: white;">At home or abroad, on the land or the sea--</span></blockquote>
</div>
<div class="line" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 10px; text-indent: -10px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: white;">As thy days may demand, as thy days may demand,</span></blockquote>
</div>
<div class="line" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 10px; text-indent: -10px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: white;">As thy days may demand, so thy succor shall be.</span></blockquote>
</div>
</li>
<li style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; clear: left; float: left; line-height: 20px; margin: 0px 0px 20px 34.4375px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; width: 327.265625px;"><div class="line" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 10px; text-indent: -10px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="background-color: white;">3. Fear not, I am with thee; oh, be not dismayed,</span></div>
<div class="line" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 10px; text-indent: -10px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="background-color: white;">For I am thy God and will still give thee aid.</span></div>
<div class="line" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 10px; text-indent: -10px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="background-color: white;">I'll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand,</span></div>
<div class="line" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 10px; text-indent: -10px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="background-color: white;">Upheld by my righteous, upheld by my righteous,</span></div>
<div class="line" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 10px; text-indent: -10px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="background-color: white;">Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand.</span></div>
</li>
<li style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; float: left; line-height: 20px; margin: 0px 0px 20px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; width: 327.265625px;"><div class="line" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 10px; text-indent: -10px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: white;">4. When through the deep waters I call thee to go,</span></blockquote>
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<blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: white;">The rivers of sorrow shall not thee o'erflow,</span></blockquote>
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<blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: white;">For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless,</span></blockquote>
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<div class="line" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 10px; text-indent: -10px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: white;">And sanctify to thee, and sanctify to thee,</span></blockquote>
</div>
<div class="line" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 10px; text-indent: -10px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="background-color: white;">And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress. </span></blockquote>
</div>
</li>
</ol>
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They had a beautiful musical number by perhaps the best solo violinist I have ever heard. Then a brief spiritual thought. Eva was wincing half-way through, and I urged her to hold on for just a few more minutes. I'm so glad we got to go. It was a blessing to be able to feel a renewed affirmation that Heavenly Father knows each of these sick children and loves them, and above all, has a plan for them, whether it be here on earth or back in heaven with Him. Not only that, but to be reminded that Heavenly Father knows me, and each of those heart-broken parents, and to remember that we are not alone in our suffering. <br />
<br />
Mid-Monday morning, Eva was "just hungry and tragic" in her own words. She was without food or drink in anticipation of an ultrasound. Thankfully, the playroom, which would become our saving grace for our weeks stay, announced that they were having an art show on t.v. Not wanting to miss out on a potential 15 minutes of fame, Eva asked to go down to the playroom for the show, so she could be on hospital t.v. She was hilarious to watch. They made fish tanks, and Eva quipped about how puffer fish "freak her out" at a table full of adults. The family of rats nesting in the back of her hair were quite pronounced as she turned her head in profile. It was a lovely diversion, and she charmed everyone there. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Images courtesy of Christopher Krause</td></tr>
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Tuesday morning I was jolted from sleep by a frantic Eva. It was 4 in the morning and two lab techs were trying to take blood for some labs. Cotton-headed from being awakened so early, Eva heard the words "little poke," which by now had become her "trigger words" for terror. She freaked out yelling and flailing, hitting and smacking anything near her. I ran to the bed and tried to calm her thrashing arms and legs. In the midst of the chaos, Eva yelled in desperation, "WAIT! Can we pray?!" "Of course we can pray," I answered quickly, a bit ashamed I hadn't thought of it myself. I said a quick prayer for bravery and strength for Eva, and she instantly calmed down. The lab tech approached slowly, with much caution (for which I couldn't blame him). Before proceeding, his demeanor changed momentarily, as though he was hanging up the "lab tech" hat and putting on another. He leaned over, got nose to nose with Eva, and looking her straight in the eyes whispered, "Eva? I <u>know</u> Heavenly Father is watching over you." He smiled warmly and she nodded her consent for him to proceed. Then just as quickly, he turned back into a lab tech and did what he needed to do. Eva quickly eased back into sleep after the ordeal, and I collapsed back in bed, tears streaming down my cheeks, thankful for the testimony of my daughter in knowing Who to ask for help, and for the testimony of the lab tech, who stepped outside his profession long enough to reassure a scared little girl.<br />
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Tuesday was also the day of the liver biopsy and installation of the picc line. Eva's anxiety level was through the roof, and the very mention of "going downstairs" sent her into a full-blown panic attack. We made a plan with the child life specialist, Holly, wherein we would use distraction as much as possible to diffuse her. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgydEWEEDdyeZ18H_5RAjrnVDHQLhrJxFiYWtUcHma6bD938BXWlSkxhII7XcJKgz_ULJMaywNAy_PmtTxMKGeaBAIM69HDXukFVJPtREa_Gc7xVGN2qMu1V1PNcniWU63qpZ3UFCfCUKsO/s1600/CollageSquirt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="459" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgydEWEEDdyeZ18H_5RAjrnVDHQLhrJxFiYWtUcHma6bD938BXWlSkxhII7XcJKgz_ULJMaywNAy_PmtTxMKGeaBAIM69HDXukFVJPtREa_Gc7xVGN2qMu1V1PNcniWU63qpZ3UFCfCUKsO/s640/CollageSquirt.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Holly showed Eva that syringes make great squirters. It was good to see her giggle and laugh again. </td></tr>
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Holly met us in our room with a giant armful of toys, books, and games when it was time to go for the procedure. It was her idea for me to ride in the bed with Birdie which turned out to be inspired as Eva leapt out of bed and into my arms as soon as she figured out what time it was. I carried her back to bed and held her tight as we began our journey downstairs. Peppered with a million frantic questions, we stuck with our distraction game plan, because the more we told her, the more she panicked. We decided that since she would be sedated, there was no point worrying her about something she wouldn't remember. I busied her worried mind with trying to hit Daddy with the bed we were riding in. Always a champion at slap-stick, Trev expertly fell over again and again as we rammed into him, allowing Bird to forget momentarily where we were heading. As soon as she saw the anesthesiologist walk toward her panic set in again, even though the medicine was given through her IV. She feared that she wasn't going to fall asleep the whole way, and that she would feel the "giant poke" which is how she referred to the liver biopsy. After trying every toy and book to distract her, she was still freaking out, so I did the last thing I could think of. I put my mouth close to her ear and started singing "<a href="http://www.justsomelyrics.com/690972/porgy-and-bess-summertime-lyrics.html">Summertime</a>," the lullaby that I used to sing to her when she was a baby. She still occasionally asks for it when she's sick or has a hard time falling asleep. I sang to my 6 year old the same way I sang to her when she was 6 months old, and ironically she looked just as frail and helpless today as she did back then. By now the medicine was doing its job, and Eva began to relax. They told us it was time to leave, but Eva still begged in slurred speech for me to stay and hold her. Even though they told me she wouldn't remember any of this part, it tugged on my mother heart to walk away from her request. It took so much energy to stay upbeat and happy and pulled together that now when faced with the first moments away from her since arriving at the hospital, I felt like curling up into a ball and having my own temper tantrum.<br />
<br />
Back in her room, as she came out of sedation, Eva moaned and winced in pain. Cuddling her in bed I told her I wished it could have been me going through all of this, rather than her. Without a hint of malice she sighed and said, "Mama? I kind of wish it had been you too." Made me smile. "That's my girl," I thought to myself. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Post-op Eva feels pretty crappy</td></tr>
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We didn't find out until late Wednesday that the preliminary pathology report said that the mass on her liver was an abscess, not a tumor. This was the best possible news we were told, particularly in this situation. Dr. Doby, who had quickly become Eva's favorite, looked relieved and said she was pleasantly surprised at the outcome. This meant that we could go home the next day with IV antibiotics, probably for 6 weeks we were told, because they were unable to drain the abscess. <br />
<br />
Walking out of the hospital and breathing what felt like free air for the first time in a week rejuvenated my spirit. I sat down in the car and melted into the seat as the tension slowly left, leaving in its wake a deflated me. Tired and wilted, but with a smile. I felt exhausted by the "<a href="http://www.designmom.com/2013/08/emotional-labor/">emotional labor</a>" of the experience, and as we drove away, the ripped down scaffolding that had been keeping me together left me a muddled mess of weepy jello.<br />
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Trev commented on the drive home that he was happy to finally stop feeling guilty. No matter where he was, he felt like he was in the wrong place. When he was at the hospital he felt like he should be at work, trying to make a paycheck for what was sure to be a mountain of hospital bills coming our way. When he was at work, he felt like he should be home with the kids who perhaps needed at least one parent around. Being at home, he worried about not being with us at the hospital. <br />
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As I considered this, I felt bad for poor Trev and how torn he felt all week. I realized then that from the moment I climbed into bed with Eva, I felt like I was where I should be. I never felt torn or guilty, which anyone who knows me well knows that I am very talented at hauling around excess guilt. That in and of itself was a tender mercy for me. Through it all we have felt buoyed up and supported by the many friends and family members who have expressed love and concern. Hopefully it's all downhill from here. <br />
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janelle perkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12796604357588375744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643768655288076389.post-81076590645271676172013-09-05T19:10:00.000-07:002013-09-05T19:10:05.782-07:00Throwback Thursday: House For Sale<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A few years ago we woke up on an April morning to a "For Sale" sign in our front yard. The listed price of the house was clearly displayed: $100, sold by esteemed real estate agent Dwight Schrute. The best part of the sign was where the "by owner" was replaced by "by neighbors." Of course it was April fools day and some of our funny friends played this clever prank on us. Funny right? </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Birdie and I and the "For Sale" Sign</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The funniest part of the prank came throughout the day. If you would have asked me if anyone would take the sign seriously, I would have guessed not. We left it up all day because it was<i> awesome</i>. It attracted a few unexpected visitors. The best was the twenty-something-year-old who knocked on my door with his wallet in hand. He seemed disappointed when I told him it was merely an April fools day prank. Here he was thinking he'd landed his first real estate deal and I had to dispatch him to that sad reality that although our house is not the most valuable home ever, it was worth at least $200 <i>or more</i>. Nellie had several great encounters due to our sign also. Guess it goes to show you it wasn't a very good joke after all. A good joke never needs to be explained. </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14212300609596680037noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643768655288076389.post-19479688494636222262013-09-03T20:55:00.003-07:002013-10-06T18:45:16.763-07:00Tubby Tuesday: Moochies<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Welcome to Tubby Tuesdays! One thing I really like is food. I mean, I really really like food. When I work out, it's because I want to be able to eat more food. When I don't work out, I still eat a lot of food. There are a lot of great places that I have eaten at and wish I would have known about them sooner. Think of Tubby Tuesdays not as a review, but as an unpaid whole-hearted endorsement of places that could change your food life FOR-E-VER! With installment number one I give you Moochies.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Moochies: It's not much to look at...but boy oh boy!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.moochiesmeatballs.com/" target="_blank">Moochies</a> is like a secret restaurant that isn't really a secret at all, thanks to Diners, Drive-inns, and Dives. Still, there are an alarming number of people who have never had the privilege of having a Moochies steak sandwich, dripping with Jumpin' Jalapeño Sauce charging through their lips! </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was introduced to Moochies a couple of years ago. It had already been featured on DDD, so we were far from the first to discover this mecca of meatball. Some buddies from work told me I had to try it, so we were off to Salt Lake. Moochies original location is on 800 South and around 200 East. It was originally a pottery studio, but the owners wife decided she was going to sell some great sandwiches and Moochies was born. When I first walked in I figured the food <i>must</i> be great, because the place was as hole in the wall as I had ever seen. Exposed brick in places on the wall, eclectic decor that wasn't even kitschy, and not enough seating for half the people in line (I soon learned that Moochies has a house next door that provides extra seating so--no worries. Also: their bathroom has a bathtub that is filled with dirt and has plants growing in it--<i>when's the last time your favorite restaurant did that?</i>)</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBxgFzhC_UCO9n4tDbSZyBnWJOXjSemwOgX8_ObnomS7o_1zTh0ZirWWrcEIyPF1YGRssTKf34_fzMWRgWz9qRKXNGbyE6askZTy8QCcylbo42MbU59Y49-Fq_JqCUk85AHpP2haWJ6cs/s1600/Moochies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBxgFzhC_UCO9n4tDbSZyBnWJOXjSemwOgX8_ObnomS7o_1zTh0ZirWWrcEIyPF1YGRssTKf34_fzMWRgWz9qRKXNGbyE6askZTy8QCcylbo42MbU59Y49-Fq_JqCUk85AHpP2haWJ6cs/s400/Moochies.jpg" width="300" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Picture of Moochies Food (Courtesy of UrbanSpoon)</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We placed our order, I ordered a 12" steak sandwich with peppers and mushrooms added, one of my buddies ordered the 12" meatball and we split it so we both got half of one. The steak sandwich was great. Pretty much what I'd expected, good meat, good peppers and onions on pretty good bread. What I didn't expect was Moochie's Jumpin' Jalapeño Sauce that changed the way I eat. It is a creamy sauce that seems to be mayo based with diced jalapeños in it (very hard to properly duplicate by the way). I'm not sure if that sounds good to you or not, but you owe it to yourself and your posterity to try it at least once! It's wonderful and flavorful and makes EVERYTHING I've tried it on taste better. Really. I bought a bottle and have tried to always keep a full one in the fridge at home. This is difficult because it is so good that I will eat when I'm not really hungry anymore just to have more sauce. (The best foods that I have had Moochies sauce on are: pizza, cold pizza, grilled cheese, and quesadillas--I tried it on a donut once as a dare from Birdie (who was delighted and grossed out at the same time) and it was even good there!)</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Two week supply of Moochie Sauce</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The meatball sandwich was a masterpiece as well. The meatballs are HUGE and messy and amazing. It goes without saying that it also goes wonderful with Moochies sauce. A few visits down the road we discovered fried ravioli (good discovery Nellie!) and it's only enhanced the Moochies experience. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A couple of months ago they opened a second restaurant in Midvale (about 7700 South State), I visited and was just as pleased with this location! I had a chance to talk with the owner for the briefest of moments and was able to beg him to open a location in Happy Valley. He also told me they had toyed with the idea of selling Moochie sauce in one gallon jugs--here's hoping. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Overall, Moochies is high on my list of places to recommend. I'm not sure I've enjoyed a sandwich more consistently over many, many visits, but as Lavar Burton used to say on Reading Rainbow: don't just take my word for it!</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Post Script: I recently hit a high-water mark in my parenting life. I was making quesadillas for lunch with the kids. When it came time to eat I couldn't find my Moochies sauce. Scott ran down to his room to grab the bottle out of his locker. I was confused about why it was down there and inquired if I had somehow left it in the basement. Turns out, Scott had thought it would be funny to hide it until I wanted it-- he felt terrible when I told him that it was now unsafe to consume because it hadn't been refrigerated. I was proud because I was able to laugh and didn't get mad at a mistake my awesome son had made. (You would think it was awesome if you'd had the sauce--promise).</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Acknowledgement: Jake Kuresa is the man responsible for my Moochie's introduction--for that I thank you. Oh, and thanks for stopping that guy that would have tackled John Beck before he could complete the now famous Beck-to-Harline pass to win the 2006 BYU Utah game.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/54/591451/restaurant/East-Central/Moochies-Meatballs-More-Salt-Lake-City"><img alt="Moochie's Meatballs & More on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/591451/minilink.gif" style="border: none; height: 36px; width: 130px;" /></a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14212300609596680037noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643768655288076389.post-52422113432762478842013-09-02T20:47:00.001-07:002013-09-03T09:15:24.141-07:00Teaching Kids to Do Hard Things<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Still Smiling: after the race</td></tr>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today Tutty Tutt ran a 5K by my side. We Ran in the Payson Onion Days race along with 200-300 others. We were joined by my dad and two of my three brothers. I pushed Birdie along in the jogging stroller. When we talked about Scott running, I was concerned about his ability to finish a 5K, it had been a few months since he had run a mile. With no training, I gave him the only advice I could think to share: I told him it would be hard, that it would hurt, but if he stopped to walk that it would prolong his agony. I'm sure some of you would wonder about me so advising my eleven year old son. There are many proponents who feel like kids are pushed to do too much, but I don't see it that way.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When I was in high school I decided to run cross country. It was a lot of fun being on the team and I enjoyed the friendships, but it taught me some valuable life lessons as well. In preparation for our season, we would meet on summer mornings to run as a group. As a sophomore-to-be, I was not slated to run varsity, and would not factor much into the team. On quite a few of our runs I would wait until I felt some pain and would walk for a while before I ran again.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One day my teammate Sam mentioned to me that I was cheating myself by walking. He told me that <i>everyone</i> on the team felt like walking, but actually walking did not help to train the body to be comfortable with higher levels of pain. I'm not sure Sam ever realized the impact of those few words on me. I'm certain it seemed obvious to him and somewhere inside I knew those truths as well. Being called out ended up elevating my "running career" substantially.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today as Scott and I ran, I could see him go through cycles and stages. There were times when he told me he couldn't do it. Other points where what he was accomplishing seemed to excite him. There were times where he was in so much pain that he was a little unpleasant with me, but he never stopped to walk. He wanted with every part of his body to stop, but he kept going on. He <i>did</i> a very hard thing and taught himself someone about what <i>he</i> is capable of.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A few years ago We had a wonderful neighbor that is very special to our family. After breaking down some walls we got to a point where we would mow her lawn in the summertime. Scott wanted to help so we began by having him walk with me behind him helping to guide him with the mower. Eventually he became proficient enough that he could do it himself. In between starting and mastering lawn mowing was a lot of tough times. He would get discouraged by a lack of progress or would just be flat-out exhausted. When he was frustrated, he continued on with encouragement from us. Today he mows either our front or back lawn weekly and does a great job. He has mastered something that many kids his age have not yet, because he was willing to do something that was hard for him.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Why challenge him? Why ask him to do hard things? Is it because I don't want to do the work myself? Maybe a little. The reality is I know that life is hard. I know there will come a point where he won't have me by his side to teach him to work and to push outside of his comfort zone. When that time comes I want him to be capable and competent. Most importantly he needs to know the agony that success requires. Very few success stories come from people who didn't first work and persevere through plenty of hard situations.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We don't do our children any favors by coddling them. We can show love and confidence in them. We can teach them how to do hard things. We can work side by side with them. Until we are willing to let them struggle and pay a price, they will never truly grow. Adversity does not build character, it simply shows what is already there. It is our job as parents to shepherd our families through difficult circumstances so they can learn to do hard things. When they know for themselves that life is hard, but they can succeed and do hard things their dependence on parents diminishes.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lulu, Birdie, and Tutty Tutt</td></tr>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today's race was a chance for Scott to learn something about himself and he did learn. Tomorrow will bring its own challenges and circumstances, we will not rescue him from his trouble, we will help him work through it himself. When he stumbles or needs encouragement we will be there to cheer him on. When he fails on occasion we will teach him that true failure comes when we stop trying to succeed. I'm proud of Scott and I did feel sympathy for him as he gingerly walked down the stairs this evening to go to bed. That pain that he earned is real.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14212300609596680037noreply@blogger.com0