My photo
Utah, United States
One night while tucking Abby into bed she sweetly chimed, "good night! Sleep tight! Don't let the bed bites bug you!" I like her thinking. Sometimes life bites. The trick is to not let it bug you.

Monday, July 31, 2006

Hooray! I found a website that can replace the broken shredding attachment on my Salad Shooter. I thought all hope was lost. The Salad Shooter was a wedding gift, and I determined a couple of years ago that the life span of a wedding gift is about 10 years, so the fact that only the shredder has broken speaks volumes for the over-all quality of the appliance. (Actually, we received 2 Salad Shooters; one was a re-gift from some newlywed friends of ours which we promptly re-re-gifted. I know, we are- WERE- so tacky.) Scott and I are coming up on our 12th anniversary. My kitchen is in need of a major overhaul.

Whilst contemplating the concept of the Salad Shooter, I was reminded of a ridiculous list my slap-happy college roommates and I came up with in 1990, probably at 2am on a school night. While sober. I don't know how I'll explain half of my college era photographs when my kids discover them someday.

TOP 10 NASTIEST KITCHEN UTENSILS: (we used to be really into David Letterman)
10. Lemon zester
9. Egg slicer
8. Pizza slicer
7. Grapefruit spoon
6. Wire whisk
5. Dough hook (???)
4. Egg yolk separator
3. Corn cob holders
2. Lemon juicer
1. Melon baller

We were really grasping at straws for some of those. I don't quite know why I once found these items that are now very useful in my life worthy of the nasty list. I think we thought they all could inflict serious pain. Probably the fact that they existed and I had no use for them cracked me up. But then again, in Rexburg, Idaho, at 2am on a school night, probably hyped up on a huge Maverick mug of sugary pop and a recent viewing of David Letterman in my system, it was not uncommon to see humor in the absurd. Is it any wonder it took me 7 years to graduate from college? HA!!

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Today I post an homage to my dear friend, Apple Slice. I will call it
Tart du Fleur: The Black Bottom Pie
Never, Ever Judge a Book By Its Cover: You Might Regret It.
Or Not Know That You Should.

The Glendale 1st Ward had a huge population of kids when I was a member. I think there were 20 girls in my age group alone at one point. When I was a teenager, we had some pretty darn fun activities, and since I have always been a joiner, I never missed one.

In the midst of all of this churchy participation, like sometime during the fetal period of life, I became acquainted with Apple Slice. Maybe it was because we shared the same name, or it could have been because our birthdays were only a few days apart, we were commonly referred to in tandem and frequently found together. Slice and I set up for and attended dances together, bunked together at the youth conferences, planned for many a goofy slumber party and occasionally hung out after church. (In the name of full disclosure, I should mention that Apple Slice was also one of my bridesmaids. To use the Pasadena vernacular, we "homies.")

Every fun church activity costs money. I figured this out some time during my early adolescence. Back in the day, we held fundraisers to finance these activities. Apple Slice and I were, for all practical purposes, probably the most stalwart participants of these fundraisers. Some of these fundraisers were practical and relatively fun- the Stuffed Potato Dinners, Christmas Gift-wrapping, and "Heart-Attacking" homes for Valentine's Day. A few of the other ideas were probably, well, rather stupid (read "Beehive Babysitting Bonanza").

One of the more questionable of the fundraisers I recall was a bake sale-auction. I say questionable because, quite frankly, who really trusts the plate of brownies made by a 13 year old?!! Evidently several people did back then, and if anyone thinks they would now, please read on.

Apple Slice and I decided to combine efforts and approached the bake sale with anticipation. We knew we had to "put our shoulders to the wheel," so to speak. We would not be satisfied with entering an ordinary plate of snickerdoodles. Somehow we came up with a recipe for "Black Bottom Pie." Neither of us had ever tasted one, nor did we know what it was supposed to taste like (or look like, for that matter). This did not hinder us in any way.

We set about making the crust. Unable to detect the obvious canister of fresh flour on the counter, we located some ancient bag from the recesses of the pantry. After a good deal of time spent puttering about the kitchen, we rejoiced as we brought forth our masterful creation- a semblance of a pie crust. We marvelled over it and congratulated ourselves for it until, what did we see, but little brown spots embedded in the dough. Panicking, we each exclaimed something like "Weevils? We spent all that time laboring over this [pathetic excuse for a] pie crust, and there were weevils in that flour?" I remember looking at each other in bewilderment, each waiting for the other to state the obvious: "We can't start over now. That took too much time. We must carry on in the name of the cause." (Snort) Somehow we came to this conclusion, and we proceeded with the filling.

Now, if you read the ingredients in the recipe, you will note that one of the ingredients is rum. I'm sure we didn't use this. I don't even remember if we had any rum flavoring. But I think that the fact that the recipe even called for it probably made us feel like real rebels. As I recall, the filling may have been a bit lumpy. And the recipe we had called for a meringue topping, which ended up being dense and runny rather than light and fluffy. We became concerned that any Black Bottom Pie connoisseurs at the auction might call us on our mistake. In desperation, we stuck some marigolds from Apple Slice's yard into the center of the pie to distract from our inferior meringue and decided to give our dessert creation a different name. Apple Slice was studying French at the time, and we thought a French name would sound gourmet.

Off we went to the church, where we placed our "pie" on the auction table and labeled it "Tart du Fleur." A paper for bids was set in front of it, which we casually monitored throughout the evening. At some point one of us realized that there were more little buglets, this time coming out of the flowers and landing in the "meringue"! We did our best to nonchalantly pick them out, and then I think we attempted to hide from public view. Much to our astonishment, our pie took the highest bid of the evening: $27.00!

I think the really pathetic thing about this whole incident was that the bidders of the evening, knowing us and our moms, probably thought they were getting some kind of Molly Mormon delight. They certainly would have assumed that the pie would have been minimally, bug-free. And to top it off, we even received calls from the family that ended up with the pie, complimenting us on the delicious dessert and thanking us for it.

Ultimately, the lesson
that can be learned here
is not to trust the sweet and clean looks of the treat, nor that of those who made it! ***

For the record, Apple Slice is now an amazing cook who speaks French fluently. Tu es une tres bon fille

Monday, July 24, 2006

Happy Pioneer Day!

I have really enjoyed celebrating this year. There was a great broadcast with the Tabernacle Choir, the parade wasn't all that bad (tried not to make any comparisons to the Rose Parade this year... but it is hard to resist), we spent a lovely day up at Snowbird and then attended a neighborhood fireworks show where someone shot off some radical Wyoming (e.g. illegal) fireworks. Yiha! I was asking myself early on in the day how the Pioneers would have really wanted us to celebrate the day they first entered the Salt Lake Valley- 109 years later. I think we pretty much got it right, enjoying the fruits of their labors by whooping it up in the communities they founded. Today I am proud of my own Pioneer ancestors and proud to be a Utahn; if not by birth, by heritage and adoption.
Read up on your Mormon Pioneer history!

Sunday, July 23, 2006

I've been feeling guilty all week for admitting to not being able to get my own house clean.
So tonight, I am posting my excuse:

I know this is pathetic. I do love the little darlings, and they are occasionally good for a laugh. But they haven't yet caught the vision of the group effort. For example, after a week of sending Wesley downstairs with his folded laundry to put away in his room, I happened to notice a huge pile of socks and underwear on the floor behind his dresser. Apparently, in Wesley's mind, opening the door and chucking your articles across the room is just as good as walking to your dresser and opening a drawer. And I couldn't figure out why the boy kept complaining of no clean underwear. Ian has a similar problem: he doesn't enjoy being dressed, and he disrobes at odd hours, leaving partially or unused diapers here and there about the house. Last night Scott heard noises coming from his room. He entered to find Ian naked, sitting on the rail of the crib. (I realize that I am digressing. I guess I am hoping that the absurd circumstances that I am living in will make a case for my poor homemaking habits. I can hear the violins now.)

We are adjusting in some ways since Annie's birth, although I was reminded today of how much more we would enjoy church if it had a drive-thru window. Coming home we found that the AC was out- on the hottest day of the year. Tomorrow is Pioneer Day, a state holiday, and we will celebrate in the same manner as the original pioneers in 1847: burning up, but happy to be here.

Oh- and with putting children to work. heh heh...

Monday, July 17, 2006

I'm feelilng like a successful homemaker today, fulfilled and at peace in my tidy and fresh-smelling home; mainly because the cleaning ladies have been here. Heh heh...
I am admittedly not the best housekeeper. I am too easily distracted and prone to start more projects than I can realistically finish in a timely way. I have, however, enjoyed the housekeeping advice of a couple of cyber-domesticians:
the Happy Housewife and the the Fly Lady. I appreciate the humor and "we are all in this together" feel that these sites offer. Personally, any housekeeping advice I might give would always begin with "take a big whiff of Surf detergent, and call the cleaning ladies." (See "Could this be habit forming?" 6-21-06 blog.)

Sunday, July 16, 2006

Here is an action shot of Scott and me, frolicking with two of our adorable children at Lake Powell. Actually, we did just return from Lake Powell, but we vacation out of Bullfrog Marina, and this cool sand hill is on the Wahweap side of the lake in Arizona. We were there about 7 years ago, and apart from the fact that we had sand trapped in every orifice by the time we reached the bottom of the hill, it was really fun to climb up and run down. As for this year's trip, I am attempting to download video of Scott water skiing, but as of yet have not overcome my techno-stupidity and I'm still figuring it out.
In the meantime, here are a couple of shots of Scott on the golf cart at the church patriotic breakfast 2 Saturdays ago. I think he was the default grand marshall of the children's parade. Scott ended up driving
circles around the picnic pavillion among big wheels and scooters, picking up and dropping off kid passengers with each circumnavigation. I'm surprised the vehicle survived the event, after Scott and a few teenage boys drove it off the top of the highest hill at Falcon Park several times. I'm just glad we came away from the event without any injuries or arrests.

Thursday, July 06, 2006


1st and 2nd place winners Eric and Wesley. (Please forgive the poor photo quality. Scott took these pictures with his cell phone.)
According to the results recorded by a special "Pinewood Derby Scoring Program" which the official had designed for his laptop that was connected to the race track, the winning times were separated by.0200 seconds. Dads Stan and Scott scrutinized the race results and compared car building techniques. Sue and I shook our heads and comiserated over the amount of time and last-minute stress our husbands put into the cars. Eric's sister Kristen and Abby flirted with the contestants. Andrew and Ian spilled two root beers and one bag of popcorn, respectively. Annie was passed around the cultural hall. Fun was had by all, and the way Wesley is enjoying his medal, he might as well have placed in the Indy 500.
I realized tonight that with 3 boys, I could potentially be lookong at 10 more Pinewood Derbies. Heaven help me!

Tuesday, July 04, 2006

Larry and I wish you a Happy Independence Day! We will celebrate with watermelon, weenies, waving flags and water-skiing. The kids couldn't bear to wait until tonight to have our fireworks display, so Scott set up a great show in the middle of the street yesterday evening. We were glared at by a few drivers, but many neighbors enjoyed. We will be thinking of you guys on the bridge by the Rose Bowl, at Ground Zero, at the beach and in your backyards. God Bless America, and you, too.

Saturday, July 01, 2006

While listening to the broadcast of A Prairie Home Companion today, I was reminded that not only did I miss the broadcast last week, but I missed seeing Garrison LIVE here in Salt Lake City because I am lame and didn't find out he was coming until it was too late and all of the tickets were already sold out anyway. Luckily, the whole experience can be lived and re-lived, thanks to the miracle of modern technology. Make yourself some Powder Milk biscuits to enjoy while you listen. (No, I haven't seen the movie yet, but my folks and folks-in-law all give it a mess of stars. Bonus to you if you have seen it- feel free to leave a review. But only if it is a good one. I won't believe you if it isn't.)