Now Just What the Heck Kind Of Color is That

Reason Number 2 to distance myself from laundry...

I thought I put in a batch of whites...

Yes, I know I did.

(My proof...these are our garments. I don't even know if you can wear this color in the temple.)

Now just what the HECK color is this?

Cream? No!

Ivory? No!

Pink? No!

Off White? No!

White? Heck NO!

Ugly? Yes!

What have I done?

Stop Bugging Me

I will never quite understand all the reasons and purposes for bugs and creatures...I know, I know it is all part of the food web...but really?? The other day while dusting by the windowsill, I noticed little specks of dust that appeared to be moving. They were moving. As I looked at all the many specks that were moving, I had to wonder what their difference in this great big universe they would make.Worms, spiders, ants, mosquitos...why do they have to be so darn creepy?

I remember waking up in the middle of the night. There upon my chest was a daddy long leg crawling towards my face. What if I had not awakened? Would it have found it's spindley legs in my mouth.

Would it have crawled into my hair and layed spider eggs? Gee for that matter, I wonder how many spiders I have eaten in the night. It made going to sleep at night a little unnerving.

Some of the creepiest fluttering things were moths. Attracted to the light, summer evenings on the patio meant a company of moths. Something silvery about their wings would leave a shine behind. I can still see Michelle in our bedroom trying to get up the courage to kill a moth on the closet door. There would be no sleeping with that thing alive.

One evening, I was playing with the Beck girls. Mom was at home making carameled apples.

She promised to let us know the moment they were ready. Sure enough, mom stepped out on the front step and called, "Girls, the caramel apples are ready!" I was not going to wait. I high tailed it towards home..running down the street. I was excited and squealing with my mouth wide open. It was a summer evening and the bugs were out. I felt something hit the back of my throat with force. It gagged me, it choked me and I was forced to cough it up and out. There in my hand was the remains of a big gray moth. It sent the bijibbers down my spine. I couldn't bear the thought that part of that moth went down my throat. I was literally having butterflies in my tummy. Needless to say, I completely lost my appetite for the carameled apples.

There was the supposed to be great but innocently frightening trip to Seattle with my grandparents. My family and grandparents stayed with grandpa's sister. It was a strange home and they were strange people to me. A big group went into town. It would be the perfect time for me to shower and get cleaned up and ready for bed. I went into the bathroom and there bumping from light to light and mirrior to mirror was the biggest ugliest moth. It made my stomach curdle. I tried to keep my eyes on it at all times so as not to be taken by surprise. As soon as I went to the bathroom, I would have my dad come kill the moth for me.

I went to sit down on the toilet. I felt this awful flutter against my behind. I had trapped that doggone moth in the toilet when I sat down. Quickly, I jumped up and off the toilet. I didn't even care that my pants were not all the way up. I flew out of there faster than that moth could ever fly. That would set the tone for the rest of this creepy trip.

I wish I could say that the previous were the only disturbing, hair raising stories about bugs. They have been up my nose, in my food, smothered on windshields, crawling, creeping, biting, stinging...
Brigham Young University had a long weeked. A friend of mine had mentioned that she had never been to Jackson Hole. I do not have fingers and toes enough to count the numerous times that I had been there. I felt confident that I could be the perfect tour guide. We would leave on Friday and stay in Idaho Falls at my home.  Then arise early the following morning and make way to Jackson Hole. Azure blue skies complimented the vibrant colors of autumn leaves. The air was crisp and so it was only natural that we breathe it all in. Our windows were rolled down and the wind blew through our hair (a bit too loud for good conversation). I was in college which meant going a bit over the speed limit was the expected. With a smile on my face we continued in the direction of our destination...I pictured a glamorous self driving the coast to meet up wit a handsome gent...kind of like the movies. My vision came to an abrupt halt all of the sudden I felt this sharp piercing thud against my forehead and drop into my lap? Surely a passing vehicle had kicked up a rock? a piece of glass? My friend saw in and we both heard it. There upon my lap was a huge, black, very dead fly. Of course I freaked, but for whatever the reason, felt embarrassment. How could my forehead be the means for killing a fly? I also had to remind myself that my forehead hit that fly at 65 plus miles per hour. I peered in the mirror...not to see glamour, but fly guts.

Just a little food for thought...I was taking my dog Da Vinci out to do his duty. There on every pile of poop were flies crawling. Absolutely sinister !!!

What the Nail?

Rarely do I get complimented on things of beauty but there are two things as of recent that have drawn the attention and request of others. My nails and my curled hair. I had pretty much given up on having the glamorous nails. I had certainly struggled in the past with my attempts to maintain and wear fake nails. I had a student that came to school each day with lovely nails. Her mother had the talent and ability to do them and without cost to my student. It was nearing the Christmas Season and I envisioned the crimson red, perfectly polished nails. I found myself strolling down the cosmetic aisles looking at the numerous sets of fake nails and polishes. Something caught my eye..."imPRESS nails." I was curious about this unusual package. As I read the instructions, I discovered that superglue was not even needed. With these nails, there was a sticker that peeled off the back and then was placed upon my real nail. I couldn't get over how easy and how beautiful these nails of mine appeared. People started to comment. I immediately shared my great find with those inquiring. I also included a tip of my own...
TIP: carry the extra nails in your purse and in the event of an emergency...some nail glue to replace one that may happen to lift. This was my insurance policy. For the most part, they rarely came off until I took them off...but there were two occasions that NAIL mishap found it's way back into my life.

The first one I am quite embarrassed to share. I had a deviated septum which required surgery years ago. Since then, my sinus' have become oh so dry. My Ear Nose Throat Doctor told me to take a swab and but bacitiracin inside the nostril. I had run out of swabs so I dabbed a little on my finger and yes placed it up inside my nostril. I went about my day. Later on, I looked down to discover that one of my nails was missing. I retraced every step wanting to fix those nails and return to glamor. Still, nothing appeared. It wasn't long before I wondered at the possibility of it coming off inside my nose. Surely I would know about that. But what if I didn't know...what would happen? Would it go to my brain? Would it travel my blood veins and plunge to my heart. I began to panic. There was only one thing to do...BLOW!!! I grabbed a kleenex and with all my might blew the heck out of my nose. Sure enough, there was the missing nail as bright and pretty as ever.

Weeks had passed. The nails still looked great. I even received a few extra sets and colors from Santa Claus in my stocking. Noah was in desperate need of some winter wear. His snow pants barely covered his knees. Rick knew of a place on State street. The family piled in the car and off we went. I could not get over all the fun and unusual things that were there to keep the body warm. Handmade Sherpa Hats, Avalanche Kits, Neoprene Face Masks, Toe Warmers, Lip Care and the like. I was especially intrigued by some hats and some gloves. I must have tried on a dozen pair of the most wonderful soft, warm, cozy gloves. If I had had the need and the extra funds...I would have purchased a pair right then and there...but we were here for Noah. On the ride home, I glanced down and once again...a missing nail. It would have been all too easy with all the slipping on and off of the gloves for a nail to come off with it. PIT in my stomach...some poor soul like me is going to be intrigued and try on numerous gloves. Some poor soul is going to discover someone elses missing nail in the finger of one of those gloves. Some poor soul is going to freak out and maybe complain to the store. Oh dread...when will I learn?

Apparently not anytime soon. I am sporting a black set of shiny nails even as I type.

Lovely Tulips Never Die

There is nothing that can brighten up a room like yellow flowers. My co-teacher and friend in our room had brought back some of the most gorgeous tulips from an all too short weekend. The moment I walked into our classroom, I was cheered by the vase of yellow tulips. (My friend loves to work in her yard and garden. Her kind soul is always sharing her harvest with me...so this was not an unusual occurrence) I commented on their radiance. Her responce was simple, "I thought we could use a little color to brighten up the room." I agreed as I silently gazed...I just could not get over the perfection of the blooms. Thought: "I must bring my camera tomorrow...I hope they will last."

Sure enough, day two appeared every bit as exquisite as the day before. My friend was not in the room and so I took advantage of this photo opportunity. "Click" "Snap" "Click...Click Click" I did not dare touch them or rearrange them for fear petals would drop. I was more than pleased with the photographs I had taken. Day in and day out...the lovely tulips remained in their glory. I do not remember how many days had passed when I had walked over to see the tulips up close. As I glanced down I noticed that these flowers were not in a vase of water...but a vase of smooth stones !!! I still was not convinced. I timidly touched the petals and sure enough they were crispy, bendy, plastic flowers. I had been duped once again. 

First, it was the mockery and disbelief of my grandma watering a plant of plastic flowers so long ago. It was so obvious to me that her pot of flowers were an absolute imitation...plastic...fake. I could not get over the sheer amazement that she actually believed those flowers to be real. I did not have the heart to inform her. I knew the day of discovery was sure to come. I also knew I could never fall for something like that...plastic flowers. 

Then it was the wooden roses...I realized, no one was above trickery regardless of age and eyesight. 

It was beginning to shake my confidence. How many other imitations have I taken for real? Even as I type this, I wonder..."Were the rocks real or just fake?" I will have to check them on Tuesday.

I was beside myself in a humorous way to think that I really must be getting old. Later on during the week, the Groendyke family had gone downtown Salt Lake City. As we were passing one of the Trax Stops, I noticed the seagulls perched above. I commented to Noah..."look at all the birds waiting to ride the Trax." He replied, "Mom...those aren't real birds. Those are statues." My eyes remained fixated waiting for one of those darn birds to move. Nothing. As we passed other Trax Stops, I noticed the same arrangement of birds. "Really? Did I REALLY just believe they were real birds?" Once it had been pointed out, I was humbled with embarrassment. Now I began to question everything I saw. I was alone and driving waiting to get on the ramp to 215. I was stopped below the underpass. There above were perched several birds...none appeared to be moving. Thought: "No way...are you kidding me...they (whoever "they" are) place fake birds on the overpasses too? Just before the light turned green, I saw a few move. Now I felt silly that I thought the real birds were fake. How many times I had nonchalantly driven this route many times and never really paid that much attention to reality of the birds. I look over to the next car and wonder...do others spend there time thinking about these kind of things are do they even care?

Months later...I show up to work. The yellow plastic flowers remain in a vase of smooth rocks. I smile in part because they do brighten up the room, but mostly because of how captivated I was by what I thought was the beauty of nature. Admit it...they are lovely tulips.

One Reason Not to Do Laundry

Here is one reason

 I should probably distance myself

 from the task of laundry...

both sweater vests belong to Rick.

I washed the one on the right.