This is the story of an almost iPhone

So once upon a time (this story actually happened back in July) Kolton had surfed behind the boat with his phone in his pocket. It was unknown whether his phone would survive the damage, so he started planning and plotting about the new phone he would get. Since we like to stay up on all the trends and be cool and stuff, he wanted to get himself a fancy little iPhone.

Fast forward to a few days later, Kolton had finally decided to get himself the iPhone even though his old water soaked phone was actually still working. (Don't ask me why, I've never quite understood the workings of that boy's mind) So he headed into town and got himself the phone. Honestly I did not even care what he did, but I did think it was strange that he was getting a new phone when his old one still worked. But I think it had something to do with the fact that the iPhone was on sale at the time and if there's one thing Kolton can't resist, it's a good deal. With his affinity for good deals we have found ourselves with many treasures that we neither wanted or needed until we found out we could get them for cheap and they became necessities. (A certain piano comes to mind...)

Anyway, so he got the phone he wanted. And from the minute he got home from town until the next morning all I heard from him was what a huge mistake he had made and how dumb he was and how he now wanted to return the phone he had had for less than 12 hours. Well lucky for him, he had to work so I was volunteered to drive to Rexburg and return the phone. 

The reasons Kolton wanted to return the phone. 

1. I don't deserve it. 

2. It's going to get dropped/wet/muddy/shattered/filled with hay leaves/ruined out at work. 

3. My old phone works fine. 

Now if you know me at all you will understand why and how much I DESPISE cell phone stores. If you do not, here is a noncomprehensive list. 

1. There is never anyone working there. Two people at most. 

2. The two people that are working there are almost always not super smart. 

3. The two nonbrilliant people that work there only know how to speak in some advanced cell phone technology language that I just do not understand. Their vocabulary includes words like:   fastest 3G network, specialized mybullfrog insurance plan, unlimited data plan, account numbers, etc. I do not know what these words mean. 

4. For some reason, even the simplest transaction seems to take at least an hour. I have never in my life gone in a cell phone store and gotten out of there in under an hour. Never. 

5. The two techie employees are always trying to talk me into things that I do not want to be talked into. And they put on the pressure. And they make me feel dumb. 

6. etc. 

Continuing on...

So now you may understand why Kolton was not exactly my favorite person in the world when HE volunteered ME to return the phone that I told HIM not to buy in the first place and that HE had bought less than 12 hours before. I really just don't know how I got mixed into this equation. 

I still don't know how it happened because I did put up a fight (including sharing with him my noncomprehensive list from above...except he got the comprehensive version) but somehow I found myself walking through the dreaded cell phone store doors.  

And the experience proved to be everything nightmares are made of and was just exactly as unpleasant as I knew it would be.

He owes me big time. 

Believe it or not, returning the phone took three different trips to three different cell phone stores before we finally got everything settled. We did not even OWN the phone as long as it took to RETURN the phone. 

But Kolton did get his old phone hooked up and a severe talking to from his wife about doing dumb things. 

And that's the end of the story.

Storm Riders

Last night at the last minute Kolton and I decided to take my dad's Harley for a spin around town. So we hopped on and away we went. 

 We didn't get too far down the road before we hit a bit of a rainstorm. The wind was blowing like crazy and the rain felt like tacks being thrown at us.

We heard some weather advisories come across the radio and decided to take a quick stop at the gas station to fuel up and see if the storm would pass as quickly as it had come on and we would be able to continue on to town. 

We sat in the gas station for about ten minutes and after some calls to family in Idaho Falls who said the weather was beautiful there, we decided to journey on.

 We hit a little patch of rain on the freeway, but other than that it was smooth sailing. 

We took the scenic route (more scenic than the freeway, anyway) and had ourselves a nice ole time. 

When we got into town we made a stop at our favorite Olive Garden for some chicken and shrimp carbonara, our dish of choice that we always split.

 After that we cruised around town for a little bit. The sun was warm, we had our music going and as we went around the roundabout I had the "we could be in a movie" feeling. 

Because everything was just that perfect.

We made a quick stop in at the mall which ended up being a little longer than we had planned because we were in search of some shoes to go with some church pants Kolton got for Easter. 

Of course we didn't find what we were looking for, because it is my belief that one of the cardinal rules of shopping is that if you are looking for something specific it somehow seems to magically vanish from all shopping venues no matter how many of that specific thing you have seen previously. 

I don't even know if that makes sense, but it happens to me All. The. Time. 

So after our quick stop at the mall ended up being a long-ish stop at the mall, when we finally emerged (with still no luck on the shoe front) we noticed it was getting pretty dark outside. This didn't worry us until we looked in the direction of the way home and noticed big black storm clouds brewing. 

We jumped on that bike and jetted outta there fast. When we pulled onto Sunnyside we had a clearer view of the angry black clouds and an even better view of the huge bolts of lightning that were not that far in the distance. 

I was a bit nervous, to say the least. 

But we just kept going and going and when we made it to the freeway, we were relieved the discover the storm was still a little ways off, and that we had the best seats in the house for a seriously awesome lightning show. 

Maybe not the safest seats in the house being that we were outside straddled on a motorbike, but I did have a pretty good view of the constant lightning and we cruised down the freeway. 

We hit a tiny bit of rain, but not too bad and we were feeling relieved again, until we turned in the direction of Monteview and saw the big storm clouds and even more lightning. 

I kept mentioning to Kolton that we could stop and have our parents pick us up, but we just kept going and I just kept getting texts from my mom warning us about the storm that had been moving in. 

We actually did okay until we hit the Monteview church and found ourselves in the middle of a downpour. The rain was pelting us, the windshield was covered in wet, and I was grateful I was able to at least duck my head and close my eyes. Kolton wasn't so lucky. 

I was so relieved when we finally got close to my parents house and found my dad out there with the shop door open and a big grin on his face as he watched us pull up sopping wet, at least one side of us was drenched, but the other side fared a little better.

Sure enough, by the time we had gotten everything situated and walked out of the shop, the rain had completely stopped. 

Good night, that was sure an adventure we won't be forgetting anytime soon!

Bloody H-E-Double Hockey Sticks

So the other day we were driving into town to meet up with my parents for dinner, run some errands, go grocery shopping, and other unpleasant such things. (minus the part where we met up with my parents. That was pleasant of course!)

So we are on the freeway about ten or so minutes out of town and I started complaining to Kolton about how badly I needed to blow my nose but there were exactly zero kleenex in my car. I had checked every pocket and nook and cranny but there were none.

I've been recovering from a death cold for the third time already this year. I think it's time to start using hand sanitizer on a regular basis! Those germy kids at school...

 

So I don't want to be completely gross, but for lack of kleenex and being sick of sniffing, I finally reached for a piece of paper on the floor and used that instead.

Gross.

and almost completely ineffective.

 

As if that wasn't bad enough, suddenly I had an unstoppable bloody nose. Yuck! And no kleenexes in sight. So I start ripping the same piece of paper into chunks and put it up to my nose to staunch the flow. Then I lean my seat way back and order Kolton to get off the first exit and to the nearest gas station.

I didn't have to tell him twice. He put the pedal to the medal and got us to a gas station within minutes. Then he jumped out of the car and ran into the men's bathroom and stole me a roll of toilet paper. By this time my nosebleed has mostly stopped and now I have dried blood all over my nose and mouth and cheeks and it was real nasty but also really funny.

And I really don't know why these kind of things always happen to me.

Maybe to remind myself not to take life so seriously...

I dunno. 

It's a Good Thing I Love Him

So since I started Student Teaching I have been a bit busy and super unmotivated to cook dinner. I had a hunch that this was going to happen and therefore spent a couple days during Christmas Break making up some freezer meals to stick in the crockpot or oven after a long day at school.

 

When Kolton saw me making these meals he made the comment that maybe I shouldn't stockpile so many because we didn't know for sure if we'd actually like it and he wanted to avoid a freezer full of unwanted meals. I didn't listen to closely to him because I figured having a meal that we had to choke down might at least be marginally better than Cheerios for dinner.

 

In truth, we have liked many of the meals that I made and they have been super nice to have around. However, (of course) one night I had stuck some honey, soy sauce, can't even remember the rest of the weird ingredients, chicken in the crockpot. It smelled okay when I got home and I wasn't as worried about it as I had been when I had prepped it that morning.

 

Kolton didn't so much like it, however. He informed me that the chicken looked too much like the formaldehyde soaked body parts he had dealt with in his cadaver lab at school to be edible.

 

Honestly, the chicken wasn't my favorite but it was fine. He wouldn't eat more than two bites.

I was tempted to be a little hurt or offended until I remembered (or was reminded) that he eats everything and never complains about the taste. If he wasn't eating this meal, it must really bring back unpleasant memories.

So I let it slide.

And I have no idea what I'm going to do with the other bag of frozen honey/soy sauce chicken sitting in our freezer. 

the fourth

Even though the Fourth of July was quite a long time ago I still feel the need to record our activities. For future generations, ya know?

Anyway.

We went back and forth ten million times on what exactly our plans were for the fourth. Kolton was done with hay so that wasn't messing up our plans, but me going to school sure was.

We finally ended up going with Kolton's family on a Razr ride up to Packsaddle Lake.  And we had so much fun!

At the very last minute I packed our swimsuits as a precaution. I thought we'd be doing a lot of Razr riding and very little (if any at all) swimming. But it was so dang dusty that we just stayed at the lake, had a nice little picnic, and swam.

We were so dirty after the ride to the lake. I don't know if you can see it, but our faces were filthy.

The kidlings had a nice time playing in the dirt and freezing water.

                                                   Taven

Lily wasn't loving the water

                                               Madison was!

There was even a rope swing and "diving board" for the big kids to play on.

Teagan on the "diving board"

Kolton was being a bit too brave for my liking.

Tyson

                                                         Ethan

And I stayed in character and was a big ole wanny like usual. I did finally go off the rope swing but it took four minutes of persuasion and crying and wanny-ing before I finally just did it. We have video proof of the whole ordeal unfortunately. My voice gets high pitched and shaky when I'm scared to death. I was begging Kolton to just go before me (even though he'd been four times already) and it finally took Bear standing behind me and letting me know that the only way I was getting off that log was by way of rope swing for me to cowboy up.

I was near tears at this point while trying to convince Kolton to just let me climb down. It doesn't look that scary, but it WAS! for me at least. no one else really seemed to have any trouble with it.

                                         

After that near death experience it was about time to head home. So we packed up and headed out of there getting equally as dirty on the way home.

We even got to see the fireworks. iIm like a little kid when it comes to fireworks and let Kolton know that there was no way I was missing out on the fireworks. So on the way home we were leaving the gas station and saw a little Rexburg show going on so we pulled off to the side of the road and watched for about ten minutes before heading home. I got my firework fix to top off a perfect fourth.

things that crack me up lately

Do you ever have those moments where you are in a solemn place (or maybe a not-so-solemn place, but definitely somewhere where it would be considered socially unacceptable to burst out laughing for no reason) and you remember something funny that happened the day before, a month before, or five years before, and this memory just slays you and it takes all your willpower to hold in your laughter?

I do.

Quite frequently.
I'm going to share these stories with you, but I have to warn you. I think they're the you-had-to-be-there kind of stories.
Nonetheless....

One of these memories is from back in high school. My not-so-trusty car was getting fixed and I was stuck with an old pink/magenta-ish Nissan to drive while my car was getting fixed.

My friends affectionately named the car "The Ghetto Hoe" and I instantly became the coolest girl in school...still trying to figure out the connection there.
As you can see from the lovely picture, everyone wanted a turn to drive the ghetto hoe.
I got in trouble a few times when my parents saw the ghetto hoe driving down the highway Jayci-less.
This was West Jefferson High School and I didn't exactly lock my car...or take the keys out of the ignition, So peeps would just hop in and take it for a spin.
When I got my real car back, I got a lot of questions about what had happened to the ghetto hoe.
Unfortunately her speedometer had issues (as in, it didn't work at all) so she made me a little nervous to drive.
Honestly, I don't even know where she is now, but maybe I can talk Kolton into taking us for a spin sometime.

Memory number two is also from high school. My senior year I somehow got the defective locker.
Defective as in there was no lock.
Defective as in there was no lock, and there was a giant hole in my locker door where the missing lock would have been.
iIdidn't mind so much. It beat having to remember a combination.
About halfway through the year, I was joking with Coach K. about my locker. I mentioned my calculus teacher and how when she had issued us those fancy graphing calculators at the beginning of the year she had warned us that if we lost our calculator for any reason, we owed the school 100 dolla bills ya'll.
In my joking sesh with Coach K. I mentioned that I hoped someone would steal my calculator so I could blame it on the school because my locker had no lock.
The next day I arrived at school, swung my locker open, and just stared inside in confusion.
My locker was empty.
All my books, tablets, pencils, and all the other junk was just...gone.
Everything except my fancy graphing calculator.
It was sitting all by its lonesome on the locker shelf.

It took me a minute to process all of this, but when it finally did make it all the way through my brain, I couldn't help but laugh out loud.
Sure enough, when I snuck into Coach K.'s room, there were all my books, tablets, pencils, and other junk in a box beside his desk. (by other junk, I mean a cooking pot, a juice mixer, a raincoat, etc.)
So for the rest of the year my locker stayed empty and between classes I would run to Coach K.'s room to my other locker.
We got a lot of laughs out of this prank, he especially found all my extra junk strange.
In my yearbook he signed,
"I knew I should have turned you in when I found "pot" in your locker"
Oh my, those really were the bad ole days, man.

Whenever I remember those two (and many other) little incidents they without fail put a smile on my face.
I love it!

The Humiliation Chronicles: Why I don't do nice things

So a couple in our ward that we are friends with recently had a baby.

We decided to take them dinner one night.

We decided to take them dinner one freezy, rainy, icy night.

So I whipped up a little sumin-sumin and we got ready to head across the sidewalk to their apartment.

As we were walking out the door, Kolton was given the two plates of food and I decided real quick to stick some brownies on another plate.

After a period of indecision, I decided to put the brownies on a not-so-nice plate just in case.

(Can you see where this is going?)

So we head out the door, down the stairs, and we are halfway across the sidewalk when Kolton says,

"Hey, be careful, it's pretty sli-"

but it was too late.

His sentence was punctuated by the sound of me crashing/landing on the sidewalk  ice rink.

I didn't even have time to react, I just smacked that layer of ice like my life depended on it.

The plate broke.

And not just a-few-chunks broke,

The completely-shattered-miniscule-pieces-of-glass kind of broke.

I would know.

I picked some of those miniscule pieces of glass out of my hand after the shock wore off.

The brownies-my favorite kind of brownies-were now sitting in that pile of glass

So I'm just chillin there on the sidewalk on my hands and knees seconds after the smack and the shatter, Trying to catch my breath with Kolton trying to attend to me when the friends pull into our complex (the wife had gone to pick up the husband from work)

So I slowly get up, mumble a breathless "I'm okay" to Kolton and walk towards our friends who are just getting out of the car. The husband asks me if I'm alright and Kolton explains what happened (I'm still trying to catch my breath. but mostly trying not to cry) and about how the brownies are now just chillin on the sidewalk, plateless.

The guy says, "Oh that's okay, it's just ice!" runs over to the brownies and take a big bite out of one. (This would have cracked me up if I hadn't been focusing so hard on trying not to lose it right there on their doorstep).

Just to defend myself here, I'm not really one to cry at an injury (knock on wood) but it was the someone-just-smacked-you-straight-on-the-nose-and-your-eyes-are-watering-and-you-can't-do-anything-about-it kind of cry.

So we chatted for a second on the doorstep, but all I really wanted to do was go home, inspect my throbbing knee, release a few of those tears, and restore some of my pride that had shattered along with the plate.

Sweet Kolton cleaned up the glass/brownie mess while I  did the afore-mentioned things. My knee had already started to swell and was forming into a dark bruised lump.

The next day I went to kneel next to a second grader's desk and let out an audible gasp when I knelt on the wrong knee. Ouch!

Honestly, this incident happened about three weeks ago and if I happen to put too much weight on my knee it's still a little tender.

And that is why I don't do nice things.

i married him for his handiness

So a really funny thing happened this morning.

We rolled out of bed about half an hour later than we should have (call me lazy but I just really don't think alarm clocks should work before seven) So we were hustling a little bit to get to class on time. I decided to run out to start my car to get it to defrost a little bit (this cold weather is killing me man! I just feel so unprepared for the freezing-ness).

So I'm running to the door in  my usual start-the-car-in-the-morning attire (my tight, tight, unattractive leggings I wear under my dress pants, a shade shirt, and boots. Kolton shakes his head at me every time I leave the house in this outift. He's slightly embarrassed of/for me.)

I reach the door, try to twist the doorknob and.....

Nothin.

So I try again.

and again.

and again.

and again.

Nothin.

The doorknob will not budge. There's no twisting action or anything going on here.

So I try to mess with the unlock device.

Still nothing.

So I did the only thing I could think to do.

Cried.

Just kidding! I politely asked Kolton if he could come see what the heck was going on with the door.

So Kolton walked to the door, tried to twist the doorknob and experienced the same confusion I had. (see above situation for all the details)

After a little pushing and shoving and unnecessary roughness toward the door and more futile twisting on the doorknob, we just looked at each other. 

And looked at the door.

And looked back at each other. 

Then we decided that we may as well enjoy our prison sentence, jumped back into bed, and watched movies the rest of the day. 

Not really.

But I considered it for about half a second. 

Instead Kolton pulled out his handy dandy drill and went to town taking off the doorknob. After a little more finagling with the inner workings of the doorknob-I was obviously no help with this; I decided it would be a better use of my time to put on some actual clothes just in case Kolton's finagling actually worked. 

Unfortunately, he is a very good finagler, the door was working in no time, and we had to go to school.

Bummer dude.

But it was still a nice adventure to begin the day with.

you know what i hate?

When I spend money on a book that I'm really excited about and then I start reading...and I'm not so excited anymore.

But to back up a little bit...I forgot to tell an exciting story.

When I was about thirteen years old, my room was a mess. like, all the time. Occasionally I would pay it some attention, and when I did, I was always rewarded for my efforts. Without fail, every time I would clean my room I would find loose change on the floor, on the dresser, on the desk, on my nightstand...pretty much everywhere.

It would just be a nickel or a dime, so nothing big, but then I had a vision.

And I walked into the storage room and grabbed a big ole mason jar, set it on my desk, and dropped that nickel in the jar.

For the next seven years (years!) every time I found any spare change I would toss it in my jar. Occasionally I even cleaned out my wallet (this was even more seldom than cleaning my room)  and would toss all the change in the jar, just so I could see some progress.

I determined early on that this money would go toward a "book fund" and that when I filled the jar all the way up to the tippy top, I could go shopping.

Fast forward seven years.

I'm married now, still don't clean my room, and have still contributed to my little jar. It's quite heavy now and kind of a pain to lug around.

So one day I'm sitting in our kitchen doing homework when Kolton lugs this jar out to the table and is just beginning the process of dumping the jar of coins onto the table when he notices the horrified expression on my face.

"What. are you doing. with my jar." I calmly asked him.

"Well, I thought we could the quarters for our laundry..." he says as he gives me a funny look.

At this point I start shaking my head.

"No. NO honey. That money is not for laundry." I then tell him the whole long boring story I just shared with you about how that money jar came to be. And of course I emphasize that whole seven years thing. "Seven years, honey. I've been saving that money for seven years."

He just shakes his head at me and returns the "book fund" to it's rightful place on our dresser and tells me that he'll cash it in tomorrow. I give him the go ahead and he ends our conversation by saying something along the lines of "...It's most nickels and dimes. iIll bet it only has twenty bucks in it, and that's probably not going to get you far."

I just waved him off and breathed a sigh of relief.

And the next day I was shocked to see how this:

turned into this:

BAM!

$103. 47 to be exact.

Then I got the brilliant idea to shop at the secondhand bookstore where the books are cheap and therefore extensively add to my collection.

It was a beautiful day.

So I went to the bookstore and that place seriously

stresses.

me.

out

There are just millions and millions of books and I just didn't know where to begin. It's the kind of place that you'd have to spend hours in, just to browse.

But I did finally end up with a hefty stack of books.

And that's where my original story begins...

So while in the bookstore browsing the millions of books, I found a copy of the book Wicked. I bought it without giving it a second thought because first of all- I think it was six dollars, and second of all-I went to the play in NYC and fell in love with it.

But alas, I started reading it the other day and I kind of secretly hate it.

a lot.

But I just keep reading it because I just keep thinking It'll come back and redeem itself.

And plus, I spent six whole dollars that took seven years to save on it. I just can't abandon it, so I keep reading through my disappointment.

And I'll probably finish the dang thing too which is such a waste of valuable reading time.

ah well...

the things i do for you.

Last Saturday, dear Kolton and I were sitting around with not a whole lot to do.

It had been a long week of school and we were definitely enjoying the day off, but there are only so many hours you can stay cooped up in a little apartment listening to your next door neighbor practice his trombone...or is it a trumpet? All I know is that it's not exactly the kind of music I would choose for an afternoon serenade. 

Anyway.

So while we were sitting around being bored and stuff, Kolton suggested we go for a bike ride.

I perked up at this idea and thought what a lovely idea it was, and what a perfectly smart/romantic/good thinker husband I married.

So I changed into a leisurely bike ride around town outfit and bounded out the door so excited about this idea.

Thirty minutes later, straddling my bike and staring up at a succession of three giant hills, I wasn't so excited about this bike ride idea.

Cue: pathetic whining

"But hooonney.....that hill is huge. like, huge.

I can't do it.

I don't want to do it.

I have no desire to do it.

You tricked me into this."

Cue: eye rolling from Kolton's general direction as he starts to pedal away from me

"C'mon...just put it in a low gear. It's a piece of cake"

Cue: grumbling from my general direction about how I didn't know we were aspiring to be olympic-level bikers and that I thought this was supposed to be a nice, leisurely bike ride where we could have a conversation instead of panting and sweating our guts out. 

But as Kolton was already halfway up the thing, I decided I'd better get a move on. 

So I pedaled, and pedaled, and pedaled, panted, sweated, and shifted down gears til there were none left to shift.  

Kolton occasionally looked over his shoulder and shouted encouraging words.

When we made it to the top of the first of the three ongoing hills, I stopped to catch my breath. My legs were a little shaky, but I was still feeling okay and even a little bit accomplished.

Then Kolton decided it was time to move on. I grumbled some more, but eventually began pedaling again as Kolton gave me some words of wisdom about how it's "All in my head" and that "If I'll just tell myself I can do it, I can"

 I told him to stop talking to me.

By the time we reached the top of the second hill, I was done.

I declared that I was not going one more step...or pedal....or tire rotation uphill.

I was turning around and going home.

Kolton made me stop, stand on my jello-y legs and take a few deep breaths.

When I was functioning again and had gotten some oxygen to my brain,

I still hadn't changed my mind.

 Then he told me that if we went up just one, last, tiny little hill, we could take a leisurely ride through the up-class, huge-house neighborhood of Rexburg and then it would be downhill the whole rest of the way home.

I could tell he really thought this would be appealing to me.

What actually changed my mind was that I knew after the torture he had put me through, I could probably convince him to get some spinach and artichoke dip from Applebees later that night.

Hallucinations of those warm, salty chips and creamy delicious dip were the only things that could inspire my last ditch effort to make it up that stupid hill.

(Kolton still thinks it was his pep talk. Silly boy!)

And yes, I did actually make it.

I didn't enjoy one second of it, but I made it.

And it was downhill the rest of the way, which might have been slightly scarier than the uphill part.

But I did get my spinach and artichoke dip and I even convinced Kolton to watch "The Help" which he actually mighta sorta kinda enjoyed.

In his words, "It was no Gladiator....but it was okay"

up in here

Nothing productive is going on.

We've got issues today.

Yes, that is a we.

Usually when nothing productive goes on, it's all me, but today I was able to snag Kolton and he finally saw the light.

(Until he realized what time it was and freaked out because he hadn't made a dent in his mound of homework)

But seriously.

We got home from school and ate Oreos.

(this is my favorite non-productive thing to do)

Then Kolton found a bag of coupons and we went through every single one trying to decide when exactly we would want a dollar off a Dairy Queen burger, when we would find the time to join the "Curves Club", and how exactly I would convince Kolton to take a salsa dancing class with me. 

We FINALLY got around to doing a leetle bit of homework, and then I mentioned to Kolton what I was planning on making for dinner.

He suggested we go out to eat tonight. 

So we headed over to Costa Vida where I got a grisly steak nacho and Kolton got a burrito that only had rice and beans on the inside and not on the side too. 

That was a deal-breaker.

When we got home, a little wrestling match ensued because I may or may not have stuck an ice cube down Kolton's shirt. 

I'm sure this really amused our neighbors.  

But Kolton has finally gone back to the grindstone and I've gone back to wasting time on the internet.

We'll try again tomorrow.

3 things

1. First, and most importantly......

My boyfriend's back!

He's been up in Dillon, MT planting potatoes but we finally saw each other on Saturday night.
And it's good to have him back. I was not enjoying sleeping all by myself in our creaky house.

2. Yesterday while we were getting ready for church, Kolton was entertained by watching me fall off the bed.
I was putting my shoes on and swung my leg up to strap my tootsie in, but I overestimated my swing, lost my balance, and as Kolton describes it, "With eyes as big as saucers and flailing arms," fell onto the floor.
To add insult to injury, Kolton didn't even try to help me. As he saw me falling he took one tiny step forward in an attempt to grab me and then realized how much funnier it would be if I actually fell, so he stopped himself short and just watched the accident unfold.
And got quite a kick out of it too, I might add.

3. I was entertained yesterday by hearing Kolton's foot get caught in a mouse trap. He was washing his hands in the bathroom when I hear a "SNAP!" and then a second later. "ARGGGHHHH!"
Oh, it was so. funny.

Goll, do we love each other or what!?

update: new leads

As Kolton and I have discussed the predicament we've been thrust in with the baby kitty situation, we've come up with some ideas/scenarios as to what could have happened to the poor things.

Scenario #1: The mama kitty spent the last two days looking for a place to house her babies. She finally found a place, and carted off missing kitty number 1 to the destination. However, this took her a long time. Like, a really long time and she realized she probably couldn't do that four more times. So instead, she spent the rest of yesterday trying to talk four other cats into helping her cart off the other four kitties. She was successful and now the kitties are in hiding.

Scenario #2: The mama kitty decided she was done bein a mama and spending every waking second with her needy little babies. So she took off. After a day of observation, the ground squirrels/gophers/mini-prairie dog things {whatever the heck you call 'em} that live on the corner where the baby kitties are housed, decided to take matters into their own hands. So they carted the baby kitties off to raise them as ground squirrels and as we speak, they are teaching them to pop out of their hole, stand on their two back legs, freeze, and scan their beady little eyes all over the surroundings, pop back in their hole and frolic and play the ground squirrel way. And one day, i'll be looking out the window and see Fluffy, Muffy, Puffy, Duffy, and Bruce acting like ground squirrels.

Those are the only two plausible scenarios we could come up with. 

where oh where?

We've had a bit of drama at our house lately.

So remember the mice problem?Our solution to the mice problem was a cat. Said cat was veddy, veddy prego and had five baby kitties shortly after moving in. {the whole story of actually getting the cat to our house, is actually hilarious. well....my mom and I thought so anyway.}

So being the good caretakers that we are, dear Kolton and I housed this mama and her babies in our garage. {our very, very large garage, I might add}

So after feeding these kitties, and cleaning out the litterbox, and worrying about running over the mama every time we pulled out of the garage, and cleaning out the litterbox, and having the garage be all smelly because I  avoided cleaning out the litterbox (seriously cat people. I don't know how you do it. Litterboxes are about the most disgusting and un-dignifying things ever. Once the litterbox is full the kitty kinda looks at you like "Okay, shoo shoo-clean that sucker out so we can start this all over again." Now this is making me gag. Ive had about enough of litterbox talk for today}

....We decided it was time for our kitties to find a new home.

SO.

Kolton gathered up some little straw bales and we made a lovely little mini-straw-bale house for our beloved kitties.

 Turns out, the ungrateful mama didn't exactly appreciate this idea all that much. 

So she took off. and left us with exactly five baby kitties to care for and nurture. 

So for the past few days a couple times a day we have gathered up our baby kitties {that are about two weeks old, by the way} and fed them warm milk from our fridge with medicine droppers. {are we gonna be good parents or what?}

Well, yesterday morning we went to gather up our baby kitties and there was only four! Four baby kitties! We didn't know what had happened to little Blackie {...or was he Fluffy?} anyway. He was missing. And we had no idea where the heck he could be. But since there wasn't a whole lot we could do about the situation, I went to school and Kolton headed off to work.

That evening, we returned home and found all five baby kitties missing.

We have no idea what's become of them.

or what to do.

or who to turn to.

or why our parenting skills weren't good enough for them.

or what I'm fixing for dinner tonight....er....ignore that one.

The point is....we don't know where they've gone or what to do. {Besides search for them. But it's kinda windy. And cold. Maybe tomorrow.}

I suggested hanging up missing posters all around town, but Kolton didn't think that was a good idea. So if anyone has seen five missing baby kitties please contact us.

We appreciate your time.

yesterday: part 1 of 2

Yesterday was a good day. So good that it deserves a two part post. Just so you know.

So the very first Sunday we attended our married ward, we waltzed into Sunday School and the first thing I noticed was that a couple was team teaching the lesson.

From that moment on I just knew that Kolton and I were going to have that job.

Call it revelation or what you will- but sure enough, we spent last week preparing our own Sunday School lesson.

And I was nervous as all get-out.

But we talked about it and prepared and shared together so I felt like it was going to be okay.So we show up to church and when Sunday School rolls around we're busy getting the room ready and everyone is filing in.

So we start the lesson, Kolton was in charge of giving the first part, but I introduced us.

"Hey, we're the Hansen's. we've been married since December. We're from Monteview. And we live in apartment #1702."

Not quite sure where that last bit came from, but it was the only thing I could think of! Kolton snickered a little bit beside me, so I wrapped up the rest of the intro real quick.

So Kolton starts the lesson, and I sit reverently and quietly behind him.

Pretty soon I realize that the room is getting a titch warm. So my palms start getting sweaty-or should I say sweaty-er than they already were-and before long the front of my skirt is about soaked from my palms attempting to dry themselves.

Then it's my turn.

I get up there and pretty soon my knees and toes are fidgety and my hands are shaky, but I tried to keep my voice intact, and avoided picking up the manual for fear that it would be fluttering uncontrollably.

And it gets worse.

By then, the room is nearing sauna-like temperatures, and the faucets turn on.

I'm referring, of course, to the faucets located underneath my arms.

I'm so nervous that I don't dare ask someone to crack a window, so I continue talking as if nothing out of the ordinary is occuring in my body.

While, in fact, very un-ordinary things are occuring in my body. I was just telling Kolton the other day how i never sweat. I had to gobble up those words.

so I glue my arms to the sides and thank the heavens and all my guardian angels that I wore a dark, patterned blouse to church that day. (a blouse that is soon going to be shipped to the dry cleaners). I'm also semi-grateful that I chose to wear nylons, because even though they are horribly uncomfortable and sticky, at least I don't have sweat running down my legs (which is a very uncomfortable feeling, as anyone else that has ever experienced that will tell you)

But amid all these troubles, I somehow was able to muddle through the rest of the lesson. After it was over, I collapsed in my chair to give my shaky legs a break.

Then I scurried to the ladies room to assess the damage.

It wasn't noticeably too terribly bad. But I was pretty excited to get home. Especially to remove the hot, sticky nylons.

Ive got two weeks to recover before I have to do that again.
Oh dear.

a little scatterbrained

That's what we've been lately.

The scatterbrained-ness used to only affect me, but it must be some kind of contagious because Kolton has caught it too!

Last week he woke up super early (5:30, yeah. he's crazy) to work on some homework. When he finally went up to campus I got a little phone call from him....

"Hey Jayc....I left my worksheet I did this morning at home. Would you mind delivering it to me?"

I said yes of course. Since I love him and all...

My only problem with the whole ordeal was how in the heck do you wake up at 5:30 to work on some homework and then forget to take it to class to actually turn it in? Seriously.

Then today after Kolton left for class I noticed the little red light was bleeping on my phone. There was a weird number, but I listened to the voicemail. 

In a desperate voice my husband was calling to ask if I would deliver to him his wallet and phone.

(He was calling from a phone in the Physics Department)

I did it of course. Since I love him and all.

But he got a little more teasing this time. Only because he used to tease me so much about my own little scattered brain. (which was a true fact, by the way)

For instance...

Last semester I went to pay my apartment rent at the office. While there, I started questioning the nice man helping me about what steps I needed to take in order to sell my contract.

After receiving the said information I skipped out of the office and went on my way.

Four days later there was a notice on our front door.

For me.

It was a note that said my rent was overdue and plus I owed them 25 dolla bills ya'll.

I was flabbergasted.

I went to the office.

I wrote out the check

I chatted with the nice man.

I totally paid my rent!

Come to find out

The check that i wrote out.....was still in my checkbook.

I totally did not pay my rent.

Oh my...

So I moseyed on over to the office, talked to the not-so-pleasant lady and basically the conversation ended with me handing over my check and the 25 dolla bills ya'll.

bummer.

Now that's only one incident. There's plenty more where that came from, but of course I can't remember them right now.

But in conclusion....

It's time for summer/no school.

Oh and p.s. when I noticed his phone on the kitchen table I thought to myself, "Hey, I'd better call Kolton and let him know he left his phone at home..."
Uhhhh....DOH!



scrounging

That is what we have been doing the past week. We have been scrounging for food to eat since I decided to try something really fun and only go to the grocery store once this month.

uno momento

(Sometimes I use my limited 8th grade Spanish to make up Spanish phrases that really don't make sense but sound neat. I think it drives Kolton crazy)

But actually....I did go that one other time to pick up stuff for my "suga and spice" cookies.

Oh, and there was that other time in preparation for our road trip. (Everybody knows it's not a road trip unless you got goodies! I had to remind Kolton of that fact)

But other than those two times....

uno momento.

Anyway....

We seriously had nothing in our house. noth-ing.and it really was fun because I felt like I was being cost-effective and we had to eat some of that stuff that everyone buys but never gets around to eating and finally throws away because it's two years out of date. (i.e. hamburger helper and cardboard pizza) and because I had no ingredients, I got out of cooking for a time.

So with our fridge bare neck-ed I finally decided it was time to break down and go to the grocery store.

I actually really like going grocery shopping. I like to take my time and browse the aisles looking for the things I need...and some things that I definitely don't need (i.e. the chips ahoy cookies and certain items from the special displays set up to fool innocent shoppers into thinking they need those things in their cupboards right. now.)

I'm such a sucker.

 and I even worked in a grocery store!

Kolton teased me a little bit after I got home about my impulsive shopping habits, but not too much because I know he's just glad he was off the hook. (He doesn't actually like grocery shopping too much. I think it's because he's not as good at spending money as I am)

But now our fridge and bellies are full and I don't have any reason for not cooking anymore because my cupboards are fully restocked. (shoot)

I'll let ya know how that goes.

spring is in the air

found here

But if you think that that means it's getting any less chilly up in here, you are wrong-a-rino!

A good indication of Spring being right around the corner....(or around the block is probably more appropriate time-wise) is the blustery wind we have been having lately.

Holy moley, it's been nasty the last couple days. Spring really might have been in the air, but pretty sure the wind blew it away. It was almost fifty degrees the other day. (heat wave!) and soooo lovely.

But yesterday and today that ole wind picked up and I have not enjoyed it one little bit. (Never been a big fan of the wind. It's ruined many a sun-bathing experience for me)

 
But I do believe the worst part other than: a) my hair being a mess all over my face and stuck in my chapstick every time I leave the house,  b) freezing my poor little ears off, and c) getting blown every which way all over the sidewalk is that our windows in our apartment aren't totally workable and don't totally shut all the way so the wind howls all day and night.

It's kinda eerie to wake up to that in the middle of the night (just so you know). Good thing I've got my buddy to protect me. :)

We've got some serious draft problems as a result of the window thing. When the wind is especially moving the blinds get to swaying. Pretty sure that's bad.

So I guess Spring isn't exactly right  around the corner. But here's hoping it's coming soon to a town near me.

the lemon chicken penne incident

I used to think I was a pretty good cook. Okay, so let me rephrase that...I knew I was a pretty good cook. The only disclaimer is that I'm only a good cook with the four total recipes that I have mastered.

Other than those four recipes, I ain't got nothin.

You can imagine how this is a rather large problem since I am now cooking dinner almost every night and using the same four recipes can be a little tiresome. 

So I decided to branch out. 

"It can't be too hard" I told myself "it's just following a recipe"

turns out,
it is hard.

I will now recount to you the lemon chicken penne incident of last Sunday:

I was super pumped because in my search to branch out I had found a recipe online for a lemon chicken penne. 

The pictures looked delicious,

The instructions were simple enough,

"Why not?" I asked myself. 

So I ran down to the grocery store, gathered up the ingredients and was good to go. 

I had to marinate the chicken for 24 hours in lemon juice, among other things so I got right to work. 

Soon the marinade was ready and the chicken went into the fridge.

All night I thought about what a delicious meal we were going to be having the next day, I might have even dreamed about it. 

I was going to invite my cousin and his love interest over for dinner because I was so confident in my meal, but somehow that didn't end up working out.

So Sunday rolls around, we get out of church and I rush home to get started on my masterpiece. 

I followed the directions exactly and before too long it was finished!

So we set ourselves a pretty table and dished up the piece de resistance (I don't know how to spell in French, but you get what I mean)

After one bite and some thoughtful chewing, we looked at each other.

After the second bite we gulped down some water real fast after swallowing,

and after the third bite, the whole bowl of pasta went right into the garbage can.

Bummer.
It had potential, it really did. But holy cow, talk about lemon. Waaayyy too much lemony goodness for our liking.

Luckily I had stuck some biscuits in the oven, so our Sunday dinner (you know, that one you look forward to all week) consisted of biscuits. And they weren't even homemade.

ohhh, I am a failure.

weak sauce

I have a problem.

With onions.
I have gone my entire life wondering what people were talking about when they said cutting up onions makes them burst into tears.

I've just never understood that.

Then, last year I was making dinner with a friend when he asked if I would dice up the onions, "Unless", he added, "it makes your eyes water."

"Nope" I proudly announced. "Onions don't affect me one little bit."

About thirty seconds later I couldn't even see said onion because I had tears (and mascara!) streaming down my face.

Talk about putting your foot in your mouth.

Today, I had a similar experience.

I was helping amy with dinner and she asked if I would dice up the onions. Being prepared, I grabbed my glasses. (I don't exactly know what this was going to accomplish, maybe block the noxious fumes from my eyes)

Unfortunately, this attempt failed.

And I ended up with tears (and mascara!) again streaming down my face.

I am such weak sauce.