Wordless Wednesday

Two great years, baby

Today marks two years since Josh and I were married in the St. George Temple. Here is a picture of Josh stepping on the back of my dress on our way out of the temple. Even though they're horribly embarrassing, I love these candid shots!We decided to celebrate today by packing and cleaning some more of our house. We just took down our bed, wrapped the mattresses and hauled them out to the garage for 'the big move' this weekend, so we're going to sleep on the Aerobed downstairs in the living room tonight. I'm so excited! Downstairs is much cooler and darker than the upstairs, so it should make for a wonderful evening, even if we are sleeping on a glorified air mattress.

To celebrate our anniversary for real, though, we finally treated ourselves to the Bodies exhibit at the Tropicana. I've really wanted to go since I started my A&P classes and it was as incredible as I thought it would be. One of my favorite things was seeing the small intestine laid out in its full length. I mean, it's one thing to learn that it is 18-22 feet long, but it's quite another to actually see it. The human body is so amazing. The most amazing part (but saddest, too) was the fetal development section where we got to see exactly what our baby looks like inside my tummy! For anyone that's considering going, do it! And the audio tour is definitely worth the extra six bucks.

Christmas stories, please

Friends, family, and strangers...I need your favorite Christmas stories! I'm planning a huge undertaking for family Christmas gifts this year, and would love your input. I need a variety of stories - funny and sad, Christian or not, long and short. Please email them to me at paigehendrickson@yahoo.com. Thanks!!

I've not much else to say, except that I've been having some serious headaches the last three days. I don't know if it's because I'm constantly walking up and down the stairs carrying boxes, or if it's from working so hard in this blasted heat, but it doesn't feel very good. I hope the baby isn't retaliating for me bending over so much. If she is and doesn't shape up, she's not getting anything for Christmas this year.

And the packing begins.

Katie and Bronson left me yesterday. Even though I got to sleep without socks and pj's on last night, and now I don't have to feel guilty for keeping the a/c above 80 degrees, I was sad when Bronson wasn't there to greet me this morning. I'm gonna miss that little boy. I'm so pleased it was *my* stairs he learned to climb. It's like I got to make a permanent mark in his ever-changing world.

Today is supposed to be my first official "get serious about packing up to move" day, and all I've accomplished so far is washed two loads of laundry and read up on everyone's blogs. But the packing will resume soon, very soon. I'm going to repack the guest bedroom and bath first, then do the up- and downstairs closets. There are 5-6 boxes in the garage on shelves that I want to go through before I relocate them to the "ready for moving" side of the garage, and then I'll start boxing up the kitchen dishes I don't use often. I have a lot of bedding, cleaning supplies, house plants, and misc items to freecycle, so those should be gone in the next few days, and I started one bag of clothes for the Big Brother, Big Sister dropoff last night.

I'm so grateful I have these next two weeks to take some time to go through everything and not drag it all up to Utah with me. I'd go crazy if I had to sift through all of this stuff before I could settle into my new home.

Feed My Sheep

I'm 0 and 2 with the missionaries.

Several months ago in Relief Society I signed up to feed the missionaries. We ran into them about a week before said dinner and persuaded them to tell us what they *really* wanted to eat. Turns out they were both huge fish fans, but no one ever made it for them. So I found a dreamy recipe for lemony halibut served over steamed vegetables and rice. I even practiced it one night for me and Josh to make sure it was edible, and it was fantastic! I called the missionaries the afternoon of our dinner date to ask when they were going to come over that evening, and the Elder says to me, "Oh, didn't Elder so-and-so call you? We made other plans to eat dinner with some investigators tonight." Now, even though I was planning a special meal for them, it didn't bother me, because I figured if the missionaries can have dinner with investigators, that's better than dining at our investigator-less table, and I just stuck the two extra halibut fillets in the freezer for another day.

Fast-forward to last Saturday when the missionaries were tracting in our area and we invited them in for a break from the sun, some water, and some snacks. New missionaries, new dinner opportunity, so I offered to prepare dinner for an evening they had available. That available evening ended up being the following Saturday (today). These missionaries had no special requests, so I decided to make my fool-proof cranberry chicken with a green salad and rice pilaf. Everyone loves it.

Everything was set for dinner at 6pm at our house. We confirmed with the missionaries the day before and they had our address and phone number. At 6pm, the rice and salad were done, I had baked brownies, and the chicken had 10 minutes left in the oven - perfect, because the missionaries weren't there yet. At 6:10pm, I put the rice back on a semi-warm burner and covered with a lid to keep in the moisture, and left the chicken in for "five more minutes." At 6:20pm, I had Josh call their house to see if they remembered how to get to Melocactus Court (no answer - good sign, right?), turned off the oven, but left the chicken in it to keep warm, and put the salad dressings back in the fridge. At 6:30pm, I sat down and debated whether or not to keep the chicken in the oven, fearing it would dry out. I decided against it, because I had just baked it in a mixture of whole cranberry sauce, honey, and lemon and orange juices. I figured leaving it simmering in all those juices would keep it moist. At 6:45pm, I pulled the chicken out of the oven and told Josh if they didn't show up by 7pm, we were going to eat without them.

The missionaries arrived for our 6pm dinner appointment at 6:53pm. They offered no excuse nor apology for being late, and I didn't ask where they had been, figuring it was none of my business and hoping they had been connecting spiritually with someone while teaching a discussion. So we sat down to dinner. I dished everyone a chicken breast and cranberry mixture and we all served our own rice and salad. The conversation was good and all was well until I took a bite of chicken and nearly choked on it. The chicken was nearly bone-dry! I was so embarrassed. I looked at Josh and shook my head. We both know how juicy the chicken normally is, so it was a real disappointment to eat it in such terrible condition.

Stupid missionaries. They not only ruined my dinner, but only apologized for arriving late to dinner after I apologized for the chicken. I think the senior companion caught on that the extended oven time is what dried out the chicken.

How my garden isn't growing

My garden has been doing so awesome since I planted last month, but Vegas has sustained 98+ weather for the last week or so and it's really taken a toll on my little plants. :( The heat plus the wind have been drying out my blossoms before they have a chance to become much more. My pea plants have basically dried up now, and my zucchinis haven't produced any fruit yet, even though they're blossoming like mad. It's really quite frustrating because my peas were sooo delicious back when they grew. Here is a picture of one of my peas compared to a frozen pea. mmmm...so plump and delightful!
The good news is strawberries grow splendidly in the heat, and my plants are cranking them out! Here is a picture of one of my strawberries compared to one of my peas. They're huge and taste like they're straight out of California!
I got my first blossoms on my jalapeño and cucumber plants yesterday, and I still have about 10 tomatoes that are growing nicely - just need to ripen up. If there's a silver lining to moving back to Utah, it's that my gardens there flourish.

By the way... Virginia Tech thoughts

I don’t know why Virginia Tech has affected me so. I have never lived there, I have never known anyone to attend school there, and I didn’t know any of the victims or their families. But that hasn’t stopped me from spending the last three days pouring over online articles and readers’ comments until 2am. My seeming ‘removal’ from the situation failed to prevent an onslaught of tears as I tried so desperately to comprehend the horror I’ve seen plastered on my computer screen.

It seems to me there must be something wrong with the American lifestyle, something we need to fix. There must be angry, suicidal people in other countries, but why don't they go on shooting rampages? Are Americans more aggressive? More culturally diverse? Does America have too many minorities or not enough? Is it something Americans eat, listen to, or watch? Why has our patience run so thin? What "sets off" this American tradition of violence?

Is it pride? Americans are great at "knowing" their way is the absolute best, and even better at cutting down anyone who thinks/looks/believes/drives/votes/eats/lives/works differently. I'm not talking about America v. other countries - I'm talking about Americans v. other Americans. There's an overwhelming lack of acceptance for one another and when we don't accept each other, we certainly can't respect or love them.

*sigh*

Is this just the way it’s going to be? My greatest fear is there’s not only more, but much worse, to come. Current or future gun laws can't win this battle. The Virginia Tech shooter bought his guns legally, anyway. Anti-gun rhetoric says to eliminate gun purchases, enforce more gun control. I say someone that is willing to plan out a revenge like this one is also willing to obtain any weapon possible by which to carry it out. Pro-gun rhetoric says that if the victims had been armed they could have stopped the shooter before he did more harm. I say that the numbers don’t add up. On a campus of 25,000 people, only a few hundred may have encountered the shooter’s path that day – let’s say one percent. For only five of those people to have been armed, you’d have to arm another 495 people on the rest of the campus. That’s a lot of random people roaming the campus with guns. I doubt the increased risk of accident would be worth it.

Josh and I have wondered at times if we should arm ourselves against the outside world. We don’t live in a bad part of town, but we’ve had our fair share of sketchy neighbors. We’ve gone back and forth and back again several times over and only now, after days of sadness, horror, and unbelief, have we made a decision. As for me and my house, we will not own a gun. Josh can go shooting with his friends if he wants (as long as he wears ear protection) but he won’t bring a gun into our home. People have asked why we don’t want to protect ourselves, but I wonder exactly from whom do we need protection? We aren’t members of a gang, and we don’t use or sell drugs, so who exactly would be out to get us? Why have we let the media instill such a fear of the extraordinary that we let that fear govern our ordinary lives? I attended classes the same day the Virginia Tech students were killed. In fact, hundreds of thousands of students attended college classes across the United States and were not shot while doing so. While the shooting was tragic, we have to remember it wasn’t normal, and there is no way to ‘protect’ ourselves from every possible, yet unlikely, harm.

So that is our decision. We will teach our children not to touch guns or play with them, but knowing that children are curious and don’t always do exactly as told, we won’t tempt them by bringing one into our home. The increased risk of having a gun-related accident in our home far outweighs any harm that may or may not materialize, regardless what the media tells us.

Happy again!

My depression is over. It was real, though, and very hard on me. I don't think Josh realized how sad I was, so it didn't seem to affect him too badly. Moving helped, though. Getting rid of this weird allergic reaction I had to Las Vegas really helped me, too.

Just getting to know and understand my role as wife and 'homemaker' is what helped the most. I didn't have a job, children, or a real direction in life, so I was bored and felt useless. Then we moved the end of November and I got to go through boxes, throw stuff away, and clean clean clean! I hung up some paintings, made up a guest room, and am patiently organizing our two worlds into one. I had stuff stored in my parents' attic that I haven't looked at for more than 5 years. There is still much to do, but it's coming along. I travel with Josh when he goes out of town for work, and spend a lot of time helping my mom clean her house when we're up there.

Yay for me! I'm busy! I'm accomplishing things! I clean and organize the house, wash the laundry, cook meals, and entertain friends and guests. These are my duties now, and for now, they are enough. I realize they won't be enough forever, but I'm certain they will change as I change. I feel appreciated, I feel loved, and I feel needed. As of right now, my life is complete and I couldn't be happier.