Mountain Men and Gnomes

This is my mini-garden. Every summer I desperately want to plant stuff, and I either wait too long, or I kill what I do manage to plant because I forget about it. (Let's not make any parenting analogies here, okay?) But this summer, they're alive! They're living!

It's probably because of the gnome. He's the only new factor in this experiment, so I'm giving him all the credit.

Except let's just take a moment to thank me for watering everything obsessively. Pretty sure the gnome can't do that. 

My only downfall was planting my favorite, the cilantro, in a spot that apparently gets direct sunlight for much of the day. Crunchy, dry, dead cilantro. NOT okay. I cried one single solitary tear.

I'll go get a new cilantro plant soon...mostly because I wish every dish contained cilantro, and this is how I ensure I have a plentiful supply.

Meanwhile, the basil lives on and since this is my second favorite herb, I've managed to make it through my currently cilantro-less existence.

Moving on. Time for a little math:

DeeAura + any opportunity to bruise/scar = 

guaranteed SUCCESS

I never really was all that great at math, but that's not the point. The point is, it's time to be out in the sunshine, and that usually means it's hot, which will then consequently usually involve large bodies of water. Or at least a garden hose.

Exhibit A: Multi-ward giant water slide, fantastic hill, lots of mud, rocks at the bottom...of course we went multiple times.

And of course our legs all looked like crazy cats attacked them. Even our bishop (who is just plain crazy...and fantastic) got some sweet scars. But really - this picture may not show our shredded legs, but it's a true story.

So, of course, I gave those scars about a week to heal before I went out and wreaked any more havoc on my body.

Exhibit B: This would be the results of boating out on Utah Lake when the waves are so high we should've just been surfing: leg, meet water. SMACK. I hate tubing. I'd much rather wakeboard. 

I've never had a wakeboard throw me up in the air and slam me back to the water with quite that much gravitational rage.

If I see that tube again, it's dead to me.

That would be after a mere 24 hours. My ability to bruise is NOT conducive to swimsuit season.

I know. The fact I'm showing you this much of my leg is KILLING you right now.

so. entirely. gross.

I took last night off of life just to ice the monster on my leg.

...And watch numerous episodes of Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman...

Sully has some terrible lines, but...I just...he's a mountain man. And apparently I think that's attractive.

Huh.

I'm embarrassed I like watching it so much. But I do. I just do.

Heinously predictable script aside.

Oh, and while I'm rambling on about stupid useless stuff:

Sometimes I think my next-door neighbor looks kind of like Sully, and I have a 30-second crush on him.
But then his girlfriend/wife (I haven't figured out which) comes riding up on her stupid scooter, and I remember he puts his hair in a ponytail and there's still a part of my brain awake enough to snap out of it.

Because this is real life. 

And in real life, I need to fold my last load of laundry.

And go running (as soon as the stupid bruise stops killing me). 

Because I still want to run this baby next weekend. Time will tell if my run-ins with nature will allow such insanity...

And remind myself it's only 53 days to Hawaii with these happy faces!

(Thanks, Bethany, for the picture. I obviously stole it from you.) :)

Note to self: never again plan your summer vacation for the absolute end of the summer.

All this waiting is not necessary.

And p.s. I really like my life right now. REALLY.

So this makes me a tiny bit nervous because that's usually about when things turn upside down and change.

There are possible changes on the horizon, and they're starting to freak me out.

I'm doing my best to ignore that feeling and just enjoy normalcy while it still exists.

So I refuse to write about them until they're real.

Because this blog is only for real stuff.

Like mountain men and gnomes.

The do-whatever-you-want Day

Saturday morning I woke up excited. Why?

Because there wasn't a THING I had to do that day. Not one single solitary duty.

* happy dance*

First things first: my roommate Whitney and I hiked the Y. I used to go almost every week last summer, but don't worry - I haven't done it since then. So why not start again, right?

Yeah, climbing up a mountain is kind of hard.

I swear it was easier last summer...so clearly I have to do it once a week until it doesn't make me want to die  at every other switchback. 

But there we are at the top! 

I love that view.

Luckily, Whit didn't have anything she had to do that day either, so what did we do the second we got home from the Y? 

Uh, Seven Peaks of course.

From running shorts to swimsuit in 0 to 60 seconds. 

Seriously though. Fastest change of my life!

For avid Seven Peak-ers, this isn't anything new, but the "Boomerang" is basically just a biiiiig wedgie slide. FYI.

But it's fine because you know EVERYONE is getting that same result, so it's actually that much more entertaining. :)

Then after hours and hours of summer sunshine, does it get better?

YES, my friends. It does.

Because afterward you get the best snow cone of your life because it's a bajillion degrees outside, and you eat it so fast you get a brain freeze, which causes you to neglect any desire you may have had previously to document such goodness.

But it was worth it.

The next entertaining part of the day happened when I went to the grocery store to grab a few necessities shortly thereafter.

In a shirt that apparently is the exact match for my phone cover...

Which two total strangers (both men) pointed out to me with big grins while I was still on the phone.

Embarrassing AND funny. 

Give strangers appropriate silent humor response, (as I am CLEARLY on the phone) shrug shoulders, grab cilantro, exit store.

Make mental note to separate wearing of said shirt and simultaneous act of talking on phone in public.

Moving on.

We ended the most perfect day of no responsibility by watching "The Wizard of Oz" at a local outdoor amphitheater done by a cast that was actually fun to watch!

Sometimes local community theater can be...er...cheesy and a bit empty, and can make me feel like dying on the inside, but this was actually well done, and I genuinely had a great time!

The Scarecrow was the best one, though. He was hysterical!

I wanted to watch it again.

They were just cute.

NOT as cute, however, as these two little girls next to us that I creepily captured oh my phone.

It might not look like it here since they're super involved at the moment, but they kept excitedly grinning at each other throughout the whole show. They LOVED it, and it just made me have an extra good time.

"The Wizard of Oz" was my faaaavorite movie as a little girl, so watching these two just took me back to playing pretend Oz with my friends.

...under which circumstances I was always Dorothy, of course.

Mom was the Wicked Witch of the West. By default. She always made us stop playing. Clearly type-casting.

Anyway.

Seriously so much fun!

Except for the dummy in the jeans behind us.

I wanted to smack him the whole time. 

But we don't talk about stupid people on happy days. :)

Especially when someone left their extra ticket at the box office, and they gave it to us for free so the whole experience was a whopping $5.

WIN. :)

Bowling-Biking League Extraordinaire

Prepare to be slammed with pure awesomeness.

...because a freezing cold DeeAura in a bike helmet meant for someone else is REALLY a sigh to behold.

Gross.

We DO look good, though.

Over Memorial Day weekend, (You're overcome with my prompt blogging now, I know. But we've discussed this mannny times.) most of my family and I went out to our favorite place in the middle of nowhere to enjoy some dirt roads, sagebrush, and cows.

This magical place is known to about 100 people and many more herds of cattle as Grouse Creek, Utah.

Unless you hunt deer or have ever been really really really really REALLY lost on your way back from California or Nevada, you've never been there.

I promise.

And, contrary to the TWO non-believers (both male, I might add) who accused me of making up such a place, 

IT DOES EXIST. PROOF:

So anyway. Moving on.

(Coulda saved a whole lot of time and space on this post if you'd just believed me in the first place.)

We biked through wind, rain, and freezing temperatures.

I'm still a child on the inside because I think helmets look goofy, even if they save lives. 

You're welcome, mom.

As a family, sometimes we wonder how the other people feel.

We imagine it's difficult to accept our incredibility.

So last weekend, we decided to wow the thriving metropolis of Brigham City with our bowling SKILLS.

Brigham's on the map too. Check it and just start believing me, m'kay?

Everyone was so intimidated by our abilities, we had the whole bowling alley to ourselves.

EXCELLENT.

Bumpers were involved.

Blood was shed.

Some people forgot to wear socks.

Scores were meant for golf.

Teasing was merciless.

All in all, an overwhelming WIN for our crazy clan.

McDonalds soft serve afterward? YES.

Making faces in the ice cream and laughing like it was 3 a.m.?

Duh.

And then we went on more bike rides.

Still - cows. Apparently we're big on cattle for company.

 I might be biased, but I just think Brigham is such a homey little place.

 My family is a load of fun, just FYI. 

For all our future spouses...we apologize in advance for all the fart jokes at dinner.

You'll fit in much better if you just give in and laugh with us.

You may not last long otherwise.

Tough crowd. :) 

I think I'm saying status doesn't matter.

I'm not sure how to write this. It's also a post I started months ago, when something happened to a friend that triggered this mess of words. I decided to leave it alone for a while. And now that I haven't blogged in seventeen years, it's probably going to be read by...myself. Ha. :) Onward.

Learning to be grateful for whatever you have in life. 

Yes. 

This is a thing we are all at least trying to do.

Eventually, we recognize the grass isn't always greener...that there are dying grass patches in everyone's field at some point or another. No matter who you are, no matter what you have in life...there are just going to be tough days.

And what do you need when you wanna punch the day in the face?

• Sometimes I go run it out. I run and run until I can't run anymore, and then I remember I still have to run back to where I started. :) Or sometimes it's whatever the favorite cardio stress pounder is...sometimes having Jillian Michaels yell at me about punching harder as I do so REALLY does make me feel better. Knock her all you want. I appreciate her. 

• If there's a piano handy, I sit down with a pile of books and just play them all. I'm not a fantastic pianist by any means, and I'm definitely not playing for a crowd...but sometimes I just need to be alone in a room with a piano, and I'll emerge an hour later a completely new person. It makes me breathe easier just thinking about it.

• Or sometimes I just need serious chocolate. In most any form.

• A nap. Those help. You know, or praying...or reading the scriptures for a minute, or a general conference talk. Something to just help it fade. 

• Or a friend. Someone who will do whatever you need...maybe just listen while you cry it out, or talk about it so you can hear if your frustrations make sense or not. Or sometimes? (this is my favorite one) You might just need a friend to let you lay your head on their lap while they play with your hair and you watch something requiring no thinking whatsoever, and there's no talking at all. Just letting life simmer down without speaking.

Sometimes you just need a friend.

I remember one particular day as a sophomore in high school. I had different groups of friends. Younger friends, older friends, "popular" friends, "nerdy" friends, choir friends, church friends, and that one guy I only talked to/saw in History, but that whole hour we laughed about stuff (I mean learned) the teacher said. But one day, a girl walked up to me and informed me my friends were in "too many groups." "You have to pick one," she said, with the ultimate superiority. I remember standing there, wondering who died and made her queen. I told her I didn't agree, and that I liked having friends in all different "groups." Good heavens.

I'm sorry to disappoint you, dear high school girl, but I still haven't changed. It's the one thing since high school I'm glad hasn't changed. ;) I have friends in many different walks of life, as I'm sure most other...grown ups...do. Or at least I hope so.

My friends are all very different from each other. Friends who like country, friends who hate country, friends who like sports, friends who do nottttt - friends who are single, and friends who are oh so married.

Let's focus on this one for a moment. Just because I'm single doesn't mean I only have single friends, or that I only talk to my single friends about my "single" problems. Sometimes my favorite person to talk to is a friend who does not have the exact replica of my life.

I remember when friends started getting married. It was weird. :) Then it got frustrating/depressing. Eventually, though, it stopped bothering me altogether. I finally reached a day when I realized what I was doing, and gave myself a well-deserved lecture. It went something like this:

Just because someone has something you don't have doesn't make you the martyr of their situation, and therefore grant you rights to pound them to the ground for having trials while they stand in possession of your holy grail.

Stop yearning for everything other than what you have. Life your  life, and be glad of it! Complain about it when you need to, but then snap out of it, and cowboy up. Or girl, depending on the situation. ;)  Stop coming down on every mother of multiple children for having a moment when she doesn't want to get up at 4 a.m. with a screaming child, or who can't take the thought of seeing another dirty diaper. So she'd give her right arm to go get a pedi with her girlfriends and you'd simultaneously give your right arm for that screaming baby...dirty diapers and all.

Don't worry, that DeeAura lecture took place years ago...not yesterday. ;) And I'm still glad I have friends who share my interests or life situation JUST as I am equally glad to have friends with complete opposites of these things. It helps me feel slightly less crazy when needed, and pulls me out of my personal validation traps when needed.