It's not you, It's me.

Dearest Virginia,
I don’t think this will come as a surprise to you. It’s time we go our separate ways. We were just not meant for each other. I need to move on. I need to see other people, other places. I have felt from the beginning that you were holding me back, you with your traffic jams and long red lights. And if we are going to be really honest with each other I think we both know that I was using you for your beach. You deserve someone that will be here for you long term, pay taxes, and vote for local leadership. I will always cherish the good times we had together and you will always have a special place in my heart.

Colonial Williamsburg

More majesty: Ocean or desert

Today I stood in the ocean with my coconut smelling boy in my arms. There is an emotion I feel when I'm at the ocean that is hard to explain. The endlessness of it makes me feel almost breathless. I feel small, but being in the water also makes me feel part of something so big. The sand is almost too hot and the water almost too cold, but neither temperature is quite too extreme so it ends up feeling perfect. I feel like maybe I could take a breath deep enough to fill my lungs with so much salty air that it might actually change what I am. I love to feel the power of the waves, pushing and then pulling, proving my strength is nothing. The only word I could think of during this moment was majesty.

That word is one I often use to describe the area where I am from. If you are from a region that has water, you might come to the desert and feel dry and drained. It takes a while to realize how much sun-faded color we have. The sky gets so blue when it's framed by bluer mountains. The yellow of the valleys is so soft. Have you ever seen red dirt? That rusty sand is the color of adventure. Have you ever watched boiling clouds rotate above the aspens? Have you ever stood at the bottom of a slot canyon so tall the rays of the sun will never warm the sandstone walls? I may be biased but the desert is majestic.

When you have water in such abundance, can you really appreciate it compared to those of us in a constant drought?

I don't know which has more majesty, but I do know one thing for sure. Rainstorms on the coast just make everything more wet, soggy, and humid than before. A rainstorm in the desert is spiritual. It refreshes. It renews. And it smells so earthly good.

August means...

Growing up, August meant the end of summer, Jeffy's birthday, the Heaton reunion at the ranch, snow cone shacks closing up and school shopping.

Now that we move away every summer August has taken on a new meaning. It means counting down the days until you can go home. It means stop buying food and using up what you've accumulated in your cupboards. It means prematurely packing up because you are so excited to get going. It means wondering how in the world you are going to get your 15month old ball of energy back to Utah without going bonkers during the three day drive.

August has started to feel like April. I have that same excited feeling like when the trees are blossoming and summer is just around the corner. I am so excited to go home. I am so excited that we have a house to go home to. For years we've rallied up friends and family to help us move all of our stuff into a storage unit (and Jason is king of box tetris so we never have an inch to spare!). Not this year. This year we know where we are going home to. We'll hopefully be able to settle in quickly and get on with life.

We miss out on our favorite things during the summer. We plan to fit in as much as we can in September before the weather gets cold. I can't wait to take Mason camping for the first time. Jason is planning fishing and motorcycle trips. I plan on hunting down every member of my huge family and giving them a hug (and not a Heaton-one-hand-on-your-shoulder-side hug).

I can't wait to pull weeds. I can't wait to smell like campfire smoke. I can't wait to say good riddance to parking garages. You have no idea how difficult it is to go grocery shopping here!

I love Virginia. I really do. But I also love the thought of leaving her in a cloud of dust as we drive off into the sunset.

Well at least it's not swine flu

The good news is that I'm still alive and that I don't have swine flu. I got pretty sick last week and I'm recovering ssssssssllllllllllllllooooooooooooooowwwwwwwlllllllllllllyyyyyyyyyy. Last Thursday night it got really bad and I laid in bed all night just trying to breathe. I was afraid if I fell asleep I would just stop breathing and die.

After being asked a million questions and feeling like I've been poked and prodded from head to toe I realized something neat. I am really grateful to be raised with good healthy standards!

1. Do you smoke? NO
2. How often do you consume alcohol? NOt ever
3. Do you worry that you consume alcohol too much or too often?
4. Do you drink alone? Seriously? NO
5. How many caffeinated drinks do you consume per day? NONE
6. How many sexual partners have you been with this year? This year? hm...gee can't keep track.
7. Do you ever have sex for money or drugs? Wow, NO
7. Do you do drugs? NO
8. Do you use prescription drugs for any use not intended by the prescriber? STILL NO
9. Do you share needles with others? Really really NO

Also, Is HIPAA just a Utah thing? I was amazed at the things that were discussed with doors wide open. One nurse shouted down the hall to the other the type of test she should do on me next.

Nothing like being sick to make you miss home. I miss my doctor, who has treated four generations of my family. I miss my pharmacy, where they are friendly and fast. I miss being able to run to my parents house to borrow a heating pad. I miss my mother in law, who insists we'd all be healthier if we'd just drink our Goji Juice.

Thank heavens for Dionne and Dallas. Thank you for checking on us. Thank you thank you for bringing us dinner. You'd think we hadn't eaten in a week, and maybe we hadn't.

Our "backyard" in the city

These pictures are from the little duck pond across the street. Mason says "bah bah" for quack quack.

Wrapped with love

Although Jason isn't a big holiday/celebration person, he still gets excited about giving presents. Neither of us are very patient so we started a tradition when we were first married of giving each other a present as soon as it is technically our birthday. Yesterday after we ate dinner at 1:30am (I know, crazy schedule) he couldn't wait a minute longer. He had me close my eyes and brought out this:

The gift was fantastic but the wrapping paper was my favorite part. He printed off a piece of paper for every year old I am. On each was something he loves about me. Some were sweet, some were funny.
Atta boy.

All things girly...

Also, yesterday a bunch of us had a Princess Ballerina Tea Party to celebrate all the birthdays this week, several of them belonging to girls under 7. Although all the girly stuff was a bit out of my usual repertoire, it was great fun playing with all the kids. Don't tell anyone but I think I'll keep this one:

Promised Land of Cheraw

We escaped the stresses of work for the weekend and drove down to Jason's mission area. We were there three years ago when living in Summerville while Jason was a service tech for APX. Here are some pictures, then (2006) and now, with our gracious host Brother Fred. Can you tell which are which? Mason gives it away but I think we all look younger in the latest pictures.

We were excited to go through North Carolina because the last time we'd been there was for our ruby hunting adventure and had driven through the most beautiful area with steep wooded hills and charming little towns tucked into the foliage. Well, that was a different part of North Carolina. We drove through the country side and witnessed how strange a land it is. Abandoned, paint stripped houses were being devoured by the out of control Kudzu. Dream homes were placed perfectly on their picturesque plantations. Old rust mingled with lofty white steeples.

We saw houses with porches and people on those porches. We stayed with Fred, who has a charming smile and a desperate crush on Sheri Dew. We attended the Cheraw branch, where small numbers make beautiful music. We joined in Mema's 65th birthday celebration. Mason met his first cat, horse, and fell in love with a southern belle named Savannah. We found the Wrights happily living the American Dream. For the rest of the story click HERE.

I have a stalker

It started out innocently enough. I had just moved to Virginia and didn't know anyone. She smiled from across the store. Then she complemented my baby and I was won over. As we left the store she had me jot down my email and cell number on a box of brownies. Interested in Mom's club? Sure.

The more I found out about Mom's club the more I knew it just wasn't my cup of tea. When she called I tried to sound friendly but vague. She told me about some other stuff she does. No thanks to the makeup party, I don't leave my kid with babysitters. Then I ran into her at the park. I smiled and left. Then she emailed. I didn't care to respond. THEN she showed up at the baby class I signed up for. At the end of class she makes a bunch of random announcements and then attacked me again. "Hi my name is ***stalker***. Have you heard about Mom's club?" Seriously? I hated to remind her that we'd already met, and then met again and then talked on the phone, but I did. And then she followed me around the library (sssshhhhh!) and kept talking about the most asinine things.

After finding an invitation she sent me on Facebook, I almost didn't go to class today. But it's for Mason so I went. After class she approached me and started talking ( I have no idea what she was talking about) so I just walked away. Rude? I don't really care at this point. And don't worry, she didn't seem to care either. As I was buckling Mason in she ran up with a huge plastic bag and handed me a card from it. Her card. I'm glad she only gave me one of the thousands she carries around.

Professional Kids at Heart
Playdates accepted and encouraged
Kids' full names and COMPLETE birthdays!
complete Address/Home phone/Her Cell/Her poor husbands cell /Website/website number 2

I almost hesitate to post this because she has found me everywhere else I go, but this could be good. Stalker lady: If you are reading this, please leave me alone. I am too passive to hit you but I'm tempted. Go away. People don't like to be invaded or told what to do or where to take their kids. Don't be stupid and put all your personal info on a card and give it to strangers! I get from your card that you are looking for friends and very available and perhaps desperate to be contacted.
I'm not any of those things.

Best Beach

After fighting crowds and paying for parking, I was excited to hear from my friend Dionne about East Beach. It's a quiet spot near a new development sprouting new beautiful beach houses. We took a trip there with the other APX wives and children. It's secluded and pristine. We're actually in the bay so the water is calm and warm. The kids loved it! They jumped over the 3 inch waves and played in the sand. The contrast from Virginia Beach's Oceanfront is what really has me sold.

Click here for the highlights of the outing: http://picasaweb.google.com/asherstarr/BestOfEastBeachJuly1?authkey=Gv1sRgCMvmg6S33uvj1QE&feat=directlink

To Market, to market...

Today Mason, some friends, and I went to the local farmer's market. What is it about markets that is so appealing? On the way home we spotted a flea market and I was sorely tempted to turn in, but by then the kids were worn out and overheated from also playing at the park. We picked up some zucchini, squash, avocados, plums, and the greatest raspberry/rhubarb/lime jam. Click here to see Mason in the candy store. I wish we had markets back home. I also wish that I didn't waste the avocados by adding too much salt to the guacamole. I guess I'll have to go back and get more!