today feels like this

When I go up through the mowing field,

The headless aftermath,

Smooth-laid like thatch with the heavy dew,

Half closes the garden path.

And when I come to the garden ground,

The whir of sober birds

Up from the tangle of withered weeds

Is sadder than any words.

A tree beside the wall stands bare,

But a leaf that lingered brown,

Disturbed, I doubt not, by my thought,

Comes softly rattling down.

I end not far from my going forth

By picking the faded blue

Of the last remaining aster flower

To carry again to you.

-"Late Walk" by Robert Frost

It's a long story

For a guy who won't even consider dressing up for Halloween, J sure surprised me when I came home and found him all decked out for a murder mystery dinner. We were asked to get into character... I think he was disappointed when he wasn't required to do any actual rappelling, explosions, or sniping.

mommy moments

Saturday night we got home so late. It was way past Mason's bedtime. I took him straight to his room and put him straight into...a cuddle. He was goofy and sweet so I spent a long time holding and rocking him. It's not often he lets us hold him like that. I wanted to sing him to sleep but every time he'd look at me he'd laugh. Eventually we were both giggling and busting each other up. I finally put him in bed and he continued to laugh long after I closed the door.

On Sunday morning we were all feeling the effects of the late night. During the first hour of church we had to take Mason out three times. Then came time to leave him in nursery. His reaction entailed weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth. It was horrible. I burst into tears. It was heartbreaking and humiliating and so hard to walk away.

Behold the deep, powerful, wrenching emotions of being a parent. This unconditional love stuff is wearing me out. Never before have I felt so happy, so tired, so scared, so curious, and so desperate to succeed.

lkd fjg;slorjig

I'm very behind in all the things I want to write about. It's both frustrating and stimulating to have my brain crowded with things that need to be expressed. I have found so much satisfaction in writing. I've learned a lot about myself, and not just when materializing my musings, but in examining my process. I wish I could have a thought, write about it, and be done. But no. I'm trying to overcome this quirky incubation stage where the idea bothers me like a gnat. Since I can't catch it, it flits around, driving me to distraction.

Yesterday, I had several half-formulated topics stewing. I decided to jot them down to avoid forgetting them before I got around to writing about them. I grabbed a pen and paper and... nothing. Couldn't think of a single one. I have a vague recollection concerning insomnia and there was something about feminism, but I can't pull together a complete sentence even now. I keep trying to revisit those topics, but the timing is wrong. It's like throwing a couple pounds of soft butter on a pottery wheel and attempting to make a vase. No matter how hard you try, it's just not going to happen. Trying probably makes it worse. and buttery-er.

What did you do today?

Oh, I just orchestrated the distribution of 95 produce baskets. It felt good to get so much done before 11am. Now I'm ready for a nap.

I love our volunteers. And I really really love my most strong, helpful, supportive volunteer, who doesn't get to volunteer because he's forced. Sorry and thanks, Jas'.

Caught in the act

My mom is amazing. She might not have everlasting energy but she sure acts that way. From the time I can remember my mom would get up before the sun, cook a hot breakfast for my dad and have the house in order before most people have gotten out of bed. Everything is done with a hustle and flurry. Watching a movie with my mom was never a time to kick up our feet and relax. She'd be in and out of the room, folding laundry, checking on the homemade bread in the oven, answering the phone, and unloading the dishwasher. She's just that kind of gal.

My mom is getting older. I'm not being insulting; I am finally admitting the truth. Though she still gets more done in a day than I can in a week, you can tell by the end of that productive day that she's tuckered out.

Now to tease. Sometimes my dear mom will sit down "just for a minute" between chores or while watching the evening news. Her body must scream "At last! A moment to rest!" and flip the shutdown switch. In the blink of an eye, Mom will be soundly asleep. She will not admit this. If you happen to walk in on her, she will awaken, jolt to attention, and start doing something. Anything. "Oh I just closed my eyes for a second, I'm almost done reading this book", or "I wasn't asleep, I just need to finish watching the news". I don't know why she's convinced sleep is such a forbidden act, because of everyone I know she deserves it the most.

It must run in families. And yes it skipped a generation seeing as I sleep as much as possible. Little Mason acts just like his Grandma when I open his bedroom door. He startles to standing as fast as his little body can, as if to say, "I wasn't asleep, I'm ready to go! I was just playing with...my blanket! Here it is. And my dog. Here! See? Now let's go do something". I love to watch him scramble around in his crib, picking up things, pushing animals around, embarrassed to be caught sleeping.

And I love this picture. He looks so long, restful, and boyish.

Pepperbellys: Three Stars

I don't claim to be some sort of culinary expert, but I am an expert at giving my unsolicited uneducated opinion. So I've chosen to critique Pepperbellys. It is located in Richfield, UT. I have wanted to eat there since hearing it's silly name about four years ago. If we do eat out while in Richfield, we usually go to the Ideal Dairy, which I rate abillizionstarsandtwothumbsup because of their strangely addictive ice cream slush concoction. But I digress.

As soon as we walked in, were seated, and given our drinks, and served a bucket of chips to snack on, I declared Pepperbellys to be five stars in my book. The decor was "old American truck stop" and the walls were brightly painted with industrial duct material wainscoting. I was pleased with the fresh flavor of my strawberry lemonade, but Jason was excited by the size of the drinks. They were huge! For a fellow who often chokes and requires ample liquid to SURVIVE, he is certainly qualified to be critical of drink size. Finally, the chips and salsa were scrumptious, although I had been craving salsa for weeks and that might have impaired my judgement.

We should have left then whilst I was completely satisfied. Although the service was great, the food was nothing spectacular. I do consider myself very knowledgeable and experienced when it comes to quesadillas. I have had some of the best. Pepperbellys cooked up some of the worst. It was filled with more cilantro than cheese and the chicken and tortillas were dry. The guys enjoyed their food enough to finish their plates, but that's not saying much.

In the end Jason didn't choke during this meal and they sent David home with a free drink refill to go, so with those redeeming qualities the average score ends up at: THREE STARS.

I'm dying to hear the story behind this sign

Volcanic Ash

I have to admit I have a bit of a temper. I get ticked & I can't hold it in. I can't manage to behave myself. So without further ado, meet Volcanic Ash.

She's nasty. She's bitingly sarcastic and demeaning. You'll know when she's rearing her ugly head by a series of eye rolls, head shaking, and "are you an absolute idiot?" expressions.

I went to Wal-Mart to print some digital pictures. I took my poor mom who had never used the print kiosks before. I told her it would be quick, easy, and cheap. LIE.

The machines were super slow, the printing took almost a half hour for my 11 pics. The worst was when we were dashing out the door, mutually frustrated and late for appointments, and I realized the price tag on my envelope said $40! For 11 pictures! wHaT?!

I went back the next day to tell them they made a mistake. Imagine how ugly it got when they said it was not a mistake. When I get mad I tend to use very intelligent comments like "Are you freaking kidding me?" and "You've got to be crazy" and "This is SO NOT OKAY." Also, I know it really pleases the person I'm talking to if I talk really slowly and forcefully in hopes I can pound my message into their dense brain.

In the end they did a price correction that still left me fuming and with a deficit in my budget. But Volcanic Ash doesn't cool down easily. To make myself better I won't drop the issue until I get at least $10 more refunded, if not a complete refund for my pain and suffering. Also, I'm telling everyone within my circle of influence to NEVER use the Wal-Mart photo center. EVER. The UPS Store would have charged under $7 total for the same prints. Wal-Mart did not have the price anywhere for 5X7 enlargements and they feel fine charging me for the 8X10 price.

Silly me for assuming the inch increase would still be a reasonable price. I guess they think 160 times the price is reasonable.

Wise Advice

I had a clear piggy bank and some coins out for Mason to play with. It seemed like a good small motor skill activity to try to fit the coins in the little slot and then get them out of the bottom. Mason was playing on the floor and Jason went and sat with him. Quietly I heard Jason, our dear thrifty Jason, say, "That's right Mace, put all your money in there. And then go find all the money you can and keep putting it in there and save it the rest of your life."


Here's a picture of Mason playing with Mommy's wallet back in May.

Catch up on Words of the week

"Next we have Jonny. He loves his pets. He has three cats, Muffin, Swishy, and Princess. What? What? Oh. Oh Dear. Swishy is....no longer with us." -Lady introducing kids at Jackson's baptism

"Ryan woke up not feeling good. It might have been the Toaster Strudel I fed him". (Me to Kristi) "No, it was all the candy."-Nephew Ryan

"Ashley! Come quick! There's something wrong with your rocks."-Nephew Casey after Nate parked his jeep up on the boulders out front

"Seven Foods your Kids should Eat: Avocados and good Fats, Grains and Oats, Beans and Lentils, Fish, Alcohol...."-iVillage article. I think the link was wrong. Maybe not...

Growing Pains

I was just updating Mason's blog, and posting pictures of him on Halloween. I just keep looking at the pictures and I can't believe how quickly he changes. This time last year he couldn't even stand up. Everyone told me how fast he'd grow, but I'm really noticing it. "Exner" is a word my friend uses to describe that "excited/nervous" feeling. I am excited for all the new things he can do. I love witnessing his growth and learning. I'm nervous that I'm not doing a good enough job.

I also get nervous when we are apart. Before the summer I could leave him with family members and it wasn't a big deal. During the summer it was just us. My friend Kyndall watched him for an hour once so I could go to a lecture, and Sarah came over one night when he was asleep so we could go downstairs to a restaurant. That is the total amount of "babysitting" experience.

Today my brother Nate had Mason for THREE whole hours. I tried to enjoy the break and get errands done, but I couldn't relax. I felt like puking most of the time. I KNOW it is good for Mason, I KNOW it is good for me, but I still feel anxious. In two Sundays Mason will be old enough to stay in nursery by himself during our church meetings. I've gone with him to nursery a few times because he screams when we sit down for Sunday School. I KNOW he'll do fine. It's me I'm worried about.

I didn't think I'd be like this.

Why he can never retire

This is my husband Jason. Building a shed in our backyard. In three days, from the ground up. In the snow. With his bare hands. Pretty much.

Once upon a time the Starr family was moving, yet again. We had three days until we needed to be on the road. "You know, we need a shed", was how it started. A call to cousin Clint and another call to a cement company and then we were in the backyard with shovels (I brought mine along for looks). Three insanely long and cold days later and WE....HAVE...SHELTER!!!!

Next story. Jason kills himself all summer working himself ragged. Summer ends and fun starts. After a few weeks Jason says he doesn't feel productive. He goes and works at the ice plant for a few days until he's earned enough extra cash to buy a nice chainsaw. Did you know that owning a chainsaw makes you a manly man? That's what I heard. Anyway, Jason goes all lumber-jacky on me and spends long days on the mountain and late nights in the back yard getting firewood. I thought he was *maybe* going a little overboard until suddenly it snowed and it's FREEZING. Lucky me, I have a ton of wood and a charming cozy fireplace.

Although we are uber conservative with our money and can usually make our summer money last all year, with a mortgage it was going to be too tight. The bachelors degree turned out not to be such a good investment with the pitiful job market. Bummer. Hopefully that will change, but until then I am blown away by Jason's work ethic. He stayed busy working odd jobs, until another opportunity opened up. Now he leaves early in the morning and works pretty late some days. I know he doesn't love the job, but he loves to work.

The other day he didn't get home until 9pm. 13 hour day. He grabbed some dinner and then dashed to church ball. He had the next day off so I figured he'd take it easy. By ten the next morning I heard his famous line, "I don't feel productive" and he was off! Fixing bathtubs, working on cars, and doing whatever it is guys do in the yard.

So this is why he can never retire. As much as he likes fishing I just don't think he could relax long enough. After a few days of that and I think we would hear, yet again, "I don't feel productive".

Small Town Saturday

This is why I love living in Cedar. Jason left early in the morning to go up to Crystal Springs to get a load (or two!) of firewood with Bo. Mason and I left the house early and went to a few yard sales. I'm especially excited to have found a sturdy little table and part of Mason's Christmas. I regret not buying the paintball gun (sorry boys). On our way home, Andy texted to see if we were going to the parade. What parade? It doesn't matter, Cedar has parades for any random reason. I didn't plan on going but I realized I was on the "wrong" side of Main Street and it would be easier to go than to try to find a way home. We met up with Andy, Emily, Nate and kids, D'Var and Bethany, Long lost Lehn, and other friends. We saw Carolyn and Collin for the first time in almost a year. We may have been the only ones NOT in Wranglers, as it was the Cedar Livestock Festival after all. The parade was full of all things cowboy. Mason almost ran into the hundreds of sheep that come last, but was saved by the fast reflexes of cousin Casey. Everyone went to the rodeo grounds, but we headed home to put Mason down for a nap. After the nap we went to a grocery store, DI, and then bought a chicken chile tamale off the street. I've been craving another one ever since. I love being able to go to fun events, get from one end of town to another in 10 minutes max, and live near the mountain and my family.

I'd really enjoy traveling through time to tell 17 year old Ashley that she'll wind up moving back and loving Cedar. She'd probably not believe me.

HUGE SAVINGS!

Silly Wal-Mart