Work To Do

Today I went to BYU for the annual Women's Conference. It was strange to be walking around the campus again-- brought back not such great memories. I seem to be in a small minority of people who hated their time at BYU.

That aside, I had a good day. I spent the whole day learning about things that I need to work on. I probably could have come up with them on my own, but instead, all of these nice speakers did it for me.

It wasn't like that, really-- but I did have to laugh at the irony of the talk which gave 4 steps to not overburdening yourself. I seemed to be the only one who thought it was funny.

The best part of the day was unexpected for me. During the opening presentation, the speaker had a lady named Marrilee Webb do a 15 minute presentation/practice of the song "Now Let Us Rejoice." (Tina, I see why you liked singing in her choir so much now!) Did you know that W.W. Phelps wrote that song in the midst of the Saints greatest turmoil in Missouri? When he's talking about the scourges and harvest being over, he's being literal.

Anyway, there were thousands of women in that room and she had us stand and sing that hymn at the top of our lungs. It felt like bearing my testimony at camp-- you know that feeling where you are wrapped up in love and unity and you can see what heaven feels like for just a second? I had this glimpse that all of those women were my sisters and ultimately, we all wanted the same thing.

Too bad those kinds of feelings don't stay around so long. Pretty soon, I was getting jostled around in lines, trying to pick my way around people who stopped to talk in crowded hallways, and bumping elbows with a woman who was taking up way too much of my space. It was far too easy to forget that these same annoying people were the sisters that I felt so much love for hours before.

Like I said. I have a lot of work to do.

What It Feels Like To Ride Up the Matterhorn

The wind finally stopped blowing this morning. The sun was shining. The road on 300 north was finally repaved and cleaned up. Doug was at pre-school. This was the recipe for a perfect ride.


I was feeling great, so I headed up to Alpine. I figured that a little climbing would do me good. (What was I thinking?)


I got into Alpine pretty quickly-- love those new wheels! I was feeling so good, that I decided to tackle the Matterhorn. Matterhorn Road, that is. This picture is at the top of the road: (Point is, there is NOTHING higher.)

The road gets real steep, real fast. Before I get 100 yards into it, I'm already shifted down into my "granny" ring (smallest chain ring in front.) I start shifting down my cogs in back and before long, I run out of them too. I'm less than 25% into the climb, and I'm already as low as I go. This can't be good.



I push and push and get about a third of the way up-- and that's when the fun really starts. That's when the grade gets to be about 9% or so and you have to keep pedalling or you'll fall over.

Just about then, my heart starts pounding in my chest so hard that it hurts. All of those health websites tell me that my maximum heart rate should be about 185. I wasn't wearing my heart rate monitor, but I know that my heart rate was faster than the beat of the Offspring song I was listening to-- at least 180 beats per minute. Also not good.



I finally got to the halfway point of the climb where God (and the city of Alpine) put a little flat with a STOP sign. Although I tend to run stop signs when no one is around, I made sure to stop at this one. For like a minute. Here's the view from here- and, trust me, the picture doesn't do it justice. (You'll notice the hill from the picture above at the top of this road.)

I seriously considered turning around at this point, but my competitive drive pushed me on. After I stopped, it didn't seem so hard. For about 10 seconds, anyway. Then, my legs started to HURT. I am tempted to stand up and let my body weight help me push the pedals down, but I know that will just drive my heart rate up even further and, well, that might kill me. I keep my butt on the seat.

I try every trick I can think of. I count my pedal strokes. I only look up every 50 yards or so. I am breathing so hard that it feels like I will suck up all of the oxygen in the city. My lungs are burning and my mouth tastes metallic. I'd like to take a drink, but I'm afraid to take a hand off the handlebars. I try to spit. Nothing is there.

My chest hurts and I start seeing stars. What the heck am I doing? Why do I get so excited to come out and do this-- this sucks! I must be nuts.

Just when I can't pedal one more stroke, I reach the top.

I am sucking wind and considering puking, but a little old couple is on a walk at the top of the street and they are already looking at this spandex-clad freak like I'm from Mars. I keep my puke to myself. I turn around, and this is what I see:
This picture also doesn't do justice to the view. I can see the Temple in the distance-- I know that my house is just a mile down from it. No wonder people pay so much to live up here.

Now for the reward (besides the view, that is). I start down the hill. It takes about 1/5 of the time to get down as it did to get up. My speed hits about 35 mph and the adrenaline kicks in. I realize that if I sneeze or jerk, I will probably die. What a rush!

I did nearly 20 more miles after that. By the time I got home, I was feeling spent. (That doesn't bode well for the 100 mile ride I'm supposed to do in 6 weeks.) I've been ravenous all day. Good thing that I burned nearly 1800 calories on my ride.

I think I'll go get a shake.

Wind Blows!

They say that smoke follows beauty.

I think that wind must too.

All I know is that the wind is seriously hampering every activity I attempt. :-)

Besides knocking down the branch in my yard last week (ok, Wind had help from Snow on that one, but Snow's not my friend either), Wind is making it awfully hard to ride my bike.

Wind made Michael's baseball game miserable.

Wind is making it hard to get my garden planted. Okay, maybe Wind is giving me a good excuse on that one.

I'm tired of picking up branches blown down from the tree in my front yard.

I'm tired of rides being harder than they should be because I'm fighting the wind.

I'm tired of not sleeping because I'm afraid the wind is going to blow a branch into my bedroom.

I'm ready for nice weather already, dang it!

Why It's Not Okay to Throw Like a Girl-- Even If You Are One

One of that hats I'm wearing these days is a baseball hat that says "Coach" on it. I spend 2 hours a week trying to teach 8 nine year old girls how to hit and throw. Specifically, how NOT to throw like a girl.

Now normally, I wouldn't encourage non-lady-like behavior. (Well, maybe I would, but my definition of lady-like may vary from some of yours :-) However, when you're talking about baseball (or softball, as the case may be), there's nothing worse than throwing like a girl.

You'd think that I'd be offended by that, wouldn't you? I should at least defend our gender and be upset at such a generalization. The thing is, it is true.

Nearly every girl I've ever seen initially throws, well, like a girl. Sort of that timid little come-from-behind-the-head-push-it-like-a-shot-put kind of throw. You know, the one that goes right at the ground. About 10 feet away.

My sons don't throw like that. They are not super-stars, by any means, but they instinctively throw correctly. The boys on Mike's baseball team, while 2 years younger than the girls on my team, throw better and harder than the girls. I can't figure it out. What I do know, is that after weeks of hard work, my little Em (in the catcher's equipment in the pic) is finally throwing like a boy. It's one of my greater accomplishments.

So, girls, it is wonderful to be feminine-- except when there's a baseball glove on your hand. And, boys, if someone tells you that you cook like a girl, think like a girl, or talk like a girl, you should be flattered. But if they tell you that you throw like one, and rightly so, you'd better find a good coach.

PTA = Pain in The Arse.

I haven't blogged for a few days-- I've been busy.

One of the too-many hats I wear lately is that of PTA co-president. This hat is an ugly one sometimes and like a hat that's a little too tight, it gives me a headache.

Luckily, my sentence for wearing this hat is nearly up. There are 24 1/2 days left of school (but who's counting?)

To be perfectly honest, this job hasn't been as bad as I thought, but it definitely has its moments. Like this week.

Today was our fundraising walkathon. We've been working on this for weeks. We've begged and pleaded for funds and prizes for local businesses. (I hate doing that!) It's taken countless hours of planning and preparation. Amazingly, it went really well.

We raised over $6,000 today and I am breathing a sigh of relief. I've been so amazed at how generous people have been, in spite of the rough economy.

Mostly, I am just glad to have one more thing checked off my list.

Parent Teacher Association or Pain in The Arse? PTA stands for both, I guess.

24 1/2 days and it's not my problem anymore.

Ahhh. Relief.

The Great Wabbit Hunt

Hallelujah-- it finally feels like spring!

True to form, Layne came home with two sets of the awesome carbon wheels we demo'd on Saturday. Wicked cool-- that's pretty much all there is to say.

I've been dreaming about them all weekend. I couldn't keep my mind on church because my thoughts kept drifting. (They kept getting rudely pulled back by the speaker who was discoursing on the topic of living prudently. I tried not to feel a little guilty.)

I took them out this afternoon. Finally a ride with no jacket or tights. I wanted to see what they could do.

I went toward Saratoga Springs. I know that route very well-- I knew how fast I could do it pre-Aeolus, and I wanted to compare and see what they really did for me.

I thought I was flying.

After a while, I'm cruising along about 20 mph and I see a cyclist up ahead.

"Hehwoh, Wabbit", I think to myself. Sure, Wabbit is 1/4 mile away, but nothing can evade me and my Pink Monster today. I start pedaling faster.

I'm gaining on the yellow-jerseyed, white helmeted Wabbit quickly. I must be Superwoman.

I'm ready to pounce. I get my breathing under control so that when I pass the Wabbit, I can completely demoralize him with the obviously minimal effort it took me to pass him and leave him in my dust.

Except that my Wabbit was not really Wabbit. It was a little old lady (think like 80 years old) riding an ancient cruiser with white hair (no helmet) and a yellow polyester shirt. (NOT a cycling jersey, although they are made of polyester too. But they're different. I promise!)

Mostly I felt bad flying past her and her dentured grin. And I felt stupid that it took me even that long to pass near-dead Wabbit.

Guess you can't win them all.

Love the Salt Lake Marathon! (Bike Tour, that is)

Layne and I just got back from probably the most fun organized ride we do all year-- the Salt Lake Marathon Bike Tour. What makes this ride so much fun is that they close all of the roads-- 26.2 miles of fast, closed roads. Sure, we had to get up at 4:00 in the blessed am, but it was worth it.

Besides riding with a new riding buddy (we'll call him Brian), we were conducting an experiment. Layne and I were test riding carbon aero wheels from Trek

First off, we were trying to see how much of a difference carbon wheels REALLY make-- are they worth the booku bucks they cost? Secondly, we were trying different kinds to see which one was better. (After extensive testing-- up and down our street-- unfortunately for our checkbook, the more expensive wheels really were better.)
We tried really hard not to leave our newbie in the dust. He did a great job keeping up with us-- even with our slowing to wait for him a few times, we still averaged 18.5 miles per hour. There was one point on the Van Winkle Expressway where we really wanted to try them out-- we were riding in a paceline with each other at 30 mph easily.

Verdict's in: carbon wheels rock. Seriously-- feels like you're floating.

I don't know if we'll get them or not-- knowing Layne, probably yes-- either way-- they contributed to the most fun I've had in a while! (Thanks, Nicole, for keeping the kids overnight for us!)

Last Day of Spring Break

All in all, we've had a fun week. We've done something fun every day (well, fun for the kids, anyway ;-)


Layne took today off. We slept in (hooray!) then went up to the Alpine Arts Center. Due to some cool trading on Layne's part, we were able to commission Dennis Smith to do a painting for us. It's not finished yet, but here's a preview. I love it. I will post better pics when it is finished.

Yes, that is our house and our giant tree in front. (Maybe I should make him paint over the branch that fell down and take out the bushes by the front door that I just had ripped out?) One funny thing-- our family is in the pic-- Em's riding her bike, the boys are playing on the lawn, Layne was raking leaves (haha) and I am sitting by the tree. With another little girl. Where'd she come from?

Anyway, after that, we went to the Salt Palace to get our registration stuff for the marathon tomorrow and then to this awesome (and awesomely expensive) Italian restaurant for real Italian pizza and gelato. I know, that's not diet food, but I was reasonable about it-- and I'm down 5 pounds so far! Then we went to REI and I got some new Keen sandals. Good day for me! Even makes up for having to go swimming yesterday!

The Sky Is Falling!

Yesterday was one of those days when nothing went quite right-- everything seemed harder than it should have been.


I slept terribly the night before. A planned trip to Ikea was cut short when one of the kids puked. Attempts to help a friend get ready for a trip were ineffective. Layne had a crappy day at work too, and by the time night came we were both pretty well spent.


Our kids had a cousin sleep-over, and we counted it as a pretty big accomplishment that we had 6 kids asleep by 11:00 pm. In we settled for our long winter's nap.


At 2:00 am, there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter. The streetlight was shining on new fallen snow (in April?), giving luster to the TREE fallen on the lawn below.

Yep. The CRACK then THUMP! was a HUGE branch falling out of our elm tree in front.

As I had 5 boys in the house, when I heard the sound, I assumed it had something to do with them. I got that adrenaline feeling-- heart beating fast, shallow breath, muscles tense-- you know the one-- and had to check everything out. Once I decided that the kids were fine (they slept through the racket), the Jeep parked in front was fine and that the house hadn't been hit, I tried to go back to sleep.

It took hours for me to get back to sleep-- and just as I did, CRACK, THUMP!-- another branch had broken off and fallen out of the tree-- right across the driveway. That was pretty much it for the sleep. After that, every sound I heard was another branch breaking.

The branch was too big for us to move out of the way, so I drove Layne to work so that I could have a car. Needless to say, his foul mood from last night has not improved any-- neither has mine, although I'm starting to see a little humor in the situation. It's either laugh about the whole thing (and be grateful that it wasn't worse!) or cry.

Spring Break Day 2

So, I am still here.

In Antartica.


After looking at the forecast and realizing that it was going to be rainy and bad in St. George for two days too, I weighed my options and decided to stay. Really, who wants to be cramped up in a tiny hotel room with 3 crazy monkeys?


No thanks.


We went to Kangaroo Zoo instead. (That was a nice follow up to Hogle Zoo yesterday, I thought.)

I am still "on the wagon", FYI. I have even survived Easter candy, so far. (We won't talk about the free weekend I proclaimed.) I gave the kids each a gallon sized ziploc bag, told them to put all of their treats in it and hide it somewhere from me-- and if they left it out, I would throw it away.

It's worked so far. I have seen the occasional Reeses wrapper lying around (I am trying to avoid licking them clean :-) but overall, it's going well. It needs to be. This is too flippin' hard to ruin for some crappy Whopper eggs.

I can't wait for Saturday-- it's the Salt Lake Marathon. No, I'm not running it. (Are you nuts?) Two hours before they start the runners, they let cyclists ride the course. 26 miles on closed roads in Salt Lake-- it is a blast. Anyone want to join?

Sprung Break (Not a spelling error.)

Spring Break has sprung. Today we went to the zoo with 11 of our closest friends. It was an adventure, as the oldest was 10 and five of them were under 3. It would have been more fun if the rest of Utah wouldn't have been there as well. Everyone else checked the weather report to see that today was going to be the ONLY good day of the whole break. That stinks.
I'm seriously considering packing the kids up and heading to Southern Utah for a few days. I can't seem to make up my mind. Layne can't come, so I would be taking the brundt of the kids spring break energy on myself. Although, if we stay here, I will still get most of that energy plus the cooped-in-nothing-to-do energy.

It looks like this week blows for me no matter which way I go.

Hair Day

I have awesome sisters. Each of them has talents they are kind enough to share with our family. Lucky for me, they all live close and I see them often.

My sister Nicole is a hair stylist-- and a very good one at that. She spent the whole day yesterday at my mom's house doing 11 haircuts and/or colors. It took about 8 hours, all told. She must have been exhausted, but she was so nice.

Here's a few funny pics:

Caleb

Dougie begged to have his hair "bleached" too.

Em getting a weave. Mike said she was getting her hair "tie-dyed"

I think I made a mistake-- she looks way too grown up like this!

Thanks Nicole!

My Easter Addiction

So, the Easter Bunny came last night and he brought me an awesome new toy:


For years, we've had our cell phones through Qwest--I'm talking like 9 years. We got a postcard the other day saying that they were no longer offering wireless service, so we had to find something else.

This was reason enough for Layne to go on a quest. (No pun intended:-) He went to a seminar about selling to different groups of people-- and they said that Generation X stalks their purchases-- which is exactly what Layne does.

He went to all of the cell phone places and sat in front of the computer for hours. He tried to explain it to me, and I finally had to stop him and tell him I had the same amount of interest in this as he had when I was deciding what color of ties to buy the boys for Easter.

He came home with iphones yesterday.

I've been strictly on the bare-bones phone for all this time. It did NOTHING but call and get calls.

Now, I have this super-cool thing that I can't seem to put down.

I played on it until 1:00 this morning. I've been looking for cool grocery list apps and ringtones all afternoon. I can blog from it! Coolest of all, there's this weight loss coach which tracks how much you should be eating, what you ate already, figures in exercise, etc. to help you make whatever goal you set. Love it! (Plus, I think twice about eating anything because I am dang slow at the touch keyboard thing.)

So, I am officially announcing my arrival into the 21st century. The only problem is that iphones don't come in pink!

My Easter Basket

Remember how cool it was to get an Easter basket when you were little? I remember one time, the Easter Bunny gave us Easter sand-pails instead of baskets and he hid them under our beds. I also remember always getting a new spring dress and how much fun it was to go to church.

I've been thinking about Easter Baskets and that it would be fun to have one now. Although, now that I'm in Diet Hell, I guess I'd have to forgo the Snickers and Cadbury Eggs. (Sigh.) Here's what I'd want the Easter Bunny to bring, if grown-ups got baskets. (And no, Layne, you are NOT to go out and get me this stuff!)

* The new U2 album. What I've heard of it so far has not made me run out and buy it, but if the Easter Bunny's giving it to me free, then what the heck?
*New cute black shoes that I can wear with skirts without nylons. I've been looking for the perfect shoes for months with no luck. Maybe the Easter Bunny knows the shoe fairy.
*A gorgeous new Easter dress that makes me look like I'm a size 6.
*A whole bunch of the light blue kind of Stride gum-- I'm chewing a lot of it lately to trick myself into thinking there's something good in my mouth.
*A copy of These Is My Words by Nancy Turner, as that seemed to be the book that everyone I know recommended to me after my last unfortunate book review. (Note to Shaunte-- you were right. I'll be dead before it's my turn to check it out of the library.)
*New mascara. I know that I need to replace mine, but I'm too flippin' cheap.
*A new lawnmower that works like those Roomba vacuums. Wouldn't that be the bomb?

Not much, right? He is magic, after all. . .

Day 2 Am I Skinny Yet?

It seems like every day of dieting takes Herculean efforts and should immediately be rewarded with, oh, say a 5 pound loss. The more you try not to think about all the yummy stuff you're not eating, the more it stays on your mind.

I know, I know-- don't tell me all that stuff about "eat what you want in moderation". I'm not on that kind of diet. I could probably write a book about eating right, losing weight, exercise, blah, blah, blah.

The problem is that I don't know how to eat a bag of peanut m&ms "in moderation". Five of the little beauties isn't going to do anything for me but whet my appetite.

Besides, this isn't one of those changing-my-lifestyle-gonna-eat-this-way-forever kind of things. This is the I've-got-a-hundred-mile-ride-coming-up-in-8-weeks-and-I've-got-to-get-the-winter-weight-off-my-butt kind of diet.

It didn't help (or maybe it did) that the first talk of General Conference was on overcoming addiction-- and he lumped food into the same category as debt, pornography and drugs. Right as I was happily munching on a chocolate Reisen. Talk about a downer.

Once upon a time, I thought that at some point in my life, I would once and for all conquer this issue and I could move on to the next in a line of endless character flaws. Elder Hales' talk made me realize that, like the apostle Paul who was cursed with some lifetime weakness himself, some weaknesses are never going to go away. They are conquered on a daily basis, but just because you came off the victor today, doesn't guarantee you anything tomorrow.

So, I've had two good days. I pray for one tomorrow-- and that's about as far ahead as I dare look!

Back on the Wagon. Again.

It was a bitter sweet day-- mostly bitter. Today, I hauled my fat butt back on the healthy wagon. That wagon left me behind about 6 months ago and the results are not good. I guess I thought that, because I worked so hard to lose weight, that it would never find me again.

Boy, was I wrong.

Here are my top 7 signs it's time to get serious about losing weight (again.)

7. I started justifying my food choices-- Doritos are made of corn-- that makes them vegetables?
6. When I put on a t-shirt, my inclination is to pull my knees up in it to stretch it out.
5. I have to weigh myself twice because I'm positive the first one CANNOT be right.
4. My five year old mentions, "Gosh Mom, you sure like chocolate a lot lately!"
3. Instead of being happy for my friends who have recently lost weight, I hate them. (Just kidding, guys! Sort of.)
2. I take extra long showers-- just to steam up the mirror so I don't have to see myself.
1. I'm dreading washing my jeans because I lose circulation in my feet after they come out of the dryer. (Can I get one more day of wear out of this broken-in pair?)

So, it is with sadness and trepidation that I venture back into the world of keeping a food journal and eating carrot sticks. (Ugh.)

The problem with round two is that I know what works, and I remember how hard it is. I know that, if I want to have any hope of finishing that 100 mile ride in June, I've got to get serious, though.

Here's to celery. . .

(Sigh.)

Random Friday Thoughts

Random thoughts on my mind.


1. Thanks to my friend Helene, I actually made one of those sugar Easter egg things today with Doug. I have proof.

Very domestic of me, huh?

2. As Layne has been gone, I chose bribery (as opposed to beating) as my form of zookeeping this week. I promised my kids that if they gave me ZERO trouble at all while Layne was gone, I would take them to Monsters vs. Aliens 3D. We went and here's my review: it was all right. I know, my usual level of verbosity (is that a word?) is lacking here, but that's all I came up with. They liked it though, so it's all good. I'm wishing that I wouldn't have eaten popcorn and Cadbury eggs for dinner, though-- and now I'm thinking I've got to go make up for it on the trainer.

3. I stayed up until 2:00 in the morning last night finishing The Time Traveler's Wife. I have to say, I'm actually embarrassed to admit that I read it, as it contains some language and graphic imagery that is definitely not suitable for children or adults who give a rip about morality. I am confessing my faux pas for one reason-- to let you all know that I have ripped up that BBC reading list. I am now in search of a list of good reading material that is NOT offensive. Is there such a list? Does it contain any books that don't have pictures?

I did join www.goodreads.com last night, if anyone wants to be my book-friend. And I should probably stop reading for a little while, as a few things have gotten neglected around here. (Laundry? What laundry?) Maybe I'll start that plan after I read the new Fablehaven.

The End of An Era

I am sitting here, by myself (Layne's in Dallas-- at a Joan Jett concert, if you can believe it! He says he's working, but I don't know. . .) Anyway, I am sitting here by myself watching the last ER-- Ever.

I remember watching ER with my roomies at Utah State. When I came home from my mission, I sat and watched all the ones I missed. Luckily, I married a guy who likes the show too. It's kind of been our thing. I've spent a good percentage of the Thursday nights of my adult life watching this show.

Really, I don't know why. It's not like the show wasn't always about the same people. Even when the actors left, they essentially found someone to just step into the vacant role. If I'm being completely honest, it was mostly a weekly soap opera.

ER is the only show that I could tell you what day and time it's on. On the NBC site, there is a trivia game that I seriously kicked butt on. Here's my list of top ten ER moments.

10. The one where Abby and Luke get back together for good.

9. When Mark asks Elizabeth to marry him with the ring in the freezer of their new house.

8. The one where Doug Ross helps the little boy when he's not supposed to and eventually ends up leaving. (That was a SAD, SAD day.)

7. The ones where Carter goes to Africa to save Luka.

6. The Christmas one where Peter gives up surgery at county to be with his son and Cleo.

5. When Lucy and Carter get stabbed and Lucy dies.

4. Abby and Luka's wedding.

3. The very sad episode where Mark Greene died. (Did you see his daughter come back as a med student tonight? Talk about tying up loose ends!)

2. Dr. Romano's untimely demise. (Remember when the helicopter landed on him? After the helicopter cut off his arm, you'd think the guy would have stayed FAR away.)

1. Carol leaving everything to follow Doug Ross.

In trying to make this list, I had to laugh a little at all of the people who have died on this show. They're not kidding when they call it a drama.

What I really want to know is what the heck I'm going to do with my Thursday nights now?

Added later: The last episode is now over, and I have to admit I feel a little like something died. I may have to go find the bag of Cadbury Eggs I had Dougie hide from me this afternoon. We all grieve in our own way. . . :-)

My Three Fools

I don't love April Fool's Day. Yep. I'm a scrooge here too. I've never liked playing practical jokes much-- seems like a lot of effort for no good return. Obviously, I hate being the brunt of them too.

My mom used to play a trick or two-- she'd put a paper towel in the middle of our sandwich or leave the wrapper on the cheese. Never really appreciated that either.

My kids didn't inherit my practical streak. They woke up at 6:00 this morning. They turned every picture in the house upside down on the walls. They rearranged all of the furniture in the living room. They turned all of the dishes upside down in the cupboards. They switched all of the cereals inside of the boxes. They hid one of every shoe in the house. It's like gremlins moved in.

When we came down, they were bursting at the seams with mirth at their trickery. They did pull off a lot of "foolery" for three little munchkins. I tried to think they were funny, but mostly I just had to roll my eyes.

Here's the problem with practical jokes-- somebody has to clean them up. Sure, the kids tried. But, guess who had to go around after them straightening pictures, putting the furniture where it belonged, and putting away stray shoes?

The real joke was the weather. What is with waking up to a blizzard? I was supposed to drive Layne to the airport early this morning, but I chickened out when I saw Mother Nature's little joke this morning. Guess she got us all. Wonder who's going to clean up her mess?