Because what else in our life do we have to blog about right now?

We have a really, really long icicle hanging on our front porch. We've taken notice of it and Andrew and I have started having lengthy discussions about it, rooting for it, and yes...I admit I may have even talked to it a few times on my out to work in the morning: "Well, aren't you getting big!" Andrew was even harboring some secret bitterness at the couple living downstairs, because he thought they had broken it off at one point. It's all very silly how excited we are over this giant ice-spike of death (you would die instantly if it fell on you), but at least we haven't given it a name...yet.

But it keeps going...

and going...

...and going!


Andrew finally pulled out his measuring tape and went out in his socks last night (in 12 F) to satisfy our curiosity. We now officially anounce that this monstrosity of an icicle is currently 7 feet 6 inches long.

...and still going strong. We're hoping that it will reach the sidewalk making us the only house on the block whose front porch is held up by apillar of ice. We may just start accepting bets for it's final measurement...or maybe even start selling tickets for a view of the most exciting aspect of our lives at the moment. (All at a reasonable price, of course.)

My Second True Love...

.

(WARNING: Post contains an extreme level of sickly, sweet romantic sentiments.)

.

I don't think there is a more perfect, more beautiful flower than the tulip. In the spring time, here in Idaho, just about everyone has tulips popping up in their yard. It is a very magical couple of weeks for me. They make my heart so happy.
.

Here are some Valentine's Day tulips from my first true love.

Thanks, Babe.

.

It's All My Mom's Fault.

She's the one who ingrained in my brain so consistently since I could walk the idea that I "must not let the cold air out of the refrigerator!" Now days, when I see anyone stand too long with the fridge door open, I can feel my left eye start to twitch and the adrenaline rush through my body as I work to suppress my ridiculous desire to slam it shut. I say all of this somewhat facetiously...but my OCD in this case has gone through a difficult trial since getting married...

Andrew must walk into the kitchen, open the fridge, stare into the fridge, close the fridge, open the freezer, stare into the freezer, close the freezer and then walk away empty handed a million and a half times a day. Can anyone relate to this? He goes through this routine every restless or dull moment of the day. Honestly, I am baffled by it. I swear Andrew is not starving to death. I mean, we are usually well-stocked! So why is he constantly on the half-hunt for food? I'll mention to Andrew: "nothing in the fridge has changed since the last time you opened it...only five minutes ago!" But he'll just shrug. I don't think he understands this compulsion either. He just understands that if he doesn't complete this task twenty-three more times before the end of the day...he just might drop dead. This is one of those mysteries of the universe that I ponder about sometimes. I didn't exactly grow up with males in the house, so I am uneducated in this area. Let me throw this question out into the cosmic void, and maybe someone can shed some light on it for me: Is this common among the men of the world? Or is my sweetheart an isolated case? Has a discovery been made yet as to the cause of this strange phenomenon? And is there hope for a cure? In the meantime, I'll sit here while my eye twitches. =)

Snowboarding!

Andrew has been wanting to get into it for awhile now. (I personally had no desire to go careening down a mountain to my death in the freezing weather.) But we recently acquired snowboarding gear for both of us at an amazing price (I got my board, bindings, and boots...in amazing condition...for 50 bucks!) , and so we had to go out and try them.

I didn't want to pay money to go to a mountain where fifty snowboarding experts could laugh at my pain, so we practiced on deserted hills outside of Rexburg. (The no ski lift thing, however, may convince me otherwise pretty soon.)

Growing up in Arizona provided me with more opportunities to play in water that wasn't frozen. However, I was pretty pleased with myself considering it was my first time everon the snow. And despite all my whining...I honestly thought it was really fun. Now I just need to get past my overwhelming desire to sit down every time I start to gain any real speed. I'm excited to go again.