Now is not a good time to take your boat out onto the Snake River. It may be at other times of the year, a wide raging torrent of adventure...
But it is currently, a shallow trickle. And your husband may have to pull the boat by hand...upstream... for at least a mile...to get back to the dock.
Andrew and I traveled down to small-town Utah to visit Erin (Andrew's sis), meet her fiance, and photograph them some engagement pictures.
Our first morning there, I woke at dawn to the sounds of cows and roosters, and went outside to explore.
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The rising sun made for beautiful lighting to take pictures.
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And it was a perfect, peaceful morning.
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As I was concentrating on taking this rustic shot...
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...I spotted a rooster, casually pecking the ground nearby.
Oh, what a cute, little rooster! I crooned.
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How embarrassingly naive, I was.
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The next time I took my eye from the view finder, the rooster was puttering around right at my feet.
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Hi, wittle guy! I cried.
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It was at about this time, however, before I had any time to defend myself, that the rooster unexpectedly--and unjustifiably--attacked me. He ran at full speed ahead, wings outstretched, and with fire in his eyes.
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I'm getting up with the sun. 
The bed is getting made.
Yummy, healthy breakfasts are being prepared...
...And getting eaten peacefully outside on the red picnic table. 
Plants are getting watered. 
The garden is growing.
The floor is getting swept. 
Books are getting read--just for fun. 
Laundry is getting done. 
My grandma is the funniest, feistiest grandma ever. (Lane, remember when she kept referring to you as Junior? Ha!) Recently, she wrote this in our family newsletter:"You won't believe what I did. My sister has read all these Twilight Books so she wanted to see the movie. I haven't read them nor will I ever read them. But I went with both of my sisters and some of their children and grandchildren to see the last movie. I do not understand why anyone in their right mind would want to marry a vampire or a wolf!!! Nothing made much sense to me. Well, anyway, don't waste your money on it."
I've had the same nightmare for about three nights now. It is really, really awful! I wake up in a panic, my heart racing, my hands clutching at the pillow...I don't even think I can talk about it. 
On the bright side, I treated myself to new shoes yesterday.
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I know I just got rid of half my shoes, but in order to justify buying these, I had to get rid of yet another pair from my closet. And I've been pining after red flats for a LONG time.
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This morning, as I was getting dressed for church, the red shoes were the first things I put on. As in, I had to remove my pajama pants from over them...which wasn't easy. And I've been home from church for 5 hours now, and...oh look...these babies are still on my feet.
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I love them.
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So, I'm guessing that summer in Rexburg is in full swing...judging from the line at the local SnoShack the other day.
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I'm thinkin' that my red flats and I should take a walk for a snow cone sometime. Andrew can come too if he wants.
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The whole evening cost us two bucks, and it was actually really, really fun.
My dentist's name is Dr. Couch. I imagined getting my teeth worked on while laying nestled in a soft, fluffy, microfiber couch. The experience was not as pleasant, as I had envisioned. Maybe I should sue for false advertising.
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After the all-day appointment, my jaw was so stiff and sore...I couldn't fit a spoon of Frosted Mini Wheats into my mouth for a week. I was sedated and on laughing gas, so I really don't remember much of the horrible ordeal. But I do remember two things:
1.) I woke up once to the the dentist's assistance wiping tears from both of my cheeks. Apparently, I had been crying. Slightly embarrassing.
2.) I woke up soon after we had begun, giggling like a goon (laughing gas, remember). I needed to tell the the dentist something, but the thought of saying it out loud sounded so silly to my brain, that it took a few moments of delirious chortling before I could even get it out.
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"Ummm...Dr.? I...have...to...PEEEEEE!!!"
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I was a little out of it, but I'm pretty sure this was followed by another fit of hysterics.
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I'm also pretty sure that Dr. Couch sighed heavily before un-clipping my dental bib. And that the assistants had to practically carry me to the bathroom where I very indignantly chastised them for thinking I needed any help whatsoever in the stall.
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After I got home, and the medicines began to wear off, and I started to review in my mind the day's events...my cruel memory began to piece together that my oh-so-hilarious peeing episode may not, in actuality, have been an amusing dream. My reserved, appropriate self, would never announce such a personal need to perfect strangers. Right??
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At this point, I'm maintaining that it was another nightmare.
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But it wouldn't hurt to avoid Dr. Couch's office for a little while either. Just in case.
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Today, I put an inanimate object in the time-out chair. The object was being disruptive, causing contention, and I had had enough. .
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I was attempting to get breakfast served to five squirmy toddlers, while my two-year-old's bowl was repeatedly traveling from his head, to his brother's head, zooming through the air, and clattering to the floor. "Keep your bowl on the table, Cole," I tried. He glanced at me off-handedly without the slightest change in behavior.
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I was losing my patience. The struggle it took to get everyone sitting at the table with their hand's washed in the first place, was enough to make me balk at the idea of removing him for a time-out. Plus, we were on a tight schedule. Mostly out of desperation, I took the bowl and said with sympathy:
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"Oh man! It looks like your bowl needs to practice holding still at the table! He (the bowl) is not being very nice, so I am going to put him right here in time-out for one minute."
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The other children giggled at the sight of the bowl on the chair in the corner, but Cole sure didn't. After his initial shock, he folded his chubby arms and glared at me--his pouty lip on at full force.
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But I was able to use that minute to get everyone else's bowls filled and ready to eat. And when I returned and filled Cole's own naughty bowl, it remained flat on the table...just like a good little bowl should.
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I felt slightly foolish. But the lesson was taught, I didn't cause tears or tantrums, and nobody got smacked around...phew!
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Now it's got me thinking...what other inanimate objects can I put in the time-out chair? Bills? Laundry? My new house plant that has slowly started to wither despite my tender care?
If only...
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My first order of business was to get rid of LOADS and LOADS of stuff!
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Why did I ever feel I might need this stuff in the first place? Where did all this junk come from, anyway? And why did I feel the need to horde every shoe I've ever owned since my feet stopped growing nearly 15 years ago?
.After several carloads to the local Deseret Industries, I felt like I at least had room to begin the organizing.
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As part of this endeavor, I made an ironclad decision to get rid of shoes. LOTS of shoes.
Our sock situation has been enough to drive me over the edge for quite some time now. We've just been throwing all of our socks into these 5 organizer drawers in no particular order. Within the same drawer were my socks, my nylons, Andrew's socks, a gazillion socks with holes in the toe, and a jazillion socks with no match.
First off, I threw everything out with holes. An entire grocery bag full. Then, I labeled the drawers according to style and owner.
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My favorite part was designating one of the little drawers entirely for mismatched socks. Instead of throwing them in with the mix, they are separated and ready to be rummaged through as needed. Every time I fold laundry, I just pull this little drawer out, find as many mates as I can, and then put it away for next time.
Oh the simple joys of housekeeping.
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My bathroom drawers were bad. Quite horrifying actually. They were the result of frantically getting ready for work, after sleeping in late, these past two years.
Each drawer was a hodgepodge of makeup, hair styling products, bobby pins, rubber bands, lotion, perfumes, deodorants, chap sticks, q-tips, face wash, nail polish, contacts, and every other womanly whatchamacallit.
In my search for organization methods, I turned to little cardboard boxes. I cut off the tops, arranged them in the drawers, and assigned it a specific job. For example, one box now holds the nail polishes all together...in one place. Not in four different drawers. It's now the same with the bobby pins, chap sticks, and makeup I use on a daily basis..
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I use this idea for for almost every drawer in the house. Now the lotions are compartmentalized separate from the body sprays...
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This set up has been in place about a month with great success. It's really easy to keep things organized--even when I'm in a hurry.
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The winter gear was floating aimlessly about the floor of our coat closet. I was able to move it to an empty drawer in the hall that held junk we no longer own. Again, my gloves, Andrew's gloves, snow hats, and scarves all have a home in a separate cardboard compartment.
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...cardboard separates the long sleeved tees from the short in this drawer.
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I could go on and on about the joys of compartments. But I won't.
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You just don't understand the muddled environment my poor brain has been trying to function in!
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I wish I had before and after pictures. Though honesty, I probably wouldn't post the befores anyway. I don't think I'd be comfortable with you knowing that much about me.
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My jewelry has spent the last ten years thrown together in random little boxes. A couple bucks at Wal-Mart and now my earrings and necklaces are available for quick viewing and easy access.
(For all you jewelry thieves out there, you can officially rule out my collection. It is certainly good enough for me, but you'd probably rake in about five whole dollars for my fake diamonds and pearls)
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Do you like how I wrote all over the side labeled: DO NOT MARK THIS END?
I'm such a rebel.
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As it is right next to the TV and stereo, I transformed it into a media cabinet.
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We even spent an entire afternoon wiping out every kitchen cabinet. It was a long time coming. We threw away several trash bags full of stuff we just don't need. I added narrow cardboard boxes on the back of the spice cabinets so that the ingredients in the back sit higher. Now I can see everything in one glance without having to rummage through it all. Also, the many loose gravy and spice packets were consolidated into one holding container.
Every time I open my cabinets now, I get sudden urge to cook something.
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My cookbooks have spent most of their existence piled on top of each other in a deep drawer. An emptied shelf works so much better! I can see all of them at once.
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Now, wasn't sifting through the contents of my drawers just utterly fascinating? If you are stuck with me until the very end of this post, you deserve a gold star.
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I haven't reached every corner of the house yet, but just let me just share with you the benefits of de-cluttering, consolidating, and rearranging my home thus far:
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