Aquarium

In keeping with the week's theme of what LBO wants to be when he grows up, we went to the aquarium yesterday. Don't they look excited:

As we've all been there before and none of us is four, there was very little running from tank to tank screaming "Nemo!" and "Dory!" This is as effusive as LBO ever gets really:

Mostly we took pictures of the fish:

This is a cleaner version of where we were on Monday:

Tarzan's favorite were the sexy fish:

I liked the one trying to evolve:

The sea horses:

And dragons:

Jellyfish:

The stingrays were interesting:

The birds that would eat the fish if they could:

Sea lions that do get to eat fish regularly:

Do you think it's kosher for the local aquarium to serve fish in the cafeteria:

It was good, no fault there, it just seemed odd.

This is me looking at some fishes.

Vroom

Yesterday the boys went to play. This is an annual trip Tazan and the young men of church take together at the end of the summer and sometimes brothers and cousins get to go too as was the case this year. I didn't get to go - male bonding you know - but Tarzan remembered the camera this year and no one died so I am sure they had fun.

This is me and I went to the grocery store instead.

Scuba Luv

My youngest brother, LBO, came out this week to spend a few days before his and Tarzan's summers are over and because Tarzan found a cool local adventure for us.
You may remember Tarzan and I taking a little trip earlier this year to an island just off the coast. This same island has apparently kept in contact because Tarzan came home one day waving a flyer, all excited about how we should do this. So yesterday morning we climbed in the car; front seat:
Back seat:And headed to the ferry:Once we landed we grabbed some breakfast at Joe's:And headed down to the beach to find the Scuba Luv shack. Scuba Luv offers a number of water adventures, scuba obviously, snorkeling, snuba and others:LBO wants to be a marine biologist when he grows up and seeing as all thee of us wear glasses and I am not the greatest of swimmers, we chose the SeaTrek excursion. We wet-suited up:They towed us out to the float - about 100 feet off shore - gave us a helmet and we climbed 25 feet down a ladder to the ocean floor. And we walked around inside our own little air bubble helmets. It was pretty fantastic. And for the first time in my life I could see! All other times I have been in the water I've had to take my glasses off and it's been one big blue/green blur. This time I could see the fishes and the coral, the sea cucumbers - which were way freaky to touch - the abalone, the seaweed. Several fish came up and looked me right in the face. We spent about an hour down there and it was awesome. Worth every penny.
My camera is not waterproof so the only images we have are the ones our guide took and we have to sell our first born to pay for but here you go. Pardon the "PROOF" sign across our faces. We are numbers nine through twelve. (People have been kind and say I am exaggerating, but how can you look at those and not notice that I have no neck?)
After we changed out of our suits we went for lunch to Mi Casita which looked okay enough. Casual Mexican food. The portions were enormous and though I wasn't a fan of the house rice & beans which came with everything, the fish tacos were excellent and they served THE BEST HORCHATA EVER. Seriously.After lunch we chilled at the beach for a while:Wandered around the island and eventually took the ferry home again.

This is me and that was a cool day.

Glee Project

Okay producers/writers/dreamers/makers-up of the spin-off television show known as The Glee Project - you people are weak. Clearly not reality television quality judges. I mean, really; they ALL win? What's the point of that.
I think they got attached to the performers - as only the audience is supposed to do - and didn't have the guts to send another one home.
That or they like the feeling of having all these people beholden to them. It was hard on the "professionals" the week Cameron quit. It was apparent they did not like having the power taken away from them.
I only watched the thing because ATL made me. She's a Thunderhead don't you know and she was only going to watch until Damian McGinty got voted off but then the dude ended up winning - apparently they're ALL winning - so I got invested and I hate that about reality TV. Because forever after I will be bitter that Marissa got sent home. She was awesome.

This is me, watching more scripted reality.

Truth Via Facebook

It's interesting the things that get passed around Facebook.
This is the latest, posed by my uncle.
THE SOUTHERN TEN COMMANDMENTS
(1)Just one God
(2)Put nothin' before God
(3)Watch yer mouth
(4)Git yourself to Sunday meetin'
(5)Honor yer Ma & Pa
(6)No killin'
(7)No foolin' around with another feller's gal (or 'nother gal's feller)
(8)Don't take what ain't yorn
(9)No tellin' tales or gossipin'
(10)Don't be hankerin' for yer buddy's stuff. Now that's plain an' simple.

This is me and I am amused.

Newsweek Revisited

I have tried very hard to recreate my masterpiece of a response to Newsweek's article of a few weeks ago. It is not to be, so I will list only the salient points.
Dear Newsweek,
Regarding the LDS church,

WE ARE NOT POLYGAMISTS!! That practice went out years ago - shortly after it was instituted in fact. And that was one hundred and twenty-one years ago. Just because some weirdo with six wives claims to be of our faith, does not mean he actually is. It's like being barefoot. If you're wearing shoes it doesn't matter how much you claim to be barefoot, you just aren't.

Stop associating our church with that musical. Yes, it is named after one of our sacred books of scripture but we didn't sanction the thing and from all accounts, it gleefully mocks the faith and it's people. And how does any of that deserve a full page spread in an article about Mormons when NONE of the people in the picture are members of the church?

Lastly, the church is often the first organization to respond to a disaster, anywhere in the world and we most certainly do help any and all people in need. We do not restrict our help and assistance to only members of the faith.

This is me, not yours truly,
Jane

The Graduate Cometh

I know, I know, I've been promising this post for weeks - literally weeks, gah - but I've been...I hesitate to say busy because that's lame - who isn't? - or occupied, that's too vague. Lazy might be more accurate but I'm not laying around watching television or playing Frontierville all day - really, I'm not - and I don't think I'm lacking motivation - it was a really great trip and we had a surprisingly good time. I want to share! (This missing post has been bugging me since we got back.) Maybe it's my lack of specific pictures.
Yeah, let's go with that.
And it's true in a way. I took a lot of photos, but not the ones you would think of. As it will become quickly obvious where we were I will save time trying to think of a cute name to disguise the town we visited. QC graduated in downtown Salt Lake City, Utah on Saturday, July 23rd. We flew into SLC Friday morning - we left at the ungodly hour of 4:30AM - again - why do we always DO that? - the ceremony and celebrations were Saturday and we came back Sunday afternoon. So there was time for sightseeing and relaxing which is a rarity on our vacations.
We stayed at a hotel that was literally across the street from Temple Square:

So I have a few photos of that building: Though it's smaller in real life than I thought it would be: I took a lot of pictures of Tarzan:
Tarzan with his Lebanon cedar tree:
He searched all over for this tree, having heard of it's notoriety - apparently it came from Jerusalem and once got trimmed incorrectly which created a wiggle in it's trunk - but not sure which of the many trees in the area it was. He asked every person who looked like they weren't tourists, scared a number of sister missionaries with his intensity and finally found the answer from a dude, dressed for the 100th anniversary of the Hotel Utah and who might have been around when the hotel opened.
What's fortunate is there are a lot of pictures of the actual graduation ceremony and since that was ostensibly the reason we went, I'm happy about that.

Rather wordy sign on the sports arena stairs:On the way in:

Gimme some tassel:Takin' my diploma:

All done graduatin':

After the ceremony we walked around Temple Square some more - there are a billion things to see there - randomly ran into a friend from school and his son:

And toured the conference center. It's ENORMOUS (This is not my picture):

I was impressed with the feat of engineering that enables every seat in the place to have an unobstructed view: That's right, no columns:
During one of the gallery walks, PhatFiddle, Liezel and Fuzzy (in utero):
In another huge space with pretty things on the wall, SBB (with Abe in utero), QC and MusicMan:
After all day interviewing, graduating, walking around and everything, he soon settled down in true QC fashion: Then came the feast of celebration wherein we all ate more than was probably healthy:On the way back to the hotel where we passed out this was the back seat:

Tarzan and me:

QC photobombing us:
Sunday the family was leaving at various times. Tarzan and I, having left our house at the most ridiculous hour we had, we did not rise with the dawn to go home. Again the proximity of Temple Square drew us in and we were able to see Music and the Spoken Word, which is broadcast every Sunday morning. I've heard it dozens of times but I have to say, nothing prepares you for the experience in person. This video is of the organist practicing the closing hymn the day before:

This is me and in all seriousness, Congratulations QC!

Yoga

As seen on my parents' living room floor yesterday and Friday morning:
This is me and two flexible siblings.

Pizza

What is it about cold pizza?
The first bite is fabulous and you figure you could eat the whole pie by yourself.
In fact, most of the first half of the first slice is excellent and you wonder why you don't eat your pizza this way all the time.
By the time you reach the crust, it's okay and if the bread is good, you finish it and it was nice.
The second slice isn't nearly as good and by the time you get to the end of it you don't feel well and can't stand to look at the other pieces in the box. So you wrap it up, put it in the fridge and hope that your husband will finish it before you have to see it again.
And then you burp pizza all night long.

This is me and it's much better in theory.

The Internet Returns

Aaaaand we're up and running again. Woot!
I guess the router just got old and died. We called the DSL people and they rushed out a replacement and it started right up so we're good.
I haven't forgotten the travelogue - it's in the works - and our project in the back yard is almost done - we're waiting on a few more pictures.
Is it sad that I have nothing to report after five days without Internet? You know how some people are SO! AMAZED! at how much stuff they got done when the cable/Internet/TV etc. was broken?
Not us.
Either the Internet doesn't matter or we don't do that much in the evenings on a regular basis.

This is me, connected again.

Curses

Just stealing a quick second here at work to let you know my Internet is broken - has been since Wednesday - but should be fixed by tonight or tomorrow.

I know you were crying in your pillows.

This is me, unconnected.

Exciting News

The travelogue will come soon - tomorrow maybe - but first, some exciting news from The Other Side Of The World. My sister, M2, her husband PIT - along with big brother Squishy and big sister Rosy - welcomed baby Ecru on July 12th:Barely into the 12th he was born a few minutes past midnight. Weighing in at a respectable 9lbs 7ozs and 21 inches long, he looks exactly like he belongs in the family:

Because they live so far away, we don't see my sister's children as they grow into each phase of their faces. It's a sudden thing instead of a gradual shift, so it was highly amusing to see how Rosy now looks EXACTLY like her mother and though Squishy has his father's chin, his expression and hair style is the twin of my baby brother, his Uncle SLB. Baby Ecru just looks disgusted with it all:

I delayed so long in posting because we didn't have a name until twenty minutes ago when it was posted on Facebook. (It's not real 'til it's on Facebook.) My sister is apparently inclined to have only girls as she has a dozen or so female names picked out and Rosy was christened almost before she opened her eyes. The boys however have each had to wait two or three weeks while an appropriate moniker was selected. Still, I expect little Ecru won't remember not having name, so it's okay:

This is me, Aunt again.

Best Houseguest EVER!

While Tarzan and I were gone, ATL had a friend over for the weekend.
We didn't mind; she's nice and they had fun and there was someone else to remember to feed and pet the cats.
Her plane left almost as ours got in so we didn't see her to say good-bye but look at what she left for us:

To thank us for letting her stay in our house!

This is me with the best houseguest EVER!

Procrastination

We're leaving town tomorrow morning - EARLY tomorrow morning - as in 4am tomorrow morning - to meet up with Tarzan's family for QC's graduation.
We've known for months now and we'll only be gone for three days.
So why have I left the packing and everything until a few hours before?
So that I can avoid this:Which is this:And this:

This is me, and it's every time we get ready to go.
P.S. There will be Internet but I am not bringing my laptop so I don't know if I will get to post. If not then definitely on Monday.

Or Something

I must be some kind of amazing. I went to pick up my book - granted, it's 1437 pages, so heavy though a paperback - it slipped and I broke my middle fingernail in three places and the adjacent ring fingernail in half.

This is me and there has to be a place for talent like that right?

To Jean Or Not To Jean?

Usually, I would not darken the door step of Wal*Mart. I some issues with the way they do business and all that. But I overheard a conversation - while in one of the many lines I stand in on a Saturday - where two ladies were discussing this brand of blue jeans. According to them, the jeans fit really well - with an actaul waist, not this hip hugging nonsense that is going on all over - are not rediculously expensive and are at Wal*Mart.
I am short and round and have a terrible time finding jeans that fit and look decent, and the one pair that I have that fits all the criteria is developing some holes in some not holy places.
So I went to Wal*Mart.
And there they were. Real jeans - not the pre-worn looking stuff with holes already in them - in my size, in EVERYone's size actually, with a Tall, Medium and Short for all the numbers too. There were various shades of ble and they fit. It was a pretty emotional moment.
So, do I buy them and become hypocritical because previously I wouldn't buy things at that store? Do I not buy them and possibly not find a good pair of jeans again? Don't laugh, it's happened before, my deciding to wait on an item because "I don't really need it right now" and then not being able to find it ever again. Ever.
So I'm stuck between my principles and being decently clothed. What is a girl to do?

This is me, caught on the horns of a dilemna

Sleepy

I am constantly amazed that cats can sleep in positions like they do:

This is me and he's a sleepy kitty.

To Be A Painter

I call it 'Still Life With Hydrangea':

This is me with a picturesque table.

Note For The Future

I learned something day before yesterday. Something about myself that I thought was true for years and years is not actually true.
I do not want an island in my future kitchen.
I KNOW! This is HUGE news!
For as long as I remember, any kitchen I have had the privilege to call my own has needed work. Improvements. Upgrades. And I thought for sure one of those would have been an island. Every kitchen you see in the movies or on TV has one. All the upgrade magazine include a new fancy island for the kitchens.
But after Wednesday's adventure I don't think I would like one.
My job is kind of vague in the description part. Basically I do whatever Aunt Richie asks me to do. I pay bills, Internet shop - this is a job?! - and then return things, label, file, laminate - there is a lot of that - help the books and art breathe, make and take and reschedule appointments. Occasionally I venture out of the office and into other areas of the house.
The other day she decided to make a tart with the fresh plums picked from her yard. Then stuff happened and she got distracted and in an attempt to stay on track asked if I would make the tart. I was flattered but a little overwhelmed to be let loose in her kitchen. I mean, our entire house would fit in her kitchen.
Seriously.
But I have also been a little anxious to be able to see all the cool tools she has and to play in such a fantastic space. So I dove in.
Let me tell you, it can put a girl off her game to have her employer, a granddaughter and all the house staff watch her make a quasi-fancy dessert in a strange kitchen. It was tough. And enlightening. The island kept getting in my way. Every time I wanted something, it was on the other side of the counter and I had to walk out and around. When the timer on the oven went off I was on the wrong side of the room and everyone came running before I managed to get it turned off. (They don't use the oven timer much.) Granted, Aunt Richie's kitchen is HUGE and the island in the middle is more than four feet across, so really it's like another room inside the room, but still. Having to go around to reach things, or reach across; much more inconvenient than I would have imagined. And unless I can get what I want and where I need to be without a half marathon it's not going to be worth it.

This is me and that's what I learned at work.

Peculiar

How is it the best breeze in the house comes through the bathroom window?


This is me, and is it too weird if I sleep in the shower?

At Long Last - The Explanation

So about this new job I have.
A few weeks - about six now - Tarzan was super anxious about his layoff notice, there were no jobs here in the Jungle and we were planning moves to other states and countries around the globe.
(Just covering all the bases you see.)
Because I love this city, my house, my cats and my fruit trees, I offered to look for a job too, around here, just in case. Before the words were completely out of my mouth the phone rang. It was Tarzan's cousin asking if I had some free time to spend helping her mom, Tarzan's Aunt Richie. She's a very particular woman and her daughter doesn't have the patience to spend do things her mom's way. But she thought I might do well at it. (Patience? Meticulousness? Have they even met me?)
Tarzan accepted for me on the spot, then hit his knees in thankfulness.
And that's how I became a personal assistant for a wealthy woman.
I am not sure how I feel about this whole change of situation now that I've been there for a while. The money and the hours aren't bad - she let's me have my Thursdays off so I can still volunteer at the food bank place - and it's certainly not difficult work. Aunt Richie tries hard to separate between personal and professional and it's been fairly easy to maintain that line. She's very generous and except for the commute - which is terrible, about an hour each way, oy - it's a very cushy job.
I think what bothers me the most is the loss of my disposable time. I can't plan meals the way I used to, there's no running to the store when the produce shipment comes in so I get the pick of the sale items, I've been forgetting to pay the bills, there's less time to do the chores, Tarzan has to pick up ATL from work most nights....I just miss doing what I needed to when I wanted to. Previously I tried to do the housework, shopping and bill paying when Tarzan was at school so when he came home I could be less distracted. That's less and less possible since he beats me home most every night now.
I know what you're thinking; if this is your biggest complaint in life Jane, you're a lucky girl. And it's true, I shouldn't whine. It's a good job and I am learning her system, which is particular but not hard or illogical. Things could be worse. Heck, they have been much worse.

This is me, employed once more.

This Was A Good One

I just discovered the marvel that is Pandora radio. What a brilliant idea. Start me off with a song I already know I like, reccommend others that are like it, then let me pick whether I like it a lot, a little, or not at all. The ones I don't like aren't offered again. The ones I do like are fodder for the next selections and as it goes along I found they do better choosing what I like. I can also make up more than one 'station' in case, as I do, one like classical AND 80's rock AND Josh Groban AND the Motown label.
It's awesome.
Though there still are commercials, they are short, singular and not obnoxious.

This is me with a radio station that I really like.

Oh My Berry Goodness

I got a berry:

Well, three:

Okay fine, there were five berries.
I ate two already just to check and make sure they are, in fact, blackberries.
And they are! It's fantastic.
I probably need to recant my exasperation over the blackberry vine incident. It turns out that blackberries are a bi-annual plant, which means they grow one year and blossom the next. It's kind of sad to only get berries every other year, so what most growers do is have two vines planted next to each other. When one is growing the other is making fruit. After the harvest the old vines are cut back and the ones for next year can get bigger. It's an intriguing system. One I hadn't figured out how I was going to implement until I noticed that the vines that came from Tarzan's grandfather had blossoms, and the ones that had been cut back where now growing:So I ended up with what I had wanted, and all because the neighbor had been helpful. Maybe I should take him cookies - he felt really bad.

This is me, with renewed hope in my - pale - green thumb.

This Would Have Been Lengthy

I wrote an excellent - if I do say so myself - thoughtful, well-composed, balanced post in response to Newsweek's article this week The Mormon Moment. It was long and complex and really one of my best works.
Then Blogger ate it. And I can't get it back.
And now I am annoyed at Blogger and upset at Newsweek which is not a good place.

This is me, apologizing for deficiencies in the machinery.

More Like Bringer Of Confusion

95% of you know more about music than I do, so it with great trust and complete seriousness that I ask; what is the deal with Jupiter?
Opus No. 32 - otherwise known as Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity - from the suite The Planets, by Gustav Holst is one of my favorite pieces of music:

But I do not understand it.
It was played on the classical radio station the other day on my way to work (more about that soon) and I was pleased to be able to hear the whole piece start to finish. I was also curious to know how it would sound after hearing the tinny totally-not-professionally-recorded version on my phone for so long. Part of Jupiter is my ring tone.
The beginning of the piece is fine, upbeat and jumpy - bringer of jollity, sure, I get that - and about three minutes in comes the greatest 1:53 of music known to man. I love that blurb right there. I tried for days to get the best copy I could for my phone and it never gets old when I hear it. But after the awesome swell and drums and strings...it trails off like someone forgot where they were and picks it back up further in. Yes, it references that minute fifty-three again but it's such a distinct movement with that weird ending and I don't know why it's like that.

This is me and what don't I know?