fluff and stuff

WARNING!!! All Oregonians who may read this entry, have the possibility of being offended.

Isn't it beautiful? We have snow here in the Great North West and I am reveling in it. As you can see, there isn't much. A nice pile of fluff has graced us with it's presence. I am always humored by the build up such an event. The news preps us for days. Giving us ample warning to gather food from the store and get our tire chains ready. They are very thorough. I always giggle a little, knowing that school will be canceled, and yes Church was canceled today.

I become some what of a snob. "I can't believe they are making such a big deal about this." Having lived in snow ridden areas most of my life, I aim to be quite the professional on the subject. This has come back to bite me several times.

1. I quickly discovered that Oregon snow is much different then Idaho or Southern Alberta snow. Oregon snow is much wetter, colder, and perilous. Humidity is a bummer in Wintry conditions.
2. ICE, ICE, AND MORE ICE, Nuff said!
3. They simply do not have the machines necessary to take care of snowy, icy roads here. Therefore the roads remain an ice rink and accidents are inevitable.
4. The majority of people are not schooled in the art of snow driving. I am confident in my abilities ( which does not guarantee anything), not so confident in the abilities of those around me.
5. The PANIC MENTALITY. Everyone is in such a huff to re stalk there food, etc.... that it feels like Black Friday all over again. All courtesy goes out the door.

For all my huff and grumble that such little flakes could cause such huge grief, there is one thing I am sure of. I am grateful that schools, and church see the potential for danger and choose to protect my family, rather then take a risk. I may mock the chaos, but I am content to enjoy what snow comes my way, and take comfort knowing my family is safe and warm at home.

A Rum Pum Pum Pum

Okay, so maybe I don't have a little drummer boy. But I do have a little piano boy. Camden has claimed hours of play time tinkering on our Lego piano. It actually plays, and we have enjoyed hearing his compositions. Recently however, he has decided that the real piano down stairs is much more fun to bang on. This tiny, plastic, sound machine, no longer cuts the mustard.

Bonus! Upon showing his disgust in said tinker piano and knocking it over, he discovered it was full of Mega Blocks. Now he has many more chewable toys to entertain him.
Perhaps this little piano isn't so useless after all.

Tree Hunt

Traditions run deep in my family. Some traditions are built around talent sharing, others simply revolve around food. But my favorite traditions come in the form of games, particularly made up games. As kids my sister Colleen and I would spend hours hiding things in the Christmas tree. we would take turns hiding and finding nonsense items found around the house, a festive version of hide and seek. The other night, my own little monkey's were complaining that they were bored. All our games were old and lame and they had nothing to do. In pops my childhood memories and voila! a new favorite has emerged. Now MY kids are spending hours hiding and seeking in the Christmas tree.

The item of choice: a green ,foam Rhombus. I know what your thinking, that looks like a diamond. But no, no, I was corrected, it is a Rhombus. I love that they chose green just to make things a little more difficult.

Peyton is usually the first to search.

Doesn't it blend in nicely with the tree. I'm surprised they ever find it.


It's a good thing I'm not anal about people touching the tree.

Readathon

I love watching the quiet moments when Chet gets the opportunity to be a terrific dad. Earlier in the evening Peyton chose to do his assigned class reading with his dad. I wasn't smart enough to snap a picture, but I wasn't going to let that moment slip pass me twice.

Upon emerging from the shower last night, I found Chet curled up on the bed with Camden doing a little male bonding and beneficial reading. Camden was squealing with delight and I could see the glow of pride and love beaming from Chet's eyes. Families are forever. We sure wouldn't mind have this kind of quality time together throughout eternity.

Notice how Camden is clutching the T.V remote. He was just getting prepared in case the story got too dull.

The book proved to be the winner. The remote was abandoned, and page turning took its place.

The leaning Tower of pumpkin

The fall season really is over ( sigh..) But standing tall and proud in my dining room, remains the leaning tower of pumpkin.

Adding additional clutter to my home is just wrong. I can hardly de-clutter what I already have. But for some unknown reason I could not bring myself to throw away all of Camden's empty formula cans. In the back of my mind I have some amazing craft idea just waiting to be used, and yes it will require formula cans.

As you can see, the cans have got good use. There have been many structures created by my children using these lightweight building blocks, from forts to battleships. However, the last 4 weeks have found this nearly 8 foot tall tower looming in the dining room. It has not fallen over, despite its crooked nature. It really is a marvel. The children named it "The leaning Tower of Pumpkin." I don't have the heart to take it down. It is my last reminder of fall and I am holding on with all my strength. Eventually I will have to face reality and note that the tower no longer fits in with the fully Christmas decorated living room and dining table. One more day couldn't hurt!

Christmas mouse

I am an avid reader. My children have become consistent readers also. We enjoy sitting down together, cuddled around a great book, making different voices and goofing off. Together we have consumed numerous Christmas books. Many of which have been about adorable Christmas mice. They look so cute dressed in tiny clothes, and bringing Christmas cheer.

We discovered on Monday that tiny Christmas mice may be enjoyable playing in decorations in stories, but not so fun when you actually have mice playing in your Christmas decorations.

EEWWW! GROSS!

I am short. We know this. We keep our decorations on the top shelf in our garage, which requires me to use a stool. I don't mind. I have always enjoyed climbing and stretching. I think it's part of the little man syndrome. I have to prove that I can do it by myself. Sometimes it gets me into not so pleasant situations. Case and point, Monday.

I perilously stood on the edge of a stool surrounded by bikes and strollers and reached up toward the Christmas boxes. Even standing on a stool I can't see the tops of the boxes, but I know which ones I want and tip them forward to get a better grip. Joy of all joys! To my surprise a surplus of little black pellets come rolling forward, hits me in the face and then drop down my shirt nestling nicely between my cleavage. It takes every ounce of control in me not to completely freak out, throw the box and jump regardless of where I land. I managed however to maintain my composure and bring the remainder of the boxes down.

Upon inspection, we discovered that mice had been nibbling at our stockings and tree skirt, which just happen to be in the same box as our fake tree. There was mice poop and pee on all our products. I salvaged the stockings and skirt. Quickly throwing them into the wash. I will however, not touch the tree limbs.

These puppies are being thrown away. I just know all these limbs are full of mouse droppings and pee. No Thanks! We have had this tree for 11 Christmases now. It has seen it last day. I think it was time for us to purchase a new tree anyway.

Eternity Beckons

The simple, inspired words of Elder Joseph. B. Wirthlin have been running threw my mind since the October 2008 General Conference. Upon hearing of the passing of this great and noble man, I have once again devoured the talk "Come what may and love it", seeking its wisdom and relishing in its humor.

This talk inspired me and will continue to inspire future generations. Thank you Elder Wirthlin for your dedication and love. You will be missed.