Old Friends

If I were to write a list of the things that I missed most about our old life in our old town, at the very top of the list would be our old house! Man, I miss that house.

And then tied for second would be our golf course walking trail, Costco, and the Coveys. We really miss the Coveys.

Oh, and Beth. I miss my friend Beth a lot too.

Today the Coveys surprised us and came over to play. It was a good day. Just like old times.

And although it will never be as convenient or consistent as it was when we were neighbors I'm hoping the summer allows for a few more days spent with the Coveys.

Twenty-Fifteen

In January we spent the warmer days walking our favorite walking path around the golf course.

In February we spent time with some of our favorite friends.

In March we toured the Don Aslett Museum of Clean.

In April we watched base jumpers jump off the Perrine Bridge.

In May we visited Craters of the Moon.

In June we took a road trip to Seattle Washington.

In July we celebrated America and spent time with cousins.

In August we sold our house. Spence started a new job, the kids started a new school year at a new school, and we moved into a hotel.

In September, 42 days after checking into the Residence Inn, we moved into our new house. We also took a trip to Yellowstone National Park with the Wahlens.

In October we got a kitty and named her Cinnamon.

In November we started building walls and running electrical wires in our unfinished basement.

In December we celebrated our very first Christmas in our house in the country.

2015 - It was a year of change. Some very good times. And some trying, challenging times too.

And 2016, I am so looking forward to you. You are going to be a great year; I’m going to make sure of it.

When There's Smoke

“I feel like we’re camping,” I told Spence this morning as I woke up in the hotel and put back on yesterdays clothes trying to ignore the fact that I didn’t have an overnight bag with deodorant, toothbrush or fresh underwear. The air outside only intensifies the camping atmosphere. It’s thick, and dry, and smells just like campfire.

We were evacuated from our house around 3:30 yesterday afternoon.

I was inside nursing Marlee while Brynlee and Jace were outside playing in the sprinklers. I noticed the sky turn orange as I watched the kids out the window. And then I smelt the smoke. It was a faint aroma at first. So I checked on the kids, saw no sign of fire, and went back to nursing Marlee.

The phone rang. I ignored it. Then it rang again, and again. I assumed it was my mom since she does that sort of thing - calls time and time again when you don’t answer. {hi mom! love ya.} By the forth missed call I stopped nursing and answered my phone.

It was Spencer telling us he had just got a phone call from the police department and we needed to evacuate our home. The same recorded message was on my voicemail: The sheriff’s office is requesting that all residents evacuate their homes immediately due to a fast moving fire.

Funny thing, earlier that day I had heard of other evacuations in Colorado and Utah and had questioned myself - what things would I take with me in such a situation. 

In such a situation, I bring nothing. Apparently.                 

No valuables. No change of clothes. Or clean underwear. No toothbrushes. No wipes and diapers for my newborn baby. Or nursing pads for her nursing mama.

Truth be told, I panicked. The kids were in the backyard in their swimming suits and Marlee was laying on the couch – crying, since I had ended her feeding before she was ready. I told the kids to run upstairs and get their clothes on. I grabbed shoes for the gang, my purse, cell phone and computer and we loaded in the van and left the house.

As I left the house I could see the fire rolling down the hills toward the golf course. It was like something you see on the evening news, not something you expect to see in your backyard.

The rest of the day was spent watching the local news, texting friends and neighbors for detail and updating family. The rumors spread faster than the fire itself. Every story exploding into something different. Everybody speculating on whose house had been consumed by the flames. People assuming and then spreading. And so it goes, I guess.

So far the official count is at 66 houses and 29 outbuildings and 1,038 acres burned.

****

Last night we stayed in a hotel wondering of what was to happen.

Tonight we are among the lucky. We are home. And although our house smells of potent campfire smoke and our deck, lawn and flowers are dusted in ash, our house and neighborhood was unharmed. Everything in our house is just as we left it {including the dough I had rising on the kitchen counter for last night’s dinner. yikes}. However, if you stand at the corner of our neighborhood and look out you see nothing but black ruins – skeletons of trees and houses that used to be. Power companies trying to restore power lines, fire crews still fighting, media sources trying to get the inside scoop.

We are so grateful. So thankful. So appreciative. We are also aware, concerned and prayerful for those who weren’t as lucky as us. For the friends, neighbors and ward and stake members that may have lost everything. Our thoughts are with them.

****

Although we are home and power has now been restored in our neighborhood we are still without gas, hot water, internet access etc. Right now we are at my little sisters house showering and quickly updating the blog. Fire pictures will be posted when I am able. As well as updated pictures of my sweet baby Marlee. Oh how we love her.

A Peak Inside: Jace's Room

And finally, the superhero’s domain.

I think my favorite part of this room is the homemade telephone booth.  I originally bought this old door at DI to make an oversized photo frame like this one, but decided late one night {when I couldn’t sleep} that it would make a perfect telephone booth for Jace’s room. The decorative topper comes from my neighbors wood shed. She brought it over one day after some spring cleaning for me to “be creative with”. She thought it was part of an old headboard, but couldn’t remember for sure.

A second favorite is the superhero artwork that Spencer and I handcrafted. I drew the images and Spencer cut them out with the jigsaw. They are actually quite large and take up an entire wall. Probably about 2 ½ feet by 2 ½ feet.

Jace’s favorite part is definitely the framed comic book covers. I had to buy him a brighter nightlight because he wouldn’t go to sleep at night unless he could see his superhero.

My lil’ superhero boy, I love him. Really, really love him.

A Peak Inside: Brynlee's Room

When I asked Brynlee if she wanted to give her room to her new little sister and make the guest bedroom her new room she was super excited. She only had two requests. She wanted the room to be blue {no pink!} and she wanted stuff to hang from her ceiling like it had in her old room.

Easy enough.

And in return she had to agree that her room would also serve as the guest bedroom. Meaning that when guests came to stay or at least the guests we liked {kidding} {kinda} she had to willingly give up her bed. So far there hasn’t been a single complaint. In fact, I think she secretly likes to have a slumber party in any room of her choice when guests are at our house.

A Peak Inside: The Nursury

A golf course isn't just for golfing.

I love my neighborhood, especially this time of year when the daily golfers that frequent our neighborhood golf course are slowly weeded out by colder weather.  Which means we have 18 holes of beautifully manicured lawn to claim as our own.  And claim we do.  We spend our time gathering pinecones and wildflowers for collections and throwing twirly whirlies into the river that runs through the course.  We roll down the hills and play on the golf cart bridges.  We send paper sailboats under the bridge and occasionally we venture over to the 18^th hole and feed the ducks.   I love to run on the putting green barefoot.  Coolest feeling ever.  And when it snows we will pull our kids on snow sleds around the untouched golf course snow.  And I’m sure someday – when my kids are bigger – they will beg to dive for lost golf balls in the rivers banks.  And I'll let them.  To a diehard golfer {read: most my neighborhood} we are probably offendeding their sacred turf.  But we aren’t golfers, so we see no harm.

[[pictures of Sunday evening on the golf course]]

Excuse me while I pretend I’m FlyLady

Okay, so here’s the thing . . . this is loooonnnng, and boooooring aaaannnnd about cleaning and most of it is extremely unnecessary and for that I apologize.  Don’t blame me; blame the people that requested my monthly house cleaning list in the first place.  They should have known I’d get carried away.

So, first things first, I have two house cleaning lists {well, and a seasonal house to-do list, but I’m trying not to scare you}.  I rotate between the two of them depending on my mood.  One is set up in a daily format with a few things to do every day and the other is set up in a monthly format with a weekly cleaning breakdown.  I go through house cleaning phases.  For the last eight months{ish} I have been using my monthly format and setting aside one morning each week for house cleaning + laundry.  But for a long time before that I used my weekly cleaning list and did a little bit of cleaning every day. 

Again loooonnnng, and boooooring and I don’t know why I’m telling you this.

I guess to say that I’m attaching my monthly house cleaning list because it is what I’m using right now {and because I made it cute} but if you like more of a daily cleaning schedule and want me to post that one as a reference let me know.  And I cross my heart, hope to die that I will make that post way shorter.

Anyway, the chart. 

Oh but first, I’m attaching it in a read only file, but I realize that every household has different cleaning needs.  If you would like me to email you the Microsoft Word Document of my chart so you can edit it and make it your own {Jami?} leave me a comment and I will send it your way.  Alrighty?  Okay, the chart:

And in case you’re wondering here is what it means to me: 

I think it’s important to note that I don’t actually do every single thing on my monthly list every single month or every single thing on my weekly list every single week.  I might decide that the upstairs doesn’t need dusted that week or that I dusted blinds last month {or like three months ago} so they don’t need done this month.  My cleaning list is basically a reminder of things to-do.  And it serves the ever important purpose of giving me something to cross off in permanent black marker when I get something done.  Because that’s how I roll.

Speaking of how I roll, I also have a tendency to beat a dead horse deader {or whatever}.  So come back later to read a few cleaning tips that work for me.  {Talking about cleaning should not make me this happy}.  I was planning on posting them now, but the formatting was wrong.  And this post is already long.  And I'm tired.  And it's bedtime.  And tomorrow is Wednesday.  And Wednesday's are busy.  So for now, I'm off to bed.

Night.

Sometimes, on this blog, I talk about my garage doors

So we got new interior doors, right.

Well, in the midst of all the measuring and trimming and painting and installing of our new doors we were also looking for something to replace the interior paneling of our garage doors.  Mainly because our current garage door situation was . . . um, gross.  The previous owners must have kept a small herd of wild animals in their garage at night.  Wild animals that had a thing for eating styrofoam garage door paneling.  I’m not sure how else to explain this:

Our original plan was to use metal to cover the destroyed, yellowing Styrofoam panels.  But then we looked at prices and holy geez.  So we started thinking of alternative solutions: particle board, paneling, bead board, new Styrofoam, cardboard, fabric, modge podging scrapbook paper, picture collages. . . you know, that sort of stuff. 

And then one night it came to me.  The old doors {cue flashing light bulb above my head}.  Perfect size, wood, FREE.  Plus, we needed to get rid of them anyway.

So we dismantled our old straight panel, hallow doors and we did this:

I also painted the entire garage + the garage floor + got rid of the cob webs. 

Spencer deemed it one of my best ideas to date.

He obviously forgot about the time we used a circular skilsaw to cut a nylon rug.  Because honestly, ttttthhhhaaat was my best idea to date.

Err. . . NOT!

Our house reeks of new carpet and sleep deprivation

Remember how I told you we were getting new carpet?  Well, it’s happening.

And my OCD couldn’t be more excited. 

As we’ve emptied rooms of their belongings I’ve cleaned out every closet, drawer, nook & cranny.  And while Spencer has been ripping out old carpet, pulling staples out of the floor boards and using no less than 8 bajillion screws to quiet the floor squeakies I’ve been painting ceilings and closets and trim and doors and walls and really anything else I can get my paint stained hands on.  Including our bedspread . . . whoops. 

This morning Spence and I moaned and groaned and pulled ourselves out of bed like a 90 year old couple that decided it a good idea to attempt break dancing AND go bowling on the same evening.  I have a handful of paint roller blisters on my right hand and my neck is permanently stuck in ceiling viewing position.  I feel like a million bucks.  Only not.

P.S.  While I type Brynlee is decorating the dining room for something I believe she’s titled “a party for the carpet.”  She’s adorned with Crayola artwork and has informed me that after the carpet is completely done we will celebrate with a feast.  She’s set out ramekins of Pirates Booty, filled cups with ice water and has a piece of gum to be split between the four of us for dessert.  So you know, quite ‘the feast’.  So sometime Friday afternoon when the carpet installation is complete we will dine on stale Pirates Booty and two day old water.  If you’re not busy you should join us.

The kids preparing for a sleepover in our bedroom while their rooms are sans carpet.

TDF: When Project Master Bathroom takes command.

I burnt the French bread for last night's dinner.  You know that thin line between toasted perfectly golden brown and unrecognizably broiled crispy black? I crossed it.

And, the day before that I managed to incinerate a bag of microwave popcorn. Seriously, popcorn reduced to smoldering ashes. My house still has a faint 'good crap, who burnt the popcorn' smell. And I don't think my microwave {or my confidence in my ability to microwave popcorn} will ever be the same.

And that, with a huge ole' serving of chaos and lack of sleep, pretty much sums up my life since my last tour de feet post.

My little sister, Katie, moved into our guest bedroom. Which explains all the chaos and neglectful cooking woes.

Oh, I'm just kidding.

Kate's lived with us numerous times before so we've worked out all the kinks and it's always fun to have her around. Plus my kids are about seventy-two levels of excited about our new semi-permanent house guest; specifically a semi-permanent house guest that buys them milkshakes and treats them to the gas station candy aisle upon their request. It's just like the sweet nectar of awesomeness is living in our guest bedroom.

Except for that sweet nectar of awesomeness likes to take an occasional shower. And that's where things get a little problematic.

Because, do you remember how we started Project: Master Bathroom? Like, forever ago. And then, do you remember, how Project: Master Bathroom turned into Project: I'd much rather stay up all night and watch Lost. And then Project: It's kind of nice to only have two toilets to clean, so we will work on the bathroom a little here and a little there but no rush on getting that third toilet back up and running. And then Project: If you close your eyes when you walk into the Master Bedroom it's just like that HUGE UNFINSHED HOLE FORMALLY KNOWN AS THE BATHROOM doesn't even exist.

And that worked. For a while.

And then Kate asked if she could move in.  And so Spence and I decided that it was high time that we took back claim on what remained of our master bedroom and bathroom so our new roommate could actually use the guest bedroom and bathroom. It just made sense.

So with that we blew the sheetrock dust of Project: Master Bathroom and since then we have done nothing else.

Spencer took most of last week off work. We tiled. And designed. And Home Depoted. And sheetrocked. And grouted. And barely slept. And burnt microwave popcorn. And left the house and all of its contents at the children's immediate disposal. It was like the tale of an amateur construction team meets crazy. Sorry you missed it.

And needless to say tour de feet went out the window with my sanity. And the burnt French bread.

And although Project: Master Bathroom is no where near completion we've made progress. We have a toilet, and a floor, and a bathtub, and a shower. And get this . . . the other night I came upstairs to find Spencer cleaning the garage out of our bedroom. There he was, shining like a bright beacon of cleanliness and delight, picking up tools to expose what used to be our bedroom floor. It might have been my favorite part of the entire week. And now we are back to sleeping in our very own bedroom. And earlier this evening the kids took a bath in the new bathtub. And look, I'm even posting tour de feet pictures.

Everything's back to normal. Whatever that is.

P.S.

No, I don't always where flip-flops when we do construction work.

Sometimes I go barefoot.

Why all the feet pictures?

More about tour de feet here.

Cream of the Crop

It thundered today. Big, loud thunder. And then it rained. We left the windows open and smelt the rainstorm. It was rejuvenating.

Spence took the day off work.

Instead, we worked on tiling the master bathroom while the kids sat on the massive bed in all its massive glory and devoured butter popcorn. And then they both took a nap.

While the kids dreamt, Spence and I cranked up Pandora and tiled like we were getting paid to do it. Except nobody would really pay us, because. . . well, were annoying. Spencer can't sing a song without changing the words and I can't listen to a song without singing back-up. And neither of us can sing a note in tune. And then Spencer makes up jokes about stupid things, and I laugh really loud, because I think he's funny. And then we play 'remember when' and laugh at some of the dumb things we've done together.  And there's quite a few.  And then we swear that we are getting more mature. Except for not really, because we're not. And we know we're not. And then I'll try to put a tile on the wall and Spencer will tickle my armpit, or pinch my butt. Because, chivalry is not dead after all! And then I tell him to knock-it off. But he never does. And I know he never will. And then we will sit back and admire our FAYN-CEE improvements. And we'll talk about what a good construction team we make.

Because if you ask me, Spencer's a dang good construction foreman. And not to brag, but I totally ROCK at being the construction peon.

I'd hire us!

Probably.

My eyes. They’re heavy.

::Spencer doing master bathroom demolition with toilet paper ear plugs::

Um, hi there. I'm tired. Really tired. Like exhausted kind of tired.

I got out of the shower this morning and slicked my wet hair back into a braid. My arms were too heavy to lift above my head to run the blow dryer and I couldn't see straight to put my make-up on. So I didn't.

I told you that we started Project: Master Bathroom, right? Well the last few days we {read: mainly Spence} have been busy Project: Master Bathroom-ing. That's how we spent our Memorial Day weekend. Relaxing, huh.

After dinner tonight I had to make a supply run to Home Depot. Before I left I said a quick prayer.

Dear Heavenly Father. I have to go to Home Depot AGAIN. It's just going to be me and the kids. And I'm tired. Please let the kids be on their best behavior. No fits or whining. And please, oh please, bless me that I'll be patient with them. Amen.

Oh and Heavenly Father, while we're gone Spence is going to be doing some electrical work. Please bless that he doesn't blow the house up. Amen.

I'm happy to report that albeit tired, Spencer was still in one piece when we returned home. So was our house.  And so were my children.

God does answer prayers.  Even tired, uncombed hair ones.  Oh happy day.

:: monkey number one ::

:: monkey number two ::