new toys

Every once in a while we make it to a garage sale on Friday morning. Usually, we pick just one from Craig's list that sounds promising. Yesterday it was a joint kid's sale being held in a local church. The find of the day was a little tykes rocking horse. Cumorah was in love, rocking so hard she was scooting it forward. So I had someone put a hold on it for me while we looked around some more. Cumorah kept going back to it and riding on it while I was looking around. At one point when I looked up at her, she had the rocker's price tag and a big red sign stuck to her back that said, "Hold for Maryann". She's such a cute girl and with such a low price, I'm glad the hold sign was on her back along with the price tag.

The construction hat was purchased as a Daddy's Little Helper hat. It stays in Daddy's tool room until he needs help fixing something. She already got to use it, with screwdriver in hand, to help Daddy fix a knob on a dresser.

The weather has been so nice, I often put the girls out on the back deck while I'm making dinner. I can see them through the window and the open door. I started laughing when I saw that Cumorah had put her hat on Rivers. Rivers had the biggest smile. After I found a mosquito on Rivers head, I brought her inside. When I looked out the door next, I found Cumorah in her place. Silly girl. She's always trying out the baby toys.

feeling very Iowan

On the last Saturday in August we drove three hours through the cornfields to visit the "mighty" small town of Nemaha, IA. They told us it was somewhere around population 92. Why, you ask? Because at 4 in the afternoon on that historic day right in the middle of Main Street was the Final Dance of the Farmall Promenade. We felt very priviliged to be a part of that event. And we also felt very Iowan.
















Eight restored antique tractors. Eight burly midwestern small town farmers (4 dressed as ladies). Square dancing. That is square dancing tractors. Nuff said.








Well, OK this is me typing, not Brian (or my brother for that matter, Jared you can just read Brian's posts from now on if you like, this is me sticking my tongue out at you). Anyway, it's obviously not enough said because I just don't work that way.

When Brian first told me about square dancing tractors, I was pretty skeptical. Who wouldn't be? However, it was actually quite impressive. There isn't any power steering on those tractors and they were doing some pretty fancy maneuvers. Pretty dang amazing. They got those huge tires touching sometimes. Once one of the tractors got lifted up ever so slightly when it's wheels were smashed between two other tractors. The "ladies" were entertaining, if slightly irreverent. Cumorah loved seeing the tractors. She clapped her hands to the music. After the dance they parked them all in a circle and you could climb all over them. We had a hard time getting her off.





This particular John Deere tractor was a surprise for the final show. The woman who does the calling for the dancing had this old antique John Deere that had been her daddy's tractor. The others in the group stole it. She didn't realize. She thought her brother had taken it to an antique tractor show for a display. They got it fixed up and brought it out during the part of the show when Mr. John Dear comes out. She got all teary eyed when she finally recognized her daddy's tractor. She was so surprised and so happy.



The Farmall Promenade retired this year. They've been dancing for 10 years at state and county fairs and other events. The drivers are all working farmers. The last dance was saved for their home town. We could have seen them at the state fair, but it didn't work out with Brian's schedule. I'm actually glad it worked out that way. It was way more fun driving through miles and miles of corn with the occasional soybean field. There really wasn't much out there. I did see a pig finally, although it was apparently lost. I enjoyed seeing small town America. I might be from a small town, but not a real small town. It's close to everything. This small town is close to nothing. Around 2,000 people came out for the final dance, some from quite far. Our friends Mike and Nancy came to see the show, too. It was fun hanging out with them and finally meeting Nancy. (I really like her, Mike.) Brian also ran into one of his classmates. They both asked each other, "What in the world are YOU doing here?" Come to find out, she had a better reason than we did. She's from Nemaha. Her father was the most flamboyant of the "ladies". Too fun. After the show we bought a dinner of bbq pork sandwiches and potato salad they were serving up from a big tent. And we stopped at a little ice cream shop in some other small town we passed through about halfway home. I'm beginning to realize what a big place America is. It's really neat that we have the opportunity to experience someplace different from what we grew up with. I still don't want to stay permanently, mostly due to the winter. I do like Iowa, though. Besides, we have a genuine Iowan in the family. And Cumorah has become awfully fond of Iowa sweet corn on the cob.

apple tees

If you ask Cumorah what she did this weekend, she will enthusiastically say "Apple Tees!". And then the next most important thing, "Cah, Shaww." She says this second thing very seriously because, yes, the car did indeed get a shower in the car wash. It made a big impression on Cumorah.

But the apple trees are the most exciting thing that happened. The girls and I went to Center Grove Orchard about a 35 minute drive north of here. I found the orchard last year when I was still feeling very new in Iowa and a little bit home sick. My family went to Apple Hill every year growing up (well every year that we lived in Shingle Springs and even a few when we didn't). So did Brian's family (because they live in Apple Hill). My family is still going to Apple Hill every year. I even took a couple of my second grade classes on field trips to one of the orchards when I was teaching. It just isn't Fall without visiting the apple orchards, eating apple donuts, drinking apple cider, munching on a caramel apple... I guess there was always a bunch of eating involved. It was also just the feel and the smell of the cool mountain air that made it so special. There were many years when we would go with my cousins, the Dyals. Those were good times. In more recent years, it wasn't Fall unless Dad and Crystal were making applesauce every weekend and then I figured out how to make spiced apple jelly. Yum. I'm going to try and make some jelly again this year, so I'll be making applesauce as well. I just need to find someone with a canner...

Anyway, I found a very acceptable substitute for Apple Hill here in Iowa.

Center Grove Orchard has a ton of kid-friendly attractions. Cumorah really enjoyed the corn pool (only in Iowa) and tried to bury herself when she saw other kids burying each other. She liked the ducky races, where you use old fashioned water pumps to pump water and try to push the ducks down the trough. She liked seeing the goats and was afraid of feeding them. The ducks and the chickens were okay and the little pigs were fascinating. We enjoyed our picnic lunch in the shade on the porch and also had apple doughnuts and an apple cider slushy. After lunch we went back out and found the gigantic jumping pillow that anyone and everyone is invited to try. Cumorah really liked that. We got thrown around a bit from other people jumping and she thought it was hilarious. We stopped and watched some people try out the apple sling shot. That was pretty cool, but we were content to just watch.

Last year Cumorah and I went with our friend Aupreille and picked a big bag of apples. But this time all of the activities wore us out and as I was the only adult there, I decided to just buy our apples already picked. We did, however, get permission to go into the orchard and pick an apple to eat. Cumorah was really excited about the apple trees. I held her up and she pulled an apple off a branch. That was pretty fun to find an apple on the tree, pick it and then eat it in the shade and look up at the fruit laden branches.

We're excited to go back when Auntie Crystal is here the first of November. Maybe Crystal will make applesauce again this Fall?

return to the blogosphere

So I'm back...
for today at least.

Brian was telling the truth. I have been on some sort of Superhuman Quest to establish something that at least resembles order in our lives. Actually, things aren't that bad. I've just been a little distracted with other stuff. I've been trying to figure out how to do more than everything while deciding what of anything can be set aside (for simplicity's sake) and discovering that in reality I get most of nothing accomplished.

Mom, I have been on my treadmill desk, maybe just not as much as when I'm posting regularly. I'm still on it mostly everyday though. And Dad, I'm doing just fine, nothing's wrong, but you will be sorry you asked...

I've been feeling kind of strange as of late. Probably, just life's changes catching up to me. The quotable conversation of the month went something like this...

Maryann to Brian, "You know those vampire books?"
Brian, "grunt" (I think it was a suspicious noise and meant "yeah, where is this going?")
Maryann, "That vampire guy that everyone is in love with, he can hear people's thoughts."
Brian, Silence.
Maryann, "I'm really glad that nobody can hear my thoughts."
Brian, light chuckle "Why?"
Maryann, "I'm pretty sure I'm psychotic."
Brian, full on laughter (a little too much if you ask me)

I've been feeling a little bit like a stranger to myself. I'm not sure why. I don't think I'm having a midlife crisis, unless I'm going to die at 60. I finally figured it out yesterday. Well, I'm not sure if I figured "it" out but I did figure something out. Lightbulb moment, ya know? I've only been Maryann Taylor for three years and I've only been "Mommy" for less than two. This is roughly 10% of my life. For the other 90% of my life, I've been Maryann Hulbert. No wonder I'm feeling like maybe I'm not exactly sure who I am. I've changed. I'm obviously a lot still the same but becoming a wife and a mother are some pretty big changes. I still like fairy tales like I did when I was a girl, I still wear pig tails like I did in high school, and I have ample opportunity to say things like "That is unacceptable (behavior)." or "Isn't that amazing?" like I did when I was Miss Hulbert the second grade teacher. Even so, life keeps changing and so do I. Change is good. So I guess I've decided to focus on what I want to become and not worry about wondering who I am right now. Pretty deep thoughts, a little too deep...or psychotic, it's all the same.

yet another grand accomplishment

Brian has done it yet again. Created something amazing.

(No, I'm not pregnant. He did ask me if I was ready for the next one and I just looked at him for a little while before I started into my lengthy answer. A "NO" would have probably sufficed.)

Cumorah has been sleeping in a big girl bed for a few weeks now. We had the mattress out before Rivers was born and got the actual bed sometime after we got back from California this summer. She was the one who made the decision one night to sleep in it and she doesn't want anything to do with the crib anymore. Unfortunately, we hadn't figured out rails yet. She has fallen out on many occasions. Once when I went in to check on her I couldn't find her. When I did, I saw that she was mostly under the crib. Only her head was out and it was jumbled up with blankets and pillows. Another time I went in when she started to cry and her head and arms were on the floor but her bum and legs were on the bed. It was sort of uncomfortable I'm sure and she couldn't do much to fix the situation in her mostly asleep state. So, the point is, we needed bed rails.

Brian built some yesterday afternoon. Out of scrap wood we already had. Complete with a little book shelf that Cumorah adores. She immediately started stuffing as many books into it as she could. She didn't fall out last night. Now the rails just need to be painted. Gotta love a man like that, who just goes out and makes something for you when you need it. And it's cute, too. Wow!

Not your Walmart footstool

“Hey Brian, what has been your life’s greatest accomplishment?”

Hmmmm….

Maybe it was getting that beautiful lady to marry me... no, that’s not it.

How about those two gorgeous daughters I helped produce? No, definitely not my greatest accomplishment.

How about kissing the underside of the Benicia-Martinez bridge? I bet I'm one in only a handful of people in the world who has done that. No, that's not it.

Hey, I’ve been around the world more than a hundred times! Now that’s impressive.

But, is there something even more impressive, even more spectacular than all these... combined? Yes!

It’s the SuperStool (no, not the digestive version). I’m talking about the most high-tech fiberoptical footstool you ever did see.

In fact, Maryann is so amazed by my footstool she offered to spend our date night Friday as my foot model while I took several hundred pictures of them together.

Here’s what makes it so special…when nobody touches it, it remains quiescent, dormant, almost cute. But put some weight on it and ka-ZAM!... fiery hot beams of retina burning light burst from the legs in every direction ionizing and denaturizing everything in sight.

When Maryann asked me for a simple footstool, she should have explained what she meant by simple. Ha!

Wait until you see what she’s asked me to build next! Little does she know what I have in mind for it... lights, fans, motors, sounds, wheels, water canon, time travel... it's going to be sweet.

The Joker

Mommy's homemade fruit smoothies are no laughing matter.

girls.

Since Maryann seems to be on a blogging vacation, here's a few more photos of the girls for the grandparents to enjoy...















This is all I've got on my computer. Maryann has most of the photos on her computer. She seems to be on some sort of superhuman quest to get our lives back in order at the moment. In fact, it appears she's being swallowed up by a ginormous pile of Thank You cards, Relief Society Secretary papers, bills and who-knows-what-else over there. Are you okay, honey? Are you being attacked?

Scary.

Hopefully she'll manage to climb out of there and return to the blogosphere soon because I do enjoy reading her posts between classes...

90 Degrees South

A friend recently sent me some photos of the station I pretty much built single handedly down in Antarctica.

Actually my wife made me come home before I was able to finish it (I was afraid she was going to throw away my John Wayne oil painting).

Here's the South Pole station they were using before I got there...

And here's my friend John. He really wanted to help too but I wasn't about to let him get in there and mess everything up (he often goes off and does his own thing or worse, gets caught up in other people's crazy ideas - not the kind of guy I wanted messing with my station).

But I found something for him to do. I told him he could take all that straight talk and put it towards straightening up the job site. He did a good job.

But he didn't stay very long... I think it had something to do with his prostate. I mean, not to be disrespectful, but do you have any idea how difficult it is to go to the bathroom in Antarctica? You have to get through like ten layers of clothing every time you need to go. I don't blame the guy for leaving.

Winter Quarters

Last weekend we went to the Temple.





Daddy was in charge of parenting while Mommy went inside.















"Mommy Temple. Mommy 'side Temple!"









We were having a great time until Rivers got hungry...

Fortunately Mommy showed up just in time to save Cumorah from being eaten.