Reading, Smeading...give me a cookie...

I broke down and started reading Twilight. It was after I actually purchased the DVD that I picked the book up. It probably should have been the other way around. It’s just that, and this is embarrassing to admit, but I don’t like to read.

Sitting down and getting into a book is more of a chore than recreation. Perhaps it’s because the second I pick up a piece of literature I feel like I should be taking notes, analyzing the protagonist/antagonist relationship, and memorizing facts to regurgitate later on a test.

While blog surfing I’ll occasionally come across those with a “Shelfari” posted. This is to say that friends and family post what they’re reading at the moment or what their favorite books are. I’ve come to the conclusion that to be honest with myself, my ‘shelf’ would have to be called a “Foodfari”. Where others post their love for books, I would have to post my love for food. What am I eating right now… Favorites… Dishes I’d like to try… How sad it is that food is more interesting to me than books?

It’s not that I wasn’t raised to love reading. My mother read to me constantly. Little House on the Prairie, Mrs. Piggle Wiggle, Ramona Quimby, Anne of Green Gables, etc… To this day my mother reads constantly. There’s a stack of 4 to 5 books on her night stand she jumps between. But to be fair I was also raised to love food. (lol) It’s funny that when most families recall trips it’s the activities that they remember. Oh no, not the Kings… it’s the food we ate. “Remember that restaurant with the…”

I guess my point of all this rambling is that for the first time in a long while I’ve enjoyed reading again. I’ve devoured this book. Maybe it was the hype that kept me away or the chore of almost 500 pages, either way I’m beginning to find a love for recreational reading again. It’s sad that it took Twilight to spark my interest. But can you blame me?

I think going forward I’ll have to try to mix the “Shelfari” and “Foodfari”… “….while reading Tale of Two Cities might I suggest Kroger brand iced oatmeal cookies and a cold Dr. Pepper…”

It's so true...

My Lucky Charm

I had seen, “Rodgers, Gary” on the caller id and ignored the call. The oldest of the Rodgers boys had made a name for himself in the singles ward and I was weary (Sorry Stu.)

Alvin didn’t exist until the YSA rafting trip down the Deschutes. I was a spunky girl from Utah in a low cut swim suit (…that Rosie helped pick out. We’re so good at flirting… Look at my chest; don’t you want to date me?) Needless to say, he spent the trip following around a girl named Willow. (So much for the new swim suit…lol) A few weekends went by…

Sacrament meeting was almost over and Darcy got up to make an announcement. This was Alvin’s big move. He slid over next to me and said, “I don’t know you, but I’d like to…” I think I laughed out loud. Next thing I knew I was giving him my number. (I guess the cleavage worked after all. They should sell swim suits like that with a label attached that reads, “Luke 21:19 …patience possess ye your soul…”)

Six months later we were sitting alone in the Celestial Room of the Portland Temple waiting for the sealer. I was trying to be calm. Nothing but the word eternity filled my head. Temple dresses should be sold with a label attached that reads, “Doctrine & Covenants 132:46, And verily, verily, I say unto you, that whatsoever you seal on earth shall be sealed in heaven; and whatsoever you bind on earth, in my name and by my word, saith the Lord, it shall be eternally bound in the heavens…” And I wouldn’t have it any other way! Much of what the sealer said I can’t remember but the way Alvin looked at me across the alter I’ll never forget.

Today is our 3^rd anniversary! I don’t profess to know my sweetheart completely but here’s what three years has taught me: He has more energy in his little finger than I do in a week. Cereal is always better when eaten out of a mixing bowl. A little lovin goes a long way. One cannot have enough pairs of boot cut jeans. Quarter inch groupings from a .223 are something to celebrate. To hold a grudge he’d have to schedule it as a reoccurring appointment. He’s my sugar and I’m his baby.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Good Book

Alvin and I have been reading Gary Chapman's "The Five Love Languages". The cover makes it look ultra corny but the principles are really good. In short, "Your emotional love language and the language of your spouse may be as different as Chinese from English. No matter how hard you try to express love in “English”, if your spouse understands only “Chinese”, you will never understand how to love each other."

Chapman goes on to say, "My conclusion after thirty years of marriage counseling is that there are basically five emotional love languages—five ways that people speak and understand emotional love. However, there may be numerous dialects. The important thing is to speak the love language of your spouse."

Chapman categorizes the five love languages as: Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Receiving Gifts, Acts of Service, and Physical Touch.

I totally recommend it.

Baby Shower

It's been a busy few weeks. Last weekend I threw my best friend Kristen a baby shower. We had a great turn out. I think about 17 ladies came to help us celebrate. Sadly I forgot to pull my camera out during all the festivities. I think my favorite part was Julie Wilding's gift; she brought Krissy much needed diapers and wipes but wrapped in between was her 1998 bowling plaque. This is of course to hang over the baby's crib to inspire greatness. (lol) As part of the decorations I made a diaper cake. (This was the only thing left to photograph.) Another part of the decoration was a clothes line clipped with onesies. We found a onesie left over and it became Emmies new t-shirt. (Poor cat...)

251 Gary Way

Yesterday I was out on a Sunday drive. Now that I live in North Salt Lake again I found my self wandering back up the hill towards the house I grew up in. I was only 7 years old when we moved to St. Louis but I still remember quite a bit about that place. It surprised me to find a for sale sign in front. I had to pull over and grab the flyer. What I think my parents originally paid $70,000.00 for is now on the market for $284,500.00. They’ve done a lot of remodeling, including a horrible attempt at a Swiss Chalet look on the exterior. Those rocks are supposed to be there? Hmm. Anyway, the old brick fireplace is now cherry and what used to be grey carpet is now hardwood. I’m tempted to call the realtor and schedule a walk thru, but I think she’d be a little ticked to find out the only thing I’m interested in is seeing where I used to pick at the wall paper, dig for salamanders, and get ready for primary. To my mom this house represents the quintessential "camelot" years. I'll get her to call Polly... lol.

Random Thought...

Name associations are funny. A single name can hold so many different connotations. For example; we were trying to name our new kitty. “Maggie?” I suggested. “Maggie big eye ball,” scoffed Alvin. Apparently there was a little girl who lived up the street from Alvin when he was growing up, her name was Maggie and she had huge eye balls. So consequently Alvin nic named her “Maggie Big Eye Ball”. He admitted he called this to her face. What a sweetheart…

To this day I can’t see the name Marty without hearing Ben Kingsley talking to Robert Redford in the movie Sneakers:

Cosmo: “No more secrets Marty.”

Without even realizing it I’m usually saying it out loud. “Maawdy”

Cosmo: “Give me the Box Marty.”

I tried to find a clip of Ben Kingsley’s version but was out of luck. But for kicks here’s the trailer. If you haven’t seen it, it’s a classic pre Hacker’s, early 90’s thriller.