It never ends

Christmas came early for Nic when my Grandpa Blaine asked him if he wanted an old car from his sister-in-law's garage. The next day (Christmas Eve) Nic sent me a picture of this:

Yes, this is another car; a Chrysler Windsor. For those of you keeping track, that brings the car total to seven. I don't know how this keeps happening. But you should see how excited Nic is.

Snowballed

No one is outside today so I let Moxie and Sup run around out front while I shoveled the walkway. When we came inside, Sup was almost completely covered with snowballs that wouldn't come off.

It appears that no matter what the weather is like outside, my golden retriever requires a shower after each outing.

Orange Cat

OK, so I know that my house won't fit anymore animals, but that doesn't mean that I can't have a porch cat.

Meet Orange Cat, the newest addition to our home. Orange Cat came to us a few weeks ago and greets me every morning asking for food. He (or she) used to run away every time I got near , but we're making progress and he now thinks I'm pretty swell. I also made a little comfy house for him because it's so cold.

Nic just shakes his head--but also makes sure I remember to feed our new family member.

Three years less than 30

To celebrate turning 27, I chose to go to San Diego and see as many animals as I possibly could. Nic was a very good sport and followed me all around the zoo, Sea World, the Wild Animal Park, and even took me to San Diego's biggest swap meet where I got the raddest vintage bread box ever.

Alice Jean King

As part of my birthday trip to San Diego, we drove to Laguna Hills to meet Miss Alice Jean King, who was born just last Thursday. Anyone who knows me knows that I don't do a lot of baby holding--but somehow little Alice even sweet talked me into giving her a bottle. We only stayed for an hour, and the whole time she slept in my arms.

Something tells me that she was just trying to trick me into thinking babies are easy. You're going to have to do a lot more convincing than that, Alice, but you sure are sweet.

Percocet and pie

The day after Nic had his knee surgery, he decided it would be a good idea to make pie for Thanksgiving--three different kinds of pie actually. And not knowing how involved pie making is--and willing to do anything to indulge my pill-popping husband--I agreed. (My mom could barely believe that Nic somehow convinced me to do this; I think she almost cried.)

We moved a loveseat over to the kitchen so Nic could elevate his leg and read me the directions from The New Best Recipe cookbook--which actually worked out perfect because I hate reading any sort of directions (especially directions without pictures) and Nic wasn't supposed to walk around yet.

In the end I'm glad we did it--we had a lot of fun--but I'm also glad I didn't know that it would end up taking us six hours to bake a pecan, pumpkin, and apple pie. And, oh boy, were our pies tasty. My mother would be so proud!

Here's a sampling of their deliciousness:


Oh, we even made the crusts from scratch...just FYI.

Lateral release

Nic's knee surgery was a success. The only hitch was that when the doc opened him up, he discovered that Nic's knee cap was off to the wrong side and he had to laser-cut a ligament to get it back in place in a procedure called a lateral release. (This was in addition to shaving away some messed up cartilage.) So we were told that the whole recovery process would be a little more intensive.

Really, the hardest part of Nic having surgery is trying to keep him from going crazy from sitting around all day and making sure he's taking his Percocet. I think I did a pretty good job though. In fact, I think the most painful part of the whole weekend was watching the new Indiana Jones movie.

And just as a side note: It is a rule of the hospital that the patient writes "Yes" on the limb that is going to be operated on. It just makes me wonder how many times doctors accidentally got the wrong leg or arm or whatever before they instated this rule.

Juicy

Each fall (for as long as I can remember) family and friends have come over to my parents house to make apple juice. Here's how it works:


1. My dad buys three to six bins (these things are HUGE) of three different types of apples.
2. People come over to the house to hand wash, grind, and press the apples and then bottle the juice.
3. My mom stocks the kitchen with tasty soup and other snackins.
4. I mostly eat tasty soup, snack, and talk to people--occasionally venturing outside to work.
5. My dad makes sure that everyone goes home with more apple juice than they feel comfortable with. Sharing makes him happy.

Here's a rare photo of me working the grinder with my dad this past Saturday.

Me and Nic--what a team.

The best part of making apple juice is seeing my dad. For those of you who don't know him, he is where I get my tendency to be somewhat reserved in a crowd--we both like to fly under the radar. But for two days each fall he is Mr. Social, making sure everyone has a great time and gets lots of juice. It's fun to see. Thanks for a great party Mom and Dad!

The Js

Josh and Jessica came to visit last weekend, which is always good times. They went to the BYU football game on Saturday, but the real fun started when I got back from California and we went to the Body Worlds exhibit, The Gateway, bowling, a movie, played cards, and ate sushi. I didn't have my camera but stole some of Jessica's pictures off of Facebook. It looks like they enjoyed some tasty frozen yogurt without me.

Here's Jessica and her little sister Caitlin, who is attending BYU.

Alexi doesn't look to thrilled about her choice of flavors.

Mom looks like she chose well.

I can't ever tell with Josh. He's so mysterious.

I couldn't bowl without first enjoying some Burgers Supreme. They forgot to give me napkins. The end.

Rock of Love--Halloween edition

With being sick and going to California, I've neglected to share some Halloween pics. First, our office party. A few of us in Marketing Communications dressed as Rock of Love. Minus all the Botox and other "enhancements," I'd say we did pretty well. Can you spot the real Brett Michaels?


Moxie and Sup were also forced to celebrate. Their only disappointment was not being able to lick all the little kids who came to the door.

Moxie's costume lasted all night.

Sup's, however, did not.


Instead of getting another costume, I also made Nic dress up as Brett Michaels and we went as Rock of Love to a neighbor's Halloween party. I didn't get a picture of Nic until after a lot of wig swapping.

Keeping busy

I got this link to a live feed of a litter of puppies and I'm totally captivated. They are growing up so fast!

I don't know what people did before the Internet.

http://cdn1.ustream.tv/swf/4/viewer.45.swf?cid=317016

I'm watching you, California

I don't know if it's the perpetual sunny weather, job opportunities, or a combination of the two, but California keeps snatching my friends and I don't appreciate it. It started with Chris about six months ago and now Alissa and her whole family have fallen victim to California's solicitations. So this weekend was my turn to check this place out.

Turns out, California is pretty awesome.

Alissa is just about ready to welcome baby Alice into the world. She pretty much has no choice but to be a surfer girl.

We're lucky all the laughing at The Improv didn't turn in to an early labor. Harland Williams was hysterical--but I can't repeat much of what he said.

Did I mention that it was 80 degrees?

Don't mind us. We're from out of town. In fact, Andrea and I both live in Eagle Mountain.

I knew that Chris probably wouldn't come back to Utah, but I still was holding out hope for Alissa--until this weekend. They have been Californiafied and I don't blame them, it's beautiful. So now I'll just have to look forward to many more weekend getaways and deal with the snow in between.

Thank you Alissa for a wonderful girls weekend and for letting me come again soon.

Ska-lloween

Most people know that Nic and I met at a concert six years ago, but not everyone knows that it was a reunion concert of a couple local ska bands (I sometimes try to leave that part out). In fact, the very first thing Nic ever said to me was "So who are you here to see?" Hey, it apparently won me over.

Well, on Saturday those very same bands reunited again for the first time since we last saw them--so of course we had to go relive the night we met.

We had tons-o-fun and danced our little hearts out--the big difference being we got to go home together, had to sleep in until 11 a.m. because we were out so late, and Nic's back ached all day yesterday from dancing.

If this becomes a once-every-six-years event, I'm scared to see how lame we're going to feel next time when we're thirty-two.

Exceeding expectations

I made chicken noodle soup this week. Nic was so excited that he told me I should blog about it. In fact, he was so overjoyed by a home-cooked meal that it kind of made me feel bad for not cooking more often. But really, we all know that isn't going to happen. I do know, however, that when I manage to make dinner, it will be thoroughly appreciated.

Celebrity crush

It doesn't bother me that Nic has a crush on someone other than me. And it's no secret that I have my own thing for another guy. But what I absolutely love is the complete difference between our current movie star objects of affection.

Take Nic's girl of choice for example:

Megan Fox--we call her the Transformers girl because I don't think we've seen her in anything else. She makes Nic lose all concentration. And while she is beautiful, apparently she also manages to "get around" (nudge, nudge) and I don't recommend doing a Google images search for her. Sorry, Nic.

Now check out my pick:

You may know him as George Michael, Evan, Paulie Bleaker or, most recently, Nick (coincidence?). I know him as my current celebrity swoon and am completely captivated by his nervous shyness and love of hooded sweatshirts paired with old corduroy pants. Oh Michael Cera, could you be any more adorable?

Needless to say I'll be purchasing Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist and we'll be in line next summer for Transformers 2. Until then I'll continue to ponder what our celebrity preferences say about us as a couple. I suppose that, like politics, this is just another area where we'll agree to disagree (or get annoyed with each other because we don't see eye to eye, whatever).

Annual cut off

Nic has started a tradition of growing his hair out for a year and then promptly cutting it off each fall. So per custom, on Friday night Nic went from this:

To this:

Everyone keeps asking him if his wife finally made him cut it. The answer is no, because when it comes to Nic, his wife has much better things to worry about than his hair.

Floor update

I tried not to laugh at Mr. Optimistic (that's Nic) when we were ripping up our laminate floor and he said he was going to have all the tile done in two weeks. Bless him.

And I'm not going to look at my last post about our torn up floor because I've lost count of the weeks that have gone by and there is seemingly no new tile floor in sight. Sigh.

But we do have wire mesh and cement down on half of our main floor. That's at least some progress right? Right.

Out late

In another attempt to make the most of our youth and childlessness, Nic was kind enough to accompany me to Tuesday night's Weezer concert. I've never been a big fan of large-venue concerts, but there's always been a special place in my heart for Weezer. (That and I've decided we need to stop being so lame and get out more.)

The best part was the "hootenanny" at the end where thirty local amateur musicians--including our friend Mike Banks on acoustic guitar!--joined the band for a couple songs. You can read more on the Weezer website, but unfortunately you can't see Mike in the hootenanny pictures.

Oh, and this picture makes it look like we were five miles back, but that's just the quality of Nic's cell phone camera. We really could see the band, I promise.

Hella cool

Nic's friend Scott recently joined the ranks of small business owners and purchased an entire helicopter. The only hitch is that he needs to accrue 500 hours of flight time before he can start his helicopter tour business.

Nic and I were gracious enough to help him log some additional flight hours--we're good friends like that.

Weekend warriors

My solution to getting Nic to take a weekend off: Take him to the middle of nowhere and make him hike around. The results? A relaxed husband, a happy wife, and two exhausted puppies.

I hiked Little Wild Horse Canyon more than fifteen years ago with my family and have always wanted to go back. It's this incredible slot canyon near Goblin Valley where you have to squeeze through canyon walls, wade through water holes, and shimmy up ledges. Totally cool.

The only problem we ran in to is the fact that whenever we've gone camping before, we've always had other "adult" people with us--meaning we haven't had to pack such essentials as a can opener or a flashlight (both of which we forgot). We did, however, bring all the ingredients necessary to make a mean Dutch oven peach cobbler.

And besides the fact that our golden retriever, Sup, almost threw in the towel and wouldn't go any farther toward the end of our hike and we almost ran out of gas trying to get back to Green River, I'd say our little weekend outing was quite the success. It certainly beat going to yet another car show.

Model husband--revealed

Remember when I wrote about how Nic had a photo shoot for Celtic Bank? Neither did I, but then someone at church stopped Nic in the hall and said, "Hey, you're the guy in Utah Business magazine." So a trip to Barnes and Noble and five bucks later we got to see Nic and his brothers Cory and Justin as small business poster boys.

Here's a closeup what Celtic Bank's copywriter had to say about Stewart Specialty Services:

Remodeling: Now and then

Sure, it has been a pain walking around on plywood for the past two weeks, but I figured out why tearing up my whole main floor didn't seem like a big deal. No amount of remodeling could ever compare to the house I grew up in Alpine. Check out a sampling of the complete gutting of our old 1900s home.

My mom looks understandably overwhelmed. She's probably wondering how my dad convinced her that this would be a good idea.

The really scary thing is that buying and remodeling an old house is still my dream. I blame my dad--somehow he's also convinced me that this would be great fun.

Grease monkey Nic hates paparazzi

Nothing to see here.

Nic hearts America

Nic's weekend turned out a lot better than he expected when I agreed that he could buy a 1967 Dodge Coronet 500. It may not look like much now, but according to Nic this is the Mopar he's always wanted.

Plus, it's hard to say no when I just bought a massive amount of tile and he's in the process of redoing our entire main floor. And just look how happy he is.

So now we have the Coronet:

And Mater: And the silver Jeep:
Not to mention Nic's other Jeep Wrangler, his Ford truck, and my Jeep Patriot.

I don't know how I let this happen. But I do know that if Nic ever tries to call me un-American again, I'll just start counting cars, because I'm pretty sure this is as "American" as I can get.

Gifted

One of my favorite stores ever is Anthropologie, even though I don't usually purchase much there--unless I find it in the clearance corner at the back of the store. So ask me how excited I was when Nic showed up with a brand new fall jacket that he got from Anthropologie (not even on sale) for our anniversary. Pretty excited.

He made out pretty well himself though: He's now rocking out all day at work with his new iPod nano and special noise reducing headphones.