Happy Halloween!

Riding the bus everyday to and from work/school I get a chance to meet some great people and get to know them fairly well. One of my bus friends is named Chris. We are often dressed in a suit and tie on the same day (Thurs), but for different reasons. He is a Jehovah's Witness and proselytizes on Thursdays, and I work at the MTC and often have presentations there about missionary work on Thursdays. Sometimes I see the strategically placed (really, "left behind") Awake! or WatchTower magazines on the seats of the bus which virtually everyone avoids acknowledging, and know its been Chris' warm-up for his own work. He really is a great guy and is very friendly (maybe overly so), knows everyone's name and has a disarming laugh.

Anyhow, twice in the past week I have mistakenly, and honestly, asked him about his Halloween plans or about holidays. I know that the Jehova's witnesses do not celebrate the holidays, but for some reason I completely blanked these two times, which, actually, I think is pretty funny.

The previous story has no point.

I love Halloween. Candy candy candy.

I came across this video today. I love it. So, for all you "Chris-es" out there (and for anyone with a good sense of humor) I give you this holiday offering. Enjoy!
http://www.vimeo.com/clip:113868

Dream, Dream, Dream

The other night when we were at volleyball, I got hit in the head four, yes four, times. It was a riot, especially because the first and hardest hit was from Scott (it left a little red welt on my forehead for a few minutes). Anyway, that night as we were falling asleep, my cuddling was interrupted by Scott's whole body jerking, resulting in his head propped up completely perpendicular to his body, eyes open. I grumbled at being so rudely startled, and he started laughing. He had dreamt that I had hit a volleyball at his head! We both had a good laugh at that.

This is not the first time I have been interrupted from my sleep by his dreams. About a year after we got married, we were sleeping and his arm was draped across my shoulders and chest, and he started pushing down on my collarbone. It was a little uncomfortable. So I reached under his arm and started pushing it up away from me, but he just pushed harder, and he is much stronger than me. It got to the point where I was a little nervous cause my breathing was almost affected. Then he said (which is now a classic line), "You're not getting away this time, Mr. Jackson!" I said, "Scott" rather louder than I needed to, but it woke him up. He just mumbled, "oh, I thought you were Michael Jackson and I was arresting you" then rolled over and went back to sleep. Good times.

It's beginning to smell a lot like Christmas

When I was a teenager I had friends who loved candles. They loved incense and smelly lotions and anything that would permeate a room with an asphyxiating aroma. I was never a smelly lotion kind of girl, and although I would use and smell their lotions and agree that they smelt good, in the back of my mind I really thought they all smelled the same. In fact, I would privately roll my eyes and think that smelly candles were kind of juvenile.

I don't know if my olfactory receptors have changed, or if candle companies have gotten better, but I repent of my old ways. I love having a good smelling house! Candles, lotions, and especially oils have such a great variety of smells, it's great! True, a lot of them I still don't like, and a lot of them still smell similar to me. But a relatively new passion of mine is to match a scent to a season. I got a new Wallflower plug-in that is Christmas Spice scent. It's a mixture of cinnamon, a little clove and other spices. Everytime I smell it, it just makes me happy!

Crazy Britta

Here is an illustration I finished last week for the Liahona magazine. It will be published in March. Because I'm still new to working with a deadline, this illustration caused me a little bit of panic. There were times when I just wanted to throw the whole thing across the room, and times when I almost vowed never to paint again. But now that it's all done and handed in, I'm looking forward to my next commission. Crazy!

Half the time I feel like I don't know what I'm doing. Wouldn't it be nice to just know how to do everything, and to be able to improve talents just by wanting to?

Spring Gardening

When I was invited to plant spring bulbs in the reception center gardens, I imagined myself in a wide straw hat with a charming bandanna wrapped around it to keep me in the shade as I dutifully dug holes in the soil, making friends with the worms and potato bugs. Even though I was planting bulbs for spring, the beauty of the fall flowers already in full blossom would be my backdrop providing a sea of warm reds, yellows, and oranges. Perhaps I would sing an aria of Mozart's as birds and squirrels eagerly rushed to be by my side.

Unfortunately, I don't own a straw hat with a wide brim. Yesterday while planting what I'm sure will be beautiful tulips and daffodils, the temperature was around 45 degrees and it was pouring rain for the first two hours of gardening. I was amazed that I could still use my hands when each finger was an inch wider in circumference due to mud caked on my gloves. And that sea of fall colors as my backdrop had to be uprooted to make room for the new bulbs, so it was more like a pile of dirty greens, browns, and mud. Notwithstanding the adverse weather, I had a surprisingly delightful time gardening. I envy those of you who have your own yards and gardens. Someday...