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...

Woo Hoo!

BYU 31
TCU 17

Volley-fall

Each Thursday night is stake volleyball night. Our ward has a co-ed team for the stake league, but that is debatable since we haven't had enough bodies out to have a full team yet. I don't know how you would credit a win/loss when both teams don't have enough players to have a team, but oh well.
Britta and I have been to a couple of our scheduled games just to mix with another ward and play an unofficial game. It has been a lot of fun, so far, plus, I've been able to stick around another hour afterward to play some basketball. Honestly, that's about 80% of the reason I go.
This last Thursday Britta and I joined some others for volleyball and everything was great. I think that the best quote of the night was Britta, when asked if she could set, said "I'll try not to suck." She didn't! She played very well.
I think that my volleyball career is now in question, however. While playing the net, I jumped to block and came down on the opponents' foot, and sprained my ankle!!!
Luckily, Brett and Sarah had some crutches and a walking brace, which has been a lifesaver. Now, if I can just get better, but sprains never heal quite as fast as I wish they would.

Sweet sound of middle C

After three wonderful years of marriage, Scott and I looked back and felt that something was missing. Both of us being musically inclined felt lost without a piano... so we got one! Scott found a posting in the newspaper selling a used digital piano for really cheap. We went to check it out and found it to be all that we wanted and in great working condition. Of course, it had little quirks, but nothing we were bothered by. So, we borrowed a truck, packed it up and brought it home. We carefully maneuvered it into our apartment and eagerly plugged it in...

Boom! was the only sound we heard as we switched on the power. None of the keys worked. None of the buttons worked. None of the plugs were loose. Scott unscrewed the top and started experimental surgery on the motherboard, plugging and unplugging. I got nervous and couldn't watch, so I left. An hour and a half later, he had no success. We both went to bed heartbroken and had restless dreams of broken pianos. The next morning Scott woke up and went straight to the piano and started tapping middle C. Then he turned on the power... "Ding, ding, ding, ding... " Middle C was sounding through the apartment as the sweetest wake up call I've ever heard.

We're not sure why or how the piano started working again, but it has quickly become the most cherished possession in our apartment, played on multiple times a day by either or both of us.

I CAN contribute to something

I am a closet poet. So I suppose you can consider this a coming out party. . .

Darn It

I really hate it when you're wet,
thin, and stretched, and unable
to stand,
but falling 'round my ankle.
Holy?
No, I wish you weren't
But fat. And Taut
And full of clout
I'll put my foot into your mouth.

I have three other poems posted on www.poetry.com, (Superfluous, untitled, To One Apart)
This is one of my favorites, though.

See, I can contribute to something, even if it is my own [wife's] blog.

the end.

Home again, home again

While in Minnesota we celebrated the first birthday of one of my nieces. I was asked to make the cake, and I jumped at the opportunity cause I love cooking and being creative.

My mom thought it was so beautiful no one would want to eat it. Well, it turned out that the shortening in her kitchen that I used to make the frosting was rancid, so we ended up throwing away all the leftovers anyway. At least my niece got to keep the doll.

A big chunk of our time in Minnesota was spent on the north shore of Lake Superior. We camped and hiked and wandered a little in Duluth, a city that I love. The trees were just starting to color at the tips of the leaves. The temperature was perfect. The clouds were light and cool during our day hike, but fluffy and sparse while we were hanging out at the campsite. Over all it was a satisfying trip.

On our hike we were the furthest north that Scott has ever been.

The group that went on the day hike was a smattering of my immediate and extended family. My dad, on the left, was our fearless guide on this seven mile stretch of the Superior Hiking Trail. Doesn't he look the part?

Minnesota State Fair

Today Scott and I went to the great Minnesota get together. I love the Minnesota State fair! I don't know if it's the crowds with endless people watching potential, the 27 different foods on a stick (this year the new one was "hot dish on a stick", hot dish is Minnesotan for casserole), or the smorgasborg of smells mixed together of fried food, autumn air, garbage, and farm animals. All of it is nostalgic to me.

One of the sights to see is the butter sculptures of Princess Kay of the Milky Way and her royal attendants. Each day a new bust is sculpted right there in front of everyone. Maybe they're a little creepy, but it's tradition. Plus, what beauty queen from a dairy farm wouldn't want a butter head of herself in her freezer?

Another tradition is to buy a bucket of fresh made cookies and bring them to the all you can drink milk stand, which is fresh, frothy milk, and have a cookie feast.

It's not a complete day unless at the end of it your feet are sore and your clothes fit a little tighter.

Ah, Minnesota...

Playing in Lake water is so much fun, especially when the entire lake ends up in your diaper, sand and all. The diaper on my niece Sofia got so big it looked like a watermelon lumbering between her legs. It was amazing she could keep walking since her balance was precarious to begin with. Being at the lake is so wonderful and relaxing. With nieces and nephews, it's a blast!

I'm looking forward to Wednesday when Scott will come. Vacations are much better with husbands.

And you thought your laptop was small

Scott got a cool new toy from work.

It's about the size of a piece of paper. It's so small that it won't even fit a disk drive. Scott has to attach a separate media base if he wants to use a CD or DVD. He's having a lot of fun with it.

From out of the stone age...

We finally emerge into the Peterson blogging scene.

Yay! This is fun to play with! I can see how it can become addicting to post things and keep the world informed of all that goes on.

This is a painting that is the first in a series I'm doing about the symbolism in the Chronicles of Narnia. For those of you who have read or seen the movie, the figure of Aslan is obviously symbolic of Christ. This painting is called "Good and Terrible." Here are some quotes that were inspirational to this painting:

"When they tried to look at Aslan's face they just caught a glimpse of the golden mane and the great, royal, solemn, overwhelming eyes; and then they found they couldn't look at him and went all trembly."

"His hair was like pure gold and the brightness of his eyes like gold that is liquid in the furnace.... and in beauty he surpassed all that is in the world even as the rose in bloom surpasses the dust of the desert."