A little more hometown love

I did a little happy dance when I opened my mailbox today and found my hometown of Logan, Utah, featured in the Sundance catalog.

My childhood growing-up home was a block and a half away from this theater in Logan's historic district. I saw so many classics of the 70s and 80s here. Amadeus. Short Circuit. The Hunt for Red October. Star Wars & ET (although those last two might have been around the corner at the other theater, the Capitol, which is now an Opera House. Yes, in Logan we have an Opera House. Because we are that kind of community, that's why.)

^
I miss these wide streets
(it would make driving in Boston much easier).
According to the catalog, this Citroen van is also for sale
for $29,000.
Truth be told, we don't really see that many of those
around Logan. Plus it's parked illegally.
By the way, as far as I know
(correct me here, Loganites)
Sundance Film Festival has never ever
held showings in Logan.
But it's a good idea, Robert Redford!

^
And if they did hold the Sundance Film Festival here,
I'm almost positive tickets would be
more than $5 for adults, $3 for children
as the sign above indicates.
Do they even let children in to the SFF?
{I love the art deco tile, though!}

^
l) view up Center Street to the mountains
c) these green seats are very uncomfortable
r) again, this marquee is just for show.
There should be an asterisk that leads you to this message:
To get to Sundance,
take a right at the corner, go 100 miles,
take a left at SLC, go 20 miles and
exit at Park City.

images scanned from the Sundance Catalog

Quick recovery

Greg is sitting at the kitchen table, changing our options for life insurance. The kids are around...doing homework, walking in and out...so they hear some of the discussion around the dollar amount of the policies for each of us.

Maddy pipes up: Wow, Dad. If you die, we'll be rich!

Amused silence.

She quickly adds: ...rich in sadness, that is!

Well played, Miss M, well played.

Let's hear it for the boy...

Back in our third year of marriage, I decided one day to make a pie.

Now, you should know that I didn't come into the relationship a very motivated or interested cook (which is just plain sad and inexcusable, given the fantastic cook that is my mother). Greg just knew that wasn't particularly part of the deal. There would be food; usually I would make it. That's it. He was getting other things in the deal but delicious brag-worthy food? Not part of the dowry. Case in point: for the first year of our marriage we used our deep fryer wedding present more often than we should have. Eating corn dogs and deep fried potato products--our state fair food stand culinary years--added to the giddy Pleasure Island feel of our early marriage but also added to the scale numbers. We threw that little FryDaddy away when we moved from our tiny $200/a month apartment. Lesson learned.

So back to the pie story. I got out the pie plate, followed the recipe & made My First Pie. And lo, it was good. Greg came home from law school that night, took one whiff of the lemon meringue air, gazed at the beautiful pie on the counter and said, all smiles:

"I did marry a woman who can cook!"

Yes, he had to wait three patient years. I had no idea he was really pining for a wife that could cook and to his credit he never let on.

Well, me to cooking is Greg to handyman skills. As a young man, he wasn't interested & opted to take AP Chem instead of shop or autoshop in school (or, really, learning from his own dad. What is it about kids not learning from their parents?). Now and then he calls his dad for advice and info (his dad being the handyman equivalent of my mom's gourmetness.)

Recently we ordered a new gas stove and new dishwasher. In a reversal of his pay-for-others-to-do-it, they-do-their-job-and-I-do-my-job philosophy, Greg opted to install them ourselves. (And by ourselves I mean Greg. This, it should be known, made me nervous. But did I express doubts? Well, yes. A little. I had some visions of gas explosions and such. Greg's way more longsuffering than I am about keeping quiet about these things.) Seven trips to the hardware store later (a pesky-sized connector was to blame), he has done it, along with replacing light fixtures and whole outlets without electrocuting himself.

Well, color me impressed. I really did marry a guy who's a handyman.

It's official, I'm turning into a witch

Today I realized that my gradual metamorphosis to an honest-to-goodness witch is almost complete.

• Behold my frequent black apparel (minus pointy hat). I also like green.
  
• My laugh turns heads. Often people tell me "I knew you were here when I heard your laugh." My kids have been known to shush me. It's not necessarily a cackle but it might as well be, given my kids' reaction.
  
• I have dark brooding eyebrows. I'm one of those people whose eyebrows are way darker than my hair (even not counting the highlights), making me quite witchy-poo (remember HR Puffenstuff anyone?)
  
• I am turning into a night owl (okay, that's probably more vampirish...). I'm less and less of a morning person with each passing day. We host early morning seminary here at 6 a.m. (for Lauren and others but I'm not the teacher) and at first I was up and showered. Then I was up but not showered. Next I slipped to staying in bed just a little bit longer until it was time to wake up Maddy. Then Maddy started setting her own alarm. Now I'm still in bed when Lauren comes in to say goodbye at 7. This is not good since the rest of the kids and I typically leave at 7:30. Similar slippage is happening on the night end of my day, where I keep staying up later and later. Pasty skin and bloodshot eyes cannot be far behind.
• I have moments where I'm sure my grumpiness would grant me automatic admission into the International Witches Consortium...no other portfolio or application necessary. To their credit, my kids have never actually said I was a witch in these moments but they might be thinking it, I know I am.
  
• You know how witches in good standing have that one rogue hair growing out of the mole on their nose or chin? I have that, or at least I did {horror shiver}. This is not acceptable. One day I was driving and glanced in the rear view mirror. The light was hitting my face just perfectly to spotlight a long, eyelashlike hair coming out of my chin. Seriously? No one thought to say "um, there's a big long hair growing from your face"? This was not a look I was going for. Consider this permission to tell me, world. Also? I'm way too young to have this happen...it can only be my burgeoning witchhood, right?

~In other breaking Halloween news~

Tonight we finally carved pumpkins.
**
Lauren won a prize for her queen costume
at a stake dance last weekend
(hadn't they ever seen a Target costume before?)
***
We got ghosted twice on one night
{before we could put up the ghost on our door}
I have to admit we only ghosted
two families instead of four
We are the broken link
for one of the ghosty chains.

Happy Haunting tomorrow!

5 & 10 Love

We are lucky creatures to have, within a few blocks' walking distance, our very own 5 & 10. When we first moved here, we were charmed simply by its existence {how quaint! I didn't know they still had these ma & pop stores!} but now it is simply essential to our existence. Need an extra posterboard for your homework project? Walk to the 5 & 10. Spray paint for an old lighting fixture? Materials for a primary project in the morning? Just feel like exercising your 11-year-old independence and walking over with friends for some penny candy? Check, check, and check. And that's just today.

Part hardware store, part general store, part anachronistic time capsule, the 5 & 10 reveals many treasures: bins and bins of rubber balls and rubber duckies, yarn, office supplies, plumbing thingies and electrical doohickies, dishes, salt and pepper shakers, games, rubber reptiles, cowboy hats...it's difficult to think of anything that isn't there.

My parents came with a great idea when they visited a few years ago: a penny auction. They gave each family member $5 to spend at the 5 & 10. Then we took our loot home, put it in a big box and started the bidding (everyone had 25 pennies). It was a tremendous hit, leading to several command performances over the years. (You don't need a 5 & 10 either...any drugstore or dollar store will work just as well.) Be prepared for the frenzied bidding on the most unexpected items (flying monkeys, chicken chucker, and a harmonica among them). One of the unexpectedly enjoyable parts for us has been the auctioneers' (we take turns) off-the-cuff, QVC-style descriptions of the items. If you're looking for a fun activity--for all ages--this is it.

p.s. My thanks to Maddy for putting up with my shutter-happy ways. She was a bit embarrassed that I was taking pictures in the store and was sure we were going to get in trouble for something. We didn't but I'm sure she'll be frisking me for my camera before heading out on any errands in the near future.