My Most Handsome Man and a Fairly Cool Beetle That Nathan Saved

I love this photo of Brent.

While Mary was here, Nathan kept an eye out for really cool bugs for her to take back for a friend who is enrolled in an etymology class at BYU. When he found this guy, though, he was just so energetic that Nathan didn't have the heart to immortalize him . . . but he did let me get some photos of the little guy before I let him go.

I put a couple of the beetle on my flash drive for my Digital Photography class. We're assigned to bring in images that will be easy to lift off of one image to use in another . . . everything needs to be our own art. No clip art--I'm excited to see what I can do with the Photoshop 5 program that we'll be learning. I've paid for at least three of the five versions of Photoshop, but I've never taken the time or effort to find out even a small fraction of what the program offers.

My whole life has felt like that. I have been offered so much--and I've been too weird or self-centered or mindless or turned-inward to see all the glorious potential for learning or exploring or listening or feeling. I've missed the opportunity to choose from options that I was too lame to look for--or too afraid to take on. My comfort zone still buffers me. When I'm manic or depressed or stressed, I fall back on what is easiest. It is simple for me to perform in front of an audience and much more demanding for me to approach people one on one. Personal friendships carry an emotional price that I would rather pay off in dollars--send out for pizza rather than make home-made soup--send off cards rather than take time for a personal visit. I think about how our family lives now--pool table and a well-loved baby grand piano instead of a dining room table and sofa and chairs. We don't have family dinners at night--Brent gets home and wants a few minutes to unwind from 12 hour days and then he's ready to go to sleep. Our FHEs are on Sunday evenings and take less than half an hour. Nathan gets an over-dose of me as I follow him around some of his college classes taking notes--then our evenings are spent studying, cleaning up after the bunnies, and folding clothes while Brent does his Stake clerk stuff.

I woke up this morning at 6am and had a wild energy spurt at about 8 and I vacuumed the kitchen and family room. The rabbits went wild . . . noise! motion! ACK! They are tired tonight after such an unreal start to their day.

Actually, I am tired tonight. Nathan just brought me a millipede and I am too tired to photograph it tonight . . . so I need to give it some water and tuck it into the lovely dirt that Nathan's already gathered and it can sleep in comfort tonight until I can get some pictures tomorrow.

A son who takes Spanish, Psychology and Algebra by day and takes out the garbage and brings me bugs to see at night.

No wonder Brent is tired. So am I.

I Am a Broadway Musical Married to a PBS Documentary

I love this thought--almost a perfect metaphor describing Brent and me. I burst into song at odd and irregular intervals. Brent is careful and methodical and makes sure that he has all of the bases covered. I often forget where I put my bag/phone/glasses/keys/books/shoes. Brent gets up on Saturday morning and gets dressed and puts on his socks and shoes so that he is ready to go at a moment's notice.

I have much more to say about this. I am too tired right now. It is 2am Eastern Standard Time.

This is Fred. I write about him at the very last of my entry for today. He is big and noisy and Brent is helping him to learn some manners.
When everyone was here for Christmas, I got us all together and snapped a photo. I am really wishing now that I had gotten a professional to come in. This one gets all of our faces, but it looks really, really dumb. Especially me.
This photo, on the other hand, is a wonderful, wonderful memory of Brent and me a year ago when we went to visit Megan and Anton when Jon was born. I had forgotten that I even had it. I like it so much that I am going to print it off--along with the photo below--and send it to Brent for his office. I know that he doesn't like the one that he has there now--it is tucked away in a funny corner wall of his office. I will make this one HUGE so that everyone can see how handsome he is and how perfect we are together.
Earlier tonight, about 5 pm, I spoke with Brent while he was still at work. Then I took the bunnies with me on the porch and moved all of the plants out of the huddle that had protected them from the freezing temperatures we had last week. It was like I was stretching my own legs out and reaching my face up to the sky to feel the sun. I transplanted some new babies and gave just about everyone some new soil. I'll fertilize more later, when the plants have had a chance to settle down. A few days ago, I visited Lowe's garden section (after two nights of below freezing temperatures) and found these dainty, perfectly proportioned miniature roses. There were also some bougainvillea with blossoms that were a water colour mix of orchid pink and nectarine orange. Nice plants, yes. BUT the most amazing part of the whole experience was that when I saw them, I realized that THEY had SURVIVED the FREEZE OUT DOORS AT LOWE'S!!!

So, I now have some bougainvillea (isn't that a wonderful word to spell???) in odd places about my yard and some tea roses in clusters of pots around the lanai.

Tonight I was filling some pots and with soil from the bottom pan of the small "hot house" that Brent fashioned for me--and with each handful of dirt, I kept scooping up these fat, lethargic earthworms. The soil had been dry, but deep enough to keep them from freezing or dehydrating. I picked them up and held each one in my hand--and each one began to move around! It was like a miracle. I know that it wasn't, but it felt that way. And I know that they are only earthworms--but they are earthworms that squirm among the roots of my newest plants and help them to grow--so they are MY earthworms. After placing each worm in a pot of soil, I gave each some water and watched them burrow down below the surface.

After spending New Year's with my own children and my grandson, I've been feeling very old and kind of dried up. The cold has kept me in and I didn't cover one of my favorite plants in the front yard well enough--so it is now limp and, well, dead. The rabbits run around and frisk me for treats and come for pats when they are feeling mellow. I feed the cat and let her in when she scratches at the glass doors on the porch. My son has me do Chemistry and History and Math with him. My husband lets me get him something to eat when he comes home at 9:30 at night after 14 hours of a day trying to help to fix a HUGE, but ACCIDENTAL, mistake someone else made. I do a lot of motions that have to do with a lot of people around me, but, mostly, I am not all that essential to the lives of those who live around me.

I did save some earthworms today, though, and that makes me like myself a bit better than I would have otherwise.

Felicia is in town showing her stallion at the horse shows going on over the next few weeks in Wellington--about a 30 minute drive from my house. She still cares for my own Agraciada who lives with her in Texas. I hope that we can spend some time together while she is here. It will give me another chance to connect with a person and with memories that are important to me.

Megan and I made cards while she was here--she sends lots of them out to lots of people who need her care and support where she lives in Maryland. I made a lot of them, too, but I don't really have people who need me like she is needed. Both Meg and Lauren are amazing people. I hear about and watch them go about their business and remember that I used to be that busy and ernest and focused and dedicated. Now, I think that I am mostly tired.

That is allowed me, though. Brent took me to the walk-in clinic here and they put me on antibiotics and some steroid breathing therapy. After a week of coughing and grouching and feeling itchy and hollow inside, I find out that I have the equivalent of walking pneumonia. So. We have a three day weekend and I have lots of time to sleep and muffle about the house while Brent works on our newest baby: Fred.

The Grand Cherokee is dying: the bearings are going out, so Brent bought a huge "mudder" Jeep. His heart is 1976 and most of his body is 1990. He is a golden pumpkin bronze and has 33 inch tires.

So Brent works on civilizing Fred so that I can drive him while I sleep and cough and snort and wheeze--and admire Brent's work and order the parts that Brent needs on-line.

It is late now. Brent is asleep, breathing quietly, while I finish this. Happy New Year. It's OK to be tired and old every now and again . . . especially when Brent is fixing up a new Jeep for us to drive when I feel better and have energy and am young again.

!!!!!