Natasha the Biker Chic

Rus signed me up on the advrider forum, a place for adventurous dual-sporters to talk about motorcycling. We tried to come up with a name for me, and finally Rus and a brain spark and decided I would be Natasha. Like Boris and Natasha. So we did a google image search for that Natasha and found out that is really a hooker name. Don't do that search.

But, either way, I am still Natasha the biker...and Natasha the biker did her motorcycle safety course this weekend.
It. Was. Amazing.
I highly recommend it to anyone, biker or not. The "Safety Coaches" take you from "no, that is the start button, not the engine cut off switch...No! Left hand to brake, LEFT!" to "well done on that cornering exercise, you've really got the hang of countersteering, don'tcha...you're just having too much fun!"
So now I have my motorcycle endorsement (or I will as soon as I go to the MVD), and Rus can start buying me leather. :)
Totally kidding. It's almost summer, you know...that will have to wait till winter comes again.
Here's proof of me actually riding...Rus showed up at my class like some crazed paparazzi and took this...I'm the blur in pink on the TW-something. (Fun bike!!)
So to quote my class...Enjoy the ride, and don't kick any dogs!

Channeling Eric Carle

I have wanted to do this ever since I saw the idea on THIS website. Jacob and I had a lot of fun just as soon as we started getting dirty enough. Jacob enjoyed stamping with the plastic bag and the foam block, but he loved his own original idea of painting with his hands and arms. We let the papers dry and then we (mostly me, under the direction of Jacob), cut them into the shapes we wanted to make our very own dragons. Mine is on the white paper, Jacob's is the one with the fire breathing, man-roasting dragon.
Yes, as the John Tesh radio suggests, happiness can be found in doing things that you loved to do when you were 10(-ish). Try it!

Consider Yourself Informed.

If you've never heard Beau cuss someone out, it is quite a treat, let me tell you. His voice goes low and raspy and he uses the most profane gibberish I have ever heard. Heaven help the poor soul (usually Jacob) who opposes him...a clenched right fist is sure to follow! Just had to tell you that. It is hilarious and absolutely irrelevent to the rest of this post.

I've been thinking lately about how it is no longer acceptable to just do one thing at a time. You will run the risk of being called lazy or selfish, not to mention that it will take twice as long to do anything. So while eating dinner make sure you are also thinking up a "Solid, Liquid, and Gas," for your daughter's homework (along with spelling out each word and answering random questions like "How many is 99?" You tell me. Really.); be sure to fold each piece of laundry twice (I'll loan you Beau, he is great at unfolding and trying on everyone else's clothing);... sweep the floor while talking on the phone (no-brainer); drive and talk on the phone (whoops! No NO! TICKET!); make rolls while making jam while baking cookies while planning (and even executing) dinner; dry your hair while the kids bathe, heck read a book while drying your hair and applying makeup and watching the kids splash water and make each other furious while bathing; take the dog on a "walk" while you ride a bike with your son riding in the rear bike seat; balance said bike while being cut off by said dog, then drop said bike and son and curse dog and look up to see ten onlookers watching the cursing wailing circus and hesitantly offering assistance; deny assistance and drag said circus home; clean your bedroom while blogging and facebooking and email-checking while playing trucks while reading "The Smoke Jumper" while wishing that your dog could massage your feet instead of lick them...

And if you ever catch yourself doing absolutely nothing, like just laying on a couch, by yourself, without any distractions, surrounded by quiet and stillness...well just keep that sort of thing to yourself .

Just kidding. Gloat, brag, bombard your friends and loved ones with the tale.

They won't believe you for a second. And if they do, they'll wonder what the heck your kids were doing in that five seconds.

Check, Check

I checked two things off my list the past couple of days...
I raced in the Albuquerque half marathon...doing a 5K (one day I'll grow up and maybe run a 10K), and thoroughly enjoyed myself. Racing is really a mental game, and it felt good to push myself and have my mind keep me going even when my body would have preferred to go slower. I used to run cross country and track in high school, and as much as I loved running and my teammates (who were/are some of my closest friends), I hated and dreaded racing. It was really stressful for me and my stomach still tries to knot up if I think about it too much.
Yesterday was a good race though, because it was just me pushing myself a little bit...not killing myself or sacrificing my body for the team.
And the second thing I finished was this picture I was asked to do by my friend Janet, who is (upon remarrying a wonderful man), mother to eleven kids, most of them grown. She gave me a bunch of dirt on all of them, and this is what I came up with: She seemed really pleased with it, and that made me super happy. I'm always nervous about whether the person will like their drawing or not, or if it will be what they wanted, even if technically I feel like I did a good job. And this one was really big!! It measures 24"x30". Big mambajamba! My favorite parts were the leaves on the tree, the dog pointing at the chicken, and the guy decked out it flyboy gear.

Have a super sunday!

Table Refinished

Earlier this week Rus went out of town on a work trip...I found his absence to be the perfect opportunity to refinish my kitchen table! As he was flying away to the land of oranges, sunshine, and Disney World, I was taking apart the solid oak table that I had grown up with. My grandpa made it for/with(?) my parents for our large family of eight. I remember us squished comfortably around it with my dad teasing that everyone was to feed the person to his left. I remember James always sat tilted back on his chair with only two legs on the ground, and how after years of that abuse and the residual squeak/creak the chair acquired, it was always dubbed "James' Chair." (The rest of us always tried to be as cool as James, but we didn't have the nightly determination he did, and so we never fully mastered the skill of eating tipped back in our chair. *Sigh. Someday.)
Since those formidable years in the house of my youth, the table has also endured many years at Amanda's house and almost three years here in my house. Up until last Thursday it was paint splattered (purple, pink, sparkly - Bekah; green, blue, black - Jacob), pizza cutter-sliced (me), plumber's goo (Rus) and generally aged by all involved. It was referred to as the Grandpa table and the poor thing is now going to be able to comfortably enter retirement! No more dinners and food and spills! YAY! (I'll show you it's replacement when it arrives...and let you know what a sweet haggler I am). Grandpa Table will be placed lovingly in my front room to become cluttered with wonderful things that don't have to be put away at dinner time.
I sanded down all of the pieces, cleaned them with TSP, and then rubbed a sander-deglosser over the whole thing. Then I sanded everything again, deglossed it again, wiped it down with a tack cloth, and then finally started staining it. I wanted it to be dark, so I bought a "provincial" color stain and went to town. Five times. I just kept needing/wanting it to be darker, so I kept reapplying the stain.
Now the color is good, but it is very splotchy and...um...slightly disappointing. Oh well, I'm still excited to have it refinished and repurposed.And here is a bench I built with old barnwood from my wonderful friend Jackie, who actually called me and said, "We're tearing down that old barn! Come get some wood!" She is so, so great to share it with me. So Jackie, here's what I did with some of it:And now just a touch of spring to beautify your day (and my front yard...oooh it smells so good!)

Dear Grams

Yesterday morning we fed and even bathed our kids, dressed them up in their sweetest Sunday attire (Jacob had to be bribed - Sunday clothes are not for Monday), and headed up to Santa Fe. We had waffles for breakfast with the special syrup and strawberries. The kids knew then that it was a special day. We stopped quickly at Walmart to buy an all-in-one balloons + helium tank and granola bars for the ravished children (apparently the special syrup doesn't last long...).

When we were almost to Santa Fe we found ourselves right behind a hearse from French's mortuary. Not just any hearse, your sweet ride. You would be happy to know that the driver was a Gentleman and drove ten miles under the speed limit the whole way there. We know because we decided to follow him. We were pretty sure it was you, but thought that worst-case scenario we'd just wind up at another cemetery.
There, you had your own little procession.
We got to the National Cemetery a little early and so we blew up balloons while we waited. Rus took over the helium tank, and within no time he had blown up and popped five balloons. To save the rest of the bag Rus reduced the size from 12" to 8". It seemed to work...my eardrums kept ringing, though. We blew up 25 balloons.
Bekah and Jacob said it looked like a party in our car.
I just giggled...
More people arrived and we formed a circle outside on the sidewalk to keep the wind out from under our skirts. The men's jackets were taken off and given to the foolishly cold, like myself and Libby. When everyone was there we all hopped back in our cars (our party car!) and drove up to the pavilion.
Your strong grandsons and sons carried you to center of the pavilion, a few of the women sat, and Roger proceeded to bless and dedicate the grave. It was emotional to say goodbye again after just having the funeral on Saturday, but it was okay.
Now I know you aren't Mormon, and neither are Don and Jeanne, but Roger just couldn't help but dedicate your grave with the power of the Priesthood. It put a smile on his face to just slip that in the prayer.

After the prayer Roger removed some of the irises (your favorite, and purple, even!), and gave them to each of the girls to press and have for a keepsake. I gave mine to Beau, he destroyed it behind my back, and then Roger gave me a new one.

(DeAnn and Carla)Then came my favorite part. Rus and the kids retrieved the balloons from the van and everybody took one (even the adults) and wrote notes on their balloons. Louise kissed hers...Oh you probably know already, but just let me tell it anyways...

Then all at once we let them go with kisses and notes of I love you. We watched them until they disappeared into the clear blue sky.We hope you saw them.

I know you did.
Love you.P.S. We had lunch later at McD's. Grandma, Grandpa, and four of their kids with nine grandchildren. We made an impression, let me tell you...especially for the three elderly, dressed up couples next to us having a respectable Monday afternoon luncheon. With the husbands and wives getting the food at different times, I swear they thought there were three sets of twins in the mix! Ha! You would have loved it!

Happy Easter, Funny Bunny

While special mornings should be anticipated and celebrated, they should also not be preluded by kids interrupting your sleep - several times in the night - each child. No one was favorite this morning.
Last night Bekah fired her Easter Bunny questions and requests at me like spit from a camel.
"I want a number one (early reader) book."
"I want a stuffed bear."
"I want some church stuff."
"I want some scriptures."
(Jacob chimed in: "Superhero stuff!")
"How will he know what I want?"
"Can he see me all the time?"
"How big is the Easter Bunny?" I think this last request stemmed from the need to know how much loot he could really carry. I explained that unlike Santa, the Easter Bunny just gives you stuff for fun...stuff that he wants to give you. If you will remember, Rus and I frequently lie* to our children, so indulging them in this Easter time fantasy doesn't really bother me. I know what Easter is all about, and I teach my kids that, and meanwhile I love surprising them with baskets full of goodies that I pretend really come from a loving, sneaky rabbit.
*"Lie," as in embellish, fib, exaggerate, or overstate truths that will one day need to be sorted out.
So in response to Bekah's last question I told her, "I don't know," to which she replied "Let's leave out a big piece of brown paper and then the Easter Bunny can draw a picture of himself so we know how big he is!"
Sounded good to me. Here's what we found out.
This is official you know...tell your friends a great mystery has been solved.He even signed his name.
And what a messy rabbit he was! He left eggs everywhere!
(Can you see what time it is? My awesome Ikea light? The Evil Tball glove?)Beau slept in these clothes, that's why he looks so handsome so early in the morning...Cheap bunny!
I loved catching Beau in the act of stealing candy from Bekah's basket. She discovered him, too, but was reassured mid-cry when we told her to go steal from his basket.And please compare these two pics:
Jakey from Easter 2008, just over 2 years old:And Beau from today:Bekah loved her jump rope (hello Rus toes!)And Jacob loved the bubblesAnd both boys had engines to run these motorcycles, thank goodness.We had a really fun morning...and I didn't even have to make the kids breakfast. Thanks, Easter Bunny!


Now. This is what Easter is really all about...
I sat today during General Conference and thought about why I believe in Jesus Christ. Here is the list I came up with:
1. Because I've been taught about Him my whole life, and I understand the plan of happiness.
2. Because I know how much I need Him...I am not perfect. God the Father is perfect. I need the grace of my Savior to help make up the difference and allow me to live with Him and God again.
3. Because I have come to love Him from reading the scriptures.
4. Because I have brothers on earth who love and care for me...It's not such a stretch to think that a perfect, powerful, loving brother would sacrifice His life for me.

And what do I believe about Christ?
I believe that Jesus Christ is my brother, my Savior, and my mediator, and that everything He does, He does out of love. Love for me, love for you, love for the vagrant downtown, love for every sinner and every supposed saint.

Simple.
Essential.