Enter a world where time no longer exists:

This is my best friend. She is also my cousin by marriage, but I prefer the former distinction. This is how I feel around my friend. You can see why we are friends.
Basically, we are kindred spirits in the truest sense. I wax poetic when I think about how much I love her.

And to escape ridicule from those who find my poetic-ness archaic, I will just say my simple thoughts.

I love my best friend.

I sincerly admire my best friend.

I am so proud of my best friend.

I feel only gratitude that she and I have been brought together on this earth to do good for and with one another.

I am grateful to our husbands. We use many minutes talking to eachother. We drive many miles to see eachother. We cry together. We giggle like schoolgirls. We are silly together. We are incredibly serious together. the rollercoaster of our being is sometimes hard on our spouses, and I am grateful that they see our desire to be together, and that our friendship produces great good.

I wish I lived closer to my best friend.

I like to defend my best friend.

Simplest is best. I just love her so much. So much that I needed to share.

Jensen Family

Saturday, September 27, 2008.
Drive down to Eagle Mountain to take family pictures for my cousins, The Jensens.
Here is what resulted: Enjoy. This one (below) is my favorite.

My cousin was amazed to discover how beautiful she was. She was even more amazed when I told her that this is how she looks in my head every time I think of her.

Not sure why I like this one (below), and still: I really do.

It was hard to get a smile or even attention from the girls, being as they had fallen alseep in the car during the drive up Lil' Cottonwood canyon. Which - By the way - is gorgeous! Everyone should go for a drive. YAY for Fall and it's beautiful colors!

Sayyadina and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day

The other day was dumb. Not because of anything in particular (save having gotten up with a yowling Rivulet 5 or6 times during the night, and therefore receiving little in the way of restorative sleep). It was just not the most upbeat of days.

Bairdo went to school. Rivulet and I walked down to get him and we played in the grass on the walk home. We had lunch. Rivulet threw a fit (something haveing to do with Ice Age) and I finally decided that although I reserved my homemade popsicles for the evenings when I could savour them in private, I had to get these children QUIET!

Popsicle bribery isn't a proud profession, but it is a common one. (Take a moment to note the picture below, for this is the sort of popsicle mold I was using.)


Rivulet sat contentedly with her popsicle of Apple Juice and watched Nemo with Bairdo sucking away on his similar ice treat. I retreated into the office to munch away on my peach-apple popsicle. After a while, Lemur brought in the remnants of his and went on his way, happy as a lark in a glen.

Rivulet soon after followed suit and brought in hers, barely touched, and handed it over to me. Well, as I said, it had been a stupid sort of day. So I set about to eating hers, though I had just finished one of my own. Popsicle eating is a comforting sort of work. As my brother says, "Nothing brightens my day like a delicious, refreshing popsicle."

As I made it to the last two bites, I looked down at the bowl above the stick and was met by eight coal black eyes masked in death.

Yes, Ladies and Gentlemen of my blogging community, I was tongue to face with a frozen dead spider!

I will here take a moment to express the willies that overtook my entire body: I could not even scream. It was an eerie sort of calm, where I felt that my heart had simply stopped beating. The fear and the horror clasped tight my bosom and my mind countered with absolute numbness.

I still cringe and fidget inside when thinking of the curled and frozen corpse, it's lifeless while still malevolent eyes stairing straight on into eternity.

Yikes.

There, Desertbound. No more "First day of School" blogs!

I think I may have gone a little insane.

P.S. The title of this post is actualy the title of a childrens book. can anyone tell me what the original name in the title was?

Tearful firsts

Captain Bairdo on his first day of School!The morning my son began school heralded all things associated with it: fall, excitement, fear, fun and adventure. I mad him a pencil can before he woke up and started crying. I had to take deep cleansing breaths just to get through breakfast. He dressed himself in shorts and then asked for a coat. I dressed Rivulet, who also required a coat. While putting on his "super shoes," I quizzed him on all the important information:

"Who do you go home with?"

"Only Mom!"

"Do you take anything from strangers?"

"Neva!" (Never.)

And so went our exchange. We even picked a password. I scrambled to get all his paperwork and donations for snacks and all that . . .All in all, I was in such a flutter I nearly forgot to snap his first school morning picture! I had to unlock the house and fetch the camera while Rivulet waited in the stroller.

All my worries were for naught, however. For once we got to the school, he was truly his Captain Bairdo persona. He fearlessly went straight to his classroom, hung up his back pack, got out his things and sat down in his seat (being able to read his desk tag!)

He waved at me and yelled, "I love you mom!" He seemed ready to move on.

So I turned to stroll Rivulet back out into the September chill.

And I could hear him behind me, excitedly telling another student, "I'm going to learn how to read!" What mother could be prouder?

He never looked back, though I did. Rivulet didn't cry. But I did.

Speaking of firsts, Yesterday we bought and built Rivulet a "big girl bed." This is her sleeping in it. Like the cottage lamp? It's mine. My mom bought it for me when I was fourteen. And now: Peace like a River.