Today: I pack for a trip to Utah to visit the hubby’s relatives- in-laws, outlaws and the like. Many of whom I love dearly and a few who - well not so much I’m sure, heh. Such is life. Such is family. You love them, they love you, they get on your nerves, they judge you with the harshness and hypocrisy of a thousand burning suns and commentate on your lifestyle, parenting style, clothing style, hairstyle, lack of style. And through it all, you attempt to smile and remember that really, behind any family crap that can be thrown at you ( I HAVE FOUR SISTER IN-LAWS- there is always PMS going on in this family), you do love these people, and you love your hubby, who is a product of these good people. . .even when sometimes you fail to see the resemblance. . .see I’m totally psyching myself up. Family. WOOOOO! Bring it on. I always have a good time in Manti (after the fifteen freaking hour drive through the wasteland that is Nevada). I fell in love in Manti and I always feel GOOD in Manti. That’s just how that town is. It makes me happy. Plus there is the gorgeous Manti temple there, where Chris and I were married. And the family cabin, which is completely wonderful and so very, very Grandpa that you just have to smile and feel all gooey and sticky inside because people, don’t singing, plastic deer heads mounted on the wall do that for everyone? No? Just the Tibbs clan? Well. . .I guess that is why I fit in.

Didja follow any of that?

Today: I am restraining myself from diving headfirst into the next two books in the Twilight series. I keep telling myself that packing is important. Clean underware: IMPORTANT. Having a thousand pages to read on a fifteen hour car ride: IMPORTANT. But I so want to know what happens next!

Today: My baby brother enters the MTC (Missionary Training Center). After three weeks there he will be off to Melbourne Australia to do missionary work for the next two years. Last night, as we chatted on the phone for the last time for the next two years, he thanked me for beating him up when he needed it. I said you’re welcome. I cannot believe he is growing up. It is good. I am really excited to watch him do this and someday get married and bring home some girl who can feel the way I feel when he brings her home to meet her new sister in-laws, “Welcome to our alien planet- yes, we really are that weird!”

As soon as he gets to Australia, my siblings and I will all be on different continents. I have no idea how my parents raised such independent children. They both live in the state they were born in, married someone from a nearby small town, and live only an hour from their parents, which is beautiful and sometimes I’m extremely jealous, but seriously- why do their offspring feel the need to leave the country? I have no idea. I can say, with all honesty, that after college and marriage and babies, I am ready to move back home for awhile. Take a little reprieve from the moving. Only one year and eight months of the Air Force left for us, and then really, who knows? Chris is finishing up his degree, and in a little over a year he starts applying for jobs. Anyone want a really gifted computer networking guy working for you in that time frame? A hunky guy who enjoys long walks on the beach, good books. . .wait. . .that was the resume that won me over- he’ll need a new strategy for the civilian job market.

Today: I have a mountain of laundry. I have cereal to vacuum off of the carpet. I have luggage to locate and then pack. Today I’m procrastinating. Typical. Better get off my butt and start making things happen.

Interred With Their Bones is a delicious mystery twisting Shakespearean fact with fiction. Author Jennifer Lee Carroll delves into the myth surrounding the man and provides a rich historical background for a tale that is as charged and delightfully cast as many of the plays around which the story unwinds.

Interred is a gripping thriller with many plot twists sure to leave the reader uncertain about whom to trust and what lies ahead. It was refreshing to read a historical mystery that didn’t insult the reader’s intelligence with long, boring diatribes on things the savvy reader probably already knows. At the same time, she didn’t leave her lesser Shakespearian-obsessed fans out in the cold. She weaves her fact with fiction in a way that is both palatable and never boring, all the while holding the reader at the edge of the seat wondering just where the story is leading.

The heroine of the book, Kate Stanley, is a Shakespearean scholar who has been given the immense honor of directing Hamlet at the Globe. The book immediately hooks her reader as Kate’s mentor is found dead in similitude of Hamlet’s father and the historic Globe burns to the ground.

I must admit, I had a hard time putting this one down; I inhaled the entire book in one sitting, and it will be one that I will be keeping on my shelves and not passing along as I do many of my books. It is rare to find a mystery these days that is both thrilling and substantial; it seems that I pick most of my mysteries off the discount shelves and expect to read escapist “fluff” that I never intend to remember or read again. While I certainly did escape into Carroll’s world, there was nothing fluffy about this read. I’m sure I’ll pick it up to enjoy again!

I have been incredibly busy. Last week was three weeks in one and I am so glad it is over. I had three major design obligations all hit in the same week, as well as needing to get all of my class examples ready for October. If anyone is going to be in the Bay Area on Oct. 13th, I will be teaching three classes and a make ‘n take at The Scrapbook Nook in San Bruno (right by the San Francisco airport).

If you want a fun day and a major head start on holiday crafting- you should be there. If you are taking my last class of the day, I must warn you that I may actually be certifiably insane by the time that class rolls around. I usually don’t do more than 2 classes in a day- so four- whoa. I have a feeling my day will be sponsored by caffiene, but it will be a blast!

So here’s what I’m teaching, and what I’ve been so busy making this week:

I’m doing a scalloped mini album in fall or holiday ( I let my class people pick their own papers or copy, whatever they want to do.)

or

I’m teaching a bind it all class too- the theme is 12 days of Christmas. We are making an envelope book. I’m really excited for this one.

And there will be a quick Bind it all Make ‘n Take as well- only a DOLLAR!

This isn’t a class- just a fun book I made while I was playing with my new Bind it all. I love Autumn!

The last class is just a general explosion box class, which I’ve taught before, so it should be a really laid back, fun class. For some reason I always really enjoy teaching explosion boxes. I let people choose their own papers, so at the end of the class we get to see all sorts of cool combonations. I’m all about expressing individuality.

For more info, just click on the links

Sitting at the computer, on the phone to England, being my cat’s chair while having a bad hair day. I got skillz.

I recently read February Flowers, a first time novel by Fan Wu. The book was exceptionally well written, which in and of itself is impressive, but even more so with this book because the author is not writing in her native language. Her command of English paired with her fluid, poetic way with imagery and detail make the book a joy to read, as the reader is bathed in the world Wu creates.

The novel begins as college students Ming and Yan form an unlikely friendship. Ming is quiet, bookish, idealistic and exceptionally sheltered while Yan is worldly, jaded and tossed to and fro on the waves of impulse. The book is set in modern China, which creates many challenges and difficulties for the girls as they struggle to escape the classism and societal expectations that they face.

It is evident that the two girls are metaphors for old and new China. Both struggle in their newfound roles, one brazenly barging ahead in any way she can manage and the other quietly, almost with regret leaving the tradition and consistency of the old way of life. They take insight from each other, but neither is willing to concede that the other’s way of life is superior. In many cases the girls are both jealous and ashamed of each other.

Although this is a coming of age story, it seems to leave the reader unsettled, wondering if Ming ever truly arrived. Bythe end of the book her innocence has been shattered, but she clings so tightly to her childlike idealism one has to question whether or not she has completed her journey. Her earlier, almost unbelievable naivety has been erased, however, her roots provide such a grounded perspective for her that although she accepts, she cannot embrace the new ways she has learned.

February Flowers is a thought provoking read, and I give it a thumbs up.

This review sponsored by Mother Talk.

I always bake too much. Every recipe I have is doubled, and we are a family of four. So, I tend to make a lot of cards and, in this case, bread wrappers, and spread the lovin’ from my oven amongst friends.

Pumpkin Bread:

3 cups sugar
3 eggs
2 cups pumpkin
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 cup oil
3 cups flour
3tsps nutmeg
1tsp ginger
2 tsp cloves
5 tsp cinnamon

Add oil to sugar and blend, whip in eggs. Add sifted dry ingredients. Stir in pumpkin. Put in greased and floured pan (bundt pan works nicely). Bake at 350 degrees for 1 hour and 15 minutes. Cool ten minutes in pan and remove. Can be made as muffins, just reduce the baking time.

For the top, I made a simple powdered sugar and milk glaze and then I sprinkled sugared almonds on top.

Enjoy!

Today I took a good look at Jonas in line at Kindergarten. He is one of the shortest kids in his class. He can’t really help it; neither Chris or I are very tall, although we both have these massive, canoe-like feet that our pediatricians used to examine and make statements about like, “This child is going to be six feet tall someday!” It never happened. We both grew up to be Hobbits and now we are raising our Hobbit children.

Seeing how short he was also brought back a very sharp memory from grade school (one that remains so vivid probably because it is brought up at every family gathering I attend-and a few I don’t, I dare to guess). I was in second grade and we had height and weight day in gym class. It was a big deal to be the biggest or the smallest, the heaviest or the lightest. There was no stigma attached to any label, just the fact that you got to be the “est” of anything was very cool.

Now, the gym teachers were always very careful to give the old lecture on how these results were private and nobody’s business, which, to a room of seven year olds couldn’t have made the information spread faster. Within minutes of the examinations we all swapped numbers until we had everyone in a row, tallest to shortest, fattest to skinniest. Being little kids, we all really wanted to look bigger, so those labeled tallest were, in our eyes, pretty cool. I was no where near the tallest. In fact, I won the opposite award. I was not disappointed though, because I had trumped the others in another way.

I was very, very proud to announce to my parents at the dinner table that night, “I’m the shortest, but I weigh the most!”

So I’ve been feeling pretty crumby for the past few days. I assumed that it was just a tiny cold paired with some pretty wicked allergies and that it would pass. I was so wrong.

Now the entire family is sick with bronchitis, and our doctors are telling us that this is generally caused by allergies, which we knew I had in abundance, but apparently now the kids are allergic to Autumn as well. I was wondering if they had them, considering that Jonas is hacking away and Maggie has broken out in hives three times in a week. The dark circles ringing my kid’s eyes were a bit of a tip off as well.

So now, the kids are going to be on Zyrtec. I, on the other hand, presented with much more serious bronchitis (as in, “um, ma’am, I’m not getting breath sounds in your lower lobes”). They gave me a lovely breathing treatment (oh how I adore steroids, more, more albuterol please. I live to feel my heart race, my hands shake and my brain go haywire!) Then they sent me home with three prescriptions.

I’m digging the cough expectorant, which is supposed to make me drowsy. Anything suggesting drowsiness should be re-labeled “will hit you with enough tranquilizer to fell a fully grown rhinoceros” because people, I can promise you I will be sleeping after this. The other one was a simple antibiotic; those always upset my stomach, so now I’ll be uncomfortable, but I won’t care because I’ll be sleeping. The final medication is an inhaler full of more albuterol. I get to take this five times a day to open up my lungs. This means that I will now be jittery while sleeping and nauseous. If you are wondering if one can be both asleep and jittery at the same time, yes, OH YES, you can. You just get a lot of involuntary muscle spasms and wake up every two minutes.

The best thing about the entire cocktail has got to be the instructions for the inhaler that stated to avoid spraying the inhaler into your eyes. I know they were thinking of me when they wrote that.

May I please put in a request to feel better? This is nearly five months straight of completely crappy health, and even though I’ve already totally given up on 2007 as far as bringing anything good, I wouldn’t mind riding out the remainder of the year in peace.