When I weed, I love watching the spiders scurry away across the dirt as I rip up their homes by the roots.
I do NOT love watching a large garden spider crawl up my shoulder towards my face. When that happens, I scream like a girl and go a little nuts until the spider is gone. It's rather embarrassing, because it's only a little spider, and I have no problems killing spiders in the house, and I actually kind of like spiders when they're in nature, and sometimes if they're teeny tiny I'll let them crawl on my hand, but put a big adult spider on me, and I freak out. Blech.
Hm. Now I've admitted to a weakness that could bring a bit of comical relief to others who witness it. None of you better get any wise ideas...
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
A Day Away From The Phone
On Monday I forgot my phone at home, and do you want to know what happened?
Absolutely NOTHING.
I did not go crazy, my day was not ruined, the world did not explode.
I did feel kind of naked, like Gollum without the Ring, but otherwise I was ok. I don't know why I care that much anyway--I only had 2 text messages by the time I got home. :o)
Absolutely NOTHING.
I did not go crazy, my day was not ruined, the world did not explode.
I did feel kind of naked, like Gollum without the Ring, but otherwise I was ok. I don't know why I care that much anyway--I only had 2 text messages by the time I got home. :o)
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Left-Foot Driving
Sometimes I get bored just driving with my right foot (I drive an automatic), especially while making the California-Utah drive. To switch things up, I like to give my right foot a rest and let my left foot take control of the gas and brake pedals.
Have you ever tried driving with your left foot? It's really interesting and also a bit awkward, as you have to kind of twist your body to be able to reach the pedals properly. After so many hours in the car, however, it's not always such a bad thing to change positions.
The first time I tried driving left-footed was while I was on a freeway, so it wasn't hard--I just had to maintain a constant speed. Driving in the city is more difficult, and my initial attempts resulted in lots of lurching and hard stops. I've gotten better now, so that my passengers (if I ever had any) might not even be able to tell the difference between my left-footed and right-footed driving.
The left-foot technique has also come in useful for more than just long road trips--it's especially great if you need to do up your shoes or put your socks on while you're driving: you don't have to rush to get your right shoe on before the light turns green, because you can just use your left foot for driving. Easy!
Has anyone else ever tried driving left-footed? I sometimes wonder if it's only me...
Have you ever tried driving with your left foot? It's really interesting and also a bit awkward, as you have to kind of twist your body to be able to reach the pedals properly. After so many hours in the car, however, it's not always such a bad thing to change positions.
The first time I tried driving left-footed was while I was on a freeway, so it wasn't hard--I just had to maintain a constant speed. Driving in the city is more difficult, and my initial attempts resulted in lots of lurching and hard stops. I've gotten better now, so that my passengers (if I ever had any) might not even be able to tell the difference between my left-footed and right-footed driving.
The left-foot technique has also come in useful for more than just long road trips--it's especially great if you need to do up your shoes or put your socks on while you're driving: you don't have to rush to get your right shoe on before the light turns green, because you can just use your left foot for driving. Easy!
Has anyone else ever tried driving left-footed? I sometimes wonder if it's only me...
Monday, June 11, 2012
The Best Thing Since Sliced Bread
It's a well known phrase: "(insert thing here) is the best thing since sliced bread!" But the other day, that phrase got me to thinking, how great is sliced bread? Is it really the greatest thing ever?
I bet there were some people who didn't even like sliced bread when it first came out, I thought. Then I wondered why someone wouldn't like sliced bread. It seems like such an obviously excellent and time-saving invention.
Imagine, however, if you were someone who ate home-baked bread. You're used to cutting your own slices, and you can cut a thicker or thinner slice as you prefer. If you want a big hunk of bread to take with you, you can cut a big hunk of bread. If you want thinner slices for toast, you can make the slices thinner. It's a matter of control, being able to slice one's own bread, and I could see how some people would not want to give up that control.
I envision a man, a rough burly farmer, sitting bent over the kitchen table, a knife in one hand and a fork in the other, staring at a loaf of bread. "They can't tell me how to slice my bread!"
I also wonder about the impact sliced bread has had on our society, and particularly on the way we use bread. Today, I would argue that most people in the US use bread primarily for making sandwiches. We buy bread, we make sandwiches. We make toast too, I suppose. Sandwiches and toast. But anyone who bakes their own bread knows there's so much more you can do with bread than make sandwiches. I'm not sure what those things are (because I don't make my own bread), but I wonder if the advent of sliced bread has also brought about an advent of fewer uses for bread: we're all stuck so much in the mindset that bread = sliced bread, and that is now the norm.
I happen to love bread, but I have found I don't often like sliced bread, the stuff you can buy at the store. I like bread that I can enjoy whether I'm having it plain or with butter or as a sandwich. I like bread you have to cut yourself. I wouldn't say I'm not grateful for sliced bread though; it's good for what it's good for. And the well-known phrase is certainly better than "the best thing since sliced pasteurized processed cheese food sticks", so I'll go with it.
I bet there were some people who didn't even like sliced bread when it first came out, I thought. Then I wondered why someone wouldn't like sliced bread. It seems like such an obviously excellent and time-saving invention.
Imagine, however, if you were someone who ate home-baked bread. You're used to cutting your own slices, and you can cut a thicker or thinner slice as you prefer. If you want a big hunk of bread to take with you, you can cut a big hunk of bread. If you want thinner slices for toast, you can make the slices thinner. It's a matter of control, being able to slice one's own bread, and I could see how some people would not want to give up that control.
I envision a man, a rough burly farmer, sitting bent over the kitchen table, a knife in one hand and a fork in the other, staring at a loaf of bread. "They can't tell me how to slice my bread!"
I also wonder about the impact sliced bread has had on our society, and particularly on the way we use bread. Today, I would argue that most people in the US use bread primarily for making sandwiches. We buy bread, we make sandwiches. We make toast too, I suppose. Sandwiches and toast. But anyone who bakes their own bread knows there's so much more you can do with bread than make sandwiches. I'm not sure what those things are (because I don't make my own bread), but I wonder if the advent of sliced bread has also brought about an advent of fewer uses for bread: we're all stuck so much in the mindset that bread = sliced bread, and that is now the norm.
I happen to love bread, but I have found I don't often like sliced bread, the stuff you can buy at the store. I like bread that I can enjoy whether I'm having it plain or with butter or as a sandwich. I like bread you have to cut yourself. I wouldn't say I'm not grateful for sliced bread though; it's good for what it's good for. And the well-known phrase is certainly better than "the best thing since sliced pasteurized processed cheese food sticks", so I'll go with it.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
"That Sounded Terrible. Thanks For Playing."
A couple weeks ago I got a cold, so I ended up missing some work and all that*. By Sunday I was doing a little better, but I decided it would be best if I only went to church for Sacrament meeting, to play the organ.
That was a bad idea.
Here is a tip from me to my future self: if you are ever the organist and are ill on Sunday, find a sub and skip church altogether.
My organ playing was abysmal. My brain was all jumpy, my eyes were jittery, my hands were shaking, and my feet kept arguing with my left hand about whose turn it was to play.
Blah.
As a classically-trained musician (can I say that without sounding pompous? hm), I know there are moments when I am aware of how terribly I messed up on the organ, but then it turns out most people had no idea I messed up at all.
This was not one of those moments.
How do I know? Because over half a dozen people came up to me afterwards and thanked me for playing the organ**. Some of them even placed their hand on my shoulder to show me how sincere they were. Note that these people were not complimenting me on playing the organ, they were thanking me for playing the organ. What that really translates to is, "Boy, it sounds like playing the organ is really hard. I'm glad you have to do it instead of me. Thanks."
Normally, no one thanks me or compliments me on my organ playing. Ok, maybe one person might compliment me--usually a member of the bishopric. But anyway, to have that many people thank me... I really must have messed up big time. The good news is I can't really remember any of it, because my brain wasn't firing on all cylinders.
The moral here is: if you are sick, stay in bed and let someone else play the organ!
*I also ended up watching the entire first season of Star Trek (the original series) and now I think I would like to marry Spock, except that he is a fictional character and doesn't really exist, so too bad for me. ;o)
**My ward only has about 40-50 people attending each Sunday, so that's almost 20% of the congregation.
Saturday, May 26, 2012
A Child's Drawing
Prince Tuffett gave me this beautiful drawing the last time I saw him:
"It's of you," he said.
"Oh!" I said. "Why am I frowning?"
"Because you're sad."
"Why am I sad?"
"Because you miss me."
Awwwwwww. :o)
"It's true," I said. "I do miss you."
I'm not sure what's going on with my hair in that picture, but it sure made me smile.
"It's of you," he said.
"Oh!" I said. "Why am I frowning?"
"Because you're sad."
"Why am I sad?"
"Because you miss me."
Awwwwwww. :o)
"It's true," I said. "I do miss you."
I'm not sure what's going on with my hair in that picture, but it sure made me smile.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Pottermore House Sorting
Now that I have all this free time (*cough* *cough*) because the semester is over, I did something I've wanted to do for a long time: signed up for Pottermore. If you are a Harry Potter fan and have never heard of Pottermore, for shame. Go sign up for it right now.
As you may or may not know, I am a Ravenclaw. I have always been a Ravenclaw; I will always be a Ravenclaw. I have prided myself on this fact since first reading the Harry Potter books over ten years ago. My multiple online sorting quiz attempts all place me in Ravenclaw (but that's sometimes not saying much, as you can often tell what the "right" answer is for your desired house), and I was known in one online RPG* as Betty the Ravenclaw.
Maybe you can guess where this is going. Here's how my Pottermore experience has gone so far:
Day 1:
I signed up for Pottermore. I did everything as best I could, clicked all around, figured out what was going on, and gave honest answers to all the questions. My wand was silver lime and dragon heartstring, 12-and-something inches long. I was so excited to be sorted, and the sorting questions were really interesting as I went through them. At last the results loaded and I saw...
ARGH! Slytherin!
Just to set the record straight, there's nothing wrong with Slytherin. Slytherin would be my second choice if I were picking each house in order, so it's not a bad thing that I was put in Slytherin. It's just that I'm a Ravenclaw. Surely there must be a mistake. I logged off of Pottermore and wept into my pillow. (Ok, I didn't really weep... it was more like sniffling.) ;o)
Day 2:
I signed up for Pottermore again**. I did mostly the same things I'd done the day before, but I changed my answers a little. My wand was maple with a phoenix feather core, 10-and-something inches (way too small). The sorting questions were different, which was fun. After answering all the questions I got...
Gryffindor! That's even worse than Slytherin! Blah!
I did a Google search and found a blog that expanded my vision of the houses, and particularly of Ravenclaw. See here.
Day 3:
All right, I thought. I am armed with knowledge. I know what to do!
I signed up for Pottermore again and answered questions honestly, but chose the answers that would skew more towards Ravenclaw. This may sound dishonest, but I don't think it is. I am usually of many opinions on any given subject, so my preferences can change, depending on the day or the setting or whatever. My wand was sycamore and dragon heartstring, 12-and-something inches. I got to the sorting. I crossed my fingers. And...
Ravenclaw! Hurray! Third time's a charm!
...
Ironically, I kind of think the fact that I re-registered until I got the house I wanted means I should really be in Slytherin after all.
But I'd rather be in Ravenclaw.
Hmm.
Which house are you?
*I joined an online academy where I actually did homework assignments for herbology, potions, flying lessons, DADA, etc. It was pretty fun, but it ultimately took up too much time, so I quit after a few months. Still, if you ever hear about the quidditch team called the California Pipers, I created that.
**Pottermore requires a name, birth date, and email address. Luckily, I have plenty of names and email addresses to choose from; I have fewer birthdays.
As you may or may not know, I am a Ravenclaw. I have always been a Ravenclaw; I will always be a Ravenclaw. I have prided myself on this fact since first reading the Harry Potter books over ten years ago. My multiple online sorting quiz attempts all place me in Ravenclaw (but that's sometimes not saying much, as you can often tell what the "right" answer is for your desired house), and I was known in one online RPG* as Betty the Ravenclaw.
Maybe you can guess where this is going. Here's how my Pottermore experience has gone so far:
Day 1:
I signed up for Pottermore. I did everything as best I could, clicked all around, figured out what was going on, and gave honest answers to all the questions. My wand was silver lime and dragon heartstring, 12-and-something inches long. I was so excited to be sorted, and the sorting questions were really interesting as I went through them. At last the results loaded and I saw...
ARGH! Slytherin!
Just to set the record straight, there's nothing wrong with Slytherin. Slytherin would be my second choice if I were picking each house in order, so it's not a bad thing that I was put in Slytherin. It's just that I'm a Ravenclaw. Surely there must be a mistake. I logged off of Pottermore and wept into my pillow. (Ok, I didn't really weep... it was more like sniffling.) ;o)
Day 2:
I signed up for Pottermore again**. I did mostly the same things I'd done the day before, but I changed my answers a little. My wand was maple with a phoenix feather core, 10-and-something inches (way too small). The sorting questions were different, which was fun. After answering all the questions I got...
Gryffindor! That's even worse than Slytherin! Blah!
I did a Google search and found a blog that expanded my vision of the houses, and particularly of Ravenclaw. See here.
Day 3:
All right, I thought. I am armed with knowledge. I know what to do!
I signed up for Pottermore again and answered questions honestly, but chose the answers that would skew more towards Ravenclaw. This may sound dishonest, but I don't think it is. I am usually of many opinions on any given subject, so my preferences can change, depending on the day or the setting or whatever. My wand was sycamore and dragon heartstring, 12-and-something inches. I got to the sorting. I crossed my fingers. And...
Ravenclaw! Hurray! Third time's a charm!
...
Ironically, I kind of think the fact that I re-registered until I got the house I wanted means I should really be in Slytherin after all.
But I'd rather be in Ravenclaw.
Hmm.
Which house are you?
*I joined an online academy where I actually did homework assignments for herbology, potions, flying lessons, DADA, etc. It was pretty fun, but it ultimately took up too much time, so I quit after a few months. Still, if you ever hear about the quidditch team called the California Pipers, I created that.
**Pottermore requires a name, birth date, and email address. Luckily, I have plenty of names and email addresses to choose from; I have fewer birthdays.
Friday, April 6, 2012
Brain Versus Stomach
Anya woke me up at 6:30 this morning to be fed. I usually go back to
bed after I feed her, but today I had this conversation with myself
instead:
Stomach: Mom and Dad sent me an Easter package with lots of chocolate inside. I could have a tasty treat right now. There's a caramel egg in there...
Brain: No. I'm going back to bed, and there's no eating until I wake up. You know that, Stomach. I'm on a diet.
Stomach: Diet schmiet. Think of that chocolate and caramel...
Brain: Chocolate is not breakfast.
Stomach: You're no fun. It used to be breakfast--
Brain: But it's not anymore. No chocolate for breakfast. Besides, it'll make you hurt after you eat it. You never feel good when you have chocolate for breakfast.
Stomach: That's a risk I'm willing to take. Smooth milk chocolate and ooey gooey caramel...
Brain: No! I'm going back to bed!
Stomach: There's a chocolate-covered Peep too. You've never tried those. Could be good. Think of all that chocolate...
Brain: Argh!
Can you guess who won?
When I finally woke up an hour-and-a-half later, I had a stomachache, just like my brain said I would. Go figure. It tasted really good though. Maybe I'll have something healthy for lunch.
:o)
Stomach: Mom and Dad sent me an Easter package with lots of chocolate inside. I could have a tasty treat right now. There's a caramel egg in there...
Brain: No. I'm going back to bed, and there's no eating until I wake up. You know that, Stomach. I'm on a diet.
Stomach: Diet schmiet. Think of that chocolate and caramel...
Brain: Chocolate is not breakfast.
Stomach: You're no fun. It used to be breakfast--
Brain: But it's not anymore. No chocolate for breakfast. Besides, it'll make you hurt after you eat it. You never feel good when you have chocolate for breakfast.
Stomach: That's a risk I'm willing to take. Smooth milk chocolate and ooey gooey caramel...
Brain: No! I'm going back to bed!
Stomach: There's a chocolate-covered Peep too. You've never tried those. Could be good. Think of all that chocolate...
Brain: Argh!
Can you guess who won?
When I finally woke up an hour-and-a-half later, I had a stomachache, just like my brain said I would. Go figure. It tasted really good though. Maybe I'll have something healthy for lunch.
:o)
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