Crush

Weekday mornings around my house typically go like this: 

Dustin is up really really early (like 4, 5 or 6 a.m., depending on the day) and I am dead-to-the-world asleep.  He wakes Ella up at 7 a.m.  He helps her get ready in whatever form she needs help (which isn't much).  He comes in our room at about 7:30 and says to me, "Tag, you're it," and kisses me goodbye.  I tell him to drive safe and he leaves for work (and starts my car for me on his way out, bless him).  Then I get up and take Ella to school at 7:45.  It's a pretty good arrangement for me as waking kids up in the morning low on my list of favorite activities.  (so is getting into a cold car on an Idaho winter morning...)

Lately, rather than what he normally does at work, Dustin has been doing surveying.  He's been working with a guy named Jeff and they've been working close to where we live.  So, instead of the 30 mile commute in the mornings, Jeff has been picking Dustin up at our house.  This translates into him not having to leave at 7:30, but leaving when Jeff comes to get him, anywhere between 8:10 and 8:40 a.m.  Which also translates into Dustin leaving me asleep (or me laying in bed listening to the household while I'm sort-of awake) and taking Ella to school.  It's been wonderful.  I feel like I'm on vacation if I don't have to leave my house in this snowy, cold weather to take my little Ella to school.  And, Dustin likes to take Ella to school as he rarely gets to.  And Ella loves it too because it's novel and special for her daddy to drive her to school.  So, I'm pretty much saying we're all in love with this little temporary arrangement. 

On Monday, after taking Ella to school, Dustin asked me if I would get up and come and snuggle with him on the couch while he waited for Jeff to get here.  I agreed.  I came out and just laid my head on his shoulder for over a half an hour while he rubbed my feet.  It was so great.

Jeff arrived.  Dustin got up, kissed Rohan, Mac and I goodbye, and headed out the door with all his cold-weather paraphernalia in his arms, boots, bibs, coat, and hat, not to mention his lunch and a big jug of water (for hydration in the sub-zero weather we've been blessed with!). 

As I watched him walk out of our house, watched him move with his arms full, preparing to go to yet another day of work in the bitter cold , watched him put all his gear into the truck, followed by his lunch and then sit himself down and shut the door, I felt like a high-school girl.  As I sat there watching him trudge off to his frigid work-day, I said out loud to myself, "I have a crush on Dustin!", which made me giggle a little bit, but mostly I just sighed with contentment.  How cool is that that my husband of eleven and a half years can still make my heart skip beats and feel all fluttery?  I love that man of mine.  Even when he, upon my mentioning that he could use a haircut, informs me that he's going to let his hair grow until spring... ALL his hair (meaning his already long beard too)... I still love him even if I roll my eyes a little bit.   

As I was writing this post in my head I kept thinking of that David Archuleta song, "Crush".  I had to look up the lyrics...


Why do I keep running from the truth
All I ever think about is you
You got me hypnotized
So mesmerized
And I've just got to know

Do you ever think
When you're all alone
All that we could be?
Where this thing could go?
Am I crazy or falling in love?
Is it really just another crush?
Do you catch a breath
When I look at you?
Are you holding back
Like the way I do?
'Cause I'm trying, trying to walk away
But I know this crush ain't going away.


While those lyrics, in their entirety, don't necessarily apply to my current circumstances, they were entirely applicable back in 1997.  And I never dreamed just how far "this thing could go" between he and I.  It gets better every day, every year and I'm sure, every decade. 

Clancy + Dustin = TRUE L♥VE

What's Been Happening...

.... around Clancy's house? 


Well, I'm not redecorating!  And you know what the funny thing is about that statement?  I'd have to have already decorated to be "re"decorating!  I've never really done the first phase.  Just what was here when I moved into my house... the wall colors, the curtains (both of which I hate now!), and added my own bits here and there.  Someday....


So, as I mentioned yesterday, I'm going to try to blog more.  Try to "get my groove on" again.  We'll see.  It might just be ramblings and randomness, but, wait, isn't that what my blog has always been?  :-)  For now I'll start with what I've been up to.



For the months of November and December I spent a fair amount of time dipping pretzels.  I guess I should say the months of September, October, November and December.  It's been four months of dipping, really?  Well, I guess that takes up some time.  I've been less inclined to grumble about the whole dipping thing this time around.  I don't know why, but somehow I enjoyed it more than I usually do.  I was more cheerful about it overall and that, my friends, is always a good thing. 

Dipping ended, quite literally, on Christmas Eve.  I had a biggish order come in on the 23rd, and since it was for a very good friend of mine, I did it.  I don't normally do things that close to Christmas, but this was an exception.


I have grand plans every year of making "neighbor gifts" for my friends and neighbors.  More like "neighbor treats", I suppose.  I like to make a plate of yummies and bring them around to those I love.  Most years I end up scrambling around, stressed out and crazy trying to get it done.  This year was going to be the exception!  I had the best intentions of making the treats on the 23rd and then delivering them in the morning on the 24th.  But...between the last minute pretzel orders and trying to sew my kids pajamas for Christmas, I ended up not making any plates to deliver.  There were a lucky few people who, if they caught me at home when they dropped by their own goody plates, got a plate of pretzels, caramel corn and caramel pecan bars that I had on hand from my last minute order!  So, to all those who've gotten a treat plate from me before and did not this year, please forgive me.  It was a very conscious decision to let that one go this year and I even allowed myself to shed all guilt surrounding the issue.  And I'm happy about it.  And I still love all of you who didn't see me with a plate of treats.  (The guilt was eased knowing that most of you, like me, had an abundance of treats to tempt you during the holidays and mine would likely not be missed)

There's always next year.

So, I mentioned that I decided to sew my children PJ's this year.  I always get my kids jammies to open on Christmas Eve.  Lots of people do this tradition.  As a child, my mother always sewed our Christmas Eve pajamas and this year I decided that I would too.  I started in plenty of time.  I suppose plenty is a relative term... it was plenty of time for me, the great procrastinator.  It was a good week and a half before Christmas and THAT is a LOT of time for me!  I could only work on them at night after my kids were in bed because my sewing machine is out in the open of our living room/dining room area and I wanted them to be surprised about the fabric they were getting, if not the fact that they were getting homemade pajamas.

Let's just say that what started out as me having lots of time to sew one of the simplest things there is to sew, ended up being one of the more nightmarish projects of my illustrious sewing career.  I was up sewing until 3am on the 22nd and until 2am on the 23rd (and more nights than that, but those were the winners for lateness).  I'll just say that if you're ever buying flannel to sew on, plan on a LOT of shrinkage... so much that you might have to change the whole layout of the pattern for cutting which might cause you to need more fabric, which the store just might run out of a mere two days after you bought it... which might cause you to have to buy a whole different fabric, which by now you realize you'll need extra fabric for shrinkage, but how much extra might be out of your realm of comprehension and you'll STILL come up short which, by this time, it might be December 23rd at 11:00 at night and you can't get more fabric because the store is closed and the darned PJ's need to be FINISHED, WRAPPED and UNDER the tree by the next evening (but you can't sew when your kids are awake).  *big gasp of air*  So, you might just have to spend an extra TWO hours adjusting the pattern to make the amount of the !*$#@$ shrunken fabric work for what you've got, which will make you VERY frustrated indeed.  Not to mention a myriad of other strange problems you might encounter with the other TWO pajamas you're making. (yes, that story was only about Ella's PJ's... Mac's and Rohan's had their own set of "issues" that were very special and cry-worthy.)

So, yeah.  I had a wonderful, nostalgic time sewing PJ's for my kids. (are you sensing the sarcasm?  it's hard to pass on through a blog)  But the important part is that I made it work, got it done and they LOVE them!  Rohan is always so sad if his "monster" jammies are dirty and he can't wear them.  And, actually that statement is true for Ella and Mac as well (aside from the "monster" part!).

So, the weeks before Christmas I was exceptionally busy.  I can't remember what I was doing aside from dipping and homeschooling... oh, and trying to get all my "shopping" done.  I was actually fairly well prepared in that arena this year.  I was almost done shopping a good week before Christmas, which is UNHEARD of for me!  I was proud of myself for that one.  I even got most of the presents wrapped about two weeks (maybe a week and a half!) before Christmas.  Usually our tree is barren of presents until about the 23rd or sometimes the 24th.  Go me!

I had been up too late for too many nights and pushing myself with the sewing and the dipping and the homeschooling and the whatever-elseing and by the time Christmas Eve rolled around I was exhausted.  Regardless, we had a nice quiet Christmas Eve.  We went over to my mom's house.  I made Thai Noodle Soup, my mom made potato soup and we had little baguettes of bread.  It was a simple dinner followed by hot chocolate, shortbread and our tradition of pulling out my mom's nativity set.  Each piece is wrapped in cloth and we take turns pulling them out and telling the story each person played in the birth of Jesus Christ.  We did this same thing in my growing up years and it's special for me to have my kids experience it too.  Especially because it takes the focus off of the commercialism that is ready and waiting to happen the next morning and puts the focus, quietly, simply and sweetly back on the birth of Jesus Christ and the gift that he was and is to the world.  It was tender and it completely suited my exhausted but content state of mind and body.

An observation that we make every Christmas Eve is the fact that the children start telling the PARENTS it's time to go home.  We usually have to pull teeth to get our children to leave my mom's house.  They never want to go.  But Christmas Eve, they were putting their shoes on and telling Dustin and I that it was time to go home.  And we, of course, obliged them.  Home we went! 

Upon arrival, all three of them ran in to brush their teeth as quickly as they could.  (again, a once a year occurrence.)  They forgot, in their haste to reach their beds, to open one special present (homemade with much love and sacrifice!).  I reminded them and they came and ripped open their special Christmas Eve presents.  They oooohed and ahhhed appropriately and I felt very good about my efforts and all the metaphorical hair I lost during the sewing ordeal.  (I never ACTUALLY pulled my hair out in frustration, but I wanted to.  A lot.)

Mac loved his dartboard jammies, Ella loved her big dots (that was NOT my first choice in fabrics, but by the time I had to buy replacement fabric, it was slim pickins!), and, strangely, Rohan threw a fit about his monster jammies.  He didn't like them and he didn't want to put them on.  After a little coaxing, he finally did and then he was upset (as was I) because the elastic was too big and the pants were falling off.  I guess I shouldn't have been surprised.  I measured both of the boys' waistlines while they were asleep.  It worked on Mac, but not my skinny little Rohan. 

Never fear!  I have a seam ripper and my sewing machine was still out.  So, in about 5 minutes I had the seam opened, elastic adjusted and sewn in place, the seam sewn shut again and a happy little boy.  Suddenly his monster jammies were cool (his fabric was my favorite by far!) and he ran off to go to bed!

We tucked in our little munchkins and got to work doing the things parents do on Christmas Eve after their children are nestled.... which, in this case, involved watching the new Harry Potter.  ☺  Really we were worried that the kids would be awake for a while and so we sat down for a bit and killed time with the DVD player.  It only took about 15 minutes before the three little ones had visions of sugarplums dancing in their heads and we got to work.

And, amazingly enough, I was in bed before midnight.  That's NEVER happened on Christmas Eve.

I woke in the morning to the sound of the shower.  Dustin had been awake for a long time and decided to take a shower hoping that the kids wouldn't wake up while he was in there.  Of course, that slight shift in the noises of the house must have woken the kids because within minutes they were upstairs surrounding my groggy-I-wish-I-could-sleep-more self.  We made them wait, as parents do, in our room while I went and turned the tree lights on.  We made them brush their hair... well, Ella and I did anyway... and we gathered and said a prayer and talked for a minute about the why of it all- Jesus Christ's birth.  It was neat.

Rohan, Mac and Ella waiting to go see if Santa did, indeed, come!

Then, the wonderful madness that is Christmas morning ensued.  It was very fun.  We had a wonderful, magical, toy-filled time and I felt gratitude for my little growing family and the amazing people I'm blessed to have in my home.  And here are a few little pics for the picture hungry!

 Dustin was very irritated with the people who package children's toys.  They make them iron-clad stuck in those packages!!! :)  Isn't he cute?  It became a personal vendetta for him to get this toy opened completely before we could proceed with unwrapping presents!  I ♥ Dustin.

Those cute little monkeys in their new jammies.  

 Don't you love Mac's face?  It's so Christmas morning!  Ella is so sweet.  

Rohan LOVED his remote control car.  In fact he still loves it and he's actually a really good little RC driver!  (And look at his extra cute PJ's!  The child will NOT wear a shirt to bed.  Somehow he's decided that's the way it is and once he's decided, he's not easily swayed.  So, he is shirtless.  Saved me having to sew a top, so I won't complain!  ☺)

At Dustin's company work party we had a white elephant gift exchange.  We ended up with these goofy-yet-cute sock monkey slippers.  We weren't sure what we'd do with them, so we wrapped them and gave them to Mac.  He thought they were the coolest and Rohan and Ella were quite jealous.  They both inquired why THEY didn't get sock monkey slippers.  Anyone know where to buy these silly things?

We acquired a gigantic box Legos from a friend of mine.  It's HUGE.  My kids (and I!) love Legos more than any toy and were SO excited to see this massive collection unveiled with the tearing of the wrapping paper!

 I even made Dustin take a few pictures of me, since last year there was not a single shot of the mother of the family in the family archives.  So, I remedied that this year.  See?  Don't I look all sorts of Christmas-morningy?

We went to my mom's house later in the day... about 4:00 and we ate snacky food and opened a few more presents.  It was relaxing and wonderful to have nothing to do but be together.   

And I will end my Christmas Chronicle at this point because I am going to bed now.  I'll tell more later.  (It's really not as late as the time stamp shows... I'm publishing this later so it will be "tomorrow" when it posts, because it makes me feel better.  It's really only 10:30pm and I am treating myself to my bed and my pillow and some rest!  Just FYI, if ever the time stamp says 12:08am, it was a scheduled post.  I always set posts that I want to publish later to come at 12:08am.  Don't ask me why it's 12:08am... just one of those quirks.☺)

Tuesday Special

Here I sit, fresh out of the shower at 3:06 on a Tuesday afternoon. This particular Tuesday is a special Tuesday, though. Why is it special? No, not because I finally showered at 2:40 pm. No, not because I am dressed in real clothes for the first time since Sunday...

It's my honey-pie's birthday!

Happy Birthday, Dustin, my love!!!

This man 'o' mine rocks my world. His ever-present, but varied in formation, facial hair is scruffy and rough, and I love it. He knows I love his ruggedness. And ruggedness is not just limited to his ruggedly-handsome looks.

He dresses rugged... no matter how I try to sharpen his style, he is who he is. I've stopped trying and just dress him as ruggedly-sharp as I can! (I do all his clothes shopping, so I can do this, you know.)

His walk is rugged. He tromps through this world with his heavy boots. Many who know him can identify him simply by hearing his footsteps.

His attitude is rugged. He bucks authority like a bull in a rodeo. He says what he thinks, often with a consequences-be-damned attitude.

And speaking of being damned... his language is often rugged.

But... like a rugged mountain peak, he too is not immune to the powers of erosion. The passing of time, and being wedded to someone not quite so rugged, has softened some of his rougher points. His language is softer, his impatience less sharp.

And, like any rugged mountain, he has his spots of softness as well... his moss-covered north side, if you will. He has always been, since I met him, tender and gentle with me, his wife. He adores me, and I him. He is as sweet a dad as I've ever seen with his beautiful children. Sometimes that rugged, rough side comes out in his father-role, but when it's tucked away, he's soft and tender with his little ones. He is friendly to others and makes people feel good being around him. He loves to serve and help people. (but not if his wife volunteers him for it without prior consultation!) Soft as a tree's mossy north face.

Happy Birthday to my mate, my partner in life, my love, my husband.

I love you, my rugged and soft man!

Ole!!

Elizabeth Gilbert wrote one of my favorite books ever... Eat, Pray, Love. If you have time, watch this astounding talk she gave. Inspiring, insightful and motivating, her words yank me out of my fear-place and into a place of love regarding what I want to do with my life. Ole'! https://www.ted.com/talks/elizabeth_gilbert_your_elusive_creative_genius?language=en&trigger=15s

Weekend

I thought of two things that I wanted to blog about for today, but now that I'm sitting here ready to blog, I can't think of them. I used to write them down because I always had something to say and I'd forget with so many ideas rolling around in my head. I'm not sure what's happened to me. It's like they pulled the plug on my blogging brain. So, when I thought of these two things earlier, I repeated them several times to myself so I'd remember and then I forgot anyway.

One of them I actually sort of remember but it just doesn't make sense to me now. I can't remember why I thought it would be interesting to blog about it. It just seems, well, kinda dumb.

So, I'll just tell you instead about my weekend, mmmkay?

My weekend rocked. I don't remember Friday very well. Oh wait... it's coming back to me now. Dustin was in a black mood and the weather matched him perfectly. (That part of the weekend didn't rock so much.) We had a severe thunderstorm. Seriously, I heard thunder non-stop for about 15 minutes. Branches were down in the street, leaves littered the ground... craziness. That kind of weather just doesn't happen much where I live.

So, after Dustin went out and watched the lightening show, he came in and went to bed. You say.. "Big deal? So what if your husband went to bed." It was freakin' 7:30pm! My husband went to bed at 7:30 on a Friday night! Can you believe that!? I couldn't.

While he slumbered, I put the kids to bed and then read on blogs and in my book (1400+ pages!). It was a fairly weird Friday night.

BUT! Then came Saturday. We got ourselves packed and took our kids to my mom and dad's. Then we ventured up to a mountain getaway and hiked around... I did a little trail-running, which ROCKS, by the way! (no pun intended) And then we went and checked in to our little room we were staying at. It was a riverfront room of a slightly dumpy, yet still charming in a funkified sort of way, motel. Our room had no insulation and it was a far cry from a warm evening, but we cranked our little space heaters and worked the adventure factor. We walked out onto the little dock that was in front our room and watched fish roll in the river. It was very picturesque.

6:00 rolled around and we headed to the little Playhouse where a "Dinner Theater" awaited our enjoyment. It was fairly good, mass-quantity-type food, and interesting company. I learned that at a dumpy-ish motel, you should keep quiet about the amenities of your room. Our dinner companions were talking about how hard their beds were and, not wanting to be left out of the conversation, I piped up with, "OH NO! Your beds are hard? That's crummy! I didn't ever sit on our bed, but when we sat on our couch we both sunk to the middle!" I demonstrated by leaning my body at an angle, crashing into Dustin.

Two of them narrowed their eyes at me and said, incredulously, "You have a couch!??"

"Oh... well, um, yeah... we have a couch. But it's not very comfortable!!!" I was backpedaling at this point.

Then the conversation went on for a few more minutes and, for reasons I can't recall, I said something about how the fireplace in our room is built so strange.

More eyes narrow, and more incredulity ... "YOU HAVE A FIREPLACE!!!!???"

"Ummm, yep. We have a fireplace." I was feeling like our room was very luxurious indeed and backpedaling seemed futile. "Maybe I should just not say anything else about our room tonight."

One lady, who was particularly huffy about her crappy room, said in all seriousness, "Yeah, maybe you shouldn't."

Ummm..... awkward.

So, after shrugging off the awkward jacket that had wrapped our conversation, we had a lovely little dinner and then watched a very silly show entitled, "Les-s Miserables". It was gut-busting funny. I laughed my head off and enjoyed myself very much. During the intermission, the cast brought us and several other couples onto the stage because it was our anniversary. Eleven years for us. That doesn't seem like that long, but there was only one other couple, at 15 years, who had been married longer than us! I was shocked! There were about eight couples on the stage and we were married almost the longest! Several of them were older couples too! The oldest couple of all had been married one year! That was the shortest time! It was weird. Made me feel old.

So, back to our room we went. When we got there I thought I'd test the bed and see if ours was as terribly hard as the others described. I laid down and Dustin asked from the other room, "So, how is it?"

I giggled and, thinking of our irritated dinner companions, said, "It's acutally really comfy... not hard at all!" We clearly came out on top in the room competition.

Dustin proceed to build a fire in our weird fireplace. It all looks normal, but the "fire area" of the fireplace was several inches lower than the hearth, preventing the wood from getting enough oxygen, making the fire go out repeatedly. The mountain-man side of my husband was very affronted at this and so he threw all the logs we bought on the dang fire, building it higher up where the airflow was better. It worked. It was also smokey.

Here's some Clancy-Trivia for you. Clancy LOATHES smelling like smoke... abhors it!... cannot abide it!!! (unless, of course, Clancy's CAMPING where there is supposed to be smoke.) So, Clancy got a little grumpy about the smokey situation in the room. Her head ached from it and her eyes burned. She was feeling very disgruntled, indeed.

Enough third person. I was a grumpy-butt for a bit and then I decided that this was a lovely adventure and I must chill out! Literally! We opened the front door and the back window and let in a little arctic air! (Seriously by about 10pm, Dustin, after getting something out of the car, reported that the weather was trying to snow. Awesome. Snow is June is my favorite!) So, we went to bed with the window open, blowing cold, smoke-free air on my face. Not to worry though. I sleep next to a man that is a walking furnace. So I was snug and cozy and much less grumpy because the chilly air cleared my sinuses of the abhorance of smokiness.

Then, we woke in the morning to whiteness out of the window. It didn't snow a lot, but snow, it did. That cut out any plans we had of more hiking, which was fine.

We did end up with a couch and a fireplace and a comfy bed in our room, but I didn't discover what was truly negative about our room until it came time for a shower. When I went into the bathroom thinking luxuriant showery thoughts, I turned on the hot water and was surprised to discover it would only turn about a quarter of an inch. That massive quarter-inch turn brought forth a fountain of hot water! No, actually it didn't at all. In reality, the flow of hot water was a mere trickle. I busted up laughing! Dustin came in and said, "Well, I guess you're taking a tub!" I then tried the cold, which was, of course, a gush, a wellspring, a super-flow of freezingness. Perfect!!! I reduced the cold so the ratio was the right temperature for a shower and the trickle trickled slightly more so than the hot did all alone.

Hmmmm..... I wondered what the shower would be like because at that rate, the tub would take 30-45 minutes to achieve a depth tolerable for a bath. I went for it! I turned on the shower and the water was so slow in coming that I could literally see the shower head fill up with water before it finally came out of the holes. BUT, it did the job. It created a slow flow of water that, with the help of my fingers, actually could get the shampoo out of my hair. And it was warm. And I didn't have to wait for 45 minutes.

Good times... good times.

I don't think I've taken a picture on my camera since February. That's the last pics I uploaded onto my computer. Isn't that weird? I'm feast or famine in the picture department. Oh well. I did bring my camera and we even snapped a few shots. So, enjoy, because I, apparently am in famine mode and this might be all you get for a while!

Our cute little room. Apparently the other people's rooms were just one room. Lucky us, we had a separate "living room" complete with a table and chairs.

The veiw from our room... it was most tranquil.

Dust snapped a little photo of me. I think I look rather freaky-skullish, but whatev... I don't post many pics of myself on here, so I decided to go with the Skeletor look...

And a little self-timer smoochy-smoochy for the Captain's Log, Stardate 2009.06.06....

Manic Monday: Warm

Warm. My weekend was warm. I was profoundly intoxicated by love's heady bouquet. That's the thing about having your husband work out of town, you get a little love-drunk when you're together again. Absence making the heart grow fonder might be the very essence of cliche, yet the fact that it is, indeed, 'cliche' is indicative of the absolute truth of the statement. My heart is fonder. More fond. Heavy-laden with fondness. This is not to lessen the sweetness of the days when he is not working out of town... I would much prefer the company of those days. The days where 5:00 pm, like an anchor, keeps me from floundering, drifting lost at sea.

But, I like to look for silver linings... and the warmth of the weekend still lingers on my lips and in my heart.

Ella...

Ella- Do you know how I love you, Mommy?

Me- How's that?

Ella- It's the same as your warm.

Me- Ah! That's so nice honey! Thank you?


I'm not sure what my warm is, but I asked her again to double check and, yes, she loves me the same as my warm! What a sweet, random girl I am blessed to have as my daughter!

The Best Things

Sometimes being a little brother is hard. Sometimes your big brother and big sister get to go play at their friends' house and you have to stay with your mom. But then sometimes you feel a little sad and your mom feels a little bad and you get to drive through the Dairy Queen to get a chocolate dipped ice cream cone. Then you get to sit on the front porch steps in the sunshine on a lovely spring day and make a mess of your face, hands, shirt, and pants while your mom tells you how much she loves you and how cute you are!

Sometimes the hard things come and magically transform into the best things with a little help from ice cream cones and love.