Day 30: Da Moose Da Moose

Alan and Marivic (brother and sister-in-law) are visiting from California. The other day they drove to Bountiful Peak and happened upon this moose. While telling Mike and I the story (and it's a funny one), Marivic tried unsuccessfully to show us pictures of the moose on her laptop. Later that night, I received this notification from facebook along with the following photo:


Marivic Cuyos Marsden added a photo of you.

At least I'm drinking water and not soda pop!!!

Can You Have Your Cake... And Eat It Too?

You must promise to read this post first... then scroll down to see the picture.

Yesterday was my Dad's 75th birthday. Mother called the bakery at her favorite grocery store and ordered Dad a birthday cake (she and Dad have ordered cakes at this store for years). She didn't want an assortment of colored roses on the cake; just white roses... for Yorkshire where Dad was born. She told the girl at the bakery that she wanted the cake to say "Happy Birthday Granpa". Notice how we spell "Granpa" without the D. The girl was a little confused so Mother spelled it for her G-R-A-N-P-A. The girl thought Mother said M instead of N. "No" said Mother, "it's N as in Nancy." But the girl didn't understand Nancy, so Mother told her, "N as in north." She understood north.

When Mother went to pick up the cake yesterday this is what she got (you may now scroll down and look at the picture):







When I first saw the cake at Dad's birthday party last night, I wasn't sure what to think of it, and for a brief moment I thought Mother had ordered it that way on purpose. Then Mother told the family the story of how Dad's birthday cake came to be. We all had a very good laugh over it. Mother told us that her reaction when she picked up the cake at the bakery was, "it's a good thing we are a family with a sense of humor."

Michael, who has been in the retail business FOR-E-VER... told us that 99 out of 100 people would not have had Mother's generous reaction. So... I'm curious, what would you have done? What do you think of this story? Please, please tell!

Wouldn't It Be... "Udder"ly?

Every year about this time, my hands become very dry and cracked. It is extremely painful as the skin on the backs of my hands, between my fingers, and on my knuckles crack and bleed. This continues until the spring. For several years I have used udder ointment on my hands before I go to bed, sometimes covering them with gloves to keep the moisture in. I only use it at bedtime because it is extremely greasy and it would be difficult to do my tasks during the day with so much grease on my hands. The purpose of udder ointment is exactly what you are thinking it is... it's for cows. Recently, my friend Morgan told me a about a lotion called udder delight, it serves the same purpose as udder ointment for cows, but works better for us because it is not greasy and can be used more often.

I had a funny experience last night when I went to HCT with my friends Char and Kimmy. The musical was My Fair Lady and it was excellent; I loved the stage sets, the singing, and especially the costumes. I was really excited when I discovered that our seats were on the second row. I mentioned to Char that we were sitting so close, we would be able to see the sweat fly off of the actors. Sure enough, the first time I saw spit spewing from Henry Higgins mouth, Char and I turned and looked at each other with big smiles on our faces. After the intermission, and just as the show resumed, I realized that I needed some lotion on my hands. I reached into my purse and found my lotion and squeezed some onto my hand. Just as I started to rub it in a big glob of lotion flew out of my hand and landed on the shoulder of the lady sitting in front of me. I was mortified. What should I do? She hadn't noticed, but I couldn't stop staring at it. She was wearing a coat and I was trying to decide if it looked expensive or not, I wasn't sure if the lotion would leave a stain. I continued to watch the show, but my eyes kept returning to look at the big-pink-glob. I thought about just reaching down and flicking it from her shoulder, but I knew the person sitting next to her would see me do it, and... what if I flicked it right into Henry Higgins spit-spewing mouth. Ohhhh, what to do, what to do? When the show ended I decided I had to say something to the lady; as she stood and turned around I leaned towards her and said (so that hopefully only she could hear), "I dropped a little lotion on your coat." She was an older lady with white curly hair, her smile couldn't have been any brighter as she said, "it's okay... my coat will smell really nice." I smiled and told her thank-you, but I just couldn't bring myself to tell her... your coat smells like udder delight!

Has anyone else had a similar or mortifying story like this? I'd love to know about it.

These Shoes Were Made For... Tossin'?

I have this little ritual, or... rite of passage that occurs every couple of years. I get a new pair of walking shoes. This year Michael gave me my new walking shoes for Mother's Day. The shoes in the picture above were my last pair of walking shoes (click here if you'd like to read about me and "them" in a 5-K race). When I get new walking shoes, my old shoes take on a new role... they become my "wait-at-the-back-door-shoes" which means, that they are always there waiting for me when I'm leaving for work, or, when I have to run a quick errand to the grocery store, or if someone comes over and I have to quickly hide my bare feet (sorry, that's another story... and you're never going to read it). They actually become very useful shoes for me.

Last Saturday Mike and I went on a drive with our friends Steve and Becky. It was a beautiful day. We listened to conference as we drove, Steve had a little snooze... or two; Mike drove, and me and Becky visited (while we listened attentively to the first session of conference).
We stopped at a campground in the mountains to enjoy a picnic lunch consisting of Leger's sandwiches (have you tried that deli? A.MA.ZING).

After lunch we walked along a designated trail (and I emphasize DESIGNATED) to the restroom; which was closed. So we headed back down the trail and got into the car to go home. Even as we were just starting to drive through the campground to the exit, I detected an offensive, really offensive smell... and it was ME!! Well, not really me, but on me. Nobody else seemed to have noticed it. "I think it's on my shoe!" I said, as I lifted first one foot and then the other. Sure enough, there it was on the sole of my left foot. Ooooohhhh, aaarrrggghhhhh, sick, gross!!!! times a ga-zillion!!!! "I'm throwing these shoes away, where's the garbage!?!" I proclaimed without any hesitation. Now everyone was noticing the smell (smell is a generous word here), I mean STINK!!!! There were no trash receptacles in this campground, so Mike pulled the car over and threw the offensive shoes into the shrubs, and I was left with nothing but socks to cover my feet (click here to read Becky's blog post and see photographic proof).

Now you might ask, why didn't you just clean your shoes off? well... I didn't want to. They are my old shoes, they've done their time, paid their dues... but on Monday morning when I was leaving for work and went to put my shoes on... they weren't there. Oh dear, I forgot; now I was going to have to wear my new walking shoes to work, and if you know me very well at all, you know that I didn't want to do that, 'cause... they are for walking in, not working in.

So here's a little advice if you are going to the mountains and you don't want to end up wearing your walking shoes to work: wear your oldest shoes and stay off the trails... 'cause apparently they are only for dogs; and always, always wear your socks, especially if you don't want to go bare foot when your shoes are in the shrubs... and that's still the story that you're never going to read.

Here's Your Sign

Can anyone see my error on this sign that I wrote for the Deli? I was advertising our peanut butter and jelly kids meal. It was there all week long, but it wasn't until Friday that a customer pointed it out to me. According to my employees my face was bright red. When I went to the back room I laughed so hard I cried.


What can I say? It's me.

These Shoes Were Made For Walkin'

I have an assortment of shoes that belong to me. My non-every day shoes (church, dress-up, appointments...) are in my closet. My every day shoes (work, walking, grocery store...) are in Mike's music room (garage) where I slip them off and on as I come and go.

Because I slip my shoes off when I return home, I don't un-tie them, which means... when I leave again they have to be untied before I can put them on. So every morning when I leave for work, I slip my feet into my work shoes leaving my heels hanging out of the back, until I get to work where I sit down and then untie my shoes and put them on properly... why don't I just do that at home you wonder? Good question. I don't know.

So... tonight, as Mike and I were leaving to go to Caitlin's choir concert, I decided to wear my walking shoes that were right there by the music room door. I slipped them on as usual, and once I was in the car and Mike was driving away, I put my feet in properly and tied the shoes.

When we arrived at the school and got out of the car and started walking, I noticed that my shoes felt rather loose. I must not have tied them tight enough I thought. As I looked down to see if my laces were loose I made a startling discovery... I-was-wearing-Mike's-shoes. Yes. I wore my husbands shoes, in public, to my teen-age daughter's concert. How's that for embarrassing your child?

I'm not old enough for a "senior moment". Am I?

Please tell me that some of you have done goofy stuff like that. Please!!

More Freckles....

This morning I called Verizon Wireless to ask a question about my account. Of course I had to go through numerous menu options before finally getting to a human to ask my question to. But it turns out that I am not authorized to discuss the account with Verizon; only Michael is. "I've had this account for years," I explained, "I've always been the one to call and discuss the account." "Yes ma'am (drone voice), but our policies have changed as of September 2008 and only the person whose name is on the account can discuss it. Michael will need to call Verizon and authorize your name on the account, and then we can talk to you." So I then ask her if there is a way he can call without going through all of the menu options again. She gives me an easier route and then asks, "is there anything else I can answer about your account today?" What?....Huh?....I'm confused. Wasn't I just told that she could not talk to me about my account? Is this what is refered to as an oxy moron!?! My answer:(politely; in a slightly....extremely slightly sarcastic tone) "apparently not, since I am not authorized to discuss the account. Thank you."
Do you think I told her what to do with her freckles !?!

The Office Part 2

The top ten things you should know if you're ever going to work at a Doctors office:

#10 If your employer (Dr. of course) is going to perform surgery on you, make sure you are "out of it" before he comes into the OR. If you can't see him....he can't see you.

#9 If you are having an ultra sound at the office where you work, be sure and drink lots of water, if you don't....it could be really awkward.

#8 While honking the horn and waving enthusiastically at a co-worker in the parking lot, be sure it's actually your co-worker.

#7 Know the correct pronunciation of all medications given to women. It's really bad if you pronounce something and everyone is laughing except you.

#6 Be sure you know that RSV is a respiratory illness, and that RSVP is a response to an invitation.

#5 If you ever do a pregnancy test for a patient....wear gloves.

#4 If your child (or anyone for that matter) asks to borrow a pen, be sure you give them a regular one and not one from the office that happens to be in your purse. You never know what "logo" you might be sharing.

#3 Don't ever get a throat culture in the office lab, especially if it involves a tongue depressor.

#2 Never; under any circumstances use a patients cell phone, have them re-route the call to the office phone.

#1 This is the most important thing of all....don't abbreviate the word follow-up when writing it in your schedule book. I promise....you will humiliate yourself.


It looks like the girls are enjoying the top ten list

Happy JULIO!!!

A few years ago we were at the Buzz baseball game. I just happened to glance up at the huge scoreboard just in time to see the lit up digital letters JULIO. Thinking I was reading the stats of the current player up to bat, I excitedly brought it to the attention of those who were with me, "that player has the same birthday as me, July 10!(JULIO)". My son Jeff (laughing) informed me that was not the players birthday, but his name; Julio.Today is JULIO and I'm 50 years old!! What ever way you look at it (half a century, five decades, 15 years from Medicare and Social Security) it is better than the alternative. I'm so grateful for all the many blessings that I enjoy in my life and I'm looking forward to the next 50!!! I also want to wish Happy JULIO to a few of my birthday buddies; Alyssa Marsden (my neice), Brenda Smith, Lindsey Nelson, and of course Jessica Simpson!!
Here I am in one of the places I love the most; with the one I love the most (together we're 100)

A Wrong Turn...Ooops!!

Twice a year we make a little trek down to the sewage plant in West Bountiful to pay our bill. I could send it in the mail but it's always been a little bit of a field trip to drive down the mile long road and see what life is like at the sewage plant. Today was the day, and so I decided to go on my way home from work. Since the Legacy Highway has been going full speed ahead, getting to the sewage plant (farthest spot west in our community) has required some detouring. The last time I went I actually drove across the northbound and southbound lanes of the new highway to a frontage road which runs along side of Legacy and I followed the signs right to the sewage plant. Today however, things had changed a bit and the signs led me to actually drive on the new highway. I was tempted to go home and get Caitlin (in years past the kids have always enjoyed the "field trip") so she could ride on the new road. It was truly adventurous. I got off the highway as directed and was now on the frontage road where I drove past the dump and the West Bountiful pond but somehow I made a wrong turn and I missed the sewage plant. I was completely surprised to see how far south I had driven when I saw a sign for a 500 south ramp (I should be at about 1200 North), and I realize that there are dump trucks coming towards me and all around me and I'm about to drive onto an overpass that they are building. I'm the only civilian driving in the middle of the work zone...ooops! I made the quickest 3 point turn in history and got out of there as fast (there weren't any speed limit signs) as I could. I finally found where I was supposed to go, made my payment and headed home. I think my sewage plant bill paying field trips are over, next time I'll mail it.

I Told Her What To Do With Her Freckles

I've been a little blog happy this past week but here I go again. I had a little experience at the gas station yesterday that I thought would be worth sharing. But first I must preface it with a story from the past. When I was quite pregnant with my first child I was a working girl. I worked at the church office building with a lot of other working girls. One girl (we'll call her...Debbie....'cause that was her name) was there for just a short time before leaving on a mission. She was the kind of girl I'd have stayed away from in jr. high or high school. Kind of intimidating, the mean girl type. Debbie had more freckles on her face than I'd ever seen on a face before. One day as all of the girls in the office were going on a break together, Debbie thought it would be funny to stick out her foot and trip me (remember I'm about 6 months pregnant). When I recovered from the trip I looked her strait in the eye and said, "you ever do anything like that again, I'll pull all those freckles off your face and shove them down your throat." Over the years as I've shared experiences of people "bugging" me, my father-in-law has said to me, "Hap, did you tell 'em what to do with their freckles?" So for yesterdays story. I've been going to Chevron on 4th north and 5th west for years to fill up my car. For well over a year now I've meticulously and successfully planned to fill my car every other Wednesday because you get a free carwash when you use your Chevron card and you get at least 8 gallons. Due to the rising cost of gas (Chevron, most expensive) I've been filling up at Costco all winter. But yesterday I decided that I was going to Chevron because my car was filthy and they have the best carwash. Mike decides he's going too. But first, I (Apollonian) have to call Chevron and make sure they still do the Wednesday deal. When the lady answers, I ask my question. She responds "yes". So off to Chevron. After filling our cars Mike and I both go into the mini, mini mart to present our receipts and get our carwash codes. The lady asks, "are you the one who called on the phone?" I give her a big smile (I always try to be a friendly customer) and I tell her that I am. She then goes off on this lecture about how she is sorry but she has no patience for people calling her on the phone. She's there all alone and if the phone rings she has to answer it (I work at a Drs. office and have 5 telephone lines to answer, charts to take care of and patients to check-in, often all at the same time), Mike and I are just standing there listening as she goes on and on, and then she hands us our "free" carwash codes...you know the ones that cost us 3.85 and 9/10 a gallon to qualify for. She continues by saying if we want to know about the carwash, just come in to get our gas and ask about it when we get there. I took my carwash and smiled and said "thanks," then looked her in the eye and added, "I don't want to come in and ask about the carwash, if I'm not going to get a free carwash I'm going to Costco to get my gas." Her mouth was left open and speechless. I think I pretty much told her what to do with her freckles.