Carolyn Rasmus

To live with integrity means we feel and live with wholeness. When we - whether consciously or unconsciously - depart from who we are and from our knowledge of right and wrong, we not only complicate our lives but feel increased stress and often guilt.

A simple exercise can help us check our personal integrity. Divide a piece of paper into halves. On one half the paper write the word actions; on the other half, the word beliefs.

On the action side list the things you have done this past week. On the beliefs side of the paper, list the things you believe in, the things you value and desire to do in your life.

How do these two lists compare? Do your actions match your beliefs? If they do, you probably already have the confidence that a life of integrity brings - you feel whole, complete, and at peace.

If there is a discrepancy between your actions and beliefs, you might feel disquieted, agitated, or depressed. Here, then, is your opportunity to make some changes, to look at ways in which you can make time to care for your soul.

Paul Bunyan's Potty + Needles

It takes a long, long time to see the desert. It asks us to redefine what is beautiful. Terry Tempest Williams

By the way

Today is a sentence. March Forth!

When Monstro clears out.

I think things like this:

Ready for rivers.
And summer.
And sun on my skin.

You know you love your friends when their blog update is titled "Burp Cloths" and you're still dying to read it to see what's new. I love you, Lar!

Ready to go to Vancouver.
And surf.
And hike.
And climb outside.

Ready to write in my journal more often (and guilt-ridden for slacking).
Ready to cook an artichoke for my dinner tonight.
Ready to take a nap. But not planning on it. But I should.

I love living in a home with no TV. Though my friends at work think I'm an alien, I love my quiet little life with Scott (does anyone out there who knows me believe for a second that our life is actually quiet?). I love not having noise. I love not having TV blaring in the background, and I love that Scott and I spend all our together time actually interacting instead of plopped on a couch staring at a screen. We read together. We play music together. We look each other in the eye when we talk. (I know that for a lot of people, TV is a great way to spend time together. I'm not putting anyone down!)

Ready to store my winter clothes at mom's house (pretty pretty please?)
Ready to start taking a daily vitamin (Kirsten's preaching)
Ready to start writing letters. I need to visit Target. Is there a target nearby?

If I were to write a story right now, what would I write about (not for lack of ideas, but for an inability to decide which one to start.)
I wish I had the box set of all the seasons of Friends.
I want to build a closet organizer.
I should probably print some wedding pictures (more than one year later).
I would love to make a quilt. It's been a while.

Would brownies made with black beans really taste normal?
Why don't I put lotion on my hand anymore?
How can I clean the little underside of the diamond in my wedding ring.
Wow... what a beautiful ring.
I love Scott. So glad he's mine.

Now I can't think about anything else.

Ain't gwine drink a no more, no more...

Run here mama, run here quick. That old fool liquor has made me sick. Ain't gwine drink a no more, no more... ain't gwine drink a no more.

Stuck in my head. Always.

Except the few times my brain can't stop singing about Monstro the Whale.

Down on the bottom of the ocean, someone has caused a big commotion, a whale of a whale, and Monstro is his name....
He's the despair of all the whalers; oh what a scare he gives the sailors, better beware or he'll give you the same...
When he was just a little fellow Monstro was precocious. Now he can snort and spout and bellow, and he's so ferocious...
Who can make the jellyfish shake and make the sharks go pale? It's the undersea public enemy of Monstro the Whale.

Why? Why fifth grade? Why?

I Know

I'm staying with my cousins for a few days while their parents are in Hawaii.

I know I'm getting old because it's 11:15 on a Friday night and I'm waiting up for my two cousins (senior and sophomore in high school) to get back from hanging with their friends. And I am really struggling to hold out. DEAD TIRED. I'm fantasizing about how nice it would have been to have gone to bed at 9:30 when my eleven-year old cousin Emma went to bed.

It's the same feeling I had a couple months ago when I was at the Gateway with my mom. She had some American Eagle credit left over from before Johnny left on his mission. I walked into the store with my mom. Scanned the room in an instant, and turned to my mom and said, "I'm old, aren't I?"

I keep thinking, "Maybe I should call their phones and see when they'll be back." Lame cousin! Lame cousin! Then I think, "That car sounded pretty nearby. I wonder if that was them getting dropped of."

How late to kids stay out? I forget.

Mom, I appreciate your many many years of sleep deprivation. Thank you.

Because I think I can relate a bit. Can you?

(Oh the joys of Pandora... and a husband's great discoveries!)

I saw a hippie girl on 8th avenue
She barely looked at me for a second or two
and I suddenly realized I no longer looked much like a hippie
mmmmm

She had a long thin dress and rainbow clothes
not long ago I wore one of those
but now-a-days I guess I don't very much
like anything
mmmmm

I had a great pair of bell-bottoms
I had two
my friend borrowed one
and the other I outgrew
and now to the eye
I'm turning into another
non-descript guy

But I still travel light
and my hair is still long
and I still hate deodorant
and I still sing songs
but over the years I've noticed
I'm not dressing as colorfully and psychedelic as I used to

Cause I wore my tye-dyes
until they rotted to shreds
and I can no longer follow
The Grateful Dead
and it's gotten to the point where I don't even identify with most Phish fans anymore

And someday soon I know I'll cut my hair
and a week after that I know I won't even care
Is that what it all comes to
all along
everything that you feel
will one day feel wrong

I was talking to my friend Eric
just to see what he thunk
and he said
'Jeff, it's weird
but I no longer look like a punk'
I guess we don't need our clothes
for an identity crutch
and we looked at each other
and we didn't look like much
and we looked out at the world
like a movie theater
at all the hippies and the punks
and the skinheads and the skaters
and someday or other
maybe sooner or later
they'll come to the realization
that what's important is what you can carry on
in human conversation
and it's not what you wear on the outside
it's what you think and feel on the inside.






















(except the part about Phish fans, of course)

Just got back

from a wonderful evening concert featuring a skilled classical violinist (name on program... downstairs... too far... Cho Chiang Lian, I think) up at the Gardner Hall.

During the Stravinsky I was thrilled, excited, tapping along with my fingers as if I actually knew the fingering patterns myself.

All I could think about was going home after the concert and marching right to my violin and busting out an old de Beriot.

During the Brahams, I started to get sleepy. Sleepy during Brahams... very predictable. "I can beat this urge to curl up on Scotty's shoulder and 'rest my eyes' as my dad always says when he claims he's not actually sleeping." Nope. By the second movement my heavy eyes are to the point where opening them and exposing them to any light would give me a serious shock. I'm not sleeping, but I'm not tap-tapping with my fingers.

All I could think about was going home after the concert and marching right to my bed and busting out the deepest and longest slumber in my Lindsey history.

So of course now I'm blogging. And listening to Jeffery Lewis sing "I Saw a Hippie Girl on 8th Avenue." My, how the night has morphed.

went for a run.
now i'm hacking up a lung.
i'm ready for the sun.
winter running is no fun.

Thinking about Vee hee Day hay.

I associate every holiday with Charlie Brown and Snoopy. The Great Pumpkin... the Christmas Story.... Happiness is finding a pencil.

You know, Scott was Charlie Brown in "You're a Good Many Charlie Brown" as a kid.

On to my announcement.

I've had unusually good luck with V-day. Consider:

Last year, V-day 2009, Scott and I had a romantic V-day complete with Slumdog Millionaire and Cinegrill... with my parents. :) He he he...

V-day 2008 An old boyfriend and I broke up about a week before. My roommate Janelle had also broken up with her boyfriend a week before. We had one of those classic girl V-day evenings with all our friends... PF Changs and the episode of Friends where Rachel, Pheobe, and Monica have a boyfriend bonfire for their V-day celebration and end up spending the night with the cute firefighters (The one with the Candy Hearts).

I was thrilled when Lindsey, one of my greatest friends, came home to my apartment that night after getting engaged! I knew from her boyfriend that it was coming, and I tried to prepare for her with my camera, fondue, and martinellis in fancy glasses. She came in the door looking engaged and gorgeous, and I was there in my sweats and my black spider fleece with pancake batter caked onto the front (I think it still is, two years later)... a excellent visual contrast of our current relationship statuses.

V-Day 2007 This is a favorite. I was a little overwhelmed this semester in school guy-wise. I had come into my apartment complex and ward mid-year after a semester in London, and I was going out a few times a week. With the additional expense of six months in London, I bet if I check out the finances from that semester back, I probably broke even for the year because I didn't pay for a single meal that semester back. I was having a lot of fun getting to know people, and dating is a fun way to do that, but I wasn't interested in getting serious with anyone or finding "the one." I was just dating to date. There were a couple guys who kept persisting, even though I had told them that I wasn't going to be getting serious with anyone, which means I wasn't going to be kissing anyone, which means if they wanted to keep taking me out, I'd say yes, but I'd also be going out with other guys as well. I wanted to be upfront about that so they knew.

There was a guy named Phil who I would have dinner with every Tuesday night. It wasn't supposed to be a standard date or anything. We just had a class together on Tuesday nights, and he had about a thousand Costa Vida free meal coupons. I don't know how he had that many. So every Tuesday after class he, his buddy Johnny, and I would go to Costa Vida. Once we invited our professor and he met us there and gave us each a dollar towards our meal (which was free, so we each made a buck that night.)

So V-day fell on a Tuesday during this fine 2007 year, so in class, the week before V-day, I suggested we call our dinner off so everyone could tend to their V-day plans. None of us actually had V-day plans, so we all figured we'd have dinner together anyways. That Tuesday I showed up for class and Johnny wasn't there. Hmm... What about dinner? Oh, he's meeting us after class, says Phil. Good. I didn't want to be suckered into a V-day date with a guy I liked hanging out with, but had no interest in dating. After class we walked to Phil's apt like we always do, and his roommate Johnny's not there. He's meeting us at the restaurant. Okay (doubtful). We start driving and go straight past Costa Vida. Oh, Johnny suggested we go somewhere different since its a holiday. Okay (I see right through you, kid). We end up at some restaurant, nicer than a Costa Vida, surrounded by V-day-loving-couples on all corners. Oh, and Phil had reservations. How thorough. "For two?" the hostess confirms. Phil looks at me awkwardly, unable to pin this on Johnny anymore.

Awkward date. Awkward night. Awkward couple getting engaged at the table next to us. Awkward dinner. Tiny portions. Weird sauces. Drives me home. Nice guy. Thanks, but no thanks, Phil. I just think it would have been a more successful attempt had he just asked me out instead of tricked me into a date. That was also the end of our Costa Vida nights. In fact, I kind of put a hold on Costa Vida altogether. A year later it gave my cousin Kyle, my roommate Janelle, and me terrible food poisoning. It took a lot to let pork barbacoa back into my life.

As soon as a got home that night. There were roses waiting at the door. "To Lindsey" and some sort of V-day note that was vague, including no personal references that would indicate that it was intended for me. And we didn't know if it was intended for me, because my roommate's name was Lindsey too! We laughed about it all night. The next day I got a phone call from a very nice fellow asking if I got the flowers he left for me. He showed up later that night to bring me some cookies he baked me. He showed up just as I was hanging out with a boy who had stopped by to confirm our date for that weekend. This wasn't a V-day where I was somebody-less... there were just a few too many somebodies in the mix. For the record, most of these boys ended up being my very good friends down at school and laughed with me about it all later.

V-day 2006. A great one. Really. It was a great one. I got to spend the night with a very good friend eating Wisconsin mac-n-cheese, snowshoeing and eating chocolate fondue from a camping stove. It was just a few days before he left for his mission, and it was a perfect way to spend some time saying a real "goodbye for now." Still one of my closest friends today.

But as I went home that night, sad that I'd be sending him off so soon, I found this delightful little email note reminding me that my prospects were good, and that someone new would sweep me off my feet shortly.

Date: Mon, 13 Feb 2006 21:33:43 -0700
From: ----------------
To: binz86@hotmail.com
Subject: From Hans (You Know, Trevor's Friend)

Dear Lindsey,
I think you are a very lovely girl. The purpose of Saturday's date was to make you feel so, but I forgot to say it. My bad. I repent me that I did not do it.
Happy St. Valentine's Day,
Hans
P.S. Looking you up was a bit of a trick, so I hope this works..."

Oh, Hans Shmutz. Seriously one of most enjoyable dates of my life. And while setting me up with him on that triple date (with my good friends and hall-mates Laura and Rachel) was designed to make me the butt of some joke, I had one of the MOST ENJOYABLE dates of my life. It wasn't a joke at all. That's another story for another day.

While we didn't ever have a follow up date... I always think of him when I see the card game "BANG!" or hear the word "Stinker!" (or more specifically the phrase, "You little stinker!"). And good news, our association remains: he just found me on Facebook last week. :)

Oh my V-Day success!
I'm actually serious though. I've had serious V-day success. I've never understood the self-induced sadness that single people partake of on V-day. Sure, eat chocolate. But not because you're alone. Eat it cause you want to! I'm happy that, while I've never had that earth-shattering Rod Stewart singing "Isn't it Romatic," pearls, La Caille (I'm so unfamiliar with this restaurant I don't know how it's spelled. Is it La Calle? The street?) kind of evening on V-day, I've always been blessed to spend the day with people I love. My family and best friends from some of the greatest years of my life. I'm a lucky girl!

This V-day 2010 will be no different. It's wonderful to know that for the rest our my life, I will be spending V-day with the one person I love most in the world! What could be a better V-day gift than that? I'm so grateful for Scott. It's so nice to married to the love of my life because I never think anymore about what I'm planning on doing, just how grateful I am for who I'm doing it with. I love doing everything with Scott! And I don't plan on ever getting sick of him, either. Although I may need to by him some ear-plugs for our 2nd anniversary next year. I look forward to years and years of V-days, even with kids and casual nights. Nothing big and fancy.

We fought the urge to take advantage of Presidents Day to go climbing or some other adventure, and we're spending our V-day weekend here at home... studying! We'll have an awesome V-day together at home and then Sunday dinner with my parents, sister, brother-in-law, nephews, and niece. Happy Valentines Day!

Oh... and I'm celebrating this year with Pygme Marmosets for all! What could be better. Check out my last post if you've missed this announcement.

Don't be scandalized; don't be flustered

Scott and I were driving up to my parent's house one Sunday, and we were mad at each other about something. You never remember later what it was. Anyways, we passed an intersection where there's this hotel or apartment complex called "The Charleston." Every time we pass this hotel, Scott has to say something along the lines of "Look, Linds. We're at The Charleston" and he says Charleston like a southern Evangelical minister. Every time it makes me laugh hard because this is Scott's favorite place in Salt Lake, I think... and it's a pretty creepy joint. And he does it every time... so it just makes me love the boy and laugh.

So, on this particular Sunday, not quite getting along as it is, Scott's fighting the urge to say it, and I'm fighting the urge to laugh about it anyway, remembering it in my head. No one wants to laugh in a fight! The fight would end! Who wants to end a fight after all that momentum? Ha ha... so we're trying pretty hard to stay grouchy when a song comes on our favorite radio station KRCL 90.9. It's some man (probably in a black ribbed turtle-neck with a boulder cap and an groovy group snapping in the background) singing a pretty jazzy tune about "chocolate bacon cake." Did I hear that right? Is the man on the radio singing about chocolate bacon cake? That's disgusting. Right? It's disgusting. I tried to picture what that would look like. You're probably trying to figure out what that would look like too.



Yeah... okay. So, gross. We all agree? (pregnant women may not weigh in on the vote)

Scott and I are toast. It's like a smiling contest where you're sitting a foot away from each other, staring each other down, fish-facing, trying hard to bite your cheeks in so you don't smile first and lose, or even worse, crack a giggle or guffaw and lose. What with the Charleston and this dapper dude on the radio, there's no sense in trying to hang on to a fight.

This is one of my favorite moments with Scott, and not really applicable to my day or anything going on right now, so I'm not sure why it came to mind (maybe its his thing for Julia Child and I watched that blogging movie over Christmas break). But when it did I wanted to track it down so we could remember that moment. I just love Scott! I love that he can appreciate these things. Irony in everyday moments. A creepy looking baby at church. Katie Perry concerts. He laughs hard at all the same things I think are funny (we don't laugh at creepy babies... just make mental notes). That's a reassuring feeling that you're going to have a lot of fun together.

I am still searching for a recording (can't get the same effect without it). But you can conjure up some pretty delicious images just by reading the lyrics. If you want to recreate it in the comfort of your home or for future career guidance if you are considering this line of work, just speak in a slow, monotone, resonant basso profundo and ask someone to nod their head and snap along side you. Wear sunglasses. Drink chai. Enjoy.

Forbidden tastes, secret delights
Guilty pleasures late at night
So many things a person wants
Are not found in restaurants

When I suffer from heartbreak
I like some Chocolate Bacon Cake
You won't find it on the grocery shelf
You've got to make it for yourself
You have to keep it very quiet
But someday you ought to try it
At night when no one is awake
Chocolate Bacon Cake.

Don't be scandalized, don't be flustered
But I love fried eggs with a smear of mustard
And now I'm alone and everyone's gone
I fry the eggs, get out the Dijon
And smear it on a couple slices.
Mustard. I feel like Dionysus
And may I add in parentheses
Anything is good with cheese.
Meatloaf stuffed with ricotta
If you haven't had it, maybe you oughta.
Meatloaf in which ricotta is piled.
You won't find it in Julia Child
But it's so juicy and delicious
You eat it and it softly squishes
Or for a taste of true romance
A grilled cheese sandwich with pecans,
Green onions, swiss cheese, and yes ma'am
A dollop of raspberry jam.
Or cheese and peanut butter on white bread
Dipped in batter, I've heard it said,
Dipped in batter and then deep fried
A secret pleasure that must be tried.
No, you won't find it in Julia
But deep fried peanut butter is truly a
Life saver, and nothing is better
Than toast with jam, baloney and cheddar
Or eggs and cheese and grits and toss
On a squirt or two of Tabasco sauce

Forbidden tastes, secret delights
Guilty pleasures late at night
So many things a person wants
Are not found in restaurants

And if nobody else is near—
A glass of tomato juice with beer
If it's dark I might spread
Peanut butter on soft white bread
And a couple pickles on the side,
Eat it and feel pacified
Or peanut butter, mustard, and baloney
A delicacy among the Shoshone
There's nothing cures your cares and woes
Quite like a couple sloppy Joes.
Julia loved her joes to be sloppy.
She wrote it in her French Chef copy
Sloppy Joes calmed and steadied her.
It was taken out by an editor.

Forbidden tastes, secret delights
Guilty pleasures late at night
So many things a person wants
Are not found in restaurants

If you're in need of sympathy,
Try chocolate, basil, and brie
In a panini, heated, and which
Could be followed by a peanut butter banana sandwich
Which some say is the most
Delicious served up on burnt toast.
Others cure their miseries
With pancakes made with cottage cheese.
Or go to the kitchen, get out the bowls
Have chili and cinnamon roll.
You don't know what pleasure means
The acme of the world's cuisines
The epitome of class and status—
Put baked beans on baked potatoes.
Lay them out in two nice stratas
Baked beans on baked potatoes.
Don't tell them or him or her
It's what you secretly prefer
And if you're still hungry, for goodness sake,
There's always Chocolate Bacon cake.

Forbidden tastes, secret delights
Guilty pleasures late at night

(For the record, I've been known to put some strange things on my sandwiches. When you're a river guide, and you have the same ingredients for a sandwich to work with every day... you start to get creative. Lettuce sandwiches... I've done peanut butter and pickles... tomato and raspberry jam. The first time I made a sandwich for Scott (Lake Tahoe. 2008. Jim Gribble's house. First date.), I think I made it with strawberries and pineapple with dijon, spinach and turkey. I don't remember his reaction.)

Ooooo... google.

My sister-in-law is a wise one. A few years ago she developed a theory about google. She predicted that google would take over the world, which it has. I use google mail, google chrome, and some day I hope to use google wave. I love google. I google all day long. I google things I already know. I google my husband. I google my dad. I google “google.” I google from my computer. I google from my phone. I can actually send a text message to google as if we're buds. I’m a little upset that my spell check doesn’t like the word “google,” but someday it will and google will be in all dictionaries as a “google” noun, “to google” infinitive, maybe a “googlish” adjective. Ode to google and their white, straight-forward home page with current artistic graphics indicating the 50th anniversary of Sesame Street and Guy Fawkes day. Thank you google, for giving me instant gratification from anywhere at any time.

But what is this gratification costing me? Is google encroaching a little too much? I log onto my email today, after writing a recent email about Moab, and I read the banner ad above my email is about Moab vacation rentals. I refresh the page and I see a sale for “Santa Barbara Beach Rent.” That’s strange. So I refresh again and I find information about “I’m Sorry” gift cards and flower deliveries. Could google have read my "I'm sorry" email to Scott a couple days ago? I’m getting a wee bit wary.

I can't wait

to intern for Utah Business Magazine! Thank you to Candace for getting me in!

WEIRD-BIRD

Salt Lake can't make up its mind. Emily went to Snowbird today and said it was "scrapey" but decent. But outside I'm wearing slippers and a windbreaker. It's hardly winter, but I'm so ready for it. I always get frustrated this time of year. It seems like when I'm ready for winter, It takes its time, and when I want to hang onto Fall a little longer, the snow falls in October. Last year I was in sunny Santa Barbara for Thanksgiving. I thought it strange to have a Thanksgiving without snow, one where I could wear shorts and go surfing. Snow-less Thanksgiving is fantastic in Santa Barbara, but I will not tolerate a snow-less Salt Lake Thanksgiving. The weather gods better kick into gear.

I complain about the weather not being able to make up its mind every year. I've spent 21 of my 22 winters in Utah. I should probably let it go and get used to it.

Birds are flyin' south for the winter.
Here's the weird-bird headin' north,
Wings a-flappin', beak a-chatterin',
Cold head bobbin' back n' forth.
He says, "It's not that I like ice
Or freezin' winds and snowy ground.
It's just sometimes its kind of nice
To be the only bird in town.

Shel Silverstein

This poem is not relevant. I just liked it.




















And this weird bird just makes me think of Doug.

Okay... that bird has taken me on an extremely unexpected journey (thank you google...isn't it about time google be part of the spell check dictionary) and break from my day to gaze upon a website filled with Doug-like drawings. This BreadWigGuy might be related to me.

Your hand opens and closes and opens and closes.

If it were always a fist or always stretched open, you would be paralyzed.Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expanding, the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated as bird wings (Rumi).

This morning I did this...



...for the first time in almost a YEAR (Well, not ALL of this. My headstand is pretty rusty! And although my dad has always called me "Pretzel," the one in the top right corner looks a little unnatural... even though I will definitely be trying it out when I'm done with this post). I missed it so much, and it felt amazing to get back into it a little. I have done yoga at a studio a couple times a week ever since I was sixteen... at least until I left the Y. On the river, I'd do it every once in a while on my own... but ever since marriage, my yoga-ing has been non-existent. I'd love to be part of a studio again, but I remember enough to get by on my own for a bit. Today felt amazing. Something I definitely need to bring back into my life. I love yoga because it is the most simultaneously relaxing and energizing time in my day. It is filled with Wordsworth's spots in time, and it helps me let go of my day, or help my day let go of me. I love that it takes concentration and conscious effort, but at the same time feels effortless.

Medias or Calcetines?

We did it! We are finally settled in our new place! It feels like a real home now that the boxes are cleared out... books are in cases... frames are on ALL horizontal surfaces... and my one Thanksgiving decoration is in our kitchen. Now I just need to stock up with food in the fridge and it's official!

I cannot believe how much stuff we have. I have no clue how it all fit in our last place!! It is such a blessing to be able to move, have a little more room to put all of our toys. This apartment is going to be a fun adventure for us.

Scott is at day two of Goldman right now! Yesterday was a big orientation day. Today, hopefully, he'll get to know his team and finally figure out what he's going to be doing! I'm excited to see him excited!


So pictures are coming of the new place... but here's a little sneak peek into our strange world of moving. My entire life, my dad has teased me that I can't match my socks. I'd wear a holiday Christmas tree sock that sings jingle bells with a "matching" Halloween pumpkin sock. (By the way, Scott and I weren't sure which Spanish word is correct... medias or calcetines?) I thought they looked nice together. But I did decide when I entered to great expanse of BYU that I would finally match my socks. So I wore white ankle socks. White ankle socks match! No matter what brand they are... at least they're the same color and the same height!

But that's not good enough for Scott. He was very frustrated with me during our moving process. He has a fear of unmatched socks. I told him ten years of owning all these socks, and not managing to have any two socks that match, is a HUGE accomplishment. He didn't agree, however.

Alright... the tradition stands... I couldn't get our video to work. I never can! But Scott can, so unless anyone out there in the blog world wants to fill me in on whatever I'm doing wrong, I'll ask Scott to post the video when he gets home tonight!

HALLOWEENY DAYS

Scott and I were just talking yesterday about my thing with traditions and holidays. I feel like I'm growing up quite a bit and letting some traditions slide, but I guess there's still a huge part of me that loves green pancakes on Saint Patrick's Day and making your twenty-four year-old husband go on an Easter basket search. I love this time of year... back to back celebrations. Halloween... Thanksgiving... Christmas.... New Year. Right now I'm looking out my front window and there is a thin layer of snow on my jeep. The snow is coming down steadily, I can't wait to head to the mountains!

Halloween has always been one of my favorite holidays. My favorite costume as a kid was the year I was Raggedy Ann. Of course I had to wear my winter coat over my costume... but them's the breaks when you live in Salt Lake. It's funny, Scotty was Raggedy Andy for Halloween when he was a kid.

There have been plenty of years when we trick-or-treated in the snow. I always trick-or-treated with McCaye. We had the best time. When I got a little older, I remember trick-or-treating with Sarah Sweeney a few times and then watching a movie at her house. I think fifth grade was the first and last time I watched "Back to the Future."

This is who I'm going to be for Halloween this year. Hopefully we'll find something festive to do on Halloween so I don't end up wearing this costume around the house, just the two of us. I don't know if Scott finds it as amusing as I do... but if I had my way, I'd wear a costume every day of my life.

A few of my favorite memories about Halloween. Number One is carving pumpkins. Scott and I have yet to do this! I can't believe how lame I've become in my old age.

Number Two: It's a Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown. I should organize an amazing Halloween date night with Scott where we do all the things on my list... Too bad our only free weeknight was last night.

Number Three: Candy corns and pumpkins. Johnny used to buy these candies by the bagful the SECOND they were at Dan's Grocery Store. This year Scott discovered caramel apple candy corns.

Number Four: I used to always watch Winnie-the-Pooh Spookables movie as a kid when Halloween rolled around. Thankfully, my nephew Andrew has been watching this movie ever single sunday when he comes for dinner since MAY... so I've gottent that movie completely out of my system. In fact, I might just lay that tradition to rest from now on.

Number Five: I remember Sue and Doug's Halloween birthday parties. I also remember haunted houses in the Badger's basement. We used to blindfold people and make them put their hands in bowls of spagetti and tell them it was brains.

Number Six: When we were kids and finished our trick or treating for the night, my brothers and sister and I used to lay out our candy in a highly organized fashion. That's the only way to lay out the goods for proper trading purposes. Doug always had the most. Johnny's was always a cute little pile, but he turned into a candy maniac as he got older.

PS...

I don't want to be giving anything away... but I just have to say that I have the best Halloween costume of all time this year!!

Okay... It's the same one I wore last year. Last year Scott wanted to bike around Antelope Island on Halloween and I insisted we do it in costumes. So I may not be getting originality points this year for my costume (however I don't know how many other 22 year-old Buzz Lightyears you're going to see running around come the 31st). But can I just say how happy I am that my mom saves these gems from our childhood?! I distinctly remember Doug wearing this costume in Miss Selberg's 5th grade class. Lucky for me, it fits me like a glove... a tight, spandexy glove... but a glove. You better believe I put it on the second we walked in the door after getting it from my mom's house.

BYE SOCK!

Scott and I love spending time with my family on Sundays. The boys keep getting funnier and funnier! Ben spilled something downstairs and Andrew yells up the stairs, "Mom, can you manage to throw me a towel?" Kirsten asked if he wanted a paper towel and he hollered, "No, a string towel!" I thought that was funny, and pretty clever!

I am so happy because Ben finally says my name. Andrew went from calling me "Li Li" to "Zee Zee" to "Yendsee" before he ever got the hang of Lindsey. Ben has started out with "Essey," which I love. I love hearing him talk, especially when he says my name! But my favorite last Sunday was hearing Ben talk to Scott. He LOVES Scott. I love watching Ben because he is so energetic and happy. After the two played outside on the grass while Kirsten and Nick packed up to leave, Ben said to Scott, "Bye Sock!" I loved it! Scott has got himself a new fantastic nickname in our family. Lindsey Lobster and Sock. Thank you, Ben!

LINDSEY LOBSTER

Ever since we were one or two months into marriage, Scott has called me Lindsey Lobster. I don't know why. I've never really heard him make this kind of nickname up for anyone before. I don't really like lobster. I don't think I look much like a lobster. Anyway, I like the nickname. I really do like being Lindsey Lobster. I just wish I could come up with an equally creepy nickname for Scotty. Nothing really does the job. Scotty Squid? Scotty Seaweed? Scotty Squirrel? Hopefully I'll get this in order before our one year mark in a few months. By the way, I googled lobster pictures. people are dressing their babies as lobsters. They're dressing their dogs as lobsters. Maybe this is what I should consider for Halloween this year.