Living Vicariously

Just one of the many perks of having a little girl.

Morgan's blessing

On October 14, Morgan was blessed. I thought I would share a little of what was said during the blessing. Cody said the prayer and did such a wonderful job. Here are some of the things that I remember:

He blessed her that she would give kindness and love to everyone. To accept everyone with unconditional love.

With a love for the gospel and a desire to live the principles of the gospel.

When the time comes, he blessed her that she would meet and marry a worthy young man in the temple and raise a family.

With the power and desire to share the gospel with others and a love for missionary work and genealogy.

With a desire to study and gain an education.

To be a peacemaker, and to speak words of softness and kindness in times of trial.

It was a beautiful prayer, a beautiful Sunday, and a beautiful little girl. We are so thankful for our sweet baby girl Morgan.

From Far Away Places

Grandma and Grandpa Nelson came to visit Claire and Morgan a couple of weeks ago. We had a great time with them, showing them our favorite places to visit, playing games, and laughing with them. They basically spoiled Claire rotten the entire time they were here, bringing her new toys and games, and playing those new toys and games with her, over and over and over! They are really wonderful grandparents who love to be around their grand kids. It was such a delight for us to have them visit our little home here in PA and be at Morgan's blessing. Here is a summary of the joy that was to be had the week they were here:

We went to a pumpkin patch and farm but naturally, my camera decided to malfunction, so we didn't get any pictures. But Claire had a great time, picking the biggest pumpkin she could find! Claire and I attempted the corn maze there, and right as we were about half-way through, Claire announces she needs to go potty. Great! She can only hold it for a couple of minutes, so I was dragging her along as fast as her little feet would go, trying to find the exit. So about 10 minutes later, we finally were out, and Claire had to get a change of pants!




Grandma Nelson bought these fun faces to put on the pumpkins (much better than carving!!) and Claire had a lot of fun mixing and matching the faces she could create. She still goes out on our patio and switches the eyes and noses around. They are her personal mr. pumpkin heads. She loves them!

One of Claire and my favorite things about Grandma is that she loves to play games with Claire. Grandma taught Claire how to play a couple of fun games- this one is where you build a castle for your princess.


We took Granda to the zoo and aquarium. I think Diane had a good time looking all the sea life that our aquarium has.

Claire and I liked watching the polar bears do nothing.


We took Grandpa and Grandma up to the Incline where we had a look at the city, read some history of the city, and took a ride on the trolley!



Thanks for such a wonderful visit! We can't wait to see you again.

Inny Minny Miny Moe

Can you tell who is who? Claire's picture is when she was about three months old, Morgan's is when she is two months old, and mine, I don't have a clue how old I was. I am just amazed that I actually have a baby picture!

Do you see any relation?

For My Mom

Morgan Joy

8 weeks old

Don't worry, I will pinch those cheeks for you.

Shades of Red

Rose, rust, burgundy, wine, maroon, magenta, puce, crimson, cherry, cerise, vermilion.

All shades of red.

I have noticed an alarming and rapid change here in Pennsylvania, and no, this isn't an 'I love Fall Leaves' post. This is a bitter diatribe about an alarming change that threatens to take over my household, my family, and shake the very foundation of my marriage.

I consider myself a pretty tolerant wife. Long-suffering, if you will. Now don't get the wrong idea, my husband is a gem, treats me real good. However, if you know Cody (said husband) you know that when he jumps into something, he jumps in all the way, taking his shoes, shirt and wallet in with him. Like fly fishing. I think it's fair to say he would shrivel up and die without his life sustaining IV of Winstons and dry nymphs. So for five years I have let him go fishing basically whenever he wanted, because I knew it made him happy.
"Sure, I just had a baby two days ago, but honey, you go right on out and go fishing."
"Sure, why don' t you go on an three day fishing trip on our anniversary for the third year in a row."

You see, long-suffering.

But I think I have just about had it with the latest infestation of red that has Cody up to his ruddy little neck in camo and entrails. You guessed it. . . . he has picked up hunting. Big bummer.

My problem isn't so much with hunting animals- I am not a tree hugger or anything like it (though I do only shave my legs once a week in the winter, which makes me kinda granola). My problem with hunting is the incredible case of redneck that accompanies it. At a rapid pace, Cody went from cool husband who found joy in occasionally wearing over-priced fly fishing shirts, to a full blown, buying-camo-at-Walmart, target-practicing-with-a-crossbow-in-our-backyard, look-at-my-gut-hook-buck-skinner, help-me-fit-60-pounds-of-dead-deer-in-the-fridge redneck.

I put the blame on one of his fly fishing buddies who took him out turkey hunting several weeks ago. He filled his head with all sorts of seductive tales of guns, crossbows, shooting Bambi's mom and dad and BAM! Cody relinquished his hold on the rod of normalcy and stumbled off onto a scarlet path paved with sunburned napes. And that's the issue I have. Not the killing of animals (though, what the heck do I want with all that deer meat?) so much as the life style that accompanies hunting. Cody doesn't quite understand what I have against hunting- "Don't you think its manly?" he asks me. Sure, if it was 1845 and you were bringing home dinner. But it's 2007, you go to dental school, and most hunters now-a-days don't even have all their teeth. I know, that's harsh and judgemental, but that's how I ride. In fact, Cody was watching a broadcast of a public forum protesting some change in hunting laws here in Pennsylvania, when a tall skinny redneck, dressed in flannel, gets up, with chew still tucked quaintly in his lip and starts eloquently defending why hunters should be able to kill rodents three days earlier than the law currently allows. "We should have the right, nnkay, to have those three extra days, nnkay, to kills us some raccoons, nnkay" and so on and so forth. . . nnkay. That, Cody, is the prime example of why hunters have such a negative stereotype these days.

I am not one that is super into appearances. I mean, sure, I can be a bit granola from time to time (I assure you it is purely out of sheer laziness, nothing to do with any political statement). But when I come home to find my husband, still in his camo, boiling the top of a deer head in my kitchen, I draw a line. What was he doing, you city slickers ask? Oh silly, he was simply boiling all the flesh off the antlers. See! Do you have ANY IDEA what boiling deer flesh smells like?!! I've heard they bottle up this smell and you can actually purchase it at your local Walmart in the perfume section. It's called Essence of a Backwoods Hick. And now my house is permanently permeated with this prize winning smell. I took a brief look and saw Cody prying the boiled fur, flesh, and lingering eyeball off his prized antlers with his gut-hook-buck-skinner and I almost vomited, and I am not using that term loosely. Barf. Gag. Bile.

I know, I know. I know exactly what your quandry is. Just where is he going to hang up those antlers? I'll tell you exactly where. Over my dead, part-time granola body.

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Wow, I can tell by the number of responses to that last post that I am not the only one bugged by gag inspirational stories. Sorry!

It was one year ago today that I started this blog after being in awe and inspired by my sister-in-laws blog. It has been a really fun experience. Before starting a blog, I had a track record of being a really, crappy writer. I cringe when I read the papers I wrote in college. Honestly, they were horrible. After I graduated from college and was working as an employment counselor, I remember sitting down to my computer and having this strong, strong innate desire to be a writer. I felt it over and over. The only thing standing in my way was the fact that I was a terrible writer. So I never tried it. When I started the blog, I found that I really enjoyed the writing process- I am kinda proud of some of the posts over the past year. Of course, I am also ashamed, embarrassed, and in denial about some of the other posts I wrote, but that is neither here nor there. It has been fun and a bit liberating for me, and your comments have meant the world to me.

In honor of my one year anniversary, I will be giving away to one lucky commenter. . . nothing! Sorry, I have nothing to give. But still feel free to leave a comment. Thanks for stickin' with me thus far.