Small town excitement

My next door neighbor's oven element "exploded" the other day, and even though the fire put itself out, it scared her enough to call the fire dept. just to have them check it out. (She is a single woman)

They sent not one...

...not two...
...but THREE firetrucks for the occasion.

Luckily, all is well, and the owner's father-in-law is going to help her put in a new element.

The good news, is that it got me over there to visit. She moved in while I was in the middle of morning sickness with my pregnancy. Todd saw her unloading the U-haul herself and went over to help her move in, and that's the last contact we've had with her.

I went over after the firetrucks left, introduced myself, and asked if she was okay. She was very nice, and mentioned that she had a minor in early childhood education and would be happy to watch my kids sometime if I were comfortable with it.

It's sad to me that it took three firetrucks in her yard to get me to go over and visit. How much of a blessing could we be to a single woman who loves children, and how much of a blessing can she be to a mother with four kids who might like to run an errand once in a while without the whole crew.

It's time I step up and be a better neighbor.

Small town karaoke

Since we have a newborn, we haven't been able to participate much in fair week. But, when I found out that Nate (our cousin) was going to enter the karaoke competition, there was no way I was going to miss it!

So last night we bundled up the baby, and headed to the park for some entertainment. I told Nate that I brought my newborn out for this, so it had better be good. He didn't disappoint, and neither did their daughter, Jackie. She was a riot, out dancing on the stage through several performances. Here she is as part of the line dance competition:

And here's her Lady Gaga dance

And here's Nate, doing his Louis Armstrong impression. He took second place and got $75! We're pretty excited to have him here. He's the new music teacher for grades 6-12. School hasn't even started yet, but he's been out recruiting (with cookies) and has already quadrupled the size of our band. :o)

Yes, he did need a glass of water after that...

Great news!

I have family moving to our tiny town.

maybe you didn't hear me

I HAVE FAMILY MOVING TO OUR TOWN!

My cousin, Erin, and her family are gonna be our neighbors. Her husband, Nate, just accepted a job as the music teacher for our school district.

Can you tell I'm a little excited? The hardest part of living here, for me, has always been that we are so far from family (and Hobby Lobby), but now I have family here.

It's a good day.

No, It's a great day.

Congrats to Nate and Erin. I know Nate will do an awesome job with the music here, and I'm sure Erin will learn to love it like I have :o). It really is a wonderful place to raise a family...especially if you have your family near.

This picture of their family is outdated. They now have an adorable two week old baby boy, so our babies are going to be about 4 months apart! Oh, the fun we're gonna have...

Erin and I grew up in the same tiny town. With Grandma's house close. And cousin's close. And 5th Monday Family Home Evenings with the whole extended family. Around here you see the same thing. Everyone is related to everyone...except me...until now.

Goodness, it's a good day.

Small town livin...

I went to the grocery store this afternoon to see what the deli was serving for lunch. Monday is supposed to be Italian, but it was Chinese...'cause they never follow the schedule. I decided to have the chicken lo mein, but I had a few other things I needed, and decided to get my lunch last so it would still be warm when I got home.

By the time I got back around to the deli counter, I was in the back of the longest line I've ever seen in this county (except for the annual demolition derby). The man in front of me, Mark, offered to let me go ahead of him, but I told him I was just fine.

And then it happened.

Mark got the last serving of chicken lo mein.

My heart hung heavy as I got up to the counter and ordered plain old rice.

I came home and promptly e-mailed Todd, cursing Mark for taking the last of the lo mein, and he promptly e-mailed me back saying he'd be happy to "bust him up" for me, if only he weren't a former navy seal.

Just as I took my first bite of rice, there was a knock at the door, and my friend Julie (whose husband came home teaching last night) stood there with a container of soup and a loaf of artisan bread.

Cue the "Hallelujah Chorus".

Thanks for lunch, Julie. It was much appreciated. Todd thanks you too, 'cause he's no match for a navy seal.

Later in the day, I stopped at the bank to make a deposit before taking Caleb to basketball practice. I only had one kid in the van, but look what we got:

Three suckers. Because Sister Duella knows me, and knows that I have three kids. I can't stop smiling about it.

We showed up to basketball practice, and the door was locked. Candi was there with her son, and made a few phone calls to see if anyone knew what was going on. No need for a phone book...everybody knows each other's phone numbers here.

Todd had just informed me that the coach and his family were in California today, so I rolled down my window and told Candi that unless he'd gotten a substitute, there probably wouldn't be any practice.

That was fine with me, because Brayden had an "off day" and decided to stay home. At least this way he wasn't missing his practice.

We got home, and I asked Caleb to bring in the garbage can. A minute later we heard screaming (mixed with laughter) and ran outside to this:

We never shovel our driveway since it's not paved, and apparently it's gotten a bit slippery. Luckily he was not hurt at all, and we all got a good laugh.

The neighbors were probably laughing too.

It's just like The Truman Show...

My friend Cathy, who comments here as "Cowboy Mom", asked me if I could be the crossing guard for her this morning.

It probably helps that it was a sunny morning and it actually looked like Spring, but it was a great reminder of what I love about this town.

It was just like The Truman Show, where every morning starts "on cue".

At 7:43 the crossing guard turns on the blinking lights, and sets out the cones. The town is quiet, but it won't be long before kids start coming to school, and the businesses open for the day.

I sat back and smiled as I watched the flag go up at the Forest Service. Sister Brown and Sister Olsen pulled into the bank, and someone I don't know (yet) came outside to wash the front door windows at Aspen.

I helped a few kids cross the street, and then watched some more. Sister Anderson and Brother Faddis arrived at Aspen, and then my home teacher, Brother Shaw pulled in trying to see through the tiny hole he had scraped in his window (last time I played crossing guard, he had his head out the window) Sorry, Julie, I had to add that part :o) I was doing the same thing, but nobody was out at 7:43 to see it.

I looked to my left in time to see Sister Stevens, who I visit teach, waving at me from her car. I waved back and wondered if that counts for the month?

Then comes Brother Hamilton, walking to the Forest Service with a smile and a wave. I've always liked him. I think he knew my Uncle David when they both lived in North Dakota. It is somehow comforting when you move to a place you've never been, and find someone who knows one of your relatives.

Down the street I see Brother Draney coming in his wheelchair. I think of how he's probably a bit dissappointed that I'm the crossing guard today, because he won't get to have his usual correspondence with Cowboy Mom's son, Chance, who calls him "Mr. Fantastic".

When Sister Brian's van pulls around the corner, I know that the last of the kids have made it to school, and I can take the cones down, and take off the bright orange vest. I wonder to myself how many people are going to check on "cowboy mom" today, since she wasn't in her usual position this morning, and I guarantee people noticed.

Thanks, Cathy, for the opportunity to have watched the town wake up this morning. This little town is quiet, predictable, and everybody knows my name. I love it.

This blog is gettin' me in trouble...

So awhile back I posted a picture of my new bench, with storage baskets for gloves and library books.

I thought it was a pretty harmless post, until today when I got a call from our (wonderful) local librarian.

She said something like, "Felicia, I read your blog and I think it's kind of funny that you now have a place to keep library books..."

She didn't need to finish. I'm guilty as (almost) charged. We checked out three library books last JUNE, and haven't been back since to return them.

Ah...the small town life.

Faun, I promise you will see those books again...

Everybody dies famous in a small town

Most of you know that I delivered a piece of my brain with each child, and therefore, I can't remember anything.

Within the past two months, we have been late for two dentist appointments because I remembered them about 10 minutes before we were supposed to be there, and both times we were all in our pajamas. The clinic was kind, and when I called to see if I should re-schedule, they told us to hurry and come. They ALWAYS call with a reminder the day before, but alas, I still forget.

Todd had a dentist appointment this morning and I was bound and determined to remember it. And I did. (applause, please). When we went to bed last night I started to wonder if I was crazy because we hadn't gotten our reminder call and I was just sure he had an appointment today. I mentioned it to him as we fell asleep.

This morning, however, everything became clear when we got a wake-up call at 7:45 AM, reminding him of his appointment. I guess they don't trust us to remember overnight anymore.

It reminds me of the song by Miranda Lambert called "Famous in a Small Town". The chorus goes like this:

Every last one, route one, rural heart's got a story to tell

Every grandma, in-law, ex-girlfriend

Maybe knows you just a little too well

Whether you're late for church (or the dentist) or you're stuck in jail

Hey word's gonna get around

Everybody dies famous in a small town

I guess we've made a name for ourselves...

we're the people who can't get to the dentist on time.

Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name

Last week, while we had the tiller that we rented for our garden, we decided to re-plant the grass in our backyard. We inadverantly killed it by not watering for a mere couple of months last summer...

We really don't have a clue what we're doing, so Todd went to the busy farm store, bought a couple bags of grass seed and a rake and came home.

Now, you have to know something about the difference between me and Todd. If we have to make a really important decision (for an example, we'll pretend that we have to choose what cereal to buy), we go about it in very different ways.

I will first get online and read reviews about the cereal. Then I will ask all my friends whether they've tried it, and what they thought. I'll look at the price, how healthy it is, and how much comes in a box. Then I'll call my family and get their opinions. Next, I'll probably say a prayer and then go with my gut feeling. After trying the cereal, I will most likely spend entirely too long examining my decision, and whether it was right, and deciding what I will do next time.

Todd, on the other hand, will pick the one with the best prize inside, eat it, and have no clue what it cost, or how healthy it was, and in the future will not remember whether he liked it or not...so he'll most likely subject himself to the same cereal again.

It was the same with grass seed. He went in, picked the one with the pretty picture on the front, bought the manliest solid steel $40 rake he could find and went on his way.

Meanwhile I called my sis-in-law, Melece, who gave me enough information about planting a lawn to help me realize how much we don't know, and I questioned the pretty bag of grass seed.

So, I drove myself over to the farm store and asked for help. As soon as I did, the owner looked up and said, "Todd bought the wrong stuff this morning...I was going to say something, but sometimes I'm too opinionated so I thought it best to shut my mouth."

To which I replied, "We don't know anything, so please feel free to correct us if we're ever buying the wrong thing. What do we need?"

He then proceeded to tell me we'd need around 35 pounds of grass seed (Todd only bought 20) for our back yard. Since we were buying so much, he voluntarily gave it to us for $2 a pound, instead of $2.35. The grass seed came in 50 pound (ugly) bags, so he told us that we could use what we needed, and bring back the rest on Monday. We could "settle up" then.

Next he started to tell me what to fertilize it with, and when. I stared at him blankly, because I didn't have a pen to write down all the numbers he was rattling off, and I finally broke in with: "Could you just drive by my house occasionally in the summer and tell me what I need to do?"

He smiled and said, "Yeah, I can do that".

Then he told me I'd need peat moss to keep the ground moist. He recommended a tool they have that easily rolls the peat moss evenly over the newly planted grass. I asked how much it cost to rent, and he said, "Oh, you can just borrow it."

Then, he looked at the bales of peat moss, and at his watch. The store was closing in 10 minutes, and he wasn't sure how much peat moss we'd need. So naturally he said, "These bales are sitting outside the gate; If you need more, just come get them and let me know how many you used on Monday."

And off I went with a smile on my face, knowing that even though my dad, (who is armed with a tractor and much knowledge in the area of growing "stuff"), doesn't live nearby...I live in a small town, where everybody knows my name.

Oh, and I just wanted to clarify something: I do NOT pray over which cereal to buy, nor did I pray over the grass seed....but you get the idea about our differences.

A little cowboy humor for your monday morning...

Evolving

I took this picture of Todd last Friday, before he left for an all-day trailride. Notice the gloves hanging out of his back pocket. He's all decked out and ready to go with his new hat, new boots, and my favorite--the Aspen Ranch belt buckle. His friend, "Bruceter" (another therapist at the ranch), is going to help him make a pair of chinks (the leather things that protect a cowboy's legs) because (as Todd says), "If I'm going to ride a horse 4 times a year..."

PS- I added the mustache on Photoshop

A blustery day

This was my first attempt at a picture of the wind we're having today:

It is hard to take a picture of wind :o)

I grew up in a place that had an occasional strong wind gust.

Then I went to college in a place that had a lot of windy days

(or I thought it was wind).

But today folks, I've experienced wind. This "wizard-of-oz-like, rip off your screen door, knock you on your bottom tempest" hasn't stopped for a second since it started at 9:15 this morning.

But, after some careful thought,

I figured out how to get a better shot of the wind:

I'm pretty sure a couple of our bike helmets are in Denver by now...

Bloom Where You are Planted

The kid on the cover of last month's New Era (Porter Ellett) is in our ward. I just finished watching him on Good Morning America, and am inspired by what a great example he is. If he can play baseball and basketball with one arm (and do it well), then I ought to be able to accomplish a lot more with both of mine!

I worry at times about raising my kids here. So many kids in this county get caught up in drugs, alcohol, and sex. I know those problems are everywhere, but we are especially lacking in alternative things to do. There's no marching band, no drama department to speak of (at least not like I'm used to), no football, no soccer, no concurrent enrollment classes, very few jobs, and no place to go on a Friday night. It's so nice to have an example like Porter and his family. They inspire me to be better, and hope for a bright future--regardless of where we live.

Just a Reminder...

If any of you were planning to send a postcard to Caleb's class to let them know you've seen the gingerbread, it needs to be mailed by Monday so it will get here before Christmas break. Remember that we use the pony express out here :o)

The "Felicia fair"

I've been working like crazy to finish my basket quilt to enter it into the county fair so I'd at least have one thing with my name on it to advertise my business.
While I was at the post office this morning, my visiting teaching partner (who happens to be on the fair board) caught me and asked me to bring whatever I could find because there weren't enough entries to fill up the room. So, I went home and scrounged up a bunch of stuff.
Luckily, the rules state that anything can be entered, regardless of when it was made, as long as it has never been in the Wayne County fair before.

Spring Needlepunch

Bug Jar quilt that I made four years ago, but
I finally sewed the beads and buttons on (for eyes) today!
The quilting in the border is supposed to be
fly swatters--it's not my best work.
There's supposed to be a spider web behind the spider,
but I was new to quilting and thought it would be easier to stitch
the web AFTER the quilt was quilted. I was wrong.

"For These I Give Thanks"
I think I started this one while I was pregnant with Caleb (5 1/2 years ago)
and finished it to display for a Relief Society function about four years ago.

Thirties table topper
I made this one with scraps from a client's quilt
after she had me sew her binding.
(I don't usually keep their scraps--
they always want to keep them :o)

Dillon's field quilt
This one is not for judging, but for show.
I thought the people of Wayne county would get a kick out of it.
I have more fabric to make one to sell, but by the time I
add up the cost of the fabric and my time to quilt and bind it,
nobody in their right mind would pay what it's worth.

I also entered a stitchery pillow that I gave to my neighbor
for her birthday, but I don't have a picture of it.

Going...going...GONE!

It took Caleb all of 10 minutes to learn how to ride his bike without training wheels last night. Here he is with Dad chasing him, and cruising up and down the street with Brayden.

It's so nice to live on a street that isn't busy. We have rush hour from 7:58 'til 8:01 AM when all five employees are hurrying to work at Garkane (the power plant) that's two buildings South of our house. Throughout the day, a few Garkane trucks will drive by, but they're on the clock--so they're not in any hurry. On Monday the garbage truck comes--the kids love that. The rest of the time it's pretty much open for bike riding.

We did have a funeral procession come by yesterday...that was exciting.

It doesn't get any more "small town" than this...

The business hours of our local craft shop are such that I never venture out there, unless I call first to see if they're open. I called this morning, and they said they'd be open for another 3-4 hours. Before hanging up, I mentioned that I'd probably be there in an hour.
I got busy doing other things and didn't leave when I had intended. I wasn't in any hurry until one of the ladies who works there called me to tell me that she and the other worker had eaten something bad, and they both had diarrhea, and wanted to close early. They were waiting around for me to come pick up the bottle of paint I needed. Of course, I hurried over to pick up my paint so they could go home.

The moral of this story, is that the rest of you need to be grateful, every day, that you have a Michael's nearby.