Tuesday, December 29, 2009

I'm retiring.

Just like Oprah!

I am shutting this thing down come January.

I have gotten too busy to keep up with posting, and then I feel guilty.
I don't like guilty.
It makes me eat Oreos.

It has been a good few years, and I have loved reading your comments!
Thank you for your friendship and support, and for laughing with me when I thought I was going to crack.

May 2010 bring less stress to us all!

Sunday, December 13, 2009

It's beginning to look a lot like.....a prozac commercial.

I had this hair-brained idea this year to use the family advent calendar for December as an Activity! Calendar! instead of the usual pick a treat out of the pocket and then fight about it amongst yourselves thus causing the "Spirit of the Christmas Season" to fly out of the windows along with the super expensive (yet worth it) furnace heat.

And THAT was the longest run-on sentence ever.

Back to the plethora of family activities.
We have stuffed the pockets of the calendar with everything from "Make Cookies together"(big mess in the kitchen, one wooden spoon caught fire) to "Go to Temple Square to see the lights.(beautiful but freezing cold)

And we are still going at it.

This past week, for instance, we drove to "See Christmas lights in our Pajamas".
Thanksgiving Point, not far from our house has a pretty good drive through light display. Not having to walk around in frigid temperatures is a huge bonus to me.
We had the van doors open, the Christmas tunes cranked, the windows rolled down, and we were all wrapped up in blankets.
Oh, and the heater on full bore.
We are doing our part for that global warming thing.
At the end of the light display, they had real reindeer to see.
Not drive through reindeer.
You had to actually get out.
The kids all wanted to go pet their frozen carcasses.
Sam had to take them, because, well...these are my pajamas:

I didn't really want to walk around.
Not because I didn't look smoking hot in them,(cause I am pretty sure that I did) but because I might get the feet wet, and really, what good are footed PJ's if the feet get wet?
Here is the picture he got with the kids and the reindeer:

Go ahead and click on that bad boy to make it bigger.
The quality is awesome!

Beggars can't be choosers.
And footie-wearers can't be photographers.

So this is the reason I haven't been around the Internets much.

Been having too farking much fun hangin' with the fam.(Some sarcasm may apply.)
Christmas shopping.
Baking stuff up for parties.
Shoveling snow.
Killing at Pictionary!
Mopping up after soggy snow boots.
and finding lost gloves.
Along with my regular chores of:
and generally being the token trophy wife.

I think this picture sums it up:

So if I am not back here again before the big day-

Merry Christmas to you and yours!

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Be very jealous.

Last Sunday night I started getting sick.

Come to find out, I was lucky enough to land myself a portion of the good old H1N1 that is making the rounds.
I have been completely wiped out for a week.

I missed two weddings.
A field trip.
The gym.

But I have been "Keeping up with the Kardashians."

My house has fallen apart.
Finally, on Thursday since I was out of PJ pants with which to lounge in, and my ten year old son opted to wear his sisters stretchy pants to school out of necessity, laundry duty was imminent.

And this is what met me, by smell from the kitchen, and by sight from the bottom of the stairs:

And I now know why they call it the "Swine Flu."

Cause when mama gets it, no one picks up the slack, and the whole house turns into a pig-sty.

Don't even get me started on the kitchen...

Thursday, November 12, 2009


It has been so long since I blogged that I forgot my password to get into Blogger.
I had to do the password recovery thingie.
But here I am!

I just wanted to pop in and post a quickie to show all five of you that I am still alive.

Ten Things I Suck AT:
1- Consistent Blogging. You can't argue with that one.

2- Consistent anything...Sometimes there is dinner, other times you are fending for yourself here.

3- Clothing repairs. I have a laundry basket full of shirts that need buttons sewn back on, or jackets that need a small tear sewn up. I don't think the original owners of said clothing even fit those particular items any longer. Let's not even talk about the time I STAPLED on the Scout shirt patches. And I was the Cub Master at the time.

4- Sleep schedules. If I have a good book, I am reading til 3:00am. If not, I might zonk out during the 10:00 news.

5- Removing unwanted hair. My eyebrows look like Sasquatch. Always. And in the winter, my razor gets a break. Tights come in handy for church. And long boots.

6- Resisting Junk. And to CLEARLY specify...by "junk" I mean "junk food"--not the more popular reference to male genitalia. Which, for the record, I have a long-standing reputation of resistance.
JUNK food. If there is an open box, bag or package of cookies, chips, or candy, it will soon be an empty bag. Willpower. Wish I had some.

7- Sudoku. There are just too many NUMBERS.

8- Praying in public. Like for Sunday School opening prayer, or a family dinner. I always pray myself into a corner. "We are grateful for the beautiful weather...and for weather that is....um, uhhhh...(crickets)...pleasing unto thee??!!

9- Finding an address. Unless the address can be found using landmarks, like "the pink house right behind Target." Truthfully, I am not even sure of where my Norths and Wests are at any given time. Pizza delivery will never be in my future.

Well folks, I am just getting warmed up here, but this is a list of only ten, which brings me to number ten. This is a recently acquired "sucking" and will probably warrant it's own blog post:

10- Zumba.

Sunday, October 25, 2009

This is why women burn candles.

The past week I have had a mystery smell in my house.
A bad mystery smell.

It seemed to be stronger in the kitchen area.
I was hoping for a rotten potato.
That is the quickest fix to the "What the (gag) heck is that (gag) smell?!"
Not a potato.
Still really rank in the kitchen.

This led me down my well-worn trail of mental darkness...
What if it was a dead customer??!!

Let me backtrack for those of you new to the blog.

Me=Deathly afraid of rodents.

My husband and my sons try to keep me out of the loop when it comes down to the mouse population in the house.
When they set traps now, they talk in code.
"Hey, did you check the *mailbox* for *customers*?
(wink, wink)
I know deep down what they are referring to, but I choose to take the conversation at face value.

Lalalalala...fluffy white clouds in my world....

So back to my mystery smell.
I was almost thinking it was a customer somewhere, rotting away, and was slightly afraid to find it, and yet really, really anxious to GET RID OF THE PUTRID SMELL emulating from the center of the house.

I mean, what if someone dropped in?

What would they think?
Admit it.
We all know someone that has a weird smelling house.
And it leaves you to wonder if they can't smell it?
How can they stand it?
Is it Pets? Garlic? Socks?
And really, it is asking a lot out of that tiny bowl of decorative potpourri...

What if someone thought my house smelled like this all the time?

I did what any self-respecting homemaker would do in such a grim state of smell-searching panic.

I lit a scented candle.

I was reminded of the Week of the Bad Mystery Smell by my husband.

It was when the twins were potty training.
The house perpetually smelled like a stinky diaper.

I swear, I was anal about taking those things out to the trash, and yet the smell still seemed to linger.

It was a few days later when we discovered one of the twins had done their business, taken the offending diaper off, and promptly stuffed the package down the heater vent.

The combined force of the air, and the heat redistributed that lovely aroma allllll over the house.

For a week.

No candle can compete with that.

I knew we were past the diaper days.
Still this horrid smell remained.

It doesn't help that I have an acute sense of smell.
This was the only skill I retained from all of my pregnancies.
Gone is the voluptuous chest!
Gone is the aversion to carbs!
But my sniffer!
Yep. Still highly sensitive.

I can smell a fart behind a closed door and down two flights of stairs.
Once I was in the kitchen, and could smell the "fruits" from one of the boys from the family room.
"Who WAS IT!!!!" I snarled.
"No way!" the offender replied in awe and disbelief.
And I swear, bet money was exchanged between the boy and his dad.
I have skeelz.

This smell.
It was making me crazy!

Finally, I found it.

A package of frozen vegetables that got put away in the pantry instead of the freezer. Yesssss!

I was one happy...um, customer.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Down for the Count

It started with Brendan.
He went on a scout camp-out and was up the next night puking.
I slept through it all.

Hooray for having kids that can hit the toilet on their own!
I figured that he just ate a lot of junk on the camp-out.

Then the next day was fast Sunday.
We all fasted, and Jayden excused himself from the dinner table to go retch.
Again, I figured he was just overly hungry from fasting.

The next day, Shianne started ralphing.

It was only then that I figured it out.
"Hey, we have the flu, here."

I got it yesterday.
It was rotten.
I finally needed to eat something, and the only thing that sounded good was a banana shake.
I hate bananas.
Maybe I just needed the potassium?
It tasted pretty dang good.

And today, Jayden is fevered up again.

I want to clear the house out, and have it quarantined.
Lysol everything.

I guess it is going around.
Several schools in Utah have completely closed.

Other news:

Shayne came home last week and informed me that he wanted to work on a project for the reflections contest.
He wanted to enter in the Photography category.
He asked to borrow my point and shoot camera.
The theme for this years' reflections contest is "Beauty is..."
I forgot about him for a while, and he came back into the house, partly frozen, holding the camera.
"I think I got some good ones." he said, "Can we go look?"

So we go upstairs to upload the photos he took.
I was curious, because it was pitch-black outside, and I had no idea where he was going with this.
Here is what he got:

I was floored!
He took the pictures through his telescope!
And I was even more floored to learn he shot them on manual.
He said, "I just kept trying all the buttons, and the one that worked the best was the "M" button, on 4.5 and 1/1000."


He picked his favorite pictures and mounted them on black poster board and put:
"Beauty is...something you can't touch, only see."

I am not sure how two morons like Sam and I have managed to raise this kid.

Monday, October 12, 2009

Random Ponderings

1- Why does gravy never re-heat in the microwave?
2- Why do gray hairs always stand straight up on your head like little bug antennas?
3- Why can I never find any of the 151 pairs of nail clippers in this house when I need them?
4- Why are nail clippers referred to as a "pair" of nail clippers?
5- Why do none of the pens in this house work? I have to resort to jotting down important information in crayons. It makes me feel super professional.
6- Why is it that anything with scrambled eggs on it (plate, cup, pan) never come clean in my dishwasher? Eggs? What the crap?
7- How is it that extra-super super glue has a questionable bond, yet cocoa pebbles can form a permanent molecular attachment to the grout in my floor tile?
8- How does my kitchen faucet get so gunky? What is that gunk? (probably salmonella)
9- Why can't I get off my butt and get my house clean? :)

Friday, October 09, 2009


For the past couple of days I have had no voice.
I am not sick. (Unless someone wants to bring me sympathy dinner. Or cookies.)
I have no other symptoms of being sick.
Just no voice.

I honestly think that this is something my children have been praying for, and clear evidence that they have more clout than I with The Big Guy upstairs.

You see...I can't holler at them for anything.
I have to try to get their attention by snapping my fingers.
I am not a good snapper.
I have never been able to whistle either.
I have resorted to flapping my arms in front of them as they watch TV.
Sadly, I barely register a response.
They are used to the crazy, and think that the flapping is a new stage in that rodeo.

I could call them, I suppose, using my cell phone to call the home phone, but
A- they would never answer it, and
B- if they did answer (by some small miracle), they would be met with silence on the other end of the line--from their mute mother.

They seem to find the dinner table okay when the food is ready, without me calling for them.

I am worried that I won't get my voice back.
Sam said it is that time of year...
The time of year when he has maybe or maybe not seen mice in the general vicinity.
He has to tread very carefully around this subject, since I am not hormonally stable enough to survive a possible rodent sighting.
And imagine!
Imagine if I saw one...
and I

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Let's change the subject, shall we?

I am trying to count my blessings today.
I am still feeling sorry for myself.
Wallowing in it, actually.
Truth be told, it is just a dang good excuse to wear pajama pants and watch junky TV shows. (America's Next Top Model, anyone?)

We are wrapping up football/soccer season in the next couple of weeks.
Then, the family schedule will be a whole lot less stressful.
I got a few really great shots this year of the boys playing.

They are actually at the age now, where they appreciate that their mom is a little freaky about taking pictures of everything.

This shot was right after Brendan kicked a goal.
Shayne is on his team this year.
High Five! (Or middle five...whatever works.)

The next couple are super crappy.
It was a night game, and a zoom lens.
Jayden caught a pass, and ran it.

Now I know, that most of you are thinking, "well, yeah, that is generally how football is played."
Let me give you a little background on Jayden:

The kid hasn't hit his growth spurt yet.
One day, when I was downstairs unloading the dishwasher or something stimulating like that, he yelled at me from upstairs.
"MOM!! Come QUICK!"
His voice had a certain urgency to it, and my heart was in my throat as I ran upstairs to find him.
He was on the bathroom scale.
"LOOOOK!" he said, "HURRY!"
The scale registered 100.2 pounds.
"I broke 100!" he said, "hurry and LOOK, cause I really need to take a dump."
(He knew that *ahem* "nature" would drop him back under the 100 pound mark.)

Like I said, hasn't hit his growth spurt.
He is a skinny kid.

This is his first year playing football, and he has really done well.
What he lacks in stature, he makes up for in drive.
He has worked his little butt off, and I am proud of him.

Here are some projects that I made for the last trade show:
Some Halloween Shapes from Quickutz

A layout with the Fall line from Karen Foster

And what I call a "grid layout."
These are layouts I periodically do to capture little things that don't warrant a whole layout by themselves. Plus it is a great way to use up those spare things (single deco brads, charms or stickers) that are left over from other projects.

I think that is all I have.
Off to wash some uniforms...

Monday, September 28, 2009

What the effffffffffffffff.

My thyroid came back completely NORMAL.

Someone hold me.
Back to square one...

Thursday, September 24, 2009

A whole lot of nothin' for a $25.00 co-pay.

"How are you?" the smiling, green scrub-clad doctor asked me.
"Well, aside from being bat-$hit crazy, I guess I am doing okay" I said.
He chuckled.
I didn't.
Then I cut right to the heart of the matter and brought out my notebook.
Oh yes, I did.
I wrote it alllll down.
I didn't want to miss a thing.
He nodded thoughtfully and made notes as I spoke.
I am pretty sure he was just doodling, but he made a good pretense of the note-taking.
I rattled off everything that was going on with me. Physically. Emotionally.
Then, when I got to the end of the list, he looked up nodding in that knowingly slash sympathetic way and said "you are text-book premenopausal."

Emphasis on text-book.

I seriously can't grasp why guys like this get paid real money.
Google told me I was premenopausal.
I bet there is a Wonderpets episode on menopause.
I want help, not an obvious diagnosis.

I told him that.

Then he said, "99 percent of women that come through that door have one of three things they are concerned about: not being able to lose weight, non-existing libido and lack of energy. If I could fix those things, I would be a very wealthy man."

I knew right then, that this visit was not going to go as I had planned in my head.

We talked a while longer, and he offered to put me on birth control.

I was wondering if he knew that the best form of birth control EVER would be to just keep me like I was.

Birth control?

There were other things mentioned too, don't get me wrong, but apparently there isn't a quick fix for me.
I can't just get Advil Menopause with Anti-Crazy.

I am pretty sure my thyroid is off, so we are starting there, and then beginning a journey down what looks like a very long road of try and try again.

Then, he hands me a very large paper towel festooned with flowers, and looking very much like the roll of Bounty in my kitchen, and leaves me to the undressing for the exam.

I am sure I am not the only woman in the world who undresses, ready for a virtual stranger to see all her business, yet feels compelled to hide her underwear.

There I am standing in nothing but tissue,(my back-end not even covered) and stuffing my bra and undies into the leg of my jeans so they can't be seen.
What is that?

Sparing you the details of the exam, it was over quickly, and this year I scooted down far enough the first time. Yay me.

"This might pinch a little." is a huge, big fat lie of an understatement.

Then some blood work.
Then back to the car.

And when I was in the car, I realized that nothing was accomplished.

Granted, the blood work will be a start.
I need to have patience.

But I was still a little frustrated.
I felt sweaty.
So I went to Wendy's a got a large frosty.
The End.

Friday, September 18, 2009


Can I just say how happy it has made me to read your comments and realize that I am not the only one with the crazies?
Or maybe crazies attract crazies?
Either way, thank you for making me have hope again.

In spite of the hormone festival, here is what we have been doing lately.
A little of this:

You can see our tiny jeeps circled in the photo:

Beautiful scenery (although the leaves have not changed yet. Soon though!)

A picnic with grandpa's famous pasta salad:

A little bit of soccer for Shayne and Brendan.

With a super-hot and studly coach.
Their Dad:

A winning goal kick!

And Jayden is in football this year.

The only reason that I tuned into football games when I was younger was to see the cute man-bums in those tight football pants.
Now that it is my own SON and his geeky friends, it is a little eeew for me.

Since Sam is only working two jobs, over seeing building a new bowling center, being the executive secretary for the ward, coaching the soccer team and generally being a dad, we figured he could squeeze assistant football coach in there.
Besides, living with me lately, has made it pretty tempting to be gone.
Anywhere but home.
I can't blame him.
I wish I could leave me too.

Today, we are venturing out to the State Fair.
I am hoping to find freaky things to make me feel a little better about myself.

I just made these cookies to take along. I clipped the recipe from a magazine, and they are actually good! They are cookies with some serious substance.
Just one of them filled me up.
Cookies for breakfast?
I like it...
And an internet stolen image:

Breakfast Cookies

1/2 cup butter, softened
1/2 cup smooth peanut butter
1-1/4 cups sugar
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. salt
1/4 cup water
1 egg
1 Tbsp. vanilla
1-1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup rolled oats
1 cup milk chocolate pieces
3 cups Cherrios
1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. In large mixing bowl beat butter and peanut butter with electric mixer on medium to high speed for 30 seconds. Add sugar, baking soda, and salt. Beat until combined, scraping sides of bowl. Beat in water, egg, and vanilla until combined. Beat in flour until combined. Beat in as much of the rolled oats as you can with mixer. Stir in any remaining rolled oats. Stir in choc. chips and Cheerios.
2. Drop dough by scant 1/4 cupfuls about 3 inches apart onto an ungreased cookie sheet. Flatten slightly. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes or until edges are lightly browned. Cool on cookie sheet for 5 minutes. Transfer to a wire rack and let cool completely. Store cookies in tightly covered container for up to 5 days or freeze for up to 3 months. Makes 24 (2-cookie) servings.

I will report back later on the fair.
Photos will follow.
And I'll be sure to eat lots of fried things on a stick.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

This too shall pass, yes?

My hormones are out of control.
I am not going to lie, things have been pretty tense around here.

Never fear, I have a doctors appointment set, and I am not leaving that place until I am fixed.

It really, really sucks to get old(er).

I haven't even tried to figure what is going on with my mood swings.
I used to be able to keep my crap together, and knew when "my bad week" was coming for the month.
I would stock up on some chocolate or something, and get through it.
Now, however, it seems like I only have one "good week" a month.
Some days, I am filled with a bitter sort of rage...I feel like I could implode at any minute.

Other days I cry a lot.
From overwhelming blessings...(gratitude)
Because I found a picture of the kids when they were babies...(nostalgia)
Remembering what it was like eating Lofthouse cookies without guilt. (wistfulness)
Or generally weeping from plain old anxiety.

I am super fun to be around when I am like this.
It is like living with Bruce Banner.

I am a hot mess o' crazy right now.
I can't even tear my own hair out, cause, well...it's leaving of it's own free will.

My hair is shedding.
Every day, after I shower, I am picking hairs off of my body, the counter, the floor. The stray hairs tickle the back of my arms, and drive me insane until I find them.
I have been known to ask random strangers in grocery stores to "please see if they can see a hair by the back of my arm?"
"Get it?"

The hair that is falling out of my head, is growing on my chin.
Or my moles.
I have invested in a very expensive pair of precision tweezers.
It is almost a full-time job, the tweezing.

I bought a nose-hair trimmer.

The bloating.
Night sweats.
Day sweats.
Random break-outs of acne? WTH? I am 30 freaking SEVEN!

The only thing that had been bringing me happiness is my nightly bowl of ice cream.
I wanted to share with you, my fine reading pool: My Recipe for Happiness.

And also, because if I am gaining weight from all this happiness, then I need to make my friends a little fatter too, so we can just love each other in spite of our physical imperfections.

Do you have a can of evaporated milk?
Do you have ten minutes?
And some ice cream?
Then proceed to the happy place:

Hot Fudge Sauce
1 c. sugar
3 T. cocoa
6 T. butter
3/4 c. evaporated milk

Boil for five minutes, stirring constantly then add:
1 t. vanilla

Let it cool a bit, and top that ice cream!

I store mine in the fridge in an empty frosting container.

Rinse that pan out, and let's go again!

Caramel Sauce
1/2 c. sugar
1/2 c. packed brown sugar
6 T. butter
3/4 c. evaporated milk

Boil for five minutes, stirring constantly then add:
1 t. vanilla

Cool a bit, and top your second bowl of ice cream.
Or third.
Whatever you need.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Canada Episode III (final)

I totally know that you guys don't care about the final post, cause it has been so long and all, but I finally edited everything else, and dimmit! I am posting the rest of the trip.

Let's see where we left off...
Oh yes, heading out to Prince Edward Island to see ANNE!
Also Green Gables.
The Anne of Green Gables.
That Anne Girl.
Anne with an "E."
I heart her.
On the way out to PEI, every turn of the freeway opened up a beautiful new scene.

It sure beat the trash strewn freeways of Utah.
We reached one particular crest in the road to have it open up into a sweeping field of yellow wildflowers.
The whole hillside was covered!
Before I could catch my breath long enough to holler out "STOP!" Sam had already pulled over.
The van doors opened, and all the kids climbed out, skidded down the gravel roadside, and posed for the paparazzi mom.

You know you are bad when you don't even have to ask anymore.
The family knows a photo-op when they see it.
Seriously though, beautiful, eh?

Since Prince Edward Island is well, an island, to get to it from Nova Scotia, you have to take a bridge.
A seventeen MILE BRIDGE.
Over the water.
With nothing below you.
But water.
It was a little freaky to me.
I am glad I don't have to commute it often. Or ever.

On the way home we saw the finger of God from the bridge.

Isn't that a weird shot?
The setting sun peeked out for a couple of minutes.
Anyway, back to Anne!
We were very lucky that she was home that day.

Never mind my cheesy smile.
I just love Anne.
I have always loved Anne.
We are kindred spirits.
And it was pretty surreal to actually be at Green Gables.
It was not the Green Gables shown in the movies, but the actual Green Gables that Lucy Maud Montgomery based the description on in her Green Gables novels.

We got to go inside.
They had some of the props that were used in the movie.
One of Anne's "puffed sleeved" dresses:

The slate that Anne broke over Gilbert Blythe's head:

"Lover's Lane" (with two middle-aged lovers.)

And the "Haunted Woods."

It was all very green and pretty.
They say that although L.M. Montgomery eventually moved away from Prince Edward Island--her heart never left that beautiful place.

I can see why.

The next place we went was called "The Bay of Fundy."
It was a natural park, where the tide rolls in and out so quickly that you can actually walk on the bottom of the ocean floor.
The tide rolls out, and leaves this sticky mud, and some hermit crabs.
Then you have to get your butt out of there, cause it rises up almost 70 feet.

They are not kidding.
Look how cool, though:

The rock formations were awesome.

The mud? Not so much.
It was like glue.

Meet Dumb and Dumber:

Exploring in the quick-sand like mud.
Slippery mud that would suck your feet in, and not let go.
"Stay on the rocks!" we said.

That night we learned how to use a looney coin-operated washer and dryer at the hotel.

Other highlights of the trip, in a quick summary:
Peggy's Cove, with a very cool lighthouse.
On the way out there, I thought it was interesting to see these random boulders on the hillsides.
They were deposited when the melting glaciers were moving through when the island was formed.

The lighthouse:

I am not sure why we don't have any lighthouses in Utah.
We need to get us some.
I guess we do have that tin shack at the top of Timpanogos.
The kids liked hiking around on the rocks at Peggy's Cove.

We had life-changing donuts from this joint:

I know that the 40 count container is supposed to be a "family pack."
But I ate it all myself.
Don't judge me.
They were donut HOLES for pete's sake.
Those don't even count.

We had a ghetto picnic at one point.

Here is a funny story.
We hit the grocery store to get bread and peanut butter and jam, right?
Cause it is cheap and filling.
And kind of a tradition.
So we had my mother in law, Bonnie go find the jam.
Look what she bought!

What the heck?
As she clearly forgot, that raisins are the fruit of the devil, I marched her right back to the jam shelf to help her select some good old-fashioned grape maybe?

Oh, guess what?
The joke was on me.
Turn that RAISIN jam jar around, and what have you?

Uh, I guess raisins are considered grapes.
In some form.
A thousand pardons, Bonnie.

I was determined to see a real live Canadian Moose.
And this was all I got.
From the moving van none the less.

If you squint, it looks kind of real.

We also took the kids to a free ocean life museum.
It was very hands-on and ended up being a highlight for the kids.
Free is great too.
We were spending a lot of money on Canadian candy bars.

Something had to give.

The lobster in this next picture we were told, weighed around 25 pounds. He was so old, that he had stopped shedding his shell, and actually had barnacles and moss and crap growing on his claws.
He was big. Trust me.

There was also this bright royal blue guy.

That is the color "albino" lobsters are.
Something about missing pigment.

Then we took a drive to see the temple in Halifax.

Nice to have a familiar site, even when you are in another country.

And that was about it.
I will wrap this thing up with some of my favorite scenic photos.
And I am headed to bed.
Dreaming of Timbits.