Computer crash.

Just a quick "I am still alive" post.

My computer crashed. It is being fixed.

Come to think of it, everything I have touched lately has turned to crap.

Our Suburban needs a new transmission. The washer is freaking out. I made copies at a copy center and blew the copier. Sparks even. It was so bad this last week, Sam didn't want me touching HIM.

Oh well.

Anyone reading this?

To the 100 or so regulars that come here...thank you! Thanks for making me feel like I am sort-of communicating with adults.


I have no idea how to respond to your comments, it directs me to an empty blogger e-mail page. Just know that you have made me smile, and feel a little less like a psycho.

Weather extremes.

We came back from 85 degree weather, to Autumn in full force.

I have always loved Fall.

I love the rich colors of the leaves. I love crock-pot meals, and warm homemade bread. (Bread-maker!) I love having the holiday season right around the corner, and a good excuse to bring out the Christmas music. Cranking the Trans-Siberian Orchestra always puts me in a good mood.

Most of all, I love breaking out my sweatshirts and track pants again. I love the warm, comfortable bagginess of my cold season attire.

The razor gets used less too.

So...here's to Autumn. It's no beach in Puerto Rico, but it's still pretty cool.

Apologizing in Advance

I have been home from our trip for two days now.

For two days, I have been on the toilet. Constantly.

No, not sick, just normal happenings. I am relieving my bowels of a weeks worth of...um, "collection."

I have this thing, where whenever I go somewhere, could be overnight, could be a week. Could be a foreign country, a cruise ship, or camping in my own tent in the canyons 20 minutes away from my front door. I can't *go.* It's like my butt gets anxiety.

It's not that I don't "need" to *go.* I get the stomach cramps, the bloating... I just can't *go.*

And in Puerto Rico, I ate fresh fruit, greasy fried crud, pastries with cheesy-like substance in the center. I even drank water right out of the tap. One would think I would have the opposite problem that I did. One would think I would be able to produce stool O' plenty.

Nada.

Butt-anxiety. The toilet paper in the hotel mocks me.

Sam doesn't get it. He can *go* on cue. Anytime. Anywhere. Sometimes several times a day. My kids are fine too, in that respect.

It's almost like as soon as I hit my front door, and the smell from my paint, or sawdust or the general Wadley family stench--sent the signal to my bowels. Home Sweet Home.

And the bowels unclenched.

Knee deep...

...in laundry and photo editing.

And hopped up on cold meds.

Here are a few photos from the rain forest in Puerto Rico.
Happy Thursday!!

I'm home.

This past weekend was the Utah Education Association (UEA) weekend. Which basically means the kids were out of school, so Sam and I had the bright idea to take off on a quick vacay with the offspring. We dragged my Mom and Dad along with us, and flew away to Puerto Rico.

I am telling you--this was the coolest place I have ever been. Beautiful! And there is a rain forest in Puerto Rico. I have always dreamed of seeing a rain forest, and it was freaking awesome! Dense and green and lush. Saturated. That was the word that kept coming to my mind. You know when you edit photos in Photoshop, and you keep adding color until it almost looks unnatural...that was this rain forest. And the earthy smell, and the thick stillness. It was one of those "wish I could bottle this up and save some for later" moments. Sometimes just pictures and words alone don't do justice to an experience like that.

The beach was gorgeous. The colors of the whole island, and the people, and the local food...such a great place. Sensory overload. We plan on going back.

Some point in the middle of the trip I caught a cold. I feel like dog-crap. Just completely drained. And a cancelled flight, and Sam ditching me with all five kids. No luggage. Needing a vacation from our vacation.

I just wanted to check in. More later. Need to pack my oldest for Clear Creek (a 5th grade over-nighter...yipee!!)

Still running.

I went running again this morning. Hurt my knee again. Dang! I am really bummed.

I dropped down to one mile last week, and did fine, so I bumped it up to three this morning...

A few of you have asked about my iPod playlist I like to run with. So, here it is. A rather eclectic mix, but works for me. The beat is particularly great for use while LIMPING HOME.


Shauntes Songs to get you MOVING!!
(1) Baby One More Time
(2) Oops I Did It Again
(3) Lucky
(4) I’m a Slave for You
(5) Stronger
(6) Toxic
These first songs are Britney Spears. I am a closet fan. Yes, she is skanky. But dang if her music doesn’t get you moving! My dance moves could use some work. You could skip them if you wanted- but give them a chance if you haven’t relived your high school drill team years recently. Could be toxic.
(7) Strip
A classic by Adam Ant. A two hit wonder- he also did Goody Two Shoes. “…we’re just following ancient history…if I Strip for you, will you Strip for me….” Yeah, but only in pitch black with maybe one tea-light.
(8)You Sexy Thing-Hot Chocolate
A little 70’s number. I sometimes have to fight with myself, because it is so tempting to stop for a minute and just "do the hustle" right there on the street corner.
(9) Hey Baby
(10) Hella Good
Two in a row from No Doubt. The first being Shiannes favorite song. She insisted. And the second I think it a Gold’s Gym staple. I have never gone there when they haven’t played it. Brings back fond memories of me sweating my balls off on the Elliptical machine.
(11) Cotton Eyed-Joe-RedNex (their real name)
In my opinion, Country music at its best. Tim McGraw ain't got nothin' on the RedNex.
(12) Whenever, Whatever
(13) Ojos Asi
A little ethnic flavor from Shakira. Also, because on the first song-my favorite line…”lucky that my breasts are small and humble, so you don’t confuse then with mountains.” I can relate...
(14) Peek-A-Boo-Siouxie and the Banshees
I don’t care who you are- this is a great song. One of my faves from High School. It wasn’t until I was an adult that I listened close and realized the song is talking about a lonely prostitute that gives, um...satisfaction to very specific body parts.
(15) 99 Luftballoons-Nena
This is the German version. Sometimes I sing along, and I think my accent is getting pretty good.
(16) Holding Out for a Hero-Bonnie Tyler
And aren’t we all still holding out? Where have all the good men gone? Were there any to begin with?
(17) Come On Eileen-Dexy’s Midnight Runners
Oh yeah. What a great song. If this song doesn’t make you want to go out and buy some new lingerie you need your hormone levels checked.
(18) Solsbury Hill
(19) Sometimes
This list wouldn’t be right without a little Erasure- the greatest band ever. I put it on the end of the list for the grand finale. They rock.

So there it is. My current playlist.

Cuckoo-Nut alert.

Last night I dreamed I went to an Erasure concert, well, a dress-rehearsal concert, actually. It was at my old high school, and all my high school friends were there, but older and fatter and a little wrinkly, like we are now.

I took Mikayla with me...and Andy Bell kept pulling her up in the stage to help him out. She was so cute, she had pink pants on and piggy tails.

It was a great dream. The concert was awesome! They did all my favorites. But we couldn't clap, you know, cause it was a dress-rehearsal.

Man, someone really needs to get out more.

House stuff.

Well, this last week has been insulation week. A boring step, but a necessary one, especially with the cold Utah weather rolling in.

Sam has been working two jobs, one a graveyard shift, so he is rarely home, which leaves him scratching his head to my frequent break-downs.

"Honey, when the boys pee, it freezes before it hits the bowl. When did you say the insulation was coming?" (this of course muffled by my sweatsuit and parka)

My dishwasher chops food particles into a fine mist and sprays them evenly over all the dishes in the cycle.

The doorbell isn't hooked up. No one knows this, and stands on my porch, ringing and ringing, until telepathically I feel them there.

My washer is possessed by the devil. Periodically it just stops, for no apparent reason, and I have to slam my fist down on the lid in the top left-hand corner to get it going again. The repair man came out, and it worked like a charm for him.

These are things I work around. But Tuesday took the cake. I had some insulation guys show up. Sam had gotten home at 4:30 am and was in bed. So I answered the door. They were a couple of hispanic workers. I have no problem with this, I *do* however have a problem with the fact that they didn't understand a word I was saying to them. They looked at me with that doe-eyed blank look, and then turned to each other and rattled something off in Spanish.

I am racking my brain trying to conjure up Spanish words that I know. I can count, and I know the months of the year, and how to say things not remotely related to "garage" or "power source" or "in addition to the original bid." Nothing is helpful. I tried hand-gestures and pointing...and finally, defeated, I went up and woke Sam, who speaks fluent Spanish.

He got dressed, and stumbled down, bleary-eyed.

Ten minutes later he came back upstairs.

"Why didn't you just tell them to open the garage, and start on the back wall?"
"Because I don't speak Spanish."
"Well, they were speaking English to me."

Whaaaaa?
They were playing DUMB with me??

Back that bus up.

Sam started out speaking Spanish, and that broke the ice, I guess, and made them remember that they really do understand and speak the English language.

It made me mad. So I left. I wandered around Target, and Costco, and the local scrapbook store. And then stopped in my Mom's house to kill more time.

And when I came home, the insulation was done.

And I have some new dishcloths and a pair of shoes and some Fancy Pants chipboard letters.


Que tenga un buen día!

Dirt Cheap.

I can't see how they would be making any money with these prices...

If you have ever been curious about the Clikit (an eyelet setting tool) now is the time to buy one. Last year they came out with the Jumbo eyelets (on clearance too) and the Jumbo adapter. Didn't think I would be doing eyelets again, but I love the huge ones! They have sayings around the perimeter.

Here is the link:

http://www.scrapbookpaper.com/tek9.asp?pgID=4&pg=products&grp=633

Don't forget to check out what is left of the mini-chipboard albums. (For $1.50!)
Here:
http://www.scrapbookpaper.com/tek9.asp?pgID=&pg=products&pbk=1&grp=373


If your order is over fifty bucks, the whole thing ships free. I hate paying for shipping...

Happy Shopping, heh, heh.

Imaginisce

I have been doing a few layouts for the Imaginisce booth at Memory Trends. I really love working with their product. Lots of shiny embellishments, perfect for my inner squirrel!

Want to see?

So...that is what I have been up to. I have completed 67 layouts in about three weeks. Last night I designed a mini-album for a class, and today I am waiting for a package so I can design a calendar. You know what? As much as I love it...

...If I don't happen to see a paper trimmer until the CHA Winter rush in December, I don't think I will be sad.

Socks.

I used to have a few pairs of those bootie socks with pom-poms on the back, right where your heel goes. It was in Junior High, and quite fashionable, I believe. Of course, this was right during the height of LA Gear High-top popularity, and it was such a bad mix.

I remember hitting gym, and I either stuffed the pom-poms into the high-top, thus causing a painful lump right over my Achilles tendon, or I would simply and sadly yank the pom-pom off. This caused another major problem...When I would run, the stupid bootie sock, stripped of apparently the only elastic woven into it (when the pom-pom was severed) would gradually slide down into the shoe, and end up being balled up towards my toe. It still makes me frustrated just thinking about it. I called them creepers.

Sometimes I didn't even have clean socks to wear. Growing up in a family of five girls, anything left unattended was fair game. Bra's, shirts, chocolate, and yes, socks.

And we wore the socks, until literally I think they disintegrated into a puff of lint. What I hated more than the creepers were the quitters. The socks that lost the elastic up top, and when you walked, would creep down your leg, and hang out the bottoms of your pegged jeans. Pull them up...Down they slide. Pull, slide, pull, slide. All day long. Some genious that had a drawer full of quitters, started the "roll two nested pairs of socks down to the top of your LA Gears", just make sure they exactly match your off the shoulder Flashdance sweatshirt.

This was the beginning of my sock obsession.

When I got my first job, I started buying Hanes Crew length white in those bulk packages. No sliding down. Enough elastic everywhere to gently cup your foot. I was in heaven. And I hid them, from my sisters.

There is nothing like a new pair of socks, right out of the package. No stains, or stretchy bulges. Thick cottony goodness. No quitters or creepers.

I still wear Hanes Crew length. When they start to show signs of quitting, I retire them. I know they aren't in style. Everyone else is wearing No-Show booties again.

HA! I scoff at you.

Irony.

Sam bought me an iPod for my birthday. I love this thing! I am an 80's girl to be sure, and I love that I can pour all my [now vintage] classics into a teeny portable player.

I picked up running again. Got me one of those [extra large] tourniquet-type arm straps, and go out almost every morning. Before you roll your eyeballs...keep reading...

I have not been a real fan of running. But then again, I don't like exercise in general. I wish I did. I wish I was like those people who loooove a good game of tennis or soft-ball. But I am not. I hate the sweating, and the being tired, and the little voice inside my head that says "this is stupid, just quit. For the love of PETE, QUIT." And I always listen to the voice--the same voice that thinks since cookies have eggs and milk and flour in them, they are a suitable breakfast item.

Since the iPod, I actually enjoy the running. The 80's tunes, the fresh air, the thinking and planning of the day. I am up to 3 miles. Which, really, isn't terrible. I mean, I am not ever going to do the marathon thing, so I am okay with 3 miles. I look forward to the running--and the playlists I make for the running.

So I am thinking this could be it. The exercise that I like to do. And I am feeling pretty pumped about it during mile two, and then...

...my knee blows out. Seriously. If I would have had my cell phone with me, I would have made someone come pick my dumb butt up. As it were, I had to limp home. All day long my knee has been in pain. Not serious, but that up and down stairs takes a long time pain. Getting old sucks.

Irony. That I struggle with exercise, but do it anyway, and I am fine. Then once I find something I like...I can't do it.

I think it is God's way of telling me to just stay fluffy.

SInce it is now up on the Karen Foster site....

I am going to sneak peek a couple of layouts I did using the brand new product that will debut at Memory Trends. The second is from the Little Girl collection. Pinky and happy. The first is from the funky new Christmas collection. You can see the rest of the collection as well as all the other new releases here:

http://http://www.karenfosterdesign.com/tek9.asp?pg=products

And if you happen upon the home page, they are featuring my layout. Thank you, thank you, I will be here all week....

I just finished up 36 layouts using nine of the new lines! Whew! And they went postal today. I hope they make it there, it was hard to part with my "babies." I would just die if that box got lost somewhere.

Major cleaning day here. Everything is in shambles since the scrapbooking frenzy. Things smell funky and everything.

Update on the house...we have a four-way inspection on Monday, when that passes, we get insulation and sheetrock! YAY! There is a light, a faint light, at the end of this sawdust spewing tunnel. Can't wait to get settled in. I am getting excited. I need to start picking out some cool paint combos---any suggestions?

I am still here.

This is sad on so many levels.

First of all, cause this is my current scrap space. A Lifetime folding banquet table. It is in the kitchen, right in the main drag.

I am feverishly working on Memory Trends deadlines. Occasionally I have to cook food for the others that live here, and then I am a nervous wreck...."DON'T YOU FLING THAT CARROT!" This I say huddled over my pile of sacred scraps. Most nights I try to get away with putting a vitamin in their pocket, and sending them out to see what the neighbors are having for dinner. Mommy has work to do! And Mommy's job sends us all on vacations.

The second sadness of the photo is that I have workers in and out of the house due to the never-ending remodel that is still going on. And I know, they think I am a lunatic. I get up, send the kids off, and start a project, then I break, shower, and I am at it again. I feel like I need to explain myself. This is my "job." Cutting and pasting and drinking Mountain Dew by the two liter bottle. This is my job. But I just don't say anything, unless they need to scoot my table-studio to reach something. Or drop sawdust on me.

The next sad thing about the picture is that what you are looking at was after I cleaned up. I am the worlds messiest. Period. Somewhere in that stack is a child I am sure, probably looking for that carrot.

Anyway, back at it. 24 down, and twelve more to go...and then another manufacturer. If I didn't love what I did, I would be overwhelmed...but it is so fun, to play with new product.

Love my job.

Some good signs.

You know that I collect pictures of signs that make us laugh when I travel, and San Diego provided us with a few. They *may* have just been funny to us, what with our fine nights sleep on a motel 6 bed/rock, the five arguing kids in the back of a van, and lack of caffeine.

We had many dirty jokes that centered around the "Tickled Trout." The hair place looks like something straight out of a SNL skit. And who, seriously is the stick figure artist, cause they are a guaranteed laugh almost every time.

Anyway, just thought I would share.

Just a quick note.

I am still here, and alive and well. I guess I am not well, actually. I have a stupid cold thing, sinus, sneezing watery eyes, sore throat and body aches.

I am hoping I've contracted the West Nile Virus, cause I heard they are paying big bucks for people who have lived through that, and can give blood for them to study. HA!

Anyway....we got back from San Diego yesterday. More fun than you can shake a stick at. Whatever that means.

The kids! First time on a plane.
First time on a beach.
Good stuff.

I took a lot of pictures which need editing, and I am just starting the mad rush of layout assignments for Memory Trends, so please bear with me while I ignore this blog for a bit.


For your boredom relief...one of my favorite time-wasting sites.

http://www.husnain.com/budlight.htm

Might I suggest, in honor of my recent trip to the beach..."Mr. Paranoid of the Ocean Guy." Cause that is me, a little frightened of what lies beneath emphasized by the tickly sea grass.

TV watching.

Sam watches golf on TV every Sunday.

There really is nothing worse. And it goes on….and on….When they break for commercials, he switches the channel to the Bowling tournament. (Oh yes. He does.)

Sometimes I make dirty comments. (whispering like those stupid commentators) “Oooo, looks like he used his steel shaft for that hole” (polite clapping) Heh, heh. Sam is never amused.

One day, I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Honey, is something else on?”
“Like what?”
“Anything.”
“I want to watch this.”

“Well, don’t you think if we are both watching TV together, maybe we could try to find something we are both interested in. I never watch TV, the least you could do is find a movie or something?”

“Are you kidding me? Did you happen to forget the YEAR you were obsessed with Trading Spaces, and never once did I complain when I had to watch that freak Frank sponge-paint whimsical borders or that ding-dong Doug and his big nose. (Good gads…he knew their names…) And just last week I didn’t say a word when you subjected me to a RIVETING hour long COOKIE BAKE-OFF on the Food Network! The Food Network….”(shaking head in disbelief)

Touché.

Labor Day weekend.

We went on an impromptu camping trip for labor day weekend. We dragged my mom and dad along with us.

We went to a spot up American Fork Canyon called Forest Lake. It is accessible only by off-road vehicles. We had to take the Jeep up. My husband, and my kids love taking the Jeep. Sam goes every year to Jeep Safari weekend in Moab. They love it!

I don't like the Jeep. I hate my hair in my face and my eyes and my mouth. I can't take the dust and the heat. But more than that, I don't like the hairy trails that we go on. And really, I don't understand why Sam felt compelled to take this trip. His Jeep isn't fixed from his last fiasco. It is technically only a two wheel drive right now, and with some thing-a-ma-bob he put on the wheels, it is only a one wheel drive. He explained the thing-a-ma-bob to me in great detail, and for survival purposes I blocked him out. Jeep talk is worse than an insurance salesman droning on....and on....and on....


Sure enough, about half way there, Sam scraped over a boulder and dropped his driveline. After we got it fixed, we had my dad tow us through the rest of the bad spots. Don't tell Sam I told you that. Somehow, being towed by someone else is damaging to your manhood.

We got there, and my mom and I threw tinfoil dinners in the fire while the men set up the tent. The tinfoil dinners were good. At least most of them. A couple were a little over-cooked and the meat was "butt-hard"--Jayden, 10.

One roasted hot-dog per year is all my arteries will allow.
Nothing like a good toasted marshmallow, though. I ate plenty of those.

They proceeded to blow up the air mattresses, one of which had a hole. Heeeeere is your bed, kids! Heh, heh. We went to bed, not to sleep, but to freeze all night...The joys. Not to mention, when Sam rolled over, it would literally fling me, and sharing a sleeping bag with a man is never recommended--what with the fondling and the gas.

The next morning the kids put their swimming suits on and waded all day in the disease infested puddle of a lake. It is quite pretty from a distance, but when you get closer, it is thick and green, and full of these slimy hideous creatures. We called them newts, but some other little boy who was there with his family called them salamanders. I am not really sure what they are. They were half fish and half lizard. So glad I brought hand sanitizer and wipes.

"Mom, here is how you catch a newt. You look at the water, and you see it turn into rings, then you look in the middle of the rings, and there will be a newt, wobbling. Then you can just grab it, it won't try to escape, cause they are kinda dumb."--Shayne, 7.

I am not a clean freak by any means. But one day and one night of camping is all I can muster. The next morning I was packing up as soon as I got up. All I kept thinking of was a hot shower. I am so not pioneer material. Neither is my mom. She hadn't been camping for 20 years. It had only been about 10 for me. I don't think either one of us is sad about what we might have missed out on all these years.

So, today...I am still doing the laundry from the camping trip. Shianne left her good leather sandals "behind that tall gray rock." I am still digesting that hot dog, and I still have dirt in my nose, which manifests itself each time I blow.

Good holiday weekend fun had by almost all.

My collection.

I don't know what any of this crap is.

You know, the whole house remodel thing is still going on. And each time one of the subs leave, I go around and try to tidy up a bit. I throw away their half-empty drink bottles, and lunch wrappers, and occasionally I find something to add to my collection, part of which is above. I don't know what any of it is. I don't know if it is important, or if I should be concerned that it wasn't replaced where it originally belonged. I just toss it all into "the box", which is becoming quite heavy.

I am discouraged. I am sick of nothing working. I am tired of plugging my curling iron into a shop light cord. My garbage disposal used to be on a switch, now that switch turns on a light, and I have no idea which switch will flip the disposal on. Each time I flip a switch or turn on water it is a crap shoot. I never know what is going on.

My washer was a disaster. It was hooked up, which was great considering the kids had resorted to wearing things out of my closet. "It's ready to go" they told me. So I waited until everyone left to unveil the embarrassing heaping pile of filth. I loaded the machine, and off it went! Granted, there is no hot water hooked up, but cold is good, when you are desperate.

I am sitting next to the machine, fascinated that it really is working and then, it begins to drain. And it sounds funny...but then again, I have never sat next to the machine listening to it work. And the water level rises, and I can hear it bubble up, and then it comes spewing out of a hole in the wall. I turn the valve off, and lift the lid of the machine, and call Sam.

"Dude. The washer just flooded the basement."
"Are you kidding?"
"Yeah, not much else going on tonight"

So I have to leave it, until the next day when he can look at it. Apparently when the line is installed it has a plug in it, that needs to be removed upon inspection.

Remember when they told me "It's ready to go?"

I guess in man-talk, that is not a literal phrase. That means, theoretically it *could* go, but needs more work before it WON'T FLOOD YOUR BASEMENT.