Can someone please explain this to me?

Ethanol.

Where is the logic in leaving the oil in the earth and burning our crops instead? 

Seriously.

Oh the weather outside is frightful!

And if there were a fire inside, it would be so delightful. 

Instead, I shall delight in Kramer doing his business outside in the snow.  He's never seen anything quite like this.  So cute!

I just love watching Kramer bounding through the snow.  What got him to run back into the house was me yelling "dinner!"  He's a such sucker for dinnertime.

What a cool post-Christmas treat!

Have I mentioned I'm getting married?

I have to admit, I'm a bit peeved that I just typed three well-thought out paragraphs and they all disappeared.  Grrr.  The idea of it all is that I am making the best decision of my life.  I shall spend my life with an honorable, funny, sweet, tender-hearted man who is in tune with the Spirit and loves the Lord.  Life is good.  I love Danny White and I get to marry him!  Oh, and he gets to marry me too.  Ain't love grand?!

I love that he leads his life by what feels right and by what is right.  I love that he reads scriptures in the middle of his work day when he doesn't have a whole lot going on.  I love that he is a great dad to his two sons.  I love that he knows just how to hug me and hold me tight when I feel down or am having a teary day for whatever reason.  I love that he is willing to play Trivial Pursuit with me or watch Jeopardy! at any given time.  I love that he likes to say the blessing at dinner.  He is good, and he is mine. 

Where Were You When...

I'm not a hugely political individual.  I'm rather simple and plain in my beliefs.  I believe the Constitution was divinely inspired.  I believe that it will be challenged and torn in incredibly sad ways...and that it's happening now.  I also believe that the Priesthood will save it, because modern prophets have told us so.  I believe in truth, liberty and justice for all.  I believe the land on which we live is the Promised Land, and will remain so as long as we, the people, treat it as such.  Well, it's not difficult to see that we aren't treating it as such, and so many of us have forgotten, or have chosen to not acknowledge that we are children of Heavenly parents who loved us enough to bless us with this land.  Sigh.  In other words, my political beliefs are absolutely intertwined with my spiritual and religious beliefs.

There is a rally going on in DC tomorrow called Restore Honor.  It was organized by Glenn Beck.  It isn't a political rally.  It's to honor our military and other honorable individuals in our country.  There will be three awards/merit medals given out & the recipients have yet to be revealed.  I'm intrigued.  Because Mr. Beck is such a "controversial" character/host/voice, the nature of the honor rally has been twisted into a whole host of ungodly events by those who have forgotten who we are or refuse to acknowledge who we are and where we come from.  Double sigh.  I've been wanting to attend this rally to simply be a part of something bigger than myself, honorable, and journal-worthy.  I wanted my mom to go with me and she wanted to go too, but my step-dad won't let her go out of fear that the crazies will be rampant and we'll be harmed.  Perhaps he's right.  Dan won't go with me because he has stuff to do and he simply leaves all of his political notions in the voting booth.  I don't want to go by myself, but if I did go, it would not be the first time I've done a big thing on my own.  I'm a big girl.  I know how to put on my big girl panties and just do it.  But for right now, I'm left with a big choice. 

**It's now around 9 o'clock on the morning of the rally.  I began this around 11 p.m. the night before.  I was tired and frustrated, and just went to bed instead.**

The missionaries called Thursday evening inviting Dan & myself to a bbq at the stake president's house.  The bbq is for the missionaries and their investigators, and it will be held at 5 o'clock on Saturday afternoon.  If I were to attend the rally up in DC, then I would not be back in time to attend the bbq.  Now, I'm not a huge fan of attending events where I'm expected to be social with people I do not know.  I actually am a little shy that way.  A huge rally where there are tens of thousands of people is less frightening to me than a backyard bbq with 25 people and I need to mingle.  Eeek.  In any case, my choices are plainly either attend the big rally that I have longed to attend, or stay home and perhaps go to the bbq with Dan & make it another good missionary moment for him. 

Thursday night I stayed up very late.  I didn't go to bed until nearly 4 a.m.  (If I were to choose to go to the rally, the bus would leave at 4 a.m. Saturday, so a goofy sleep schedule somehow was making strange sense to me at the time)  I had dvr'd the Glenn Beck program that day just so I could see what's going on, or what's in store for the rally.  I don't religiously watch the show, so when I do catch it, I find it ever interesting.  The day's guest was Alveda King, the niece of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.  She is a tremendous woman.  I loved the message and peace she carried with her.  She will be speaking at the rally.  Hmm.  Well, in the middle of the night I was still unsure of what I should do regarding rally or missionary bbq.  I decided right then to pause the show and get down on my knees and ask my father in Heaven what I should do. 

I am certain that both are good choices.  I am certain given whichever option I choose, that I will wonder what the other option would've been like.  That's just who I am.  But I felt peaceful after my prayer.  I was confident that I would have an answer.  I again began watching the show and continued listening to Dr. King's words.  At one point when the host & guest were discussing the enormity of the event and day, Mr. Beck tossed out the question that we may be asked one day in the future, "where were you on 8/28?"  I heard this question once or twice before and only pondered the event itself, the largeness of it all, the message of the day.  This time, I actually heard my inner voice say "with Dan having a good missionary experience." 

My choice has been made.  I am happy with my decision.  I am at peace with my decision.  I am wondering about the Restoring Honor rally today, and wishing some way that I could still be there, but I'm okay with it.  I did just learn that it will be televised on Facebook today, but I have an obligation at 10 o'clock now, and guess what time the rally starts.  Yep, 10 a.m.  Oh well.  All is well, all is well.

Real Men Do Eat Quiche

Especially when you tell them it's Breakfast Egg Pie.

1 deep dish frozen pie shell

9 large eggs

1/3 cup milk or cream

1/4 pound Canadian bacon

1 T. finely diced red onion

1 cup shredded cheese...your favorite will suffice

2 T. flour

1 cup diced tomato minus the goo/seeds

2 T. light cream cheese

pinch of salt

freshly ground pepper

Preheat oven to 350* and take the pie shell out of its wrapper & allow to defrost just a wee.  In a mixing bowl blend together the eggs, milk, salt, and pepper.  Whisk in the onion, tomato, and diced meat.  

In another bowl, add the shredded cheese and flour.  Mix well, then stir into the egg mixture; pour into the pie shell.  Make sure that the tomatoes, meat, and onions appear to be evenly (or at least prettily) arranged toward the surface of the quiche/pie.  Next, take the cream cheese by 1/2 teaspoonfuls and dollop around the top of the egg mixture in a pretty, even pattern.  

Bake for 35 minutes at 350 then turn off the oven but leave in for about 10-15 minutes more.  The center should just barely be set.  Allow to sit for at least 10-15 minutes before cutting and enjoying.

Yields 6 slices.  

(Un)INSPI(RED)

Two months ago, my mom asked me to help her with something for one of the Beehives in her YW group. This young woman's name is Rachel. I had the pleasure of meeting her once. She will be 13 later this month. She is kind, she's pretty, and she is rather sporty. She hates pink. She hates all things girly. She will be the only girl from her ward going to YW Camp this year and my mom wanted to make sure she isn't "forgotten." Nowadays, they have "mail bags" for the girls. People from their wards, their families, etc. create letters, notes, what-have-you for these mail bags. I told my mom I'd be happy to help.

I haven't been that happy while helping.

I have hit a creativity wall. I am so uninspired. I don't like what I've been producing. I think I've lost my mojo. In any case, I did produce a couple things thus far. I must get them in the mail today or tomorrow to my mom too. Two months prep time, and many hours thinking about these things have amounted to not so much. I've been quite stumped trying to not be so girly in my creativity. I am kinda girly! The products I have to use are mostly girly...or at least tend to lean on the feminine side of life. Oh bother! I do believe I made this task more difficult than it ever needed to be. This is not my best work. Not even close. But here it is. And it's just as well...it's not like Rachel's gonna live or die because of it. It's just a little something so she knows she's not forgotten and that she is most definitely loved.

Don't Cry Over Spilled Milk

When I was about 5 years old, my brother Andy and I were in the kitchen and he spilled a glass of Kool-Aid or milk or water or something. I don't remember exactly which beverage it was, but I do remember what happened after the spill.


Quickly, Andy grabbed a dish towel and started soaking up what had dripped down from the counter top. He began at the floor but couldn't keep up. This is where my dad stepped in. I remember Dad calling Andy out for being too stupid to start at the counter top where the spill had originated. By leaving the top of the mess alone and cleaning up what was dripping to the floor, Andy was in a sense just chasing his tail. Andy's method of cleaning instantly changed, and the spill was no more. All was well in the Lester kitchen again.

Most of the time when my dad was mean and rude about his "lessons," the lesson learned was simply that he was mean and rude. A few times though, the lesson he intended to instill actually sunk into at least one of us. At the tender age of five, I learned how to clean up a spill. I learned to stop the leak at the source. This has grown into another lesson of treating the cause, not just the symptoms. As an adult, I see so many occasions where this lesson should've been put to use by the powers that be, but sadly those powers must be a seven year old Andy themselves.


Today is Day 71 in the Gulf Oil Spill courtesy of BP. I'm not even going to attempt to apply any of my life lessons to this one yet. I will apply the spill lesson of my life to Border Control though. "Comprehensive immigration reform" must occur according to everyone. There is not a single citizen who could argue with that point. The argument is when it should occur. Border control is needed like the deserts need rain, but the current and even past administrations have no intention to do address this problem logically.


[Sidenote] The immigration debate is not new to me. I spent a lot of years in Arizona and there wasn't a day that went by where I wasn't directly impacted by an illegal immigrant. I knew that when Filiberto's had a CLOSED sign up, it meant that ICE had been there cracking down on illegals. I love my Filiberto's carne asada burrito and I love the notion of a 24-hour Mexican drive-up. The fastest service always came from Mexican restaurants that were over-staffed by most other restaurant standards. Most of the staff "surplus" never hit the books. They didn't sign the guestbook on the way in to the U.S. either.


[Another sidenote] My friend Juanita who was part of the custodial staff in the building where my office often talked to me about the climate of her job. Juanita is a citizen of the U.S. She works very hard for her money. She works very hard for too little money though. Because there are so many illegal people willing to work as hard as she does but for so much less money, Juanita's worth is lessened...monetarily speaking. This was very frustrating for her. She couldn't understand why these people refused to "pay their dues" and become citizens properly...the way Juanita's parents did so many years ago. It's a good question. My guess, though, is that if people are never expected to answer for their misdoings, then their misdeeds shall continue.

How my 5 year old lesson applies: once the border is secured (the spill on the counter) then the immigration reform can take place (cleaning up the rest of the spilled mess). We will never be able to catch up with all of the illegals if they're allowed to continue to just spill into our country. We must fix the border first, and then deal with the rest of the mess on the floor. It's a 5 year old's lesson...this one really isn't hard. It saddens me deeply that the integrity of our nation's borders are being compromised not only by the people crossing the fences & sneaking through the deserts, but by politicians who have more to personally gain by not doing the right thing. (Perhaps I'll go into that one more another time.)

So there ya have it. All apologies for the poor writing. I've had many distractions while writing, and at a certain point I just wanted to make my point. Perhaps it was made, but I can't even think about that now. I have to somehow find out if my dog did in fact eat the 6 or 7 tampon applicators or if he just hid them throughout the house. Gross.

'Til they shine like the top of the Chrysler Building!

I just spent nearly two hours dust-mopping, sweeping, vacuuming, and mopping my house. I feel very good about this. This is the first house I've lived in that had no carpet; every room is either tile or laminate flooring. It's great for keeping the house cooler and it's pretty. The long hallway provides endless laughs when Kramer chases after his ball...think Scooby Doo legs. Anyway, it always feels good to break a serious sweat from cleaning. I broke that sweat and then some today.

I like keeping house. I'm not that great at it, but it's a good feeling and I get a sense of pride in a clean, nice-smelling home. When I was done mopping, I drank from my cold bottle of water and thought to myself 'good job...now if only you had a small child napping, life would be just about perfect.' Sigh. I have no babies, but I do have hope. And Kramer. For now, life is good...and I have clean floors.

Hanging on the family room wall of my childhood was a decoration that my mom had embroidered. There was a woman rocking a baby in a chair. Her hair was in a bun, and all looked peaceful. Up in the corner of this wall-hanging was an embroidered spider in her web. The following poem was embroidered on it as well...

Cleaning and scrubbing can wait til tomorrow

For babies grow up

We've learned to our sorrow

So quiet down cobwebs

Dust go to sleep

I'm rocking my baby

And babies don't keep

I believe that was my most favorite thing on any wall growing up. It was confirmation that my mother felt tenderness for her babies. My mom never was a lovey-dovey kind of mom. She did not express traditional affection toward us. She was good to us, but hugs, kisses, and I love you's were never the norm. I remember my dad saying that when it came to babies, he never knew a mother who loved her babies more than my mom loved hers. But as we grew, the affection withdrew. I don't know why. Maybe she was embarrassed. Maybe because her folks weren't so affectionate with her she just didn't know how to be affectionate with us. I guess it doesn't really matter. I know she loves me. She now tells me everytime I talk to her that she loves me. And in any case, I love my mom. She is very special to me. And when I try to remember my mom loving me as a kid, I always remember this wall-hanging. She couldn't always tell me to my face, but she could tell me with a poem hanging in the family room. We all know that cleanliness is next to Godliness, but being a mother is Godliness.

Money Laundering

I received a much deserved commission check from EQR recently. Truthfully, I didn't expect to receive it. I figured the powers that be would eliminate the trail of my work and just make my commissions go away. There hadn't been too much decency and integrity on the power's part thus far, so it wasn't too large of a leap to figure there would be no 90-day "pipeline" on which to be paid. I was wrong...thankfully!

Yesterday Dan & I were going to head out to get a couple bulbs for my car to pass its inspection. I took my paycheck from underneath the Duran Duran magnet on the fridge and put it in my pocket. I figured we'd run over to Auto Zone and I could just run to BofA real quick to deposit my check. Well, Dan decided to take out the bulbs that were no good from my car to take to Auto Zone. I suggested the store had a reference guide & we wouldn't need to, but he's the man and I believe in him. An hour and 15 minutes later, we went to Auto Zone. The gentleman behind the counter used his reference and gave us the exact part number & aisle number for the bulbs needed to make Liesl properly illuminate again. Hooray!

We went home and put in the bulbs. We did not go to the bank. It was getting late and I didn't want to push it. I'm grateful for all the Danny does for me so going to the bank is something I can just do on my own. We decided to settle in and watch a movie. Dan insisted that it was my night to choose whatever movie I wanted. I chose Muriel's Wedding. Oh how I love that one! He actually enjoyed it...as well he should! After the show, I got in the shower & Dan got in bed. I needed that good long hot shower. Ahhh...I need a good long hot bath though. More on that another day.

Sleep was good. I'm on my period, so I slept in this morning. Once up, I decided I needed to be somewhat useful around here. I decided to start some laundry. I did a load of jeans. My new denim crops totally ripped and I wanted to wash them before I take them back to Lame Giant. Anyway, to make a short story long, I washed the check that was still in yesterday's jeans pocket. Damage!!!

It didn't occur to me until around the time that Dan came home. I was teary & generally feeling plain old stupid. Of course he comforted me with hugs and assurance. He advised I call Payroll/H.R. and simply get it reissued. I knew that's what I was going to have to do, but it just felt good to hear it from him while in the middle of a hug.

About 5 minutes later, Lil came over to bring us some mail. Dan received something from the I.R.S. I joked it was probably a notice that he's being audited. Well, the joke was on me: he is being audited. Since Deb-b hasn't claimed any of the alimony he's paid, they're questioning the legitimacy of him claiming $14400 in alimony payments on his taxes. (My personal paycheck mood had been lightened by this point.) Because Dan is The Good Guy, he has paid alimony faithfully and has a perfect paper trail. It will be quite simple for him to get through this audit. Deb-b's proverbial goose is about to be cooked. Bah!!!