away

I'm off on a blog sabbatical.

Regular programming will continue Wednesday July (?!?) 1st.

reveal

Here is my Kimball in all his glory. He's obviously missing his "covers" in these photos but it's fun to see the guts. (Wow, that sentence is funny out of context.) You can see we have a lot of work ahead of us, thus the lovely floral "drop cloth."

A peek under Kimball's lid reveals... (we will leave this intact)

Did I mention Kimball didn't come with a bench? Enter improv:

kiesel

I'm at Camp Kiesel with my cubs today. I may not survive the experience. If I don't, I leave my scrapbooking stuff to Allie, my clothes to the needy, and my piggy bank collection to Malan and Jane (I hear they like pigs - see comments). Greg, I leave you all my love and whatever funds you get from hawking my stuff. Kimball, I wish we could have had more time together. I would have changed you from the ugly girl to the hot girl who was actually the ugly girl without her glasses.



Here's hoping no one shoots their eye out!

kimball

Our 1969* Kimball piano made it safely home last night. No pictures yet; our camera batteries were dead. The previous owner had started to strip the finish for an update so we have a big project ahead of us. It needs to be tuned but is still playable and has one key that sticks. Overall, not too shabby.

I thoroughly enjoyed playing it last night although I need to snag more of my old piano books from Mom's stash :)

Thanks Greg, Dad, Bob, and Mom for your help getting my baby home.



*This is my best estimate with the research I've done so far.

time off

It's so nice to not worry about make-up. Maybe a little concealer for the trouble spots and powder for the t-zone and call it quits. My lashes and lids love the break.

Today is one of those days. Ahhhhh. I could throw-in The Boy in the Striped Pajamas or Marley and Me without fear of a smudge.

I guess it's practice for camping this weekend in the Uintas. Can't wait for that mountain air.

retraction

Dear KSL Classifieds,

Maybe you're not so bad after all. The guy with the free piano just called and said he still has it. Until tonight that is. When I pick it up. Ok, my husband, dad and brother will really be the ones hefting the thing, but I will be there for support :)

I think I love you KSL Classifieds. That may or may not be contingent on the piano's condition.

xoxoxo,
Wendy

june

I'm worried about June. I know I shouldn't say such things but I think she might have bipolar disorder. Ever since she came for her yearly visit it's been a yo-yo game of crying, cheering, sobbing, smiling, weeping, dancing, etc. There have been moments of audible grumbling which lead to full-on sparks. Other times she seems cheery enough to approach but her outlook changes in a flash leaving me standing in the run-off of her tears.

I've told her there's no need to bathe herself in her own tears; we can handle the spike in our water bill. She didn't think that was very funny.

Today is looking good so far but you just never know when June comes for a visit. She came to work with me today and let's just say I packed an umbrella, just in case.

Cheer up dear June, July will visit soon.

rodent

Dear KSL Classifieds,

We have a real love/hate thing going, don't we? I love you when you get things sold fast (like Greg's wakeboard) or when you let me buy things for a reasonable price (like my road bike). I hate, however, when you tease me with a free piano that I really want and it appears I won't get. Now I have no choice but to buy a baby chinchilla to cheer myself up. Thanks a lot KSL Classifieds.

Love/Hate,

Wendy

luck

Sometimes I say "lucky" when I should say "blessed." It's not that I don't know it wasn't me that made something good happen, and it's not that I'm afraid to admit it, so what is it?

Greg rode his bike to work this morning. This means he got there early as compared to when he waits to ride (in the car) with me and ends up getting there, well, not early. I was in the process (trust me, it's a process) of doing my hair when I realized my keys and phone were both in the car. Seeing as we are in the habit of locking our car, I panicked. It's just a pain to walk to the neighbors' and borrow their phone to call Greg who then must borrow someone's vehicle to bring me his keys to open the door to the car so I can get my keys (That sounds like a pain, right?). I stopped mid-flat iron stroke hoping against hope that Greg hadn't locked the car doors after he backed it out of the garage for me (a story for another day).

The doors were open.

[Text to Greg] We are lucky today! I just realized my keys and phone are in the car and, luckily, you hadn't locked the door.

[Greg's reply] Wow. That is lucky

[My reply] No joke.

(Sidenote: Yes, I punctuate like that in text messages.)

As soon as I hit send on the last message, I thought, "Come on Wendy, you know that wasn't luck." I do know it wasn't "luck" and I didn't really mean it when I typed it. Why didn't I say what I knew it was? Blessed.

I knelt in prayer.

steps

I ran (Correction: JOGGED, verrrry slooooowly) 1/2 mile Saturday morning and 3/4 mile yesterday without pain in my knee. It's kind of a big deal. I guess good things can happen when you do what your doctor says :)

As for today? I'm taking the day off.

I guess this is how a slug feels.

two

It's going to be a long two days (Greg is at scout camp). I already miss him. Pathetic? We usually e-mail back and forth a bit throughout the day at work and it always makes the day go by faster. I tell him something funny a coworker said, he sends me a link to a ridiculous news story. I send him a quote from Kung Fu Panda, he replies with one from The Office. That's true love for you folks.

How do I console myself under such conditions? I already treated myself to lunch (Mexican, of course, since Greg won't touch it) and I plan on taking a long bubble bath tonight while I continue a re-read of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (refresher before the movie). Maybe this isn't so bad after all...

oink

What happened to the swine flu hysteria? Is it bad that I honestly hoped someone I knew would get it? Just for bragging rights, of course. I've been waiting my whole life to see a pig fly and all for naught :) What can I say?-I have always had a thing for pigs, or so my piggy bank collection would reveal.

My favorite part of this epidemic was the World Health Organization trying to get people to call the flu by its "real name": Influenza A(H1N1) or H1N1 for short. H1N1? As my ever so clever younger brother pointed out, doesn't that look like it spells "hiney?" I'm pretty sure no one will admit to having the "hiney flu"...

Oh the irony - I just picked up today's paper (Standard-Examiner) and the top article is about swine flu.

pills

I don't like pills very much. The result is I'm not good at taking them. It's not the remembering to take them part I have a problem with but the actual swallowing part. I think the dislike stems from several things: watching other athletes in high school become completely dependent on pills, hearing about a friend overdosing on pills (on purpose), and viewing first-hand the results of a parent of a friend abusing prescription drugs. I want none of that. On a less serious note, I just like to chew things. It's almost as if my throat refuses to swallow without chewing first. I don't do well with lollipops as you might have guessed. I fear I will never learn how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie roll pop.

The one pill I regularly take is really tiny and I considered it an accomplishment when I mastered taking it with only water. (My Mom will attest to the fact that this is simply amazing.) Now I take another pill and it's big. It's an anti-inflammatory for my left knee that's giving me problems after five pain-free years. It doesn't help that I almost cry everytime I have to take it with the reminder that I haven't been able to run for the last three weeks. There goes my summer racing plans! Don't remind me :(

The moral of the story is, taking pills usually means there's something wrong with me and who wants that? My throat hurts.

islands

As I type this my Greg is taking the next step to big boydom. The GMAT. When he's done, I'm taking him to lunch and then it's off the Layton to turn in his application for business school. The big boy business school. The one where they give you an MBA. If you're good. If you're not good I think you get a lollipop. I recently bought a five-pound bag of lollipops so Greg wouldn't be tempted by the offer.

He's been studying his brains big for weeks and (pardon the cheese) I'm really proud of him. I know good and well he's not doing this just for him but rather for what it will do for us and our future (we would like it to be a good one).

This is where you come in. You see, Greg going to school full-time + working full-time will mean we won't get much "free" time together. So we've decided to go on a fun trip before the madness begins. We're thinking of a cruise since neither of us have been and everyone loves all-you-can-eat. I need input from anyone who has been on a cruise. Where should we go? Which cruise line should we go on? ETC.

Thank you in advance for your much appreciated input. (I work in Marketing, remember?)

Back by popular demand

Yes Allie, I am alive.
I have at least four drafts of really excellent posts sitting in my queue (several date back to March *gasp*). Why haven't I finished and posted any of them? I have a problem. I get grand ideas that require lots of time to flesh out to their full potential (aka "post worthiness"). The result? As far as you can tell, nothing. The reality? I obsess over the best way to say what I'm thinking/feeling/experiencing until I burst from over-analyzation (more about this later). Then, when I regain strength to revisit the idea, I've lost the fire for its blogific presentation.

So, what's a girl to do? Lower my expectations? Give up altogether? Maybe I can have neither. And so, I present Wendy's Blog Bits (working title). This means forcing, when necessary, myself to post something about what I'm obsessing over. Be it the beginning of an idea or a complete thought, you'll find it here. Scary, right?

Let me warn you in advance, I have lots of bits to expose. That wasn't meant to be provocative, unless you're my husband. Sorry Mom-I know you're reading this.