the quack shack

Ten Minute Tuesday: Cheers and Tears

superquack6@q.com (Sue Q) — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 16:27:00 +0000

Watch this:

Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy

Okay, then watch this: (and I understand that if this video gets over a million hits, the hospital gets money for their breast cancer awareness clinic or something like that. So watch it again and again and again and again....)

Oh, but be sure to grab a box of Kleenex or a roll of toilet paper and keep it handy. (Maybe I should have said that first.)

So much to be thankful for. Happy Thanksgiving to one and all.

After all, November is Voting Month

superquack6@q.com (Sue Q) — Thu, 19 Nov 2009 06:01:00 +0000

People, I need your help. Our family pictures came in and I am stumped!! I posted one of my favorites at the top of the blog, and the girls' pictures are sampled over there on the right, but that's only a fraction of the hundreds of pictures we had to choose from! Seriously, our wonderful photographer went a little crazy and we have way too many proofs that we love. So I'm asking you to check them out and tell me which pictures you think we should turn into 8x10's to add to our family photo shrine since I can't afford one of each!

So... according to Facebook, anyone can view this album of pictures if you click on this link:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=31327&id=1634366190&l=b518bf233a

If you are a Facebooker, then add me as a friend or whatever and check out the album. If you are not a Facebooker, then try this link, but if for whatever reason it doesn't work, I still value your opinion. Make something up, just to reassure me that you care.

Glutton for Punishment

superquack6@q.com (Sue Q) — Tue, 17 Nov 2009 15:37:00 +0000

Impatience:

Burning the taste buds off your tongue because you simply cannot wait for the aebleskivers to cool down. (As the breakfast chef, I have to be quick, otherwise I don't get any until everybody else is full, and it takes a long time to make enough to satisfy my family's appetite for these little babies.)

Ignorance:

Sushi for lunch, with a BIG GOB of wasabe on the side. Not only did I burn another layer of skin off my tongue, I think I lost a layer on my eyeballs. And steam puffing out my ears.

Idiocy:

Tacos for dinner. Need I say more?

I know I'm a glutton for punishment. Okay, maybe just a glutton. I love food. All kinds of food. From every walk of life. No, wait -- strike that. I can handle pretty much anything except Indian food. But can someone please explain to me how it is possible that I can love wasabe (within reason!) but cannot handle curry? Go figure...

I also don't go for the obscure stuff, like cow brains or pig ears or llama intestines or anything else the Amazing Race gets away with forcing down their team members. That kind of stuff is just plain gross, weird, wrong and ridiculous. And they know it, of course, otherwise they wouldn't get the ratings and the big bucks. But watching people choke down deep fried cockroaches is not my idea of entertainment...

So back to the original conundrum: I refuse to be a glutton. Next week begins the frenzy of feasting for the next month and a half, and with all the turkey dinners, plus all the trimmings, fudge, fruitcake, candy canes, cocoa and cookie exchanges, I want to know what everybody's secret is going to be for not gaining fifty pounds. Since hybernating is not an acceptable or practical practice for most adults, I'd like to still fit into my jeans come January. (Better yet, I'd love to have them baggy and falling off my hips, but that's a little too much to ask Santa for this year.)

So....what's your game plan, people?

Hello, snowflake fans! It's that time of year again...

superquack6@q.com (Sue Q) — Tue, 17 Nov 2009 03:49:00 +0000

I have had an influx of visitors in the past few days, in search of the perfect snowflake. So just for fun, I've repositioned my snowflake collection at the top of the blog for easy access. By all means,

COPY THEM ALL TO YOUR HEART'S DELIGHT!

SHARE THEM!

MAKE MILLIONS OF THEM!

COVER THE WORLD WITH SNOWFLAKE CONFETTI!

It's never too early to get in the Christmas mood, as far as I'm concerned. Happy cutting! Be sure to post pictures on your own blogs of your finished product!

Who is this man and what have you done with my husband

superquack6@q.com (Sue Q) — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 19:31:00 +0000

Last night, my husband went to a mall.

He went Christmas shopping.

And he enjoyed it.

Either the world is coming to an end, or aliens have abducted my husband and taken over his body.

Two minute Tuesday: Exercise Tip of the Day

superquack6@q.com (Sue Q) — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 21:43:00 +0000

I have invented a new form of aerobic exercise, and it is guaranteed to help you burn the maximum amount of calories in the shortest amount of time possible.

1. Give a young child three glasses of juice to drink.
2. Take the child to the park.
3. Play hard for half an hour.
4. Run home in two minutes flat when the child announces she has to go potty.

The results can only be improved when the child has a play date, and all three kids have to go potty at the same time. It is far more effective than calling the Parks and Recreation department, demanding why they removed the Porta Potty.

Try this at home! And if you don't have any small children, you can borrow mine!

Good Grief

superquack6@q.com (Sue Q) — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 17:01:00 +0000

I know of fewer phrases in the English language that are as oxymoronic as this one. Is there such a thing as "Good" Grief? Ever? I know that when someone is griev-ing, it's good to let it all out and cry and hit pillows and throw tantrums or whatever you have to do to relieve your feelings, but it's not exactly fun. In fact, it's rather painful.

So is watching hours and hours of miniseries inspired by the fiction of Mr. Charles Dickens. I think I have finally made up my mind about Dickens: I really don't like him all that much. Is that a terrible thing to admit? Will my former English literature professors and classmates renounce me as an intellectual rebel?

Maybe.

But please, it's all so DEPRESSING!! Isn't ANYONE EVER HAPPY in nineteenth century England? Nicholas Nickleby certainly wasn't. Neither was Pip. Or any other character of his invention, with the rare exception of Bob Cratchit, who seems to have found the solution this great mystery.

{{Sigh}}

I'm not totally unreasonable. I understand that the entire world cannot be happy all the time. But when I read a book, I want to escape into another world that is enlightening or entertaining, but always uplifting. Dickens certainly isn't that. Much. At all.

So can someone please tell me why I couldn't turn off Masterpiece Theater's "Great Expectations" last night which I had to stay up until 1:00 to finish because I absolutely had to find out if Pip ever found any spark of happiness in his poor miserable life? I'm glad he didn't marry Estella -- I think he might have taught her how to love, but it would have been a difficult marriage in any case -- and I'm glad Biddy marries Joe after all -- but leaving the story unfinished (which is supposed to be a trick of literary genius, leaving the reader to finish the story themselves) JUST BUGS ME.

Which means I stayed awake for at least another hour trying to make sense of the whole thing, and imagining some sort of happy ending. Which, of course, was impossible because I have no idea how Dickens imagined it in the first place. Which bugs me even more, because I'd like to think I can read author's minds. Which is ridiculous.

Having said all of this....I have to admit the show was wonderfully done. I am addicted to Masterpiece Theater, and I love Justine Waddell of Wives and Daughters DVD fame (own it -- LOVE it) and Ioan Gruffud is a great actor as well.

But now, I think I better go get this all out of my system with a good dose of happy, uplifting and educational Sesame Street.

Doo-hickey bobs

superquack6@q.com (Sue Q) — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 16:35:00 +0000

I've been wanting to devote a post to this subject for quite some time, and last week's post got me thinking about it.

For those of you who are not "Great Brain" aficionados, the first chapter of the first book in the series introduces us to one of the main characters, Mr. Fitzgerald, who is a consummate collector of gadgets and devices and all kinds of crazy inventions that never worked. In fact, the opening chapter also introduces us to the most recent, new-fangled contraption of the time -- the water closet, or as we more lovingly call it, the Toilet. The whole community didn't believe it would work, but of course it did, and we are now the lucky benefactors of this wonderful, hygienic and probably one of the most convenient inventions the world has ever appreciated. As much as I hate cleaning it, I certainly would not prefer the alternative.

The book was set at the turn of the nineteenth century when the age of invention was at it's peak, supposedly. We recently watched "Around the World in Eighty Days" with Jackie Chan, which we loved, but we couldn't help thinking how sad it would have been if people stopped inventing stuff after all the 'worthwhile' inventions were complete.

We wouldn't have this little gadget, for example:
What the heck? You may well ask. This delightful little tool has saved my sanity over the past two months. You may have to zoom in to read the words on the handle, but for those of you don't read pidgin english, you are looking at a bona-fide Fly Swatter of the highest magnitude. I swear, this gimmicky tourist souvenir (given to me by a very dear friend who had the wonderful fortune of spending her fiftieth birthday in the islands) has completely renovated the fine art of swatting flies. My old, boring fly swatter is absolutely useless -- flies would see it coming a mile away and buzz off. This little baby, however, is such a novelty that my swatting success rate has improved to a 100% success rate. I'm sure the flies see this coming and think, "Ooo! Yummy, smelly feet! BRING IT ON!!" My swattah is a black one, but as you can see, they come in a range of tropical colors and styles. Shop now for a fantastic stocking stuffer for your fly-hating loved ones!

One more doo-hickey bob for today:

I have to say, with all the knick knacks and paddy whacks and whozits and whatzits all over our house, this one has proven to be the most useful. Roy discovered it one day at the hardware store -- incidentally, I can't help but chuckle when I go to the hardware store with Roy. Instead of racks of candy bars at the check-out counter, they have shelves of little gadgets like this one, ready to be picked up on the spur of the moment by Mr. Fitzgerald wannabes. Needless to say, when Roy first brought this home, I thought it would break the first time we used it. It looked so flimsy and silly, and I thought, when am I ever going to use a thing like this? Not to mention, what the heck IS it?

O, ME OF LITTLE FAITH.

There has not been one week in the eight years that we have owned this $1.99 wonder that we have not used it. It is fabulous for reaching for socks that fall down behind the washer. You can pull anything out of the garbage disposal, or even down the drain. It is ridiculously simple to use... just push the plunger at the end, and out pops the little claws on the other end.

Every household in America--nay, the world --should not be without one. But don't ask me what it's called, because I can't remember, and as far as I can tell, the only tool remotely like this online is about ten times its size, and is good for reaching things off a high shelf, but not small enough to reach into hard-to-reach places. It was a limited time offer kind of promotional thing at the hardware store that day,but we have kept our eyes peeled so that if it ever resurfaces, we're going to buy them out and give them to every one we know for Christmas.

Top Ten Tuesday

superquack6@q.com (Sue Q) — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 14:35:00 +0000

Thanks to Barbaloot, I've been stewing over this post for the past week. Or so. Trying to nail down a list of the top ten books that have influenced my life is like asking me to name my ten favorite flavors of ice cream. Thought-provoking, to say the least. I choose my ice cream very carefully. As much as I've been stewing over these, I decided I couldn't wait for Thursday (and besides, Tuesday sounds more alliterative).

These ten books (or series) helped frame my childhood in such a way that I will never forget reading them for the first, second, and even hundredth time. These are all books that I've passed on to my children, and although they have long since passed me up in the book collecting department, it never hurts to fall back on some really good classics.

1. Little House on the Prarie - if you have never read these books, you simply have not grasped the great American tradition of The Pioneer. Even though the Ingalls weren't Mormon, I still got a great thrill when I read about everything from making butter to making dresses, traveling across the open prarie, and of course, all the food they stuffed down those little Farmer Boys' throats. Can you imagine pie for breakfast? AND pancakes, and sausages, and oatmeal.... I'm gaining weight just thinking about it.
2. The Great Brain Books - My fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Slater, was a great advocate of reading aloud. She read the entire Great Brain series to us throughout the course of a year, and I loved every minute of it! Catholics living in Utah? In the 1870's? I didn't know such a thing was possible! And of course, I fell in love with J.D. Fitzgerald the day he saved his little adopted brother's life from the clutches of a blood-thirsty escaped convict and cattle rustler. I loved that these books were also based on a real family, and I've since read the adult non-fiction books based on the same family by the same author, "Papa Married a Mormon" and "Mamma's Boarding House." Alas, all of these books are out of print, and my personal collection has been read and re-read so many times that they're falling apart.
3. Encyclopedia Brown - Ten years old and masterminding the neighborhood crime watch? To a fourth grader, nothing gets better than that. My brother collected every single one of these books -- there's got to be at least fifty of them -- and I remember sneaking into his room and ~~stealing~~ temporarily borrowing these books from his shelves. I never did guess the solution to any of his cases -- even though the answers were painfully obvious, once I read them -- and now my Emma is addicted and can't seem to get enough of Encyclopedia Brown!
4. And Both Were Young - Oh, my goodness, this book was very important to me in Junior High. I've already blogged about this book -- here and here (you'll have to scan down to the middles or ends of each post to get to it) -- and I still wish that Somebody Important would discover this book and turn it into a movie. I have it all pictured out in my head -- Anna Sophia Robb would be Flip, and some hot, hunky, brooding European actor would be Paul, but I have yet to discover who that would be. And please don't suggest Robert Pattinson, because frankly, he just gives me the creeps. In any case, this was a great coming of age story about post World War II, mixing cultures and exploring all kinds of issues that real people had to deal with while recovering from the ward. Loved it. Loved it. Loved it!
5. Anne of Green Gables - once you get past the flowery writing style of L.M.Montgomery, you can very easily get hooked on these books. I remember I first started reading them because my sister had read them, and I was getting tired of her quoting the books left and right and I had no clue what she was talking about. It's such a wonderful story! It's better than any Cinderella story ever written-- a young orphan overcomes an incredibly dysfunctional beginning in life and gets adopted and goes on to live a full, happy, normal life. If you can set aside everything you know about Anne from the movie and read the books, you will find that there is so much more to the story!
6. The Secret Garden/A Little Princess -- I don't know much about Frances Hodgson Burnett, but I do know she knows how to entertain little girls. I used to imagine myself as the Little Princess, living in the attic next door to an impossibly rich millionaire, having all my dreams come true. And the Secret Garden has been made into one of my all time favorite musicals ever -- I believe I've mentionned that a time or two before as well.
7. Little Women - do you see a recurring theme here? Stories of girls growing up in difficult times -- another war story, incidentally. I guess I like war stories better than I thought I did. I used to imagine myself as Jo, scribbling away in the attic. (I still scribble, but nowadays it's called "Blogging".) In the meantime, I also love that the story is almost an autobiography of Louisa May Alcott, and despite her difficult beginnings, she, too, made an excellent contribution to the world.
8. The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe - this is the first time I have to say I enjoyed the first book, but for whatever reason, I couldn't get into the rest of the series. I'm not a huge fantasy fiction reader -- well, at all, really -- but this one captured my imagination like very few other books ever did. I loved to draw as a kid, and I remember devoting notebooks after notebooks to my various renditions of what I thought Narnia looked like. I still have my vision of the White Witch clearly etched in my mind, especially the dress she wore. I guess you could say this was the book that began my love for costuming!
9. Pride and Prejudice -- it almost seems cliche to add this one, but what young girl hasn't imagined herself falling in love with the richest man in the country?And oh, how I wished I could insult a guy to his face with the grace and poise and finesse of Elizabeth Bennet!
10. Fantastic Mr. Fox -- If I hadn't gone into costuming, I would have gone into architecture, and all because of this book. I bet, if you go back to my house in Hawaii, you might still see the remains of the little animal village I created in my back yard when I read this book. I recreated their tunnels throughout the landscaping, bringing this story to life in my own way. Admittedly, I am not a huge Roald Dahl fan -- I mean, the guy was fairly eccentric. Chocolate factories and big friendly giants were a little -- uh -- creepy. In a British sort of way. And this book has it's share, with the three farmers and all. But the animals were so dang adorable! And inventive! And smart! And FANTASTIC! And I have very high expectations for the movie which is supposed to come out next month. As much as I adore George Clooney, I really have a hard time imagining anyone playing Mr. Fox without a British accent. Sorry, George.

So there you have it. Take some time, think about your own list, and share it with the world!

P.S. -- Picture day went as well as could be expected. Here's a tip if you're planning on taking family pictures any time soon: make sure your four year old child (and forty year old husband) has had a NAP and don't forget to bring SNACKS!

Monday, Monday.../

superquack6@q.com (Sue Q) — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 15:58:00 +0000

I have this delightful plaque hanging in my kitchen for a very good reason. It serves to vindicate my imperfections and my tendency to relive Monday mornings.

Yeah. I know it's Thursday. But since I've had four Mondays in a row now, I think I deserve a little break, don't you? I mean, tomorrow is Friday and all, but the herald of a three day weekend no longer has the novelty it once had. Every weekend is a three day weekend around here!

BUT....

This weekend is a Daddy weekend, which means Roy has Monday off, which means WE ARE GETTING OUR FAMILY PICTURES TAKEN. Finally. Sophie is four and a half years old, and the last time we did this she was only one. So, for three and a half years, we've been staring at this darling photo of our little gems on our kitchen wall.

It really is sweet, isn't it? But so much has changed since then. Sara doesn't have braces anymore, and Emma does. Anne's hair is about five inches longer, Sara's is about five inches shorter. Sophie has hair now. Do I rest my case? Have I proven my point? Are you all going to defend me against He Who Hates Having His Picture Taken and Would Rather Have a Root Canal?

Poor Roy. It's not his fault. The last time we had our family picture taken before this one was when Emma was four, and we went to one of those Kid Friendly photo places in the mall that we adored, but.....HEAVEN FORBID.... they made us all take our shoes off. Roy hates having bare feet. HATES it like nothing on this earth. He'd even wear flip flops in the shower if I let him. But bare feet was the latest thing for professional pictures then, and he grudgingly complied because he didn't want to make a scene and embarrass his family in public.

What a sweet guy, right?

Well, imagine his joy when the pictures came out and... guess what? HIS FEET WEREN'T EVEN IN THE PICTURE. At all. You couldn't even his knees, let alone his bare feet. (And in this cropped version of the picture, you can't see anybody's feet, but this is the only copy of the picture I could find. Doesn't Roy look completely overjoyed? And isn't Emma the cutest, most photogenic little bug of a person? I love taking pictures of her! There is no such thing as bad hair days for that child! But more on that later...)

Anyway, back to my kitchen wall: I love that we were able to have our most recent pictures taken at the temple. I love this picture -- and no, that's not the sun glaring down on us. That's just the flash on my camera, but I couldn't take the picture out of the professionally framed frame because I would ruin the beautifully taped backside, not to mention get the hanging wire twisted out of place. Whatever. You'll just have to imagine it without the giant spot in the middle. Sorry.)

Meanwhile, here are the individual shots we took of the girls that same day. I think my kids are a lot prettier than I was when I was a kid!

Even with all the blogging I do, I can't wait to get our "real" pictures from the photographer next week! And I solemnly vow to my parents who've been wondering what their grandchildren look like now, as well as anyone else who cares, that I will never wait three years in between family pictures ever again!

Quick! Type something!

superquack6@q.com (Sue Q) — Tue, 29 Sep 2009 16:59:00 +0000

Are the kids gone? Is anybody lurking around the corner? No fifty page papers to write? No grades to look up? No obscure civilization to research?

Whew! Then I can FINALLY blog!

You know you're back in school when all of a sudden, everybody needs to use the computer all at once, and everything is due tomorrow, and there suddenly don't seem to be enough hours in the day. You'd think that, with three of the four girls in school most of the day, I could easily fit in a half hour here or there on this blessed computer, but ... well, if you do the math, I still have one child at home. And that child is completely co-dependent. Sophie really doesn't enjoy playing by herself. She's never had to, really. But now that big sisters are out the door before she even wakes up, four days out of seven (yes, you read that right -- but I'll talk about that in a minute), and most of her friends attend preschool or even kindergarten, Sophie is one bummed out chick.

And I am no fun anymore.

It's funny, I don't remember becoming un-fun. I know I'm getting older, and it's not as comfortable to get down on the floor and play on my hands and busted knees, but I think I'm a pretty entertaining sort of person. Sophie, aparently, does not agree. I'm just old.... and it's very pressing to think about.

Still, we got Soph her very own set of homework books and we made her these clocks to help her pass the time throughout the day. Most of the time, she ends up drifting towards the computer where she can turn it on, plug in one of her favorite Jump Start Preschool cd's, and go to town. And before I know it, hours have passed. The dishes are done, the laundry is folded, and the floor is mopped, but my poor child is sucked in to her cyber babysitter. Which I'm sure cannot be entirely healthy.

Luckily for us, we are very blessed to have a few friends that don't do preschool every day. Today is one of those days, and Sophie was thrilled beyond reason to actually get to have a playdate. Me, too. So here I am, catching up on the last ten days. The laundry can WAIT.

So, the whole four day school week is starting to settle down in our school district. In an effort to save money and prevent firing teachers, they cut out twenty whole days out of our school year. We have two more weeks of school, but without all these Mondays, they are hoping that a smaller utility bill and less bussing is going to even out the budget cuts. Education has become so political! I really don't understand all of it -- I mean, if it were as simple as cutting out brand new cars for our state representatives so our kids could actually get an education we could be proud of, then it would be a no-brainer fix. But, alas, there is no easy solution to this problem! They're still talking about cutting teachers! They cut half of the hot lunches! There's no more music program in the elementary schools! And most of our classrooms have close to 40 kids!

WHERE DID OUR STATE GO WRONG??!!

Home schooling has become a subject of much debate. It may solve the problem for my children, perhaps, but for every kid that drops out of school to go on their own, the state cuts a percentage of funding. So that's not a solution for the bigger problem, either. All I can promise is that we will take every opportunity to expand my children's education on our own, and hopefully, they can still manage to get into college someday. Someday in the not too distant future, I might add...

Meanwhile, I'm still breathing. I'm an active PTO parent, as much as I can, anyway, and my kids' teachers know me as an involved parent. That's as much as I can do for now.

De-pressing

superquack6@q.com (Sue Q) — Fri, 18 Sep 2009 16:33:00 +0000

Last night, I sat down to write up a blog post dedicated to my first born, Sara, who turned sweet sixteen yesterday, but before I got started I got a little distracted by my blogroll. You people have a funny way of doing that...anyway, as I started to peruse, I got caught in the blog vacuum and started scoping out your blogrolls, and before I knew it, I found myself

here.

It wasn't hard. Half a million people have this lovely lady on their blogroll. In fact, I once did myself, but when our computer crashed, I had to upload everything once again and several of my old favorite blog sites fell by the wayside. Hers was one of them. So imagine my surprise when I pull up her blog and find that not only is she back in full force, she appears to be hiking mountains and riding bikes and driving places and taking some amazing, heart-rending pictures and writing from her soul.

When have I ever truly done that?

Now, don't take this post title for granted. Most people connotate that word with ... well.... negative thoughts. I can't deny that some of Nie's words had some of that affect on me, but the more I read, the more I realized this one fundamental truth:

The Universally Accepted Definition for that word is WRONG.

Think about it: when something is "pressing", it usually means it is weighing you down. Or you are applying a downward force upon another object.

...THEREFORE...

....if something is "de-pressing", it should mean the opposite, right?

Whatever was weighing you down is no longer an issue!

BEING DEPRESSED IS A GOOD THING!

Okay. I know it's a stretch. Call me an Eternal Optimist, or whatever, but today, I'm taking a stand. There have been so many fatalities and traumas and politically life-threatening situations occur in so many peoples' lives of late.... here, for one.....and then, from there you go to this blog.... and no one should be a widow at such a young age, but my young friend is recovering nicely... I could go on and on.

But I won't. I'm so grateful for life, as fragile as it is, and I realize that every day is a gift. Instead, I am going to focus and concentrate on preparing for a Sweet Sixteen Bash that will rival many wedding receptions I've attended recently, and I will dedicate tomorrow's post to Sara instead.

"Joy is very infectious; therefore, be always full of joy."
MOTHER TERESA

Tuesday Tirade and a little Feng Shui

superquack6@q.com (Sue Q) — Tue, 15 Sep 2009 15:24:00 +0000

I think I have come to the conclusion that I am not delirious after all. Instead, I think I have Adult Attention Deficit Disorder. Actually, I have probably suffered from this all of my life, but it is only now that I realize I have just had multiple coping strategies and have learned to channel my wandering brain functions successfully from one task to the next. Sewing has been very good therapy, for instance. And quilting, and crafting, and blogging, etc.

And I am always changing the furniture around.

This is one of the symptoms. I can't stand everything to be the same all the time. I change the furniture around in my house at least once a month. I rearrange the pantry every other month. I rotate the fabric in my shop weekly, sometimes every other day even. I can't sit still and watch t.v. unless I have a project in my lap. And the other way around is true, too -- I can't sew if the t.v. isn't on!

I AM LOSING MY FOCUS!!

Should I call a doctor? A shrink? A licensed massage therapist?

Actually -- hey, that's not a bad idea....

In any case, the reason for this month's feng shui isn't my skittish home decorating bug. It's my dad's fault. He had to go and make an enormous, two-tiered desk for my daughters, which is custom fitted to their bedroom space and is one of the most functional, beautiful and unique pieces of furniture I've ever seen.

This desk was ergonomically designed -- or whatever -- by my genius father. It's such a simple design, but everything is placed in just the right spot for maximum support and functionality.

We had to use Sophie and Emma as a counterweight to screw in the pedastals. If they didn't like it so much up there, we could have used that shelf for a new "time-out" space. Darn.

One of my favorite features is the abundance of head room. The girls used to bonk their heads on their old desk every time they sat down at it. Which meant they didn't use the darn desk very much. Which meant doing their homework curled up on their bed or on my kitchen table when I was trying to set it for dinner, and usually while a younger sister was watching a movie. Which meant, ultimately, homework didn't get done in a timely fashion.

Now, homework is a joy! They can't wait to come home every day and s-p-r-e-a-d out their books all over the table top (as well as their school things all over the floor....we're still working on a solution to that problem...)

All of this meant, of course, that we had to rearrange not only their bedroom, but Emma and Sophie's room, my room, the kitchen and the living room as well. If for no other reason than to make room for the beast of a desk that they used to have. We couldn't just throw it out on the sidewalk with a sign that said "Please Take Me Home" like a stray kitten, now could we? Besides, unlike a kitten, it takes up a little more space and weighs about two hundred pounds.

The living room won the toss, but only because it meant that we could throw away the old, dilapidated microwave cart that used to serve as our "office". It was missing a drawer, and one of the hinges on the front door was broken, so we sacrificed it to the feng shui gods (and a few hammers -- why do my kids enjoy being destructive?) and replaced it with this. Now, I know where all my bills are, and all those extra, ridiculously tangled electrical gadgets we seem to collect have a home, as well as the stapler, hole puncher, and extra school supplies. Our printer no longer has to shake every time it prints something, and Sophie has a little nook of her own to do her homework while I blog. See? It's a win-win situation!

Oh, and if I haven't said it enough already, THANK YOU, GRANDPA!

Did you know...

superquack6@q.com (Sue Q) — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 16:11:00 +0000

....that if you spill milk and don't clean it up for a few days, it turns into a puddle of congealed sour cream?

I didn't know that. I found out this morning.

See, the beauty of being sick is nobody blames you for having a messy house. It's like having a lisence to ignore your housekeeping for the duration of your illness. How can that be bad?

The upshot, of course, is getting well. I feel about 95% better. Once we finally came to terms that it was not allergies, but a full-blown cold we were all suffering from, then we could deal with it. Not that the symptoms were any different, but mentally, we could tackle the situation differently. Sickness is all mental. If you can trick yourself into thinking, it's not allergies, it's just a cold and it will eventually go away, then it's a snap to get well. Allergies never go away. I don't care if you think they're seasonal, you have to deal with allergies all year long in Oregon.

Still, the whole concept of getting better is enough to make you want to get sick all over again. Because getting better means taking care of the hurricane that hit your house while you were indisposed. Laundry, of course, which became fruitful and multiplied. Dishes, which were technically done over time, but when a sick person washes dishes it's kind of an oxymoron because all they do is spread the germs. We ran out of paper plates, what else were we supposed to do? Vacuuming, mopping, bathrooms.... well, that's what I should be doing right now.

So here I go.

Vacuum, here I come.

Brand new kitchen rags are calling out to me

(they're less 50 cents apiece at Costco! How could I pass them up?).

Don't try and stop me.

I mean it.

I really have better things to do.

But you can sit and read all day if you want to. And if you haven't already stopped by my friend Steph's blog, Diapers and Divinity, you have to read yesterday's post. Because it is brilliant. And because it nearly brought me to tears. And because it was the boost I really needed to get off my duff and do something about my personal hurricane.

(Thanks, Steph. )

Y'all have a good day now.

I'm about to push the publish button, I swear.....

Okay, okay! I'm going already!!

Diagnosis: Delirium

superquack6@q.com (Sue Q) — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 20:50:00 +0000

EXHIBIT A:

Attractive, yes -- I know. This is the result of combining too many pharmaceuticals, not enough sleep, way too much laundry, allergies, birthday parties, and just plain, good old-fashioned germs.

And this was taken after I started feeling better!

Actually, this is just my own personal rendition of one of my favorite cartoons. I grew up reading "Bloom County" (which explains my secret obsession with penguins. I love Opus! I mean, just look at him -- isn't he adorable?), but the expression on Bill the cat's face just says it all.

EXHIBIT B:

Under the Weather...

superquack6@q.com (Sue Q) — Mon, 07 Sep 2009 02:57:00 +0000

Whoever coined this phrase obviously never had allergies. Isn't that statement a little too obvious? Aren't we always "under" the weather? Whether it's raining, snowing, hailing, or even when sun is shining, aren't we usually under it? I guess we could be over the weather when there's a tsunami or an earthquake, but I usually consider those acts of natural destruction, not something a weatherman can predict. I mean, is anybody ever "over" the weather? The only time I can imagine being over the weather is when you're up in space, which is more what my poor head is feeling like right now. Reeeeeeeally spacey....

Don't mind me and my whacked out thought processes. It's the Sudafed.

Today, I sympathize with Ka. I have seven more sinuses than he does, but oh, how they really know how to ruin your life. That, and my sacroilliac, whatever that is. In the meantime, I'm going to plug in the humidifier and let it work it's magic, humming me to sleep.

Refreshing, for a change....

superquack6@q.com (Sue Q) — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 23:55:00 +0000

We can't all be princesses all the time, can we?

Emma Kate, the Great!

superquack6@q.com (Sue Q) — Tue, 01 Sep 2009 19:55:00 +0000

One decade.

Ten years.

3,650 days.

87,360 hours.

5,241, 600 minutes.

It's hard to think of Emma as 5 million of anything, so let's stick to the one decade idea, especially since Roy has a hard time thinking of her as anything more than six years old. And yet, today, as she marks her tenth birthday, I can't help but go back a few years and think about her little life story and how special she is to our family.

About eleven years ago, we were living in a little duplex in Medford, struggling to find the ends, let alone get them to meet, and living somewhat haphazardly from month to month, hoping Roy's temp job would turn into something permanent. Sara was four, Anne had just turned two, which meant that most of the Relief Society contingent were starting to knit baby booties for a number three baby. Roy and I knew we weren't done having children, but we also knew that it was simply Not Time Yet. Nevertheless, I remember suffering dig after dig from many people at church wondering if there were any buns in the oven yet.

I hated this. Really, strongly, vehemently. It got to the point that I would see certain sisters coming down the hall towards me and I would run the other way. It hurt in so many ways -- I wanted to have another baby, sure, but it was none of their business! Why do people do that, anyway? I promised myself I would never needle any woman about having children, and I never have. (Knock on wood...)

Anyway, we prayed and fasted, and paid our tithing, and everything we were supposed to do. Girls Camp came along, and I wasn't sure if I could go, simply for the reason that Roy couldn't afford to take off a whole week, but several of my friends in the ward stepped forward and offered to watch my girls so I could go. Roy even felt strongly that I should go, have a fun week, and not worry about a thing.

(Which reminds me, there was another thing to worry about: my grandparents. One of the reasons we moved to Medford was to keep an eye on my dad's parents, who were in their 90's and still living at home at the time, but their health was rapidly deteriorating and I never knew when I was going to get a call from the ER.)

Anyway, I went to camp, had a wonderful, exhausting, and spiritually energizing week as usual, but on the last night, I had injured myself (I can't even remember what I did -- I think I was running along the path and tripped over a tree root or something and twisted my ankle. Typical Sue grace, as usual!). They took me to the nurse, and I was in a lot of pain, but while I was there I got a phone call. I answered; it was Roy.

He got the job.

I cried and cried, (hysterically, I might add -- I think it was the combined effect of my twisted ankle, complete spiritual draining, and ultimate RELIEF) and everyone came running, thinking it had something to do with my grandparents. Instead, I greeted them with a grin and I remember telling my friend Ann, "Guess what? We're going to have another baby!"

Well, it didn't happen quite that quickly. First things first, we bought our first house. The night before we signed papers, our stake boundaries were rearranged and our new house ended up being in a completely different ward -- Ann's ward, actually. We haven't been parted since, and both of us have moved since then! The very next Sunday, I got called to be the Young Woman's president in my new ward. And the Sunday after that, we found out we were expecting.

It was as if the Lord was standing over us, saying, "Here, have a blessing! Have another! AND ANOTHER!!"

Sure, I still had to deal with my share of morning sickness. And my grandparents took turns having medical emergencies. But in the midst of all that, we still found ourselves blessed.

The funny thing with this pregnancy was that we never found out if Emma was going to be a boy or a girl. That sounds funny, but it wasn't really funny at the time. After two girls, I was really hoping for a boy. So much so that I had friends try all their gender-guessing tricks --you know, the wedding ring on a string, the frozen grape thing, the Chinese birth calendar...which, weirdly enough, actually worked for my other two girls. Problem was, Emma's due date was right on the August/September line, so if she had been born 24 hours earlier she might have been a boy....

I digress. The main thing is, Roy and I could not agree on names. At all. We actually argued over it. The boy name we had picked out for years, but the girl name he had picked out was "Gwen." I wanted a "Kate". Fisticuffs, people. Don't ask me why. It was the hormones.

Well, we finally called a truce one weekend when my Grandmother (my spanish-speaking abuela, to refresh your memories) took a particularly nasty spill and ended up in a rehabilitative hospital. Roy and I took the girls to go visit her, promising ourselves that if the subject of baby names would come up, we would change the subject as quickly as possible.

We didn't even have the chance. We literally walked into the door of Grandma's room, and she nearly fell out of bed, she was so excited to see us. "I'm so glad you came today!" she cried out. "I had a dream last night that you were going to have a girl, and her name is going to be Emma!"

Roy and I were so taken aback by this announcement, that all we could do was stare at each other. It was as if a lightning bolt shot through both of us at the same time, and we both spoke. "Emma," we repeated. "We like it!"

Grandma also informed us that she had been doing some thinking. She had had four children, and those four children provided her with 23 grandchildren, and now our baby was going to be her 73rd great-grandchild. (Or something like that -- I need to do the math myself, I can't remember the exact numbers). I remember the look on her face when she proudly announced that this meant our baby was going to be her 100th descendant!

Well, that clinched it. We had to name this baby Emma...whether she was a girl or not!

I managed to waddle my way through the rest of the pregnancy, including:

a trip to Girls Camp eight month's pregnant...
then a weekend of youth conference during the building of our Medford Temple where I was in charge of fun and games for five hundred youth...
followed by a week long panic attack (seriously, some people get Post Partum. I got Pre Partum. All I could think about was, What if it really was a boy? What would I do with a boy?! I don't know how to dress boys, I don't know how to play with boys...and so forth and so on. Yeah. Hormones.) ....
and finally, through a season of Pear Picking. I didn't get to help out at the stake pear farm much, but Roy sure did. In fact, guess where he was on the afternoon of August 31st when I realized my water broke ?
You guessed it. The Pear Farm.

And did we have cell phones back then?
Of course not.

So how long did I have to wait to get a hold of my husband?

Oh, Roy came home around 9:00 that night, sunburned and completely exhausted and totally not happy about going to the hospital one more time (we had already gone three times, just to be checked and sent home.)

I was anxious to have this baby before midnight, just in case it was a boy (darn that Chinese calendar anyway!), but of course, we didn't get there until 10 p.m. When they did finally get me in there and confirm that my water had actually broken (it wasn't a gush like it was supposed to be, it was a trickle, so how was I supposed to know it was for real?), and they diagnosed me with group B strep, and the anesthesiologist couldn't get the darn epidural to work, and the doctors and nurses were running around like crazy trying to take care of me, and Roy was hyperventilating....

I distinctly remember the exact moment I looked up at the ceiling and calmly and firmly decided that I was going to have this baby on my own, so I tuned everybody out and started breathing. By myself. And I did. Lamaze WORKS, baby!

Emma Kate Quackenbush finally made her appearance at 4:30 in the afternoon on a lovely, perfectly boiling Wednesday on the first of September, 1999. When my doctor announced that she was a girl, I cried like I've never cried for any of my kids. I was so relieved she wasn't a boy!

Emma has always been loving and sweet and good natured. She loves everybody, and always puts the needs of others first. I can't imagine our lives without this wonderful ray of sunshine waking me up every morning!

Happy Birthday, Emma! We sure love you!

Are you ready for the summer??

superquack6@q.com (Sue Q) — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 04:34:00 +0000

Okay, everybody, get out your sunblock and your bug repellent and camping gear -- summer has finally arrived!

Yeah, I know what you're thinking..... I bet you're thinking something along the lines of, "Um, Sue, you're a little late, dear. Summer is OVER." Or perhaps you might be thinking, "WHERE THE HECK HAVE YOU BEEN FOR THE LAST TWO AND A HALF MONTHS??"

Yes. Well, for me, summer has just begun. We did have that trip down to see the California family in June... and the girls did go to Girls Camp....and we had eight weeks of swimming lessons in which our instructor discovered my four year old has no fear of water, or any sort of conceptual understanding of the "deep end".....and I made two wedding dresses for two different nieces......and Roy and I even got to have one teensy, weensy weekend away from home to attend one of our niece's weddings....and Emma spent the entire summer on the very same bike that she has been trying to learn how to ride for THREE years....and Sara has been driving all over the Rogue Valley....and Anne nearly got adopted by one of my dear friends who hired her to babysit for the summer.....and Roy spent two solid weeks doing his duty for King and Country (or whatever they say) fighting forest fires.....oh, and then, of course there was the show....

People, I really, REALLY, reallyreallyreallyreallyreallyREALLY, love my job! The best thing about it is that I could do most of it from home and I didn't have to abandon my children every single day, all day long, but could bring them along from time to time, and still create a magnificent work of art for many people to enjoy. And for a very limited time, you can

view the pictures of the cast in costume

taken by our marvelous photographer, Bryon Devore, on his blog. (Click on the performance photos from actual shots taken during the show -- the other collection was taken for the playbill, which were taken about three weeks before the performance. Many of the costumes weren't finished then, but you can get a really clear picture of the gods/goddesses in that collection).

Anyway.....now that the show is over, I can relax and actually have a real vacation. I think I'll start by sending my kids off to school next week and then I'll sit around all day and eat a few boxes of calorie- and guilt-free bon-bons. I might even take up yoga.

And I'm going to catch up on all the blogging I've missed, I promise!

38 Special

superquack6@q.com (Sue Q) — Mon, 27 Jul 2009 05:17:00 +0000

For those of you with little to no knowledge or appreciation for firearms, you need to know that a .38 special is actually a handgun, not a rifle. I am the only "38 special" in this picture!

I can't think of a better way to celebrate my 38th birthday than by exercising a little fire power. For those of you who are less than enthusiastic about firearms, you may be surprised to find that I grew up with them. Not in my personal possession, of course, but my dad is and always has been a great gun collector. When I was young, he used to let me tag along with him when he went to the firing range with his collection of rifles and pistols, and I would watch from the cement bunker as he blasted away at those helpless targets 100 yards away. The highlight of these excursions was sipping the Grape Nehi my dad always bought me to keep me quiet and out of mischief. If I close my eyes, I can still taste it....I haven't been shooting since I can't remember when -- junior high, I think -- so it was eagerness that I jumped at the chance to visit our local target range last week when my folks came up for a quick visit. Dad had a recently purchased gun he wanted to break in and of course, I had to go and try it out. I was a little nervous, since it has been a few years since I touched anything that could break the sound barrier, but it really is a very pretty gun, and I'm like a raccoon when it comes to pretty things. Anne, too. And for someone who has never picked up anything remotely close to a rifle (other than a video game joystick), she did pretty DARN well! And despite my initial reticence, I have to say that I didn't do too shabby either.

We forgot to take the camera with us to the range, so hopefully you'll accept these pictures as proof....

It's only a little disturbing to know that my child has an affinity for handling rifles. On her first time out, she NAILED the bull's-eye... and not once, but FIVE TIMES IN A ROW.

Just for fun, (and to rub it in a little), here's a color-coordinated look at our success: ( go ahead -- click on the picture to get a better look.)

Roy also grew up with guns, and it is no small victory to see that I have better aim than he does after all these years. He insisted that his first try was simply to get a good grouping (getting all your shots in a tight group), but since I bested him at that, too (his second attempt is in blue up there at the top), I have total and complete bragging rights. Unless he let me win because of my birthday... hmm, I just thought of that...well, that means a rematch!

Anne also tried the pistol, which is harder to control and aim and actually hit the target, let alone the bull's eye, but she liked the rifle better. I swear, the girl did not even flinch. My dad also put up a target that consisted of three metal discs that hung from a frame that would spin when you shot them, and Anne nailed those every time, too.

It was really a lot more fun than I remember, especially since our range didn't have any vending machines, and I think we may have found a new family hobby. Beats playing video games any day!

Other birthday weekend highlights:

The photo shoot for "Once on This Island" was awesome!!!! Long, tedious, tiresome, and lots of "hurry up and wait your turn" kind of stuff for the kids, but I have to say, they all looked amazing! It's a huge relief to know that, three weeks before dress rehearsal, I'm about 95% done with this job. The official photos are not up for review, but I snuck in my camera and took a few of my own:

Papa Ge, god of Death

Agwe, god of Water

(This dedicated young man shaved his head just so I could paint it gold and detailed, swirly blue waves all over his skull! Talk about sacrificing for the craft!)

Erzulie, goddess of Love

Asaka, goddess of Earth

(Her head-piece is still under construction, but I wish I had gotten a picture of her whole dress -- it took me about 8 hours to make, and it's incredible!)

Getting my dad hooked on pineapple salsa.

Wheelbarrow duty at our stake service project.

Finishing my niece's wedding dress.

A birthday cake shaped like a sewing machine...

"E" for effort, right? I got the jist of what they were trying to accomplish, anyway ... and it was delicious, which is all that matters.

CONSUMED

superquack6@q.com (Sue Q) — Fri, 17 Jul 2009 23:28:00 +0000

Six days to "Once On This Island" photo shoot and counting....I've probably said this before, but I'll say it again, I LOVE MY JOB!! And this show has been so fun! The ensemble costumes (what most of the actors are wearing) were easy to find at thrift shops because the Caribbean Peasant Look is chic right now, I guess, which means I've been able to really throw myself into the creation of the wild, off-the-wall gods and goddesses. It's been really quite a feat to take the drawings I sketched and make them come to life.

But I have barely been able to take a few minutes to breathe at the end of each day lately, and I actually forced myself to not even touch my sewing machine today. The kids needed a break as badly as I did today, so we packed up and went swimming at a friend's house (thank you, Mindy!) and tonight Roy and I are going to celebrate Anniversary #17 by going to the temple. And tomorrow I'll be back to the grindstone...

Stay tuned for our costume preview!

Tastes like chicken

superquack6@q.com (Sue Q) — Sat, 04 Jul 2009 23:53:00 +0000

I can't think of a better way to celebrate the birthday of our nation that to eat a bunch of food from other countries. That's what our country is all about, right? A big melting pot of earth's humanity, all gathered in this mighty country of ours to celebrate their differences and to share their cultures and and express their ethnicity on every street corner and grocery store shelf and even in the mailbox.

This friend graciously complied by surprising Emma yesterday with a big, ol' box of goodies from her husband's native country. In case you can't read the small print, here's a closer look:

What, still can't read it? Sorry, I forgot -- it's in Polish! But from what we could tell, these chips really are chicken flavored, and they were reallllllllly tasty! Thanks, Lisa, SOOOO MUCH! You have no idea how much this made Emma's day!

We had to take a quick picture of all the loot before everybody devoured everything. My personal favorite: the cherry chocolate bar (we're talking YUMMY) and the twiggy colored pencils (which, of course, we didn't eat, but nevertheless put to good use!)

(Apologies for the sideways view -- it wasn't sideways when I attached it, I promise!)

And while we're on the multi-culture subject, here's a quick glimpse at the costumes for "Once on This Island." Anne is modeling the outfit I made for 'Agwe', the god of water. The vest is made from an iridescent green/blue taffeta, embellished with a teal brocade and turquoise lycra waves, complete with strips of the taffeta to resemble seaweed. The pants are made of the turquoise lycra, with a wide-leg overlay of teal and gold-glittered nylon netting, embellished with brocade waves at the hem. Her hair is hanging loose from a recently broken ponytail elastic, curling naturally over her shoulders, enhancing the aquatic theme. (Which isn't totally accurate, since the god of water is going to played by a boy and he's getting his head shaved for the occasion so we can paint waves across his head! Talk about dedicating yourself to the craft...)

So much fun! I can't wait to do 'Erzulie', the goddess of love!

Now, back to our regularly scheduled holiday:

This friend , my brilliant photographer friend from days gone by, issued a challenge for the month of July which I was glad to meet. July is the best month of the year -- Indepence Day (I consider myself a very patriotic person), my wedding anniversary, my birthday (twenty-one shopping days, people!), and officially the half-way year mark all happen in this month (which happens at exactly noon on July 2nd, in case anybody's wondering).

So, I dutifully got out the camera and purposely went to a major department store to find matching shirts and a new flagpole just so I could take these:

(And Carin, by the way -- recognize that first pose?)

Tonight we'll be heading out for a good, ol' fashioned neighborhood barbecue, complete with swimming pool, volleyball, burnt shoulders and peeling noses (not if Roy can help it! If they made a sunblock with SPF 2000, he'd buy stock!) and lots and lots of amazing food, including but not limited to the teriyaki chicken I have marinating in the fridge as we speak. Hope you all have a fabulous Fourth!

To Whom It May Concern;

superquack6@q.com (Sue Q) — Thu, 02 Jul 2009 01:58:00 +0000

Please excuse Sue from her regular blogging activities. She will still be posting from time to time over the next two months, but you may expect her back permanently by August 23rd. In the meantime, she will be tearing her hair out, planning for Girls Camp and organizing and designing costumes for her next theatrical performance while hiding out in her totally cushy and plush surroundings at her new digs, the Ginger Rogers Craterian Theater in the greater downtown Medford area. (Her office is located immediately above the front entrance-- see all those windows? Awesome.)

Thank you for your concern.

Yours truly,

The Management

And here's a small sample of what she'll be doing:

What starts looking like this....

Is going to end up looking like THIS...

.....thanks to my genius brother, Mike, who coached me through every step of the process. Mike, you're my hero! Stay tuned for the finished product. We're wrapping all four masks with wire mesh tomorrow, then plastering them with just-add-water plaster. It's super-light-weight, and incredibly durable. And once they have dried, the REAL fun part begins -- PAINTING!! And then we add feathers, and jewels, and all kinds of glitzy glop.

And that's just the head pieces.
We also have four incredibly amazing COSTUMES to make to match the masks... not to mention the ensemble cast of 52 other kids!

Every time I think, wow, this is the most amazing thing I've ever done in my theatrical career over the past thirteen years, something ALWAYS comes up that is even more challenging. This, I think, takes the cake. Even above life-size giraffe and elephant suits.

I love my job.

I'm seeing red...

superquack6@q.com (Sue Q) — Tue, 23 Jun 2009 02:45:00 +0000

... in my very own garden ....

.... in my very own freezer.....

....in my little tupperware bowls (in inevitably in my tummy)....

.... and in my sewing room....

Red is the color of summer. Next to plaid, it's my favorite color.
Red always cheers me up. And I've needed some cheering up lately.

The day after we got home from our trip, I got a phone call from my mom telling me that one of my high school friends (someone I've been trying to track down for the past few years), actually passed away in May from an obscure strain of bone cancer. She had been fighting it for two years, and had spent several months in Boston for experimental treatments, which, from what I've gathered from several friends, did nothing to alleviate any pain, but did help in the research of this horrible disease. In other words, she knew it wasn't going to help her, but that it might help someone else in the long run.

From my high school yearbook...

I have so many memories of this girl. She was like human sunshine -- she always had a smile (except for her senior picture, where she was uncharacteristically solemn and which we constantly teased her about) and a laugh, and frankly, together we were a pretty wacky combination. She helped me coin the phrase that helped me pass biology in high school as well as college -- "Keep People Completely Off Free Grass Samples". We named every creature we dissected in that class, and even held a little memorial for their remains after each lab. (Okay, so we were pretty weird, too, but like I said, it got me through that class!) She had the coolest house I've ever seen -- It was literally built around a huge oak tree. It grew through the living room floor and out the wall and onto the balcony, and we used to have countless slumber parties under the branches. If it weren't for her, I would never have gotten a date to prom.

There were very few people that knew about her condition -- she didn't want anyone to grieve for her, and even before she passed away, the few friends that did know gathered around her for one last fling (actually, they sat around her living room and shared a few pitchers of margaritas) and celebrated her life, however short lived. She left behind a five year old daughter and a remarkable husband, and I wish there was something more I could do for them except cry.

It's taken me this whole long week to come to grips with the fact that she's no longer with us.

I've wavered back and forth from shock to disbelief to sorrow to a little bit of anger -- after all, it's just not fair. She was only 38 years old. I've wept, I've raged, and I threw myself into making pints of strawberry jam. Thankfully, I have a very understanding husband who's let me weep and rage and make jam, but even better, he offered to give me a priesthood blessing of comfort, which is better than jam.

And then I could breathe a little.

And then I threw myself into finishing Stephanie's quilt.
Best therapy I could think of, and it worked.

I feel very much at peace that Samara lived the fullest life she could -- she brought a beautiful little girl into this world, and brought a lot of happiness to a lot of people. Her husband was a lucky many, and I feel truly blessed to have been called her friend.

And I can't think of anyone I'd rather dedicate my 200th post to.

Well.

superquack6@q.com (Sue Q) — Sat, 20 Jun 2009 05:25:00 +0000

That's a pretty deep subject..... if you're talking about nouns, that is.

I'm talking about adverbs.
As in, "I Am Well."

It's been ten whole days since I've had a chance to actually sit down and catalog the events of the past ten days, so I'm going to sum up as best I can, with as many pictures as I can fit in one post.

First of all, we took off last Thursday for my parents' home in my old stomping ground of Petaluma, California, in order to help them celebrate their 50th reunion. (Of course, I didn't get any current pictures of the congratulated couple -- I left that up to my brother Steve, who is slowing posting pictures a few at a time on his blog. This shot below was actually taken five years ago!)

We gathered together as many family members as we could (considering we have two missionaries out in The Field, and one nephew on the East Coast, and one niece heading to China, and various college students and Utah family members who could not come) and had ourselves a lovely, noisy, fun reunion at the Old Homestead.

But first, we began our weekend at the Oakland Temple, where we put ourselves to work doing a session for some of the names Anne and Sara have been hunting down. It was a special experience, but one that Roy and I both felt sadly lacking, due to the fact that we had driven 7 hours earlier that day. Still, the weather was clear and beautiful and we could see the great Golden Gate across the bay during a gorgeous sunset after the session. Great omen...

You're looking at the lovely downtown metroplis of Oakland in the forefront -- San Francisco is in the left background, and if you squint as you look to the right background, you can see the Golden Gate. It's not really golden -- it's more like a tangerine orange, and sometimes it's even green.

Friday morning, I met with my newly-engaged niece and got to play Dress-Up for a few hours -- as in, let's try on the Dress of Your Previous Engagement and see if we can turn it into the Dress of Your Dreams. I wish I had taken "before" pictures, but it was a very simple, plain-front dress with no waistline at all. Unfortunately for Allie, the torso was about four inches too long, and when there's no waist in a dress, the only way to shorten a torso is to cut it in half, cut out the excess bodice, and re-attach the skirt with an empire waistline. I don't know if that makes any sense to anybody, but there's nothing I love more to do than to take a dress that doesn't fit, take it apart, and make it fit. And make someone very, VERY happy in the process.

By the way, this is not the happy bride. This is my other niece, Kristie, who obliged as my human pincushion since Allie had to go to work after our initial fitting. My sister-in-law, Sonya, helped me tear the dress apart that morning, and Kristie was more than happy to model the dress so I could fit the organza on the bodice. Blah, blah, blah. Shop talk, I know -- can't help myself. But Kristie looks MAHvelous, don't you think? And Glen, I hope you're not peeking!

Friday night we had a gargantuan family pasta feed, courtesy of Melissa the Magnificant Chef Extraordinaire, complete with THE MOST AMAZING BLACKBERRY-APPLE COBBLER I'VE EVER TASTED. We fought over every last crumb. I would have given my right arm to lick the pan. And I will share the recipe as soon as I can pry it out of my sister's iron grip!

Saturday was the perfect day to take our traditional Wasden Family Hike out to Point Reyes, one of Northern California's many wonderful coastal highlights. Anne took over the camera for a while, and took pictures of every leaf, twig, and pastoral scenic view she could find. Even from twenty feet in the air, up a fallen tree!

I thought the whole hike would be a nice, leisurely stroll through the coastal wilderness, but three and a half miles later (and half an hour before we were supposed to be home), my brothers said, "Just fifteen minutes more!" and we found ourselves hoofing it up one last hill and ....

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you, THE PACIFIC OCEAN!

It never ceases to amaze me. The sheer power of the surf, the salty spray from the waves crashing on the shore (a hundred feet below us!), the rocky cliffs, the cry of the seagulls and curlews, the thick, soupy fog.... aahhhh, paradise!

And then, we hiked the four and a half miles back to the parking lot (I was really proud of Emma -- nine miles in one day is not too shabby for a little squirt like her!). We collapsed into various vehicles and came crawling home, two hours late for my dad's gourmet barbecue. (Check out Steve's blog for the pictures of that! YUMM-O!) Later that evening, we went and saw "Up" in 3-D (there really is no other way to see it!), visited the most amazing candy shop Petaluma has to offer (I love Powell's!), and polished off the evening with yet another round of Melissa's amazing cobblers. She made three this time, and we still snarfed it all!

We attended church on Sunday (and took over a third of the chapel!), and it was wonderful to catch up with friends and ward family members that I haven't seen in forever. Kids I used to change diapers on are now having babies of their own, as if I didn't feel old already! Still, it was great to see and be seen.

I didn't want to leave Petaluma without catching up with several of my high school buddies as well, so Sunday afternoon I spent on the phone trying to track them down. I only got a hold of one of my friends, and we had a marvelous hour of jawing on the phone. We caught up on the last twenty years (gulp!!) since high school, and swapped life stories and 'have you seen so-and-so's?' until we had to call it a night. Talking to Ken was like a step back into yesteryear -- he didn't sound a day older, and it was just like old days.

And now I'm going to get my walker and hobble off to bed. I'll finish the rest of my story tomorrow.