I apologize in advance for posting two times in a row about my dogs. But since I've hopped on the Flashback Friday bandwagon (scoot over Diania, Natalie and Teri) and this one of Parker is one of the oldest photos I have on my computer right now, here you go.
This is Parker when we first brought him home about five years ago. He only weighed 8 lbs. and got cold easily so Zach's mom made him a little sweater out of the sleeve of a sweatshirt. The day we picked him up was the first day we stayed in our house, even though we bought it six months earlier (so don't judge the bed-in-a-bag bed ensemble in the background). It wasn't livable until that day, though. And for two weeks we didn't have a shower and had to drive to Taylorsville every night to bathe.
This sleeve won't even fit around his leg now. Not that I've kept it in a box in our closet along with his puppy collars and onesies that he used to wear...
And this is Sydney as a sort-of puppy. We got her when she was around four months old. Like me, she's from the greatest city in the world, Price. My aunt found her there at a bank and she needed a home, so she joined our family.
For some reason, she loved getting my underwear out of the laundry basket as soon as it came out of the dryer. And she also put them on. Which is weird. We have no idea how she did this, but it sure makes for a funny photo.
A while ago I read (part of) the Dog Whisperer's book in an effort to better understand my canines' psychological issues. The book begins with something like, "Dogs are dogs. They are not people in dog costumes." I remember thinking, Well, of course. Duh. Everyone knows that.
Except that's not true for my dogs.
Although I'm fairly certain someone like Kenny Baker doesn't reside within a gray and black furry costume, roaming our house for a soft spot to lay his drool-filled jowls while he contemplates how hard it is to have to sleep 23 hours a day, I think sometimes that Parker forgets (or maybe he doesn't know) he isn't human.
He doesn't like to spend too much time outside. He refuses to lay on the ground unless he has a cushion or a soft blanket. He won't drink out of a bowl. The list goes on.
He also doesn't know that he isn't a 12-pound dog.
Last weekend, in my crack high that is a Costco visit, I forgot that at 30 pounds, Sydney really isn't a tiny dog, and bought her a bed that is way too small.
Sydney humoring me.
Apparently, though, it isn't too small for Parker. Who is a petite 135 pounds. And nearly 6 feet tall on his back legs.Once I got out the new dog bed, Parker claimed it for his own and insisted on trying to curl up on it and sleep, no matter where I moved it.
It hit me today when I was making lunch plans with Aubrey, and we were planning a date to meet in NOVEMBER, that summer is officially, unquestionably OVER. I won't miss the unbearable heat but I will miss the warm nights, barbecues on our new patio, having an evening glass of wine outdoors with Zach and the flowers' brightly colored blooms.
Stand-out moments of this summer for us are our fun trip to Zion National Park with the Millers (before they moved to South Carolina and ruined our lives), hiking with my mom and dad at Calf Creek Falls, celebrating our 6th wedding anniversary (?!?), celebrating Sydney's first birthday with us and our always-fun neighborhood game nights and barbecues.
A few of Zach's favorite times included finally getting to play baseball again (his first opportunity since college 7 years ago), finishing the long-awaited (and badly needed) concrete at our house and getting to take a couple nights a week away from the restaurant.
My highlights included going to Europe to be with one of my favorite clients in Switzerland and then getting myself--in one piece--to visit one of my best friends in the entire world, Maegan, in Rome (three trains, four bags of luggage and numerous bumps and bruises later), cheering for Zach at his baseball games alongside my fabulous in-laws, getting to see and celebrate adorable mom-to-be Kristyn and reunite with my CHS pals at our 10th high school reunion.
I love fall but am going to miss summer--especially once winter has settled itself in. Goodbye summer, catch you in May '08.
This weekend Zach and I had a great time. The last couple months, every once in a while, he has been able to leave the restaurant on Saturdays at around 3 or 4 p.m.-- a HUGE accomplishment for us. Since we started the restaurant THREE YEARS AGO he has never been home for an entire Friday or Saturday night, except for a handful of times to go to a wedding or an event out of town. Saturdays have always been especially hard because he heads to ZP at around 8 or 9 a.m. and doesn't usually get home until midnight or later and I am home alone. All. Day. Long. This makes for some very long days that usually result in me discussing celebrity gossip and politics with our dogs because there's no one else around. Which can be frustrating since Parker still hasn't forgiven Britney since the VMA debacle and Sydney is so over Barack and really, what else is there to talk about?
So, on Saturday, Zach and I went to Canella's for dinner (the second Saturday in a row for us there), rented Blades of Glory (I thought it was funny but I still fell asleep) and made caramel apples. We were serious about this, people. We even made the caramel for the caramel apples. We had planned to eat them for our dessert but we both ate so much of the caramel, chocolate and white chocolate while preparing each, that by the time they were finally ready we couldn't eat a single bite. It was still fun, though.
The two lovely, decorated apples below are Zach's creation. I'm pretty sure a certain someone has a budding career as a food stylist.
This one below is mine. The next day, Zach thought they tasted great.
My friend Amanda just kindly pointed out that I am slacking on the blogging lately. During the day I find that I have numerous ideas for hilarious, thought-provoking and groundbreaking posts but when I actually have a few minutes to post something, my memory escapes me. I'm sure I'm actually very, very clever but just have a hard time showing it.
So, in the meantime, I will take this blogging space to tell you that if you have no plans this Saturday morning you should head over to the central terrace at Sugarhouse Park for the YWCA's Stop Abuse and Violence Safe Walk, which kicks off the YWCA's annual Week Without Violence. Get there for food and festivities around 9 a.m., the walk starts at 10 and more fun will follow that.I'll be there with my fellow members of the YWCA Young Women's Leadership Board, probably having many, many, many cups of coffee since we have to be there around 7:30 a.m. to set up on a SATURDAY MORNING (All of you with kids who are making fun of me for mentioning this? I can hear your eyes rolling.). If, like me, you're sick of stories like this, this or this, [Editor's note: The sad fact is I did not have to search for any of these stories, I just had to go to the homepage of any news outlet and had way too many horrible, horrible stories from which to choose] stop by and grab some free breakfast (did I mention it's free?), win some prizes, learn a thing or two about getting involved from local charities/clubs/organizations and take a walk around the park. Bring your friends, better half, kids, even the dog--why not? This is a fun and easy way to show your support for some of the families who suffer from violence's far-reaching effects every day, and prove that you're no pushover when it comes to making your community a better place.
Since I am a terrible friend, I am late posting this, but I wanted to wish James the very best year yet. I hope this year is better than the day she got the keys to the Turismo. Better than that time she verbally harassed the sign language teacher (he deserved it). And, certainly better than the time that her and Matt's car, containing all of their worldly possessions (I'm talking to you, karaoke machine), was stolen.
The birthday girl cheering on the T-Birds, circa 1997
I was a small town girl away from my lifelong best friends for the first time ever and was relieved to find two new friends, Jamie and Marcae, just next door. I thought Jamie was the coolest big city girl I'd ever met. She was from Riverton. We lived next door to each other in Stonebrook Apartments and bonded over our Early Childhood Development class, late night junk food marathons, the fact we both have dads named Randy, her almost-pledging-a-sorority misadventures, making fun of our neighbor boys and nighttime sledding runs at Brian Head.
Me, James and Monica looking awesome at Willowbrook #40, 1998
How cute is this? We loved being roomies so much we had PROFESSIONAL PHOTOS TAKEN. Our b-day girl is in the front.
10 years later, Jamie has proven to be not just a fun college neighbor, and later, roommate, but a great role model in pretty much every area of life. She's a fantastic wife and mother, a champion of underdogs' causes and just an all around really, really incredibly good person. She's the kind of friend you always want in your corner. I'm so glad she's in mine.
One of the last times Zach and I were in one of my favorite places on Earth (Price!), we decided to walk around and take some pictures. Well, I decided to walk around and take some pictures. Zach was a good sport and accompanied me. With his charming demeanor and great set of legs he proved to be an excellent lovely assistant.
While we were on the corner of the bustling metropolitan crossroads known as the intersection of Price's Main Street and Carbon Avenue, a woman in a late-80's-model family sedan was parked at the stoplight and stared right at us, revealing she was clearly annoyed. She then turned to her friend who was driving the car, and loudly said, "What the hell they takin' pich-ures of?"
This summer I (again) tried my hand at growing fresh produce. Last year our modest little garden provided us with squash, zucchini, a chili pepper or two and about one ripe tomato. We decided that we planted the tomatoes way too late. So this year, as soon as we were able, we put three tomato plants in the ground and watered them lovingly to ensure our timely arrival of red vegetables. I mean fruit. I mean vegetables...
About six weeks or so ago our little green tomatoes started turning yellow. Not long until they are ripe! Right? Well, we kept waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting and our little tomatoes were STILL not red.
By now we have about 15-20 half-way ripe tomatoes on the vine. They've been that way for at least a month.
Finally, I decided to crack one open.
Turns out we planted yellow tomatoes. Very ripe, very yellow tomatoes.