No More Crazy Eight

My blog was originally titled Crazy Eight. My sister named it for me back when I made my first fluttering attempts at blogging.  I couldn't start a blog until I had a title and I couldn't come up with a title and would still be agonizing over it now if she hadn't set the whole thing up for me. The title was a great fit for several years but shortly after one of my crazy eight married the name no longer fit. I adore my son-in-law and consider him one of my own thus we were no longer "crazy eight" but what?  Fine nine? Getting crazier nine? Nine and counting? I don't know. Suffice it to say, it was time for a name change. I also got so far behind in my blogging that I felt both overwhelmed and uninspired so I stopped blogging all together because that is what I do under duress but I have missed it, blogging. So now I am back. It took me a while to decide what template to change to and what to rename my blog. I have agonized over it. Donatella finally came to me just as I was falling asleep last night. I am going to try it out for awhile and see if it works for me.

I googled it to make sure that it didn't mean anything weird. It doesn't mean anything weird. (Unless you consider Donatella Versace to be a weird person which based on the images that came up during my google search that is entirely possible but I don't really know anything about her except that she is intensely fashionable and since it wouldn't hurt me one bit to be more fashionable I am not going to let that deter me from selecting Donatella as the new title for my blog. But please bear in mind my blog is not meant to be named after her.)

Donatella was also the name of a flavor of gelato (Nutella was the basis of the flavor--I know, how can that be a bad thing?) at this great place, now defunct, called Maestro's which had the best Gelato on this side of the Mediterranean.

Donatella is actually quite versatile. It could mean, "Dona tell a.....story, experience, thought, poem, etc. Or it could mean, if you say it with an Italian accent "Do (as in dough) na (as in not) tella which translated could be, "Don't tell." Fun huh?

Donatella actually means "beautiful gift" in Italian. Perfect! Right? I shall endeavor to make my blog a beautiful gift.

Arizona

These are pictures from my trip to Arizona in May.

I am itching to go again.

I do love a good road trip.

I want to take my children on a vacation.

I want them to travel the road that I traveled so many times.

I want them to love Arizona like I love Arizona.

Which they can't do unless I take them there and tell them things.

Grandpa could give them his infamous tour.

He is a native afterall.

My children are native to Utah--so far.

Who knows where they will land?

Parachutes, Weddings, Collisions, OH MY!

Not only have I really wanted to post lately, I feel like I need to post. So here I am. Want to know what pushed me back over the edge into blogland? Well, several things.

1. My niece jumped out of an airplane. That inspired me. In my head I actually thought, "If Nicole can fly, so can I! But not with a parachute, with a pen." (Well, not a pen, but a laptop.) http://poppinsko.blogspot.com/ Yes, she's crazy. In a good way.

2. I was studying late, at the library. While I was studying, I was eating almonds and chocolate. Eating almonds and chocolate made me think of my Aunt Myrna. I am just sorry for all of you Aunt Myrnaless people bumbling your way through lives devoid of knowing one of the most joyful, loving, giving, jolly people. There may be somewhere, someone equally as pleasant and jocular but there is no one, anywhere more so than she. While I was thinking of Aunt Myrna another actual, clear thought came into my head, "I need to blog about Aunt Myrna." Aunt Myrna is a phenomenal person in her own right but she just happened to give birth to one of my other favorite persons, my cousin, Carla, who could do no wrong. I was going to grow up to be just like her. I could go on and on--more blog topics for other days.

3. Then there was that fabulous event in July where Samantha and Brandon were officially and marvelously married. The hitching went off without a hitch. Seriously, not even a hiccup. Well, okay there were a few hiccups on the otherwise most perfect day ever.
All of this portion must be read in a very fast, very low mumbly voice like the people on the end of the commercials that are rattling off the disclaimers about all of the possible ways you can die if you use their product
I temporarily lost my cell phone at a critical juncture in the day, my dad wasn't able to come, I weigh about 1000 pounds, my youngest children will behave shockingly like children and look disgruntled in the one and only family picture I have had in about 5 years. (I would have thought they would be overjoyed to finally be in a family picture where they are visible, not still in my womb--preconception.) 
The days events were brilliantly and beautifully photographed by Jennifer Grigg, yes, THE Jennifer Grigg, and should be where they can be seen by all so I have been thinking, "I need to post some photos on my blog." Of course, I have actually been thinking that since May when the engagement photos were taken.
4. I am back in school and it is moving much like a bullet train--very fast. "What's that up there on the track? Dang, it looks like an oncoming train! Yep, sure enough". That oncoming train would be my job. Unfortunately both trains are packed with members of my family, close friends, any semblance of spirituality I once may have almost thought I had, homemaking skills, gardening, tennis playing, summer hours spent with my children at the swimming pool. (I taught all of my children how to swim except for Jeremiah and Corban who, I am afraid, secretly doubt that I know how to swim. Or maybe they think that I'll melt, like the Wicked Witch of the West. [Could happen.]  Scott has taught them. [to swim, not that I'll melt. I didn't catch that until I reread it just now--very funny. punctuation does matter. Not that anyone could tell that I understand that based upon my incredible overuse of parenthesis.] He has done an amazing job but "WAIT! That used to be my job. Didn't it? Wasn't it?" It was until I got on that blasted train.)
So, back to the two trains that are on a collision course with eachother, I am thinking that blogging will be a good buffer, stress reducer, a type of therapy if you will. I am hoping that it will act as a lever to switch one of the trains on to another track sort of like that horrible movie they showed in Seminary. The one about the dad who was a switch operator for a railroad and his son comes running on the track to tell him to come home. The dad has to choose between the train full of people or his son.--In the case of my impending trains colliding however, there isn't a person on the track there is just the other train. Hopefully my magical blog/lever/switch will put one of the two trains smoothly on to another track and they will both just travel safely until they arrive at their respective destinations.)

6. My loyal friends and family who would occassionally, very nicely ask me if I was thinking of maybe blogging again,ever, can be given much credit, or discredit, depending on your perspective, for my return to blogdom.

7. The most awesome, brilliant and inspiring bit of advertising that I have seen since the good old Dr. Pepper commercials. Check it out, if you haven't already on the incredible singing devil's blog. http://unwillingcougar.blogspot.com/. I watch it several times a day because it makes me happy and because it's in a library which is where I spend all of my time these days. This particular library is where I used to spend a lot of my time many, many moons ago. Brilliant.
I might go watch it again right now.

Those are just some of the reasons I have returned to the land o' the blogs. So here I am again! We'll just see how it goes.

Identity Crisis, sort of

Sometimes, lately, I find myself thinking to myself, "This is not who I am supposed to be." Hmm. What does that mean exactly? I am not entirely sure. This recurring phrase pops into my brain at the most random and sometimes unexpected times. Like, today, for example. I was driving home from some serious errand running. I turned onto my street, that I love. The day was beautiful, everything looked fantastic, super-imposed, brilliant colors, early dusk (one of my favorite times of the day). Boom. There it was. That thought. What does it mean exactly? I don't get it.

I've had the thought while at the grocery store, at church, at home, in my room, on a walk, there is no rhyme or reason to when the thought will present itself. It just does. It is extra weird because I think that I am essentially happy with my life. Very strange. I will continue to ponder this cryptic message to myself from myself.

Johnathon

Here's the latest on the Johnathon front. He comes home on June 1st. The countdown has begun!

Hello,
I had a good birthday. We went to my ward misson leader's house because it was also his wife's b-day so that was fun. We have someone scheduled for baptism on June 5. Tell bishop Skinner that I will speak with him on the 13th. Do you know what my topic is on the home ward talk? My week was normal other than the fact that I'm 21 now and I wasn't the week before.
Talk to you later.
John.

I did pass my class. But I no longer have a 4.0 G.P.A. It was short lived. My 4.0. Just one semester. It felt nice, but a little strange. I like to think the "B" in my 4 credit class represents balanced or bully, as in "bully for you" instead of bad or boo (think Princess Bride).

The fact is, I am in a funk. I haven't felt like I could blog in my present state of funkiness but now I have determined that it may be a potential cure, a shot in the arm or the behind, so to speak. I'm going give it a try.

Yes, I know. I have failed in my daily blogging attempt but I believe that repentance in the form of an occassional double dose of blogging can be applied in this situation. I'll make up for the days that I missed. Eventually.

 Aside from not quite finishing that blasted, never-ending IOP that was due tonight (I need to talk to database support as soon as they open in the morning), and being "under the weather," Mother's Day was very nice.  My children and husband showered me with love, books, poetry, flowers, handmade cards, storebought cards, and served me a lovely lunch. I was also acknowledged for my motherliness in a blog (thanks Nicole) and a text and a phone call (Johnathon). I feel undeserving but enjoyed the accolades none the less.


I did not, however, return the love to the motherly women in my life, so tomorrow, promptly upon finishing up that dreaded IOP, I will belatedly wish much happiness to those who I neglected today.