Reinventing Myself . . .

Note: I wrote this over 8 years ago. It was a draft that I just published because I want to remember the idea of fictionalizing my life. I don't know if I'll ever actually do what I talk about in this post, but it still intrigues me.



I couldn’t sleep last night. I’m not sure if I woke up because my stomach hurt or because I had a business idea in my dream and needed to think about it in the non-sleep world.

Either way, I was awake at 1:40 A.M. and finally got out of bed at 2:30 A.M. My head didn’t hit the pillow again until 6:30 A.M., but don’t cry for me Ike and Tina. After all, I’m not a sleep-deprived mother of a new baby. (Although sometimes I think a baby sounds nice. Physically impossible, but nice.)

So back to this business idea I had during my dream . . . (anyone is welcome to it)

In my dream I was visiting a girlfriend out-of-state who owned an interior décor store. It was filled with everything I love – antiques, country paraphernalia, old, used and distressed utilitarian items, handiwork from by-gone eras -- beautiful stuff! She had a friend, Anna Jones, who was also visiting from out of town. We were talking about our love of the beautiful items we were surrounded by.

Anna mentioned that she was from Indiana, and that’s when my brain went into overdrive.

“You live in Indiana, and your last name is Jones?” I asked. “You should open a shop and call it ‘Indiana Jones’ with the advertising hook , ‘Always a shopping adventure.’”

In my dream last night it sounded like a great idea. Now it’s the light of day, I realize it’s not stellar. Even in the wee hours of the morning I knew that pursuing that idea wasn’t for me. Instead, I became fascinated with the name of Anna Jones. That’s what really kept me up.

In the end, I created a new writing persona – Anna Jones. Fictionally speaking, she’s me.

If my dreams were to come true, I’d write as Anna Jones for on-line magazines like parents.com and readers would click over to my blog and become loyal followers. Soon I’d have a reading base that would make it possible for me to approach a publisher/newspaper syndicate/agent and start a real writing career.

I’m thinking this new little writing persona might be a good thing on many levels. For starters, it may prevent me from having dreams that I’m pregnant. (Where do those come from when you’re youngest is nine?) I can live as Anna Jones who will be discovering she’s pregnant with Naomi in April.

I will be writing fiction -- finally! And with fiction the rule is, "Write what you know." Check.

I can relive those funny/exasperating/touching moments from my children’s childhood. Jeremiah (Bug) is four, Abigail (Lou) turns two in April, and Naomi (Beans) will be born in early December. As I write about the Jones children, my own kids might enjoy looking back on their younger years too.

Plus, I’ll have an outlet for all those “From the Trenches” columns I wrote when my kids were younger. In fact, I’ll pretty much be altering them to reflect Anna’s life. And I’ll make them better. Hipper. More fun. Real must-read stuff! Who knows, maybe the Chicken Soup publishers will run a few of my new-and-improved pieces in upcoming books.

One thing is for sure – I’ll be staying busy!

Queen of Quite-a-lot

A few days ago Science Teacher Mommy mentioned a friend on her blog who she called the ‘Queen of Food Storage.’ That got me thinking. What could I be the queen of?

I wondered if I could qualify as the Chicken Queen. I’ve got four leghorn hens, and I feed and water them every morning, and collect their eggs every day. I also saved our smaller sunflower heads, let them dry and now feed the seeds to the chickens. A few years ago I kept a detailed chicken account, tracking feed expenses against income from selling eggs. This time around I’m tracking my chicken input/output in my garden/farm/canning journal. But wait, that’s not all. Someday in the far, far, future we’re going to put in a large concrete driveway and a shop. At that time we’ll permanently move the dog run and set up the permanent chicken coop and run. I have been scheming about the perfect hen house – one where I won’t have to step into the coop or enclosure to feed, water or gather eggs. So far my design is all up in my brain, but any day now I plan to transfer it to graph paper. (When you take the time to draw your dreams on graph paper, carefully measured, labeled and to scale, husbands have a very hard time finding valid reasons not to run with your ideas.) P.S. My chicken coop design, as I conceive it now, will resemble an old-fashioned outhouse. Funny, huh!

You could call me the Queen of Poop. I know, it’s not a very glamorous title, but it’s the truth. Our dog is an outside dog, and her kennel is at the end of our driveway near our garage and our neighbor’s property. I don’t think it’s fair to make our neighbors smell our dog, and we don’t want to smell her either. So I scoop poop. Everyday. Sometimes twice a day. When Annie poops in the yard, my family is sure to let me know where it is so I can clean it up. I keep the scoopings in a lined bucket that get’s emptied into our ‘black beauty’ garbage can and taken to the curb every Thursday morning. We also have a garage cat. That means that he spends large amounts of time in the garage or out of doors. We have a kitty litter box for him in the garage. Guess who gets to scoop it? Me. Just think how well the title ‘Queen of Poop’ would fit if I had a child still in diapers. My oldest daughter, as an infant, did projectile poop during diaper changes. It was way worse than the golden arches that little boys sometimes nail their parents with!

By the way, this whole line of thinking has reminded me of one of my favorite scenes from The Princess Bride. You know, the part where Princess Buttercup is dreaming about her coronation and an old hag accosts her and cries, “Bow down to the Queen of Filth, the Queen of Slime, the Queen of Putrescence…” Those are some mighty strong words. She probably didn’t know she was actually talking about me. (You’re welcome to bow if you want to.)

Hmmmm. What else could I be the queen of? The Queen of Routine. Yeah, that could be me. The Queen of Mean. Not my usual role, but on really hormonal days it probably fits. I’m not the Queen of Clean. That could probably go to Alison D. How about ‘The Quirky Queen?’ A lot of us could probably go by that title.

I bet there are people in your life who could rein under the following titles:

Queen of Carbs
Queen of Green (a real environmentally friendly kind of gal)
Queen of Lean (opposite of Jack Sprat’s wife)
Queen Kong. (Who reminds me of a favorite character from James Arrington’s ‘Farley Family Reunion.’)
Queen of Quackers (Sue Randalman, our former library director, comes to mind)
Queen of Spleen (What’s the official title for doctors that deal with spleens? Does that fall under internal medicine?)
Dairy Queen
Hairy Queen (our would ‘Queen Hairy’ sound better?)
The Marry Queen (the woman who has been married and divorced seven times.)

I should probably stop there.

Now that I’ve fully divulged my queenly roles, it’s your turn. What are you the queen of?

A video that puts my zit in perspective

I have a monster zit on my chin. (See photo at right.) You know, the kind that looks like a small red dot on the surface but has a sub-skin surface area the size of Montana. That is what my zit is like.

I'd like to forget about it, but I keep accidentally bumping it and reminding myself that it's there.

Finally, after a morning of zit-induced grumpiness, I found something that kept me distracted from contemplating my zit for a full five minues. Plus I belly laughed. When I wasn't crying over the balance of our retirement funds.

I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. (BTW I found it on the Protein Power blog.)

Here is the Post I Promised ...

I promised to write about how to live within your means. This is that post.

If you'd like greater financial freedom, the following video has the answer:



Now I have fulfilled my obligation to spread the good word of financial freedom. I can now return to my regularly scheduled blog posts.














Okay, since you're still here it's obvious that you want me to share some of my personal tips on saving money. Here they are ...

Never buy new furniture. When people come to visit and see your Early College Student decor they will gladly give you their gently used furnishings when they get new ones. Besides, it's much less stressful to have your children learn to potty train on used furniture. Also, when your daughters spill the nail polish remover on your kitchen table and it eats off a large part of the finish, they won't die. And neither will you.

Never buy new vehicles. And be sure to live at least an hour from both sets of grandparents. When your old cars become so old that they are no longer reliable for travel to the grandparents' houses, you'll be surprised at how inexpensively you can purchase a used car from your own parents.

Don't go shopping. If you go bargain hunting, you'll find bargains. If you go shopping, you'll buy something.

Don't look at sales ads. This in an important part of managing your money. Looking at sales ads only makes you want to own what is being advertised. They may even make you feel like you are depriving your family of a lifestyle that everyone else is enjoying. Everyone else is not living a lavish lifestyle, that's the evil of advertising working its deceitful ways on your impressionable mind. Don't believe what you see in advertisements.

Make a list and stick to it. Never go shopping without a list. At the bottom of every list write "etc." That way if you find a bargain, you can purchase it and hold your head up high, knowing that you stuck with your list!

If you need any additional tips or have questions, just let me know.

Bart Simpson's Influence on my Son . . .

I picked up Loula Belle and her friend from volleyball practice on Wednesday evening and then headed up to the golf course to pick up Bug. On the way home in the car, he told us about the prank that his friend pulled when making their tee time for the next day.

It all started on the bus home from junior high. As Bug and his golfing buddies didn't have a cell phone, they asked to borrow one in order to set up a tee time for the next day. The boy who let them use his phone did so on one condition -- that they have to put the reservation under an obnoxious name.

The guys tossed around some really dumb ideas, so Bug piped up with something he'd heard on The Simpsons. He told his buddy to call the golf course and set up a tee time and when they ask for the name say, "Last name of Rotch." Then, when they ask for a first name, tell them "Mike."

So when the golf course employee calls out the reservation on the P.A. system the next day he'll say something like, "Mike Rotch teeing off on #1." (If you're not getting the junior high humor of this, try saying 'Mike Rotch' outloud a couple times.)

I busted a gut laughing at their stupid antics. But I also told Bug that he'd better hope that their golf coach wasn't near the club house the next day when the tee reservation is read off. He might not think it was very funny, and Bug and his buddies might get in a bit of trouble.

What was Bug's response? He decided that he didn't need to go to the golf course after school on Thursday. (He did have a foursome set up with his dad and grandpas later that evening.) I told him that he could just call and change the name, but he didn't want to.

I guess that Bug really isn't cut out to be a Bart Simpson. I'm guessing it will be a while before he pulls another stunt like that.

(I am going to grill him when he gets home from golfing tonight and see if the golf course guy ever did read off the bogus name. The Simpson side of me is hoping he did!)

I Looked Like a Poster Child for Some Strange Disease...

I know a girl who will be wearing a supportive brace for 23 1/2 hours everyday. In a show of solidarity, I'm posting this photo from my teenagehood when I too wore a brace for 23 1/2 hours everyday. (It was after my first knee surgery -- ACL replacement.)

You'll also notice that my face is grotesquely swollen. That's because I'd also had my wisdom teeth out. The photo was taken six days following the surgery. We should have taken a shot within two days after surgery. That's when my face was so swollen that you couldn't see the bridge of my nose. I looked like Porky Pig's sister -- with a knee brace.

My family has a history of taking photos when we're at our worst. When my brother Mike got nailed in the eye with a baseball in his youth, my folks dug out Dad's old boxing gloves, had Mike put them on and then took his picture. Also, when Mom had an allergic reaction to something from Sizzler's salad bar she swelled up something awful. She had my dad take a picture, but I've never seen it. I'm guessing that either the photo was too gruesome, or Mom decided that nearly going into anaphylaxis wasn't something she wanted documented on film.

Two-wheeled Dating Activity . . .

Is your marriage or dating life in need of a little pick-me-up? I have just the thing for you . . . Wheel Barrow Polo.

Back in April of 2007 I wrote a post about a fun date night Hubby and I had been invited to. The highlight of the evening was the fast-paced and thrilling game of wheel barrow polo.

Ron and Nancy, the creative geniuses behind the new kind of polo game, also run a corn maze. We had so much fun playing wheel barrow polo, they figured that other couples would enjoy it as well, so they bought 12 two-wheeled wheel barrows and got set to offer it as an event down at their corn maze.

I wanted to get a bunch of friends and spouses together and play our hearts out down by the corn maze, so I called Nancy this morning about prices and times. She told me that wheel-barrow polo is off. Their insurance company said it wouldn't cover it. I am seriously bummed!

But, if you've ever wanted a two-wheeled wheel barrow, now is your chance. Nancy said they invested in heavy-duty ones with metal handles that will hold up to 550 pounds. (You and your spouse could both ride in it. But who would push you around?) I'm not sure if it's exactly like the one picture above, but you get the idea. They are for sale for $50. If you're interested e-mail Nancy: jensenrt@yahoo.com

But hurry. Now that the word is out about how fun wheel-barrow polo is (and the two-wheeled barrows offer the greatest competitive advantages) Nancy's inventory won't last long.

How many journals does one woman need?

The following is a description of all the various journals I keep. Some women like shoes. I like journals.

On-line journals or blogs (2). Belly Acre Farm (this one) and Losing the Low Carb Way, where I post about my new eating lifestyle.

Fitness Journal. This is a notebook where I write about what I'm doing to gain better health and fitness. I contemplate what's working and what's not. It's where I write down handy tips and helpful health hints. When I have an epiphany relating to my health, that's where I write it.

Food Journal. Nothing glamorous here, just a notebook where I write down what I eat every day. I've been keeping a food journal since second grade -- that's when I began keeping a regular journal, but for some reason I'd write down what I ate for lunch every day. I can also tell you what we ate at the big family feed on the day that I was baptized. Weird.

Garden/Canning Journal. This started out as a chicken journal, where I was going to write everything about raising and keeping chickens. But there wasn't a lot to write, so I added gardening and canning stuff to it. I can tell you how many cups of freezer corn we used last year (36) and how many quarts of beans we had on hand before canning any this year (67). I also write down what I want to try in the garden for the coming year. I use this journal a lot at this time of year.

Gratitude Journal. I've been keeping a gratitude journal on and off since 1997. The great thing about them is that they can lift you from the blues. And they're a journal that you can share with your kids. My daughters like to read through mine every now and then. Keeping a gratitude journal is like counting your blessings.

Spiritual Observations/Reflections Journal. I only started keeping this one a couple years ago. It's nice to have a place to record spiritual promptings and impressions. Sometimes when things get challenging, I find it helpful to re-read entries and remind myself about what it is the Lord wants me to be doing.

Book Journal. Whenever I read a book I write down the title, author, number of pages, copyright date and a brief description of the book. All my postings on GoodReads are from this handy little journal. I began keeping it so that when friends asked me for a book recommendation I'd be able to give them lots of ideas.

Travel Journal. I was given this as a gift in June of this year. So there's not a lot of trips listed in it, but I'm hoping to fill it up before the end of my life.

Cute Kid Things Journals (3). I've kept a steno notebook on each of my three children where I write down the cute and funny things they do. For example, when Bug was 2 1/2 years old my mom asked him, "What do you eat that makes you grow big and strong?" He replied, "Red popsicles!" When Loula Belle was four, Hubby's folks were watching her. She asked Grandma, "What language do you speak?" Grandma said, "English." "Oh," said Lou, "Well I speak Regular." Less than two years ago Hubby made 100% whole wheat pancakes for breakfast. The kids weren't excited to eat them, but Beans said it best. She said, "I'd rather be hungry than eat these."

So, how many journals was that? An even dozen. Hmmmm. What else could I record in a journal? I'd love to hear your ideas.

Odds and Ends -- Mostly Ends

Yes. That is my rear end. We were out picking beans and Beans, my youngest daughter, kept slapping bean leaves on my bum. I knew she was leaving leaves, I just didn't know they'd make a smiley face when she was done.

Being the good sport that I am, I posed for this photo by, well . . . picking beans. (Watch out Weight Watchers, here I come!)

In other news, I've been trying to find a zippier way to say "endure to the end." Ever since I was a teen that phrase has brought on a fit of deep sighs and rolling of the eyes. Somehow it just conjures up drudgery for me. But I'm trying to change that. I thought it would be fun to find an anagram for "endure to the end" -- use the same letters but rearrange them to form another meaningful, less chore-ish phrase.

When this month's edition of Family Fun Magazine came, it had the web address where you can get anagrams. (Remember, it's summer. My brain is on vacation.)

Here are the serious phrase options for endure to the end:

Ended, thou enter.
Needed -- one truth.
Heed Noted Tuner.

Here are the non-serious phrases for endure to the end:

Needed -- hen tutor
Endure the toned (a challenge for us non-toned.)
tended teen hour
tended hen route
tethered nude (definitely NOT what's part of enduring to the end!)

Just for fun, I entered my name. I got, "A-ha! Sincere hints." And, "Heartaches in sin." Yikes!

Hubby's name yielded, "Ninja chore hens." Bug is a "research ninja." Loula Belle's name predicted, "Manana, sad hen." Beans's results predicted a future profession: I heal antennas. Try it for yourself. Don't get addicted!

Google’s #1 Overweight Housewife

I have a nifty little counter on my blog from StatCounter.com. I can log in at their website and see how many people have visited my site and what search terms brought them there. (Among many other fun statistics.)

I’ve had people click on Belly Acre Farm looking for “FLDS Swimwear” and “how to get on well with nagging mothers.” No joke. Today when I logged in at StatCounter I saw that someone from Milford, Connecticut googled the term “overweight housewife” and landed on my blog for less than a second. (Apparently my entry, “Overweight Housewife on Wheels” was not quite what they wanted.)

Not only can I tell what search terms brought someone to my site, but I can also click on their search and see where my blog came up in their google search. So get this . . . if you go to google.com and enter overweight housewife, my blog is the first entry to come up.

I don’t know whether to be ashamed or proud.

Take a Cheap Family Staycation!

The other morning I was glancing through the Wall Street Journal and read an article on how staycations are catching on across the nation. The article was geared for wealthy executives and didn't really address the needs of frugal families. To remedy that, I'm providing my best ideas on how to take a cheap family staycation.

(Note: I'm doing this on the fly. No research. Tightwad brainstorming at its finest!)

First of all, choose your destination. Where have you always wanted to take your family? This is the time to dream BIG because you won’t really be going there. A really good staycation is a journey you take in your mind. What about Mexico? Yeah, that sounds about right. (You can adapt the ideas here to work for any destination.)

Approach your staycation as if you were really going to Mexico. Create a budget, set a date, put it on the calendar, and schedule time off from work. Taking time off from work for a staycation is kind of like calling in sick to stay home and goof off. But it won’t end up in your personnel file.

Next, check out language CDs from your library. Buy a Spanish/English dictionary. Make labels in Spanish for everyday items around your house so that your children can learn some vocabulary. Look for books and DVDs at the library that will give you and your kids insight into Mexican culture and history. If you have teenagers who have taken Spanish in school, consider making one night a week Spanish speaking only. (You won’t need a translator when they sigh and roll their eyes.)

As any mother will tell you, family vacations are a lot of work. Staycations are no exception. To make your experience as authentic as possible, consider creating individual passports for family members complete with photos. (Note: Real passports are expensive. Adult passports are $100 and are good for 10 years. Children's passports cost $85.00 and are only good for five years.)

Prepare to write to family and friends about your trip to Mexico by creating your own Mexican postcards on cardstock from on-line photos. During your trip have everyone write a line or two to Grandpa and Grandma. Grandparents love getting letters from their grandkids. And when they see the lengths you’ve gone to save money by staying home for your family vacation, they might feel sorry for your kids. They may even send a reply letter with some cold, hard cash.

Staycations are cheaper than a regular vacation, but they still cost money. If you're trying to make your family trip as authentic as possible, consider investing in maid service. You can justify it as a means to reproduce the effect of staying in a hotel. (You’re doing the planning. You might as well enjoy a few perks!) Other ways to simulate a hotel stay include:

Place glassware by the bathroom sinks with paper covers. (Cupcake liners serve as easy covers.)

Fold the toilet paper end into a point each morning.

Call room service. (Pay a friend of neighbor to perform this job.)

Learn how to turn towels into animals. (Check out this video.)


If you’re heading to Mexico, stock up on bottled water. During your staycation don’t drink tap water. You might also want to arrange for taxi service during your trip. The best way to get an authentic experience is to hire a recently licensed teenager. Have your kids practice asking, “Are we there yet?”

During your staycation be sure to visit all the Mexican restaurants in your community. Try to give your order in Spanish. Insist that everyone in your family learn how to say, “Please pass the salsa” in Spanish. When the waiter comes with the check, have everyone say, “Muchas gracias!” in unison. If there aren’t restaurants in your area open for breakfast, make scrambled eggs garnished with salsa and cilantro at home. (They’re called wayvose rancheros. But I forgot how to spell “wayvose.”)

Many destinations in Mexico are known for great snorkeling. Get some snorkel gear and explore the bodies of water in your area. Snorkel in an irrigation ditch. Try the local lakes. Your neighbor’s backyard koi pond might also prove to be an interesting excursion. Stay away from square lakes. They’re sewage lagoons. They are off limits to snorkelers.

You can’t come home from a Mexican vacation without a tan. Don’t lay out in the sun without sunscreen! Instead, invest in sun-less tanning products. My favorite is Loreal’s Sublime mist. Unlike many of the lotions that I’ve tried, the spray mist from this products doesn’t leave me streaky. I know from experience that pre-teen girls also like this product. Just advise your kids that it’s not meant to be applied so heavy that it runs down their legs. If that should happen, my daughter Lou has learned that a pumice stone will rub the runs right off.

Look for a Latin grocery store in your city. Buy a pre-made piñata and fill it with Latin candies and treats. If your area doesn’t have a grocery store that caters to the Hispanic population, most large chain grocery stores have sections that will have similar products. Go out on a limb and try something new. Let each of your children select something to buy and try back at the hotel, uh . . . I mean home. Have a family fiesta.

When your family staycation is over, don’t wait too long before planning next year’s staycation. This time make it a couple staycation. That’s when you send the kids off to their grandparents’ house and you and your spouse stay home alone for a week.

Who says saving money can’t be fun?

5 Things -- Tagged

5 things on my to-do list today:
1. Watch my two little nieces -- Sarah and Holly
2. Launday, laundry, and more laundry
3. Water outdoor flowers
4. Mow the lawn
5. Write up our travel itinerary for my parents

5 snacks that I enjoy:
1. Swedish fish
2. Cinnamon bears
3. Popcorn (buttery or carmel)
4. apples
5. grapes

5 things I would do if I were suddenly a billionaire:
1. Pay tithing.
2. Race in a stock car at Rocky Mountain Raceway
3. Buy a hot air balloon and learn to fly it -- hire a crew.
4. Donate $10,000 to my favorite local charities: CAPSA, The child and family support center, our city's library (or a county-wide library system if it flies), The Humane Society. (What are your favorite local charities?)
5. Fly with my hubby and kids to Tokyo, Japan and introduce them to my host family.

5 bad habits that I have:
1. I can burp on demand and I've taught the skill to each of my own children and a few neighborhood kids as well.
2. Having unrealistic expectations of people. When they don't meet them it leads to impatience on my part. (Will impatience always be my nemesis?)
3. I can be loud and obnoxious.
4. Sleeping in instead of getting up to exercise.
5. Interupting others and completing their sentences for them -- an impatience problem again.

5 places that I have lived:
1. Cache Valley, Utah
2. Tokyo, Japan (I was an exchange student for a summer in high school.)
3. Blackfoot, Idaho
4. Albuquerque, New Mexico
5. College Ward, UT (twice)

5 jobs that I have had:
1. Berry picker at the Blotter berry patch. (Also at Zollinger's fruit farm.)
2. SnowShak shaved ice maker.
3. Credit manager, accounts payable, head of the plumbing department -- Cantwell Lumber.
4. Bagger, checker, front-end-manager at Macey's grocery store.
5. Family Manager -- my current position.

5 things people don't know about me:
1. I burned my tongue on a curling iron -- checking to see if it was hot. It was. (age 14)
2. I speak fluent pig latin and even put that on a job application. I'm sure that's why they hired me at Macey's.
3. I was raised by very strict parents. I'm not as strict as they were.
4. I like my freckles.
5. I love being in front of an audience of almost any sort.

I'm tagging: Julie, Nan, Alison, Heidi and DeeAnn. (That means you get to post a 5 Things entry on your blog -- or e-mail it to me.)

It Could Happen to You

Many things in life are a pain in the butt. Including toothpicks.

Sunday after church let out, Hubby finally arrived in the foyer and we headed to the car. I opened my door and sat down. And then screamed, “Aaaaah!”

My initial cry was followed by a series of wimpers, “Ow, ow, ow!” as I tried to remove whatever it was that was poking into my behind. (It felt like a darning needle.)

It was, in actuality, a toothpick. A round, pokey-ended toothpick. And as I sat down it went through my denim skirt, slip, and undergarments and into my derriere. (This is my first time typing that word, and I want you to know that I got it right!)

My hubby’s initial worried, “What’s wrong?” was soon followed by robust laughter. Lou, the only other occupant of the car, joined in too. And although still in pain, I saw the humor and chuckled a bit myself.

Upon arriving home Hubby and Lou were quick to share my mishap with Beans and Bug. Everyone thought it hilarious. But it was a nasty little poke and still stung. Just before retreating to my room and shutting the door I said, “I bet it drew blood.”

Sure enough, it did! I asked Hubby to come put a bandage on my behind. (That’s a first.) He thought that a little Neosporin would be a good idea too.

And that’s when I lost it. Hubby had to tell me to quit shaking (from laughter) so that he could put the bandage on. (It was difficult, but I finally held my breath and did it. It was Safety Man and Accident Girl at their finest.)

I soon got over the hilarity of the situation and was surprised at how long the pain lasted. I was still a little bit sore the next morning, but I’m happy to report that I’m doing fine now.

The incident did remind us of the time Bug had a diaper rash at age two. He was a firm believer in the kiss-it-better cure and went to his dad and said, “Daddy, my bottom hurts. Kiss my bottom.”

P.S. We have no idea how the toothpick got there. Our door were locked during services, and no one had any other leads.

Farm Humor

This is a photo of the chicken enclosure under construction. Won't our four chickens live in high style?

Speaking of chickens, my mother told me a joke the other day that had deep meaning.

Q: Do you know why a chicken coop has two doors?

A: Because if it had four, it would be a sedan.


And, wouldn't you know it, our coop has two doors. Here I thought she had some farm knowledge that she was going to impart to little old me. Tee-hee.

In other news, MEN -- PAY ATTENTION! If your wife steps on the scale and groans, then asks, "Why is it going up?!" It is not a time to play Mr. Fix-it. She does not really want an answer. Saying, "Maybe it's because you're not exercising at all," won't help her feel better. She was just asking a hypothetical question.

The better response is, "It's just a number. I love you no matter what the scale says." And mean it!

Should you get this wrong you just might get a glass of cold water thrown at you over the shower curtain the next time you're showering.

And finally, I've been thinking about what I can do for my next high school reunion's talent show. At our last reunion I performed some corny "magic" tricks that were supposed to loosen everyone up by getting them to laugh. It didn't work. Next time I'll show them my amazing new talent -- swallowing many large pills all at once.

Just yesterday I swallowed four gigantic pills (1 vitamin, 2 supplements, and a RX medication) in one swallow. Top that! Safety Man piped up, "Swallowing too much at once is a choking hazard."

That's okay because I'm not planning to attend any high school reunions until our 60th. I'll be 88. So what if I choke. At least I won't be around to hear the silence.

6-word mini-memoirs

I read a book review printed in my local paper from the Christian Science Monitor for the book, Not Quite What I Was Planning by Larry Smith and Rachel Fershleiser. In the spirit of six-word mini-memoirs, I’ve written my own. You choose which you’d rather read. (And possibly vote in the comments section or leave six-word comments. Six-word anything. Try it!)

My Mini-Memoirs

Love to laugh ‘til I snort.

Magna cum laude stays at home.

The brains behind Ramen for dinner.

Dreamer, schemer, soccer game screamer.

Mormon mother mines meaning, makes messes.

Great expectations lead to reality checks.

Finally learned how to endure gracefully. (My memoirs of my 80s.)

Fave Fives . . .

Not long ago my mother asked me what my five favorite birds were. I thought that would be a good start to today’s entry of my fave fives of many different things. Each listing is in no particular order. They don’t necessarily go from most favorite to least favorite. Or vice versa. (Isn’t ‘vice versa’ a great phrase?) Also, these are my favorites as of today. Tomorrow could change everything.

My Five Favorite Birds:
red-wing blackbird
robin
sandhill crane
pheasant
meadow lark

My Five Favorite Books:
The Book of Mormon
Gift from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh
Any book in The Far Side collection
Moonraker’s Bride by Madeleine Brent
Ramona the Pest by Beverly Cleary

My Five Favorite Main Dishes to Make for Supper:
crockpot meatballs (from a bag) in spaghetti sauce (from a can) over penne pasta (from a box)
chicken tenders (from a bag) with green beans (home canned), garlic toast, and applesauce (home canned)
Hawaiian haystacks (everyone can select what they like for toppings with minimal complaints)
Pappa Murphy take-and-bake pizza
grilled cheese sandwiches, tomato soup, and green beans

My Five Favorite Jobs to Delegate to My Children:
total toilet treatment
scooping the cat’s liter box
unloading the dishwasher
vacuuming the stairs (this is one I wish they’d do, but that I always seem to do myself)
cleaning sinks and counters in the bathrooms

My Five Favorite Body Parts:
eyes
ears
mouth
nose
brain

My Five Favorite Smells:
Russian Olive blossoms
newly mown grass
baking bread
meat cooking on a grill (especially our grill)
lilac blossoms

My Five Favorite Words:
repentance
forgiveness
atonement
mercy
Christ


My Five Favorite Things to Repeat:
You need to take a shower tonight.
Have you practiced the piano?
Are your jobs done?
Annie, fetch!
I love you.

My Five Favorite Outdoor Activities:
playing with the dog
working in the yard
walking
riding my bike
eating dinner on the back patio

My Five Favorite Childhood Memories:
Playing tomato baseball after the garden froze.
Dad pulling us behind Rabagar over the snowy fields on an innertube.
Sleeping out in the igloo Dad made in our front yard.
The Sunday morning Andy and I found an injured American Kestrel on our way to the end of the lane to retrieve the Sunday paper, and it hopped up his arm and onto his thick stocking hat. (he took it inside.)
Playing with Cleo, our dog.

Short Hair Thoughts . . .

I'm a short hair kind of girl. But I had "longer" hair when I nabbed my husband. And he likes long hair on women. Sometimes I wonder if he feels like I played bait and switch on him.

Of course I'm not worried enough about it to grow it out. In fact, I've learned a little nugget of information that might give some long-haired women pause.

One of the things rapists look for when choosing their victims is long hair. Especially pony tails or braids. The reason? It's something easy to grab onto that they can use to pull their victims into their vehicle. (This is in cases where the victim doesn't know the attacker.)

After I learned this tidbit of information I quizzed my husband. "Studies show that rapists almost never select victims with short hair. Why do you think that is?"

"Is it because they look like guys?" he responded.

Wrong answer! (He has mentioned that my hair sometimes reminds him of guy 'dos. Frankly, he's not really up on style. My hair is NOT a guy cut.)

The one consolation from the exchange? Hey, at least I know my hubby doesn't think like a rapist. (I knew that all along.)

Lighthearted Diatribe on the Economics of Diapers and Tampons

It’s nearing the end of the month, and Thursday’s shopping trip was more about comparing prices than purchasing multiple items. I bought three gallons of milk, but needed to price shampoo and conditioners as Sam’s Club no longer carries their Member’s Mark line that I’ve come to depend on. I figured that as long as I was going to be at Sam’s Club and WalMart I might as well compare prices on the two items that I’ve been thinking about on and off for over a year – disposable diapers and tampons.

It all started when my hormones when wacko. I ended up having a light “monthly” flow that went non-stop for about 6 months straight. Needless to say, I was fed up with needing to use tampons. Fed up with paying a small fortune for them, but unwilling to consider the alternatives. The last time I’d spent so much money on paper products was when my children were in diapers. Hmmmm. Diapers. I recall that when my kids were in the hey-day of diapers, a single one cost around $.06 each. (I’m roughly as old as the dinosaurs.) The tampons I was buying – the plain Jane ones in cardboard and paper wrappers – cost close to that, but I was unsure of the exact numbers.

I don’t know about you, but the thought of tampons costing as much as disposable diapers drove me nuts. Diapers incorporate high tech ingredients and coverings to deliver super techno absorbing abilities. They’re made up of:

Polyethylene Film: plastic used as back-sheet and to help stop liquids from leaking out of the diaper.

Hot Melts: used to glue the different components of the diaper, such as the pad and the elastics.

Hydrophobic Non-woven Polyethylene: used as a top sheet for the leg cuffs; it will not allow water to pass through.

Hydrophilic Non-woven Polyethylene: the main top sheet in contact with the baby skin, allowing the liquids to flow into the diaper core.

Elastic: used to improve the fit of the diaper and usually made of polyurethane foam, rubber or lycras.

Lateral Tapes: used to hold the diaper in place once it is on the baby; made of polypropylene and hot melt.

Frontal Tape: used to allow for multiple repositionings of the lateral tape without tearing the back-sheet; attached to the front of the diaper with adhesive; reduces the thickness of the poly film without the risk of potential tears associated with the lateral tapes.

Cellulose: Used for the construction of the pad. It aids in the integrity and absorbing capacity to the diaper. It comes from pine trees. Liquids are absorbed due to the capillaries in the void spaces between the fibers and the surface tension angle between the fiber and the water.

That sounds like a lot of science to me. Compare that to what it says on my Tampax box under ingredients:

cotton and/or rayon fiber, rayon and/or polyester overwrap, cotton cord, and cotton and/or cotton/polyester thread.

Doesn’t sound very complicated to me, and certainly not equivalent in cost to the process that produces disposable diapers.

And now for the results of my pricing research. To simplify things I’ll just stick with the prices at WalMart, mostly because that’s where I found the cheapest price on tampons, and everyone can shop at WalMart – no membership required. The cheapest plain Jane tampon was the Equate brand at .10 each. Tampax tampons cost $.14 each for any size absorbency.

The least expensive diapers at WalMart are the White Cloud brand. A stage one diaper (closest in size to a tampon) costs $.14 each – the same as a Tampax brand tampon. (I was right!)

Of course prices go up from there. Tampax Pearl and Playtex Gentle Glides with plastic applicators were the most expensive tampons -- $.20 each. Pampers were the most expensive disposable diapers -- $.24 each for a stage 2. Huggies’s stage 3 diapers in a large box (just think how large a stage three diaper is) cost $.21 each – or the same as a high end tampon. Can you believe it?

Despite the anger that wells within me each time I think of tampon manufactures making their fortunes at the expense of menstruating women, I’ve had a great laugh over my economic research. Mostly because my hubby is a cutie.

Hubby had a Utah Beekeepers Association meeting on Thursday at a local restaurant. Our neighbors have a few beehives and were in attendance. When Nancy asked Hubby what I’d been up to lately, Hubby told her about my research project pricing diapers and tampons. Just thinking about my mild-mannered husband having a conversation with our neighbors about the injustices of diaper and tampon pricing makes me laugh until I snort.

My pricing expose my not make a dent in the pricing of tampons, but it did accomplish something. It got at least two men (Ron and Hubby) talking about diapers and tampons. Now that’s a miracle!

Goofball Idea for Women's Ski Hat

Last night it took me forever to fall asleep. Just before nodding off I came up with a goofball idea for a women’s ski hat. Keep in mind that last night was Halloween. And I’m way psyched to go skiing this year. And my hair is short, short. And I only take off my current ski hat in the privacy of my car with deeply tinted windows. (Okay, my car’s windows aren’t deeply tinted. But when I take off my ski hat I wish they were.)

So here’s the idea – ski hats with cute hair peeking out from under the edges. The hat itself is pretty traditional, but I’d like to have curly strawberry blonde locks coming from under the hat and falling over my coat collar.

Know anyone with a really good looking, long, curly strawberry blond wig they’re willing to part with? I’m also in the market for a ski helmet this year. As the wife of Safety Man, it’s the least I can do to help him feel better about my ski habit. Maybe some long auburn hair cascading from under my new helmet would look hot on the slopes.

What do you think? I figure it beats those fleece hats with the mock-dreadlocks flying all over the place. At least I wouldn’t look like a court jester.

Free Business Ideas -- Take One!

My friend that's a patent attorney would probably advise me not to give my ideas away for free, but I just can't help myself. I don't really want to be an entrepreneur, but if that's your dream and you're just looking for the right idea, read on. Use whatever sounds interesting or plausibe. Just let me know how it turns out. (And remember, you just may get what you pay for.)

Buns on the Run -- a bakery delivery service. I've noticed that local bakeries in my area deliver to restaurants and grocery stores, but why not deliver bakery goods right to the consumer? Kind of like the milk that gets delivered right to your door. In its simplest form, this business would be a bakery sales and delivery service. Product would be from exhisting local bakeries, and Buns on the Run would then set up delivery contracts with households. The pie in the sky version of this business plan is a free-standing bakery with a range of goods that can be franchised across the country -- all under the Buns on the Run trademark.

U-pick fruit farm marketing . . . Ever wanted to run a U-pick fruit farm? Need a marketing idea? Try this one: (radio spot) "You can pick your friends, and you can pick your nose . . . And you can pick our fruit! (details follow). Our ads may be tasteless, but our fruit is delicious!"

Bike Helmet Skins. While I was out weeding this week I watched the local kids heading to school. One girl's helmet was tan on top and looked fuzzy. It wasn't actually fuzzy, but my mental wheels were already spinning. Why not have more fun with bike helmets? I've always dreamed of entering a demolition derby with a pink car, and I'd wear a helmet on which I'd glued long, curly blonde hair. But why not have wigs for bike helmets? (Talk about big hair.) Safety has been serious for too long! I'd like to see lycra helmet skins that look like Viking helmets. You know, with horns. And maybe all those sport-a-holics would buy lycra skins that make their kids' helmets look like their favorite football team's helmets. I'm also seeing great kid's movie spin offs . . . Pocohantas braids, Ratatouille baker hat bike helmets, Mickey mouse ears for helmets, bug antenae, a tri-corner Jack Sparrow pirate hat... You get the picture.

Fisher Price Play Prison. You might be arrested if you seriously suggested this as a children's product. But there were times when I could have used one. One day, years ago, when my son was in time out in his room, he stripped the bedding from his bed, pulled out all the drawers from his dresser and emptied them all onto the floor. It would have been nice to have some big plastic kid furniture item he couldn't escape from.

When you dream, dream big.