snowfall kind of love...

Cue “Snowfall” by Ingrid Michaelson. Except that playlist.com from whom I make my blog playlist has failed me and does not actually have this song available.  So just imagine or for the overly ambitious, look it up. It’s superb and perfectly fitting for my snowy mood.

As of late, I have been craving a good snowfall. Christmas is all around us (I maybe watched Love Actually today) and has gotten me in quite the wintry spirit. We have gotten a few brief snowfalls, but I am still awaiting that first big one of the year: inches of snow gracefully coating and burying everything, including roads, leaving only a harsh desire to remain inside wrapped in a blanket and sip hot cocoa while watching a movie or reading a book.

The problem with our little snow spits of late is the accompanying cold. Snow, I will welcome you with open arms, but please leave the single digits behind. This morning I was severely unappreciative of the cold as I walked outside to my car just after putting on mint lip gloss. Upon breathing in the blowing snow and five degree air, I discovered what the sensation of frozen lips truly feels like. Luckily, they have since thawed out and I have switched to a fruity, non-minty gloss.

Two other reasons to dislike the cold: 1) my hands never quite warm up in winter, my poor babies at work hate me this time of year and 2) my bathroom remains a constant 35 degrees throughout the winter, making sitting on the toilet seat first thing after waking up the worst part of my day.

Supposedly there is quite the storm on its way, but I have yet to see any trace of it. White fluffy flakes of wintry love, I await you.

a date which will live in infamy...

Every Fourth of July in Great Bend, KS, we would wake up early and march with my grandpa outside while he hung the American flag in all his military glory of yesteryear. I am never in Great Bend on Pearl Harbor Day, but on December 7^th I always picture him doing the same.

Today is also my great-grandmother’s birthday. Though she passed away at the ripe old age of 102, today marks the day she would turn 108. Dr. Ling, as we affectionately called her, was quite the woman. I will always remember drinking Dr. Pepper, eating wafer cookies, and romping around her attic on visits to Grandma Dreiling’s. Other Dr. Ling memories: her age-related forgetfulness where the wrong person would often get credit for visiting, her love for gossiping about the other residents of the nursing home, and seeing a tornado on the way to her wake: she wanted to go out with a bang. However, my favorite memories are her love for my brother and her hatred for my sister. We never figured out why she called Michael ‘Billy’, we decided he must remind her of some old lover, but he always got the shiniest apple and the crisp dollar bill. On the other hand, after my parents informed Clara they would be naming their last child after her and then failed to do so, Dr. Ling always held quite the grudge for Berny. She scolded, she glared, she called her names, it was quite humorous.

But today is a day that would make Dr. Ling proud, for her namesake has finally been passed on. Today Amelia Claire Oliveros entered the world. Jessie hatched this morning, leaving me both rejoicing and wishing I was closer to home to see my new niece. The first question after her birth (and a delayed notification…cough, cough) was of course, is she brown? Unsure yet, but she does look to have a possibility of a complexion closer to her father’s than us ghostly Duncans.

Now this little guy is in for it. Johnny Jr. is the epitome of a momma’s boy and I fear for the very life of Amelia when he realizes his attention is gone. I was told he showed up to the hospital today wearing Silas’s dragon costume. Loving the image of that, I assumed he wanted to make a good first impression on his little sister and meet her in style. However, Michael had a more realistic suggestion: that Jummers just wanted to scare her and make sure she knew who was boss. Let the games began.

I would also like to give a shout-out to Baby Henry Moss, also born today of my dear friend Julia. This is quite the day for babies.

Turkey for me and turkey for you...

Remember how I went an entire 5 months without blogging and this is now post number 5 in one month? Apparently I either keep encountering seemingly important things to share with the world or, more likely, I am getting better at wasting my time. Being put on-call twice this week for work did however open up an extra 24 hours of life. Maybe I just want to share adorable pictures of my newest niece. Since I was supposed to work Thanksgiving (I am not bitter...I am not bitter...) I could not go to Kansas, but I did get a little taste of home with Michael, Autumn, and baby Ruth in town. So here are a few memories of my Thanksgiving week that included eating 4 turkey dinners (not in the same day), getting to see 3 of my family members, reading 2 books, and working only 1 day.

Our delicious Friday Thanksgiving set-up at Zach's.

Michael, Ruthy, and Autumn fat-dogging it on the couch after a scrumptious meal.

Baby Ruth has a guaranteed future as a gifted piano player and athlete thanks to her parents.

Not so happy in my arms...she is still warming up to me, though deep down I know she knows I am her favorite aunt. But what an excellent face.

 

Much happier in mommy's arms.

I steal other people's children to make Christmas cards :)

P.S. Thank you Cougars for finishing off the week with another epic win against Utah. 

just one of those days...

Some days the world seems to conspire against me, that every move I make will be met with some small sort of disaster no matter how much thought and grace I put forth. Not in an awful 'my life is a wreck' sort of manner, but a comedic, 'did that just happen again' way. Yesterday was one of those days. 

Exhibit A: I am at Smith's buying sweet potatoes. I already looked like I had just rolled out of bed (I had...night shift ahead) and I was trying to collect the yams in a bag while talking with my mother on the phone. Multi-tasking is not for everyone, nor were the plastic vegetable bags built to withstand 6 yams. So I learned as my yams tumbled to the floor. A kind gentleman stopped to help me collect them again, this time in two sacks. On to the next aisle: spices were the popular item as I peered over several shoulders to find what I needed. I tried so kindly to move my cart to the side only to bump the Pringles display and send several cans toppling to the ground. And guess who is the first person I see when I look up? That same gentleman that helped me clean up my yam mess of course. Needless to say, when I went to go down the next aisle and saw him in that same aisle, I quickly talked myself out of whatever item it was I needed and continued on my way. 

I headed to work and the trend continued, which always makes me slightly nervous since I do have the lives of babies and young toddlers in my hands. Fortunately, the disasters remained small and consisted of me tripping over everything that could possibly jump in my path. However, I was ecstatic to discover the nurse working with me enjoyed singing almost as much as I did! So when I realized today marks exactly a month until Christmas and started singing Christmas songs at 0430 in the morning, she joined right in. And it kept us going all the way till 0700. Fortune finally smiled my way!

In other news, I think I am allergic to night. Every night shift I work, I always start sneezing at exactly 2am and it doesn't stop. Last night, it began a little early, but I blame that on all my respiratory babies, my body apparently thought struggling to breath looked fun. Body, please repair yourself before work tomorrow, it would be much appreciated. 

This silly cold may also be his fault. He is just so much fun to go running with, I can't resist even in the cold when my lungs least appreciate it. How could you refuse this face?

ode to fall

Why must you come and go so quickly? Tonight we began planning christmas things, and I realized you are slipping away from me. You always come with such anticipation of changing leaves, crisp air, and delectable recipes of apple and pumpkin. This year you surprised me; you snuck up and before I realized, only moments remained before you got restless and headed out. So I took a drive to soak up what breaths of yours I could. I found myself surrounded by mountains of fire and seas of gold, wishing I could get lost on the quilted paths left in your wake. Even the hills of kansas were a dance of every autumn hue. I do not think I enjoy another season quite so much. You bring me joy in the simplest of ways. But your ways are too short, won't you stay just a little longer? You fall away while I am still only rediscovering the goodness you offer. You know my fickle heart too well, to sneak away before I grow weary. But I could never tire of you. So fade away but know that I will welcome you with only more love next time. Until then, adieu. 

delilah

Today I underwent a blog makeover. And though I do not actually love the background, I love that its title is "delilah." I could not refuse. Not everyone may understand my appreciation for this, but for those who do, I am writing this after eating two slices of cheesecake and countless wedding mints. Delilah is loving life right now. I even added "samson" to my playlist for her. So for now, she (the background) will stay.

nursery rhyme rewrite

There was an old woman who swallowed a fly...

that's just sick (in every non-cool sense of the word)

 

I have a better solution, one that won't lead to possible death: just kill the fly. And that is just what I did. But this was no ordinary kill, we had a history. This fly has been around for quite a few days, and previous attempts have been made to end its life, but alas, he is a very quick fly (I think I caught him this time in his slower, less limber old age). For the last few weeks, I have been the only one upstairs in our little attic apartment since my roommate got hitched. It is very quiet in this large space all alone, and while most the time I don't mind it at all, it does occasionally get a little lonely. Enter fly. I hate flies, they are disgusting and while I am sure they are some kind of important to the circle of life, I do not approve. But the buzz of that fly reminded me that there is other life up here. So I allowed him to share my attic a couple extra days. He was such a tease, I never knew which room I would find him in next. And though I could hear his attempts at a song, I could not always see him. Then, this very afternoon, I won the game of hide-and-seek and he met a crushing end to his ill-fated buzzing life. Goodbye fly, thank you for the couple days we had together. I am sorry I had to kill you.