Sharing a room

When I was a kid, I wished I had a sister. There was one main reason for this, I wanted to share a room. We mostly lived outside back in those days, a million years ago. It was considered the ultimate punishment to have to "go in". I had never heard of "sleeping over" and culturally it was quite strange to even go in someone else's house, let alone their bedroom. If you were waiting, you politely stood at the front door, trying not to notice every detail on the wallpaper or floor mat because that would be deemed "nosey". You can imagine the shock when my first day in the US, ladies came by with treats, stepping in my door and wanting a tour!! I remember being in a friends room one day while she got some things together and being in awe of the fact that there were two, single beds. How cool, a best friend to stay up late with and share stories of boys with and swap clothes. That's how I envisioned it, until I had kids of my own who shared rooms and while I'm sure there were occasional late night bonding sessions, there were also many fights over who's "stuff" was on who's side etc and the mountains of excuses as to why the other room mate needed to clean up. I had my own brief taste of sisterhood when Boyd's younger sister stayed with us for a few weeks after a mission. She borrowed shoes and rummaged in drawers for tweezers and things I guess sisters do but for me that was enough to convince me I had been blessed by having my own room growing up. Why am I sharing this thought? Well sometimes I realize my cultural cross overs have caused me a little confusion. I love the fact that I am more open to visits and neighbors but at the same time, wish everyone didn't feel it was their right to know all my business. Confusing. I also wonder who decided we had to share a room with our spouse. LOL. Two adults who are happy to give kids their own space whilst we have to share. One of us is a thousand degrees whilst the other is frozen, one snores while the other DOES NOT. One gets up at the crack of dawn and the the other at noon yet we somehow think this makes for a good roomy. I'm laughing as I write this because I wouldn't have it any other way (although I've heard many successful marriages do have separate rooms)but today my post was sparked by this:

Since my man got home from scout camp, he has been super busy and then he went and pulled a muscle in his neck. I have spent the last 72, or so hours in my room watching the Olympics (or at least, NBC's "Americans at the Olympics")and can no longer ignore the chaos which surrounds me. How am I supposed to lay motionless on my bed, except the odd movement to get food in to my mouth, when there is piles of stuff every where? So, I have found it necessary to break down and clean the room, even though it's not my stuff.(Not this time anyway) I actually laughed as I did my room sweep this morning, that Jordan has switched from, total slob, messiest room mate ever to:

Asha, who really is the messiest...

informing me, the rocks are purposely placed, because she doesn't like the room too tidy. Then, the reason I suspect her room is tidy at all is...

She sneaks in to Ronan's to sleep. Most teenage boys would tell their little sister to get lost but I hear him reading to her late at night. I guess not everyone want's their own room.

Go on you Britain

Every once in a while, I am reminded that I am in fact a foreigner.

Last nights, Olympic opening ceremony in London, had me in tears within seconds as the beautiful imagery of a home of rolling hills, a village fete, maypole dancing (in P.E.)and of course the Hymn "Jerusalem" which is maybe the most, if not only, hymn known by most Brits. The music of my generations, the little red brick "basset" home and the NHS hospital beds, where I had 2 babies drug free! I loved it all. I of course posted my support for my team on Facebook, whom I know will fight for medals and not even come close to the great USA where I now reside but an immediate response, suggested that I should maybe be cheering for team USA!! If there was ever a time to cheer for your home land, it is during the Olympics and anyone who has ever emigrated knows that. It's not about politics, money, fame or gratitude for the country you reside in but about heart, work, determination and some form of spirit that lifts a person to be a light to those who watch. This is perfectly represented by Gual Marial, who won his right to compete in the Marathon with just 11 hours to spare. He also resides in the USA as a refugee from South Sudan, A country that took the lives of all his family members. He runs as and Olympian, an independent. He represents that which the Olympics is all about. A desire to rise above and be a part of something greater. So I don my Official team jersey and eat my bangers and chips and cheer loudly for all Olympians but hope, so much, that the underdogs get to see some hardware.

DIY

In my early 30's, I was full of energy and extreme optimism towards spontaneous DIY projects. There's the time I decided after returning from Thanksgiving dinner, that our master bedroom needed painting. Thankfully, the people at home depot, felt their employees family time was less important than the possibility of a crazy like me doing a project and so I was able to buy paint. We prepped, taped, primed and painted and had our room back together in time to go to bed, a little late but the same day (a true story)

Or the time I decide yet again on a bedroom redo, only to decide the same day, that I didn't like it and a re- re-do a day later.

(Blue tape still on the wall) It seems, as the next few years rolled on, my brain kicked in somewhere and started showing me the bigger picture. These projects became overwhelming. Effort required plus costs, meant I just didn't start many projects at all. You can imagine my excitement, when Monday, after a busy day of nothing much doing, when throwing a dirty towel in the dark, crowded, brown, laundry room, I got this.... URGE to fix it!! The laundry room was top of my list of my requirements for my house. No more basement dungeon, I wanted bright and spacious and if pinterest had been around then, I might have felt a chandelier was necessary to clean clothes. Everyone knows, whites are whiter with a chandelier and a cute phrase, appliqued on the wall. Anyway, thanks to pantry changes and ducts being moved etc, I was left with a huge wall in my laundry room and my monster machines wouldn't even fit side by side, so I am left with this.

and it has been a negative space ever since. My organizing skills have made it very functional but just not nice to look at, so I got busy with some leftover paint I had from the homeschool/loft area and voila.....

I'm still on the lookout for a mirror to go above the hampers(trash bins) just for a feeling of space and I plan on making a beaded chandelier to hang from the fluorescent light fixture (maybe in the next life)I may even cut some vinyl words for my sorting sake. I did save one part of the old room.

Our precious "Height Chart" (again, created before a human sized ruler, made from old palettes, was necessary to keep track of growing kids). So, anyone else, to tired for DIY? I wish I wasn't, I LOVE the results.

Wordless Wednesday

Perfect Day.

Holidays around here are usually planned at about 4 hours notice and most often include movies. We have never been huge planners. It makes it easy to have a good time, knowing you might have just done nothing at all, which also happens on occasion and nobody seems to care much about that either. The 4th is obviously a holiday I didn't grow up enjoying although I think the Brits should have another day off to maybe celebrate getting rid of Americans saying "I love your accent" :-) Just kidding. Boyd got out of work early Tuesday and so we had an impromptu hike up to Bridal Veil falls. I love that we can be so close to such beauty just minutes off the main road.

There is just something spectacular about being this close to a rushing, natural waterfall. It's a quick easy hike although I wouldn't be thrilled with a little tike running along as there are some decent drop offs and loose rocks. After moving from Provo in 2004 we hadn't seen much of the Freedom festival and since our 2 older boys had gotten to the age where they were happy to never see another parade and we didn't feel the need to sit through another country music concert aka stadium of fire, we had skipped such traditions for our own things. Last year a sudden fact dawned on me. My younger two kids had never seen a real parade and had no idea who Chuckee Cheese is. I know, I am a negligent parent. We fixed that last year and I have forked out for the Stadium tickets twice. (Am I the only person alive who didn't know who Brad Paisley is? and I hope my kids never know who chuckee cheese is.) Anywho, on to this years fun. It started early, as we have to trek from the deep, darks of Salt Lake County and it takes a bit of effort, to break through the veil of righteousness at the point but we made it in good time and watched the balloons.

They lift off one by one and then we and the masses, all stand around, hoping they'll come back. We headed on to the parade route to get a great spot. I was amazed last year on finding a spot on the curbside, that people just plonk right in front of you up to 10 feet in and so this year, with our new, experienced Provo Parader status, we sat right out on the line and had a great view.

There's always a great variety in the procession and I love it, the horses, the bands, the royalty and the pooper scoopers but I was a little stunned that the BYU Football truck, yes their vehicle, not one of the team present, got greater cheers and standing crowds, than the WW2 veterans and firemen. HHmm.. it was no surprise then that the U of U float go boos, really people? I know I have personally benefited from some medical care there and I understand I am in Provo but boos? .

We spent the next few hours at sevenpeaks. Being wet is just about the only way to survive the 100 degree outdoors.

Can you guess who held the camera today? We then headed home for a healthy grilled meal. Boyd's favorite, Santa Maria Tri- Tip with grilled veg and fruit.

Our final planned event, was to hike the Y by twilight and watch the valley fireworks for free but over excited superhero fans in my house convinced the majority (that would be everyone except me and I get 3 votes since I'm the Mum, still lost) that we had to see Spiderman, right this minute. So we piled in the car and that was what occurred and we were able to catch a few fireworks on the tail end of the night, from a great parking spot, on the hill outside the Oquirh Mountain Temple.

Looking across the valley, we could still see the latest alpine fire burning and Herriman was quite void of any skylights, thankfully. But certainly more than ever, this year I feel gratitude for all those who serve tirelessly so I can spend the day, completely care free with those I love.

A perfect day really.