Enter the caption contest now! It’s so exciting isn’t it? If you need the rules for this supposed-to-be-weekly contest, click here: Caption Contest Rules Shmules.
I spent time in the mountains this weekend in Wasatch Mountain State Park. It was, of course, bliss up at my parents’ cabin. And for the first time in my life, I went four-wheeling.
Have you ever been on an ATV before?
I want to find a job where I can drive my nieces and nephews up and down the trails in the mountains all the time. Is that too much for a girl to ask?
It was just one of many experiences that made up a great weekend. The only thing that really kept it from perfection was losing my soccer game. That was a bummer.
I needed the great weekend because in a week from today, you might not want to talk to me… for a week or two, or a month. Once this new project at work goes to production, I may not have a life outside of watching it to make sure it behaves. It better be cooperative by the time Thanksgiving rolls around.
Nobody wants to miss out on my Mom’s incredible Thanksgiving dinner to sit at work in front of computers.
It happens every year. Bring on autumn and I am an excessively happy girl. The leaves start to change color, I wake up Sunday mornings to thunderstorms and the air smells crisp.
What in the world does it mean to smell crisp?
I have no clue, but I couldn’t figure out how else to describe the smell of autumn: like pumpkins filled with nearly-spent candles; like wet leaves before they start to rot in piles on the front lawn; like muddy football fields, but not muddy football players?
Right.
The air smells crisp.
And I love it.
I love it because Halloween is coming. Because it smells amazing to me. Because I love long nights. Because the changing leaves are beautiful. Because my birthday is coming up. Because there are still soccer games. Because I can watch football on Fridays. Because I’ll never grow out of jumping into a pile of leaves.
But I have one big worry right now.
What am I going to be for Halloween?
Here are a few of the Halloween costumes from my past:
A Bat: Mom made this costume and it was out of really soft fabric. I loved the cape and the little bat mask. All I had to do was wear a grey or black outfit underneath and I was set. Sadly, I outgrew it as I wore this costume in my pre-elementary school days.
A Bloody Soccer Player: Any weekly activity growing up turned into a Halloween costume with a little blood and possibly some vampire teeth. I wore a red Leopard’s Lair jersey that was a little large as it was one of my older brother’s old jerseys. And of course, splattered blood in random places.
Robin Hood: He was so much cooler than Maid Marian. And it was probably an easier outfit for Mom to make. The vest was made out of green felt. It was my fourth-grade wish.
Indiana Jones: Because by sixth grade, I decided to come up with a costume that accomplished two things: one—kept me warm; two—was easy to run through the dark neighborhoods in.
The Wind: That was last year and it required lots and lots of hairspray. That’s all I had to buy, though. Hairspray.
A Pirate Wench: So original.
That sets me up with such high expectations that I just can’t come up with a grand idea for this year’s costume. I even dreamed about going to the costume store, but woke up before I made a purchase. Sigh.
I tried.
I really did.
I tried as best as I could, but you know how there is that phrase about teaching an old dog new tricks?
First, let’s clarify: I don’t consider myself an old dog.
I just think that perhaps I would have been a bit more fearless when I was younger.
But I tried really hard to learn a new trick on Saturday.
I tried to learn how to do a gainer.
It all started at the second annual Campbell-DeLaMare swimming party at the DeLaMare mansion. They wouldn’t call it a mansion. They just call it home, but I never had my own bathroom connected to my bedroom and a walk-in closet growing up. I never had a swimming pool in the backyard with a diving board and slide. I never had an upstairs and downstairs kitchen. I never had an indoor swimming pool either. I did, however, have a pool table and a ping pong table.*
We became friends with the DeLaMares when they moved in to the average-size house next door over a decade ago. Before long, Maren and I were babysitting their youngest kids, Mom was scheduling her daily walks with their mom, Lisa, and we built a new fence with a door in it so we could easily walk from one backyard to the other. It was neighborhood bliss. And then the DeLaMares decided to upgrade. They moved to a bigger home and left our little neighborhood behind. But don’t worry; we stayed friends.
Isn’t it great that even though they live in their fancy new home they still want to see the Campbells? And they want to see ALL of us? GOOD friends.
This last Saturday afternoon was the swimming party.
Maren, Thane, Laina, Hobbes and I drove up together. Before long, we were all outside swimming and the diving board was just asking for my brothers to fling themselves off of it. I hesitated.
But they made it look so easy to do a gainer: Jarv, Mick and Thane.
“You just arch your back,” Thane instructed me.
Mick said something about jumping higher.
Jarv said something about tucking.
I tried the first time and landed on my head. Not too bad. I was more than halfway around.
I tried again. Back flop. Lost my courage.
Try again.
Went in shins first.
Try again.
Head first.
Try again, jump higher.
Back flop.
I’m done.
So much for learning how to do a gainer.
Guess the remainder of the lessons will have to wait for the Campbell-DeLaMare swimming party next year. I’ll let you know how that goes.
“You look really nice,” Conder told me.
It was a genuine compliment because for the first time in months I wasn’t wearing jeans to work. I was wearing heels. I was wearing my nice pants that I HAD TO IRON FIRST. I didn’t feel like ironing a shirt, too, so I grabbed a nice, knit, short-sleeve polo and pulled it on. To top off the outfit, I put on my most expensive pair of earrings that sported semi-precious stones, gold and silver. Clearly, my outfit was TOO MUCH for the IT world, but I went to work anyway and Conder therefore complimented me.
I spent much of the regular work day hiding in my cube so that too many people wouldn’t compliment me. Oh wait. No. The real reasons were so that my boss wouldn’t get suspicious that I had a “dentist appointment” and so that people wouldn’t start expecting me to dress nicely for work EVERY DAY.
There’s a reason I work in IT. Casual dress.
I left the office around 5:30 pm and drove downtown for the party. This, my internet friends, was the real reason for my fancy attire.
There is a company in Salt Lake that REALLY knows how to party. I went to the grand opening of O. C. Tanner’s new jewelry store in the renovated Beaux Arts building.
I was my Mom’s date as my Dad was out of town on business and it turns out, I was SO underdressed. My jewelry didn’t cost TENS OF THOUSANDS of dollars, my dress wasn’t purchased just for the event, I wasn’t wearing enough makeup and I had to do my own hair that day. The people around me didn’t drive a Toyota RAV4 like me. I watched the valets jump in the driver seat of a Bentley and an Audi R5 so I chose to park my car on the street a couple of blocks up and walk. It was a nice walk.
Back at the party: hors d’oeuvres were plentiful, the three levels of jewelry were stunning and surprisingly I knew people. Okay, well of course I would know some of them: Marilyn Neilson (look her up as Marilyn Hanold, but be prepared for her pic from Playboy), Jerry Sloan and DeeDee Corradini were B-List celebrities. Turns out, even B-List celebrities wear really expensive jewelry.
I knew, personally, some of the others there whose names you might not be able to find on Wikipedia, but they (or their wives) also wore expensive jewelry. However, they came up and genuinely said hello, how are you? I’m doing great. Thank you for asking. It’s not often that you meet important people who know how to make you, the girl in a white polo shirt, feel important.
After a few hors d’oeuvres and trying on some of the David Yurman jewelry, Mom had to leave, but I hadn’t had a chance to make it out back to the dinner yet so I told her thank you and see you later.
I went and got in line for the salad, cheese and crackers and salmon all by myself.
I’m such a big girl.
But I didn’t want to sit by myself.
So I didn’t.
I went and sat at the table with some of my Dad’s old colleagues. One of them wore a lot of orange: an orange bracelet, an orange tie, orange glasses. It didn’t take me long to realize it was the author of The Carrot Principle, Chester Elton. He dominated the conversation.
But Tim, who I sat next to, despite being an Executive Vice President, asked me a few personal questions and only one answer surprised his wife: how did an English major turn into a software tester?
It’s a secret.
Eventually, I excused myself from the party and walked back up to my car. I like my car, even if it’s not a Bentley. I jumped in and with the sun setting behind me, started the drive home. It was when I looked in the rear view mirror that perspective finally hit me.
I had just been in a party where the least expensive jewelry was still over a thousand dollars, where the people there ate all the chocolate dipped strawberries they desired, and where the women looked chilly in their tiny black dresses. I felt out of place, a little dull.
But there in my rear view mirror was a sight more beautiful than the diamonds I’d just seen. The sun was setting behind one of my favorite buildings in Salt Lake, one that represents our Pioneer heritage and the 40-years of hard work of men and women who would never own tuxedos or little black dresses. It was seeing the Salt Lake Temple disappear behind me as I drove up the hill that reminded me of the abundance in my own life.
The next day, I went to work in jeans.
I have a journal that I started when I was 7-years old. Sadly, it only had one entry from that year: one, laconic entry.
June 14th, 1988
Mom, Maren and I went to the camp-out.
Enter the CAPTION CONTEST now!
The Sciolist Cell Phone Pic of the Weeknot-™ is published each week with the intent to entice readers to comment. This is accomplished with a CONTEST! The winner will receive a blog nod in the following week’s post-what a TREMENDOUS prize. Entering is easy. Just click on Comment below, fill in the identification information requested and enter your caption for the above picture as your comment. You have until Larrie posts the following Wednesday’s pic to enter.
Ready… GO!*
Okay, I know it’s not supposed to be a cell phone pic / caption contest because it’s FRIDAY – and boy do I love Friday. But, I was slightly MIA* from the old blog world on Wednesday and today I have a great picture to share AN-EE-WAYZ. I have a new nephew, Hobbes. Congrats to Laina and Thane! Here’s a cute pic of him and then, we’ll** post the cell phone pic below for this week’s caption contest. HURRY AND POST A COMMENT NOW BECAUSE IT’S ONLY A FEW DAYS BEFORE NEXT WEDNESDAY’S DEADLINE!
Enter the CAPTION CONTEST now!
The Sciolist Cell Phone Pic of the Weeknot-™ is published each week with the intent to entice readers to comment. This is accomplished with a CONTEST! The winner will receive a blog nod in the following week’s post-what a TREMENDOUS prize. Entering is easy. Just click on Comment below, fill in the identification information requested and enter your caption for the above picture as your comment. You have until Larrie posts the following Wednesday’s pic to enter.
Ready… GO!***
**By we, I mean ME.
***And by GO!, I mean COMMENT!
I’ve been MIA for a bit there. Were you worried? You probably haven’t even been by to check, either, so let’s not worry about it. I’m back now and I’m going to pick and choose which “Build a Better Blog” task to complete for today from those that I missed. Choices are:
The first and third sound boring so the winner is, a Review! How exciting.
I received a package in the mail the other day. It was sent to my parents’ house so my Mom gave it to me when we met at Smith’s Marketplace to purchase plants on Friday. It was in a nice silver bag with a large bow on it and a note, which said something to the tune of: “Here’s our new shampoo, conditioner and products. Let us know what you think!”
Have you ever checked out of a Hotel and taken home a few “free” souvenirs like the shower cap or the tiny bottle of shampoo? If you stay at the Zermatt Resort in Midway, they will MAIL you said souvenirs. All you have to do is send them a little note about how much you didn’t like the shampoo/conditioner bottles because you bruised your fingers squeezing so hard to get anything out.
Shortly after sending this email, you will receive a response from an executive sales administrator:
Thank you for your feedback, and wonderful comments on our associates and resort
We’re all very proud of Zermatt Resort – and are thrilled that enjoyed your stay.
Regarding the shampoo and conditioner – yes – we are keenly aware of the complication with those products, and agree that they are difficult to use. We apologize for this inconvenience, and again – appreciate the feedback. We will finally be ordering wonderful new products the first of May, as our current supply is finally dwindling!!
Thanks again, and I’ll be sure to pass on your good words to all. We look forward to seeing you again at Zermatt Resort in the future.
Despite the painful use of punctuation, you must agree with me that it was a great response. And then to receive the little package in the mail with the NEW products, which certainly are not difficult to use and smell so nice.
As far as the resort, I stayed up there a few weekends ago with James and Maren. This included staying in one of the posh penthouse suites where the bidet was clean, the tub was giant and the robes were neatly folded on the bed just waiting for us. I’ve never walked into a room before to find my own robe. However, there were only two so we made a phone call to request a third and someone ran it right up.
It was only a short, weekend vacation, but brief as it was, I almost felt like I was on a cruise, with the several buffets we went to, the late night hot tubbing and the gift shop filled with international chocolates.
It was a rainy weekend so we didn’t get a chance to see much of Midway except for one of the hot pots at the Homestead Resort across the street. So instead, we ate. A lot. We skipped the pasta buffet, but we didn’t miss out on the seafood or pancake buffets. If there was a contest between those two buffets over which was the best, the seafood buffet would easily take home first prize. The chef who made the fish tacos not only made tasty tacos, but also had a good laugh with us. James and I practiced some Spanish with him and then he ran to the kitchen to chop up a spicy pepper just for us. It wasn’t as hot as the peppers Thane brought home from Korea, but James and I watered our eyes a bit eating some. Also, the desserts were delectable and we filled up several plates with each option: little cheesecakes, tiny mousses and bites of tarts.
To sum it all up, if you’re looking for a little European getaway tucked away in the mountains of Midway, UT where the shampoo and conditioner are in easy to use containers, Zermatt is your place to be. Tell them I sent you. (They have no clue who I am except for Marcus at the front desk.)
Today’s “Build a Better Blog” task is to make a reader famous.
I already do that.
Every Wednesday.
If you haven’t been made famous yet it’s because you either don’t participate in the caption contest or because you just need to have faith that your caption will eventually make me laugh enough to take the top spot. Tune in this Wednesday when I make another reader FAMOUS.*
As for today’s post, let me tell you about some of my excitement for my weekend…
Friday night, I went to bed around 12:30 a.m. Nice work, right? Right.
It’s too bad, really, though, that I went to bed early (for me). Why did I go to bed so early? Because I had an 8:10 a.m. soccer game on Saturday. Clearly, I needed some decent sleep for that. What a mistake. A terrible, no good, very bad mistake.
Instead, I should have stayed up and watched TV or been on Facebook. But I didn’t. I actually attempted to sleep on the weekend. Sigh.
About 2:30 a.m. Beth was shaking me to wake up.
FLOOD!
Remember how God sends rainbows because he promised Noah that he would never again flood the earth? Well, those rainbows don’t promise anything about kitchens never flooding. Also, it’s mighty difficult to think clearly about where to shut off water when you’re still trying to wake up. Duh. Turn it off under the sink where it’s spraying out. Good thing Beth was coherent.
Turns out, I own a LOT of towels. But it wasn’t enough for all the water and we spent part of the wee hours of the day wringing out towels in the rain outside. My feet were wet from the flood, my hair was wet from the rain, my hands were wet from the towels, and I have no clue what the condo below me looks like. Nobody lives there right now.
Thankfully, Griffin had borrowed a wet/dry vac from a friend a while back and left it at my parents where my mom could find it in the middle of the night, drive it over and suck up my shallow pool in the kitchen. Thank goodness I had my Mom and Beth to help in the middle of the night. The cats did nothing.
I took some pictures of the mini flood. I think I’ll have to photoshop some ‘No Diving’ signs in. It’s pretty shallow and I don’t want to be liable for injuries.
*If being mentioned in this rockin’ blog makes you famous, then I want some kick back for that. Mmkay?
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