A Scalpel Saved Our Marriage

I know it's been a while. We've been up to a lot. Some of which is explained below.

Ah, weddings. You plan and plan, and for a while you seem to know more about mail-order napkins than your fiance's favorite color. The big day comes and hopefully it's filled with family, happiness, music, good wishes, and shaking your butt to "Whatta Man" at your wedding reception.

On to the honeymoon, perhaps to some place you've never been before, and the first night you're sleeping together (and, ahem, actually sleeping) you start to notice little things about the other person's night habits. The one thing I noticed during that time was that my shiny new spouse had issues with sleeping. Meh, no matter. We were in love and snuggly and starting a new life together, right? Nothing was going to disrupt our honeymoon phase that was destined to last until the Second Coming. Except that every subsequent night I began to wonder how long this earth life was actually going to last because Ted sounded like he was about to die multiple deaths.

I very sweetly mentioned this issue to him a few times, but he dismissed it. His reasoning was that if no one (parents, roommates, mission companions, Salma Hayek) had ever told him before that he was holding his breath and gagging during the night, it must not be true and I must be imagining things. Yes, this was MY problem, people.

Until I got pregnant. Then it was the world's problem. I got more and more frustrated about my lack of sleep in the first place, then combined with not being able to go back to sleep because of a certain spouse's snoring, and don't get me started on when baby #1 and then baby #2 actually got here and let's just say buh-bye to sleep altogether. I finally convinced him at one point to just "get checked out" and to his credit, he did, and he didn't even grumble about it. He had to spend the night at a sleep center hooked up to all sorts of who-knows-what, and the diagnosis: normal people's brains "wake up" about 5x per hour. Not a full wake-up, just normal patterns as your brain goes through its sleeping cycles. Ted's brain was waking up 36 times. Per hour. That's waking up more than once every other minute!! Basically, it was one of the worst cases of sleep apnea they'd ever seen. So they prescribed a CPAP. It was heaven for me, hell for him. He'd rip it off subconsciously in the middle of the night, so we were back to the same ol' antics and square one.

It was so bad during pregnancy #2 and post-baby #2 that Ted just took to sleeping in our guest bed every night. Despite the feeling that we were roommates and not lovers (kinky), it worked wonders with catching up on sleep. I got a full night (well, once Dean started sleeping through the night, which didn't happen until a few months ago) and he didn't wake up worrying if I was starting my day off ticked because I hadn't gotten enough winks.

Time to try something else.

A few months ago Ted went in for a consultation about his tonsils. They were massive. He was scheduled for a tonsillectomy on Sept 8, so my very pregnant friend came to babysit while I went to the hospital with Ted. The surgery went fine, but the recovery was awful for him. I had to do some major stocking up on ice cream. He winced over every bite. The doctor said it was going to "hurt like hell", and he wasn't kidding. Ted just plain ol' didn't want to bother eating because it hurt so bad, so he lost 10 pounds. I think I found them.

A month later, we went on a little weekend trip to the Outer Banks, a popular NC vacation spot and one of the points of interest for Hurricane Irene back in August (the 27th to be exact. I remember because I helped throw a baby shower that day -oh, for that very pregnant friend mentioned above- and my hair was a mess). So there we were, glowing in the aftermath of a BYU win over the Utah State Aggies - still trying to figure out how they did it - and I realized I hadn't heard Ted snore once the night before. See, we hadn't been sleeping in the same bed for months, more than a year, actually, so I'd forgotten about the various noises. Before I said anything, though, and jinxed it, I thought I'd sleep through another night. Same result. Could it be????


Fast forward to a couple weeks ago, which was also a couple weeks after this little trip. Dean, the worst sleeping child we've ever had, was up to his same old tricks and it was driving us batty, so Ted took matters into his own hands and just stuck him in the office/sewing/guest room, no discussion, to just let him cry and reduce our frustration. Which means Ted had nowhere to sleep except....our bed.

And I'm happy to report that the only thing that bothers me now is how small a queen is when there's another body in it. But no noises - no gagging, no breath-holding, no choking, not even a snore. Just nice, even, deeeeeep sleep breathing.... zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Thank you a million times over, Dr Snip-its at Duke Hospital. You have no idea what you've done for us.

Oh, I forgot to mention that the main reason his tonsils were massive in the first place was because when we were engaged, he um, contracted mono from me. What can I say? I'm a giver.

Gotta Have It!

I was scanning this week's North Carolina grocery store ad, and there's a section called "Everyday Essentials." First of all, I get a kick out of the fact that Kingsford Charcoal (for all that NC BBQ) and cartons of Marlboro cigarettes are advertised in that section. I guess if you're addicted to nicotine, yes, those are essential. But charcoal? Really? An "Everyday" essential?? Do people grill every day? Or even every week? I'm happy if I just get grilled food once a season...

But then, in the same section, these were advertised:


Don't believe me?



Every. Day.

According to my mom, these are "vitamins", so of course we'd need to take a few of them daily, right?

Family outing: Mapleview Farms

We ventured about 15 miles from our house to indulge in some fabulous ice cream out in the bonafide countryside, made on site from North Carolinian cows. The dairy farm has a quaint country store where you can turn in your empty glass milk bottles and pick up more of their fresh, creamy milk. I hear tell their skim tastes like whole, but who gives a crap about milk when there's small-batch-produced ice cream to be had?

I introduced my mom to the many wonders while she was here. She got coconut, I got banana pudding. I know what you're thinking: "But there's no chocolate in banana pudding ice cream, dummy!" I realize this, and to that rude affront, I reply that to balance out my diet, I occasionally dabble in non-chocolate dessert items and still manage to find them quite delicious. Besides, one of life's greatest pleasures is a fresh banana milkshake, so I figured my flavor choice wouldn't stray too far from the mark. I was totally right, as usual.

The other thing I love about this place is the porch they provide, on which to enjoy said fab s'cream. There are no less than 20 rockers, all lined up. So feasibly I could invite my whole family and only half of them would have to sit on the floor. tee hee.

Last year, I came with Tessa shortly after our NC arrival and got this shot:

I decided to reprise the staging, so here's the 2010 version:

And since it looks like we started a tradition, here's Dean's first (he couldn't sit up well enough in the chair yet, so Grandma's helping him out 'til he can get more starch in him):

Now there's one dessert who's even MORE tasty than chocolate. Big servings of him are TOTALLY on my diet.

One week old

When Grandma Kae was here, we were getting a little stir-crazy, so we decided to get ourselves to the fully-in-bloom Duke Gardens near campus. It only took one hour to load up the car with two kids and two adults. The second I opened our front door, I regretted the decision, as I was met with a blast of wet heat. But we had packed and prepared, so off we went.

This was only 10 minutes into the outing, and I was already dripping in all the wrong places. It took longer than I would have liked to get this simple picture. We originally wanted both kids in it, but Tessa was being ridiculous. She knows how to walk, but when she gets onto uneven ground, she freaks out and doesn't want to budge. So in order to get to this point...

... we had to suffer through this.

Enjoying one of the only shady spots in the place. SHADE! I NEED MORE SHADE!!!

And here's one of the main reasons we went. A week after Tessa was born, we went to Huntington Gardens near Pasadena with Ted's brother's family and spent a good part of the day there. (February in Pasadena = MUCH better weather) Ted and I have a series of "foliage shots" that we've posed for in various places, so we thought we'd get Tessa's first foliage shot there that day. So here's Tessa at one week old:

And here's Dean's first foliage shot at one week. What do you think? See a resemblance?

Farms, food, and fotos

Today's post is more about photos than the actual activity. Although for us, the activity was quite fun to do as a family. We went to the local NC Agricultural Festival, which was basically another name for a smaller version of their state fair (which we went to in October). Our biggest draw this time was the fact that they had a petting zoo (with camels! and llamas!) because we happen to have a little girl who has grown quite fascinated with livestock. At one point, we saw her imitating goat sounds, except her imitation sounded more like a dog (she's still quite limited).

Our other favorite part was the food-sampling exhibition. As Ted mentioned, if you're of the entrepreneurial spirit, don't try to break into the BBQ sauce business, at least in the state of North Carolina. It has been there'd and done'd many times over. And most of them were quite good, but I ain't paying $8 for a small bottle of it. Now the blackberry cider drink...that was original. And ridiculously tasty. Especially in slushy form.

There were probably about 100 booths set up in a building with different samplings going on at each one. At least 40 of them were for BBQ sauces, if not more. There was one booth sponsored by a local grocery store chain, and they were passing out their plastic bags for any loot you were going to end up buying. But for the most part, the people I saw didn't have purchased items in there. No, no. They were over at the Malt O Meal booth, loading up FULL BAGS of the company's individual cereal bowls and oatmeals. People, this is not a free-for-all grocery shopping trip. They're samples. Take one and move along. Rednecks... (or, "Mormons"...)

But back to my point. I've been looking at lots of pictures on lots of blogs/online albums/professionals' websites lately and have been feeling a bit of photo envy. Up to now I've thought I needed a much more fancy camera than I have in order to achieve that kind of artistic level, and while that is certainly true, I've also learned there's much more I can do with a little editing software that I've been too lazy or too ignorant to focus on before. So I took a few minutes with a couple of the next 4 pictures to try to make them look a little more aesthetic. If you wouldn't mind, leave a comment and let me know which two you think are the best in terms of the look of the picture (not necessarily the subject matter), so I can know if I'm on the right track. Your input would be greatly appreciated. But not as much as if you showed up at my door with free ice cream. That would send me through the roof with glee.

Home SWEET Home

Let me tell you what I miss about California:

• In N Out. badly.
• My Diet Coke drinking buddies (you know who you are)
• Janet's organ playing
• Saladang Thai restaurant
• Potluck dinners with my college friends and their families
• Normal-sized bugs
• The hole-in-the-wall produce store on Lake Ave
• Being able to call our Altadena home "home"
• Diddy Reese ice cream & cookie sandwiches
• A temple that does sessions during the day
• Year-round herb garden
• Keeping up with my bad Spanish
• Settlers nights with my crew

I've written about lots of things here that I very much enjoy, most recently $2.39 milkshakes (and they're big! I can't get over it!). The walking trail near our house has been keeping me from gaining too much weight this pregnancy, the amount of green here is insane, our airport is 15 min from our door (and that's driving the speed limit), and it's so easy to make lifelong friends here because the people are so fantastic.

But until last week, those still weren't reasons compelling enough to put our roots down and call this place home. For last week we discovered pick-your-own strawberry patches.

That's not a stock photo! That represents one fifth of the berries we picked together one afternoon, and I didn't put all the good-looking ones together. They ALL looked that good. Juicy, ready to rupture in your mouth, no white tips or tartness, dark red all the way up to the tops. They are what strawberries were meant to taste like.

So often I have walked right past the display of strawberries in grocery stores because they have seldom lived up to my expectations. I have needed them to make pies and such, but those are only good because so many get pureed or chopped and covered with sugary goodness. Not necessary with these. These are...phenomenal.

Tessa knows the goods when she sees them.

But this is how she really felt. Give. me. that. BERRY!!!!

My favorite Mexican-in-training. Each of those buckets held almost 10 pounds. We filled two of them for $1.35/lb. Worth every penny.



And his little helper (I caught her chomping on half-eaten ones in the dirt):

After washing and sorting them for jam, snacking, freezing, pureeing, desserts, etc, we gave Tessa as many as she wanted. Well, we stopped her at about 25. She could have gone all night. Her bib looked like she just got out of an ER.

This was my favorite. I put her in her high chair the next morning while I went to do something or other. As I walked back I heard the familiar sound of something sliding around on the table behind her (she does it when she gets bored). I grabbed my camera and caught this:

Notice the dribbles down the front. She'd already attacked the flat I left out to dry. Just ate them whole, greens and all.

I already made loads of freezer jam, a very delectable dessert (poorly dubbed "Strawberry Delight" - I shudder whenever the word "delight" is in a food title. It's like naming your kid Chastity and then watching them grow up to be a total skank), and tomorrow I'll post what I concocted today. Just a hint: they made me shudder. North Carolina, you are doing your part in keeping me here.

Happy Confederate Memorial Day!

Now before you get all excited to honor the dead of the CSA during Civil War times (yes, they all still freak out about it here, though not as much as I remember Georgia freaking out about it), let me just say that there's not ONE official Confederate Memorial Day, which only confirms to me that the South will never really rise again because, well, they can't get their act together. It's generally agreed that those states which seceded from the Union all celebrate the holiday (at least unofficially), but they can't decide when. For instance, Arkansas and Texas both celebrate it on Jan 19 (Gen. Robert E Lee's bday), which may or may not land on MLK day. Kentucky, Tennessee and Louisiana all observe it on June 3rd (coming up for any natives! excited??) because that was Jefferson Davis's birthday (Davis was the president of the Confederate States of America, for all my California or ignorant friends). Virginia lumps their CMD with their regular MD, which is convenient since I imagine most of their residents might not know about it or give a crap. The Carolinas both observe May 10 (the death of Stonewall Jackson in 1863) and Mississippi, Alabama, Florida and Georgia hang their rebel flags on April 26, for it was on that day, in 1865, when the largest surrender (by Gen. Joseph E. Johnston) of confederate troops happened in a mutual agreement with Union Gen. William Tecumseh Sherman at Bennett Place, NC. I'm totally considering that middle name for a child. Darwin Tecumseh Ochocinco Ririe. Nice ring.

Today is May 20, which isn't any of those days. But Ted asked me today if I wanted to go on an educational outing today, so we went to Bennett place where Sherman and Johnston laid out surrender terms for what basically turned out to be the end of the Civil War, and somewhere on the grounds, Ted saw a sign that Confederate Memorial Day was today. Oh well. Somewhere, someone knows the truth.

This was a cool memorial - built to commemorate the agreement between the North and South.

Gotta do something about those bangs...


In the background you see (to the right) the home of the Bennett family. They were taken unawares when the two generals came to their property to discuss the terms, but they obliged and escaped to the kitchen (bldg on the left) so the two men could speak in private.

The first item of business was the very confidential telegraph notice that President Lincoln had been shot three nights earlier and died the next morning (on April 15 - Ted's bday! Bad omen..). The first surrender terms were rejected as too lenient by the federal government, so on April 26th, the two generals met again and agreed on the disbanding of 89, 270 confederate troops stationed all over the South - the largest surrender of confederate troops of the war. Our guide was a little adamant that the war didn't end with Grant and Lee at Appomattox Court House. These people and their hang-ups...

We further celebrated with BBQ pork sandwiches and fabulous hushpuppies and milkshakes from CookOut - an NC chain that I now wish to cart around with me wherever I go. Almost 40 awesome milkshakes for $2.39 each? Yes please! If the South does rise again, it'll be because of the fat in their food, floating to the top. In the meantime, keep waving those CSA flags!

If I was still a teacher...

If I was still teaching, this week would have been one of my favorites. See, last Friday, the local radio DJs were basically warning their audiences of the impending doom that was sure to come from the sky later that night - a snowstorm.

North Carolina doesn't handle snow well, come to find out. We were admonished to "get to the stores and buy bread, milk, eggs, and canned goods before the storm hits" by multiple sources, including a couple of radio stations and TV news reports. Ted got emails from school, canceling a T.A. session and to be on the alert for any class cancellations the following Monday. An announcer on the radio even made the quip, "One day, you'll be able to tell your grandchildren that you survived the Great Winter of 2010" - a hilarious statement, yet he was completely serious. But my favorite was from an email I got. I signed up for a newsletter and specials from a local bead/craft shop, and their email again advised bulking up fridge contents, but also mentioned we might want to make sure we have enough craft supplies to keep us occupied for the few days we might be "snowed in." So come in and get your decoupage paper and flexible beading wire! Um, I have enough to keep me occupied, thanks. It's called LAUNDRY.

Sure enough, the snow started falling, lightly at first, and then in large, pretty flakes. We went out to eat to celebrate Ted's grades and Tessa saying "mama" for the first time (took you long enough!) and by the time we were done with our filet mignon, there was a legitimate snow covering on bushes, cars, buildings, and roads. And it was stinking cold. We drove home, got Tessa's full belly tucked into bed, and continued to watch the snowfall. Total damage? Six. itty. bitty. inches.

The next morning, everything was white and crunchy. It looked like a scene from some Norman Rockwell painting. Our neighbors in our complex invited us over to watch the Duke game and to bring our Cocomotion, so we spent a good part of the day being embarrassed by our team vs. Georgetown and drinking delicious, perfectly whipped, frothed, and heated cocoa. At one point, we started watching all the "closings" at the bottom of the screen, and commented that there sure are a lot of baptist churches in the area! Our bishopric cancelled church the next day, and then we noticed all the school closures.... ALL the schools, public and private, closed for Monday. Two days away! Monday came, and the sun was shining, some snow was melting, and Tessa and I went to run some errands. Lo and behold, they cancelled school for the next day, too. And the next! And today (Thursday), school is starting two hours later! THE SNOW IS CLEARED AND MELTED, PEOPLE!

However, if I was still a teacher, I would have been praising God for this week.

You should read this post; it's regarding essential nutrition

I married a wonderful man, but I think we can both agree that we disagree on more than a few things. Vacationing is one of them.

We weren't married long before I started noticing (like, on our honeymoon) how fixated he can get on things I just considered as passing fancies. For instance, we went to one of the most beautiful places on earth (Cancun and its environs), where I wanted to sit on beaches with books and ride Vespas and drink watermelon juice (life-changing) and do "other stuff" for the majority of the time. But noooooooo.... SOMEONE grew up visiting "national parks" and appreciating things like "historic sites" and "ancient ruins." Blah. Which meant I was being dragged along.

So since then, I have tended to shy away whenever Ted has approached me with the ol' "wanna go to a museum?" line (and trust me, it has been uttered often). This last time, though, was the biggest and best exception to my usual half-hearted consent. The museum in Raleigh had an exhibit on CHOCOLATE. I practically dragged him out of the apartment.

See how excited we all are to be there? It was a win-win. Ted got to go to his little museum and I got to drool on myself.

The exhibit was put together very well, but it wasn't very hands-on for the amount of children they had going through there. I didn't care about that very much, since Tessa's main activity was drooling right next to me. And considering how much I already knew about chocolate, like the fact that it's brown and to die for, I was surprised to find out how much I didn't know. Here's a quick run-through of fun facts.

• Cacao trees thrive in tropical climates (which I knew), but have to be planted underneath a taller tree because they need the shade (which I didn't).
• West Africa, specifically the Cote d'Ivoire, is the largest grower of cacao trees. I thought that title was taken by Central and South America, but I was WRONG!
• Cocoa beans used to be the Aztecs' form of money.
• The first use of actual chocolate was as a drink, but it wasn't like our hot chocolate or chocolate milk of today. The beans are quite bitter, so they would roast them and add chilies and spices and throw it back.
• Once chocolate became a European import, people went crazy for it (obviously). However, it was so expensive that only royalty and the very rich could afford it. In fact, it was often enjoyed while lying naked in bed. Funny. That's my favorite method, too.

The above image was displayed at the museum, but there was no name or artist, so I had all these grand plans to reproduce it in our living room to give you an idea of what it looked like, complete with the overturned chair. But I'm glad I found it online instead, because my nipples don't look nearly that good.

Besides the multiple videos of huge vats of molten chocolate getting conched and tempered and mixed and formed (think the opening montage of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, the original. Best opening sequence in a movie EVER), my favorite part of the display were the old advertisements from some of the first major manufacturers, namely Hershey, Ghirardelli, and Cadbury (pronounced "CAD-bree"). I've included some samples. Make sure you read all the fine print.

"You NEED a Baby Ruth! It offers dextrose, for crying out loud! You don't want to fall asleep on the road, do you???"

"More sustaining than meat", huh? What would happen if you had BOTH?

Ahhh... someone already though of it for me. Two of my favorite foods, combined. And it was pretty tasty!

Tessa was a gem the whole time because she is a fellow foodie. Toward the end of the tour, we spotted these little ottomans one could sit on while watching videos of people talking about how much they loved chocolate. They offered the perfect photo-op. Can someone please tell me where I can buy one of these? I need one. Or four.

The end of the tour spit us out into a chocolate shop (fitting!) because naturally, we're going to want to eat chocolate after looking at it for over an hour. I wonder if Jesus Himself would have been able to resist such temptation.

They had all sorts of scrumptious treats, so we selected wisely. In case you're wondering if cashews and dried cranberries enrobed in caramel and dipped in chocolate are good, um, they are. They even had kids' books on display, so I flipped through a few of them and Ted and I had a conversation that went like this:

me: We need these.

Ted: Need?

me: For Tessa.

Ted: So she can get as addicted as you?

me: Are you kidding me? I grew up never knowing the fine heritage of my favorite food group. Do you want her to grow up as ignorant and potentially hooked as I did? Maybe if she learns about it from a young age, she won't crave it. Knowledge is power, sweetie.

Ted: That was the biggest load of crap. Whatever. You can get them.

me: I was going to anyway.

See? Compromise is the name of the game in a marriage. So next time he wants to haul me off to some explore-our-wilderness-and-gain-an-appreciation-for-it-already state park, all he has to do is stuff a Reese's in his pants and I'm good to go.

AND NOW, ON TO THE GOOD STUFF.

I know how hard it must have been to read through that entire post with no food of the gods to partake of. So I'm going to have my very first giveaway.

It's been about 10 years since I've made truffles or chocolates, but I've been wanting some ever since I found out there isn't a See's candy within a 100-mile radius of me. What's a girl to do?!? Well, make her own, of course, and one of you will get to benefit as well.

I will overnight a box of homemade chocolates to a name drawn from the pool of individuals who comment on this post, telling me what chocolate does for you. You can leave comments until Friday, Oct 9 at midnight (Pacific time). I'll announce the winner on the blog, and she (or he) should have the chocolate by the following Tuesday morning.

So leave a comment, and be creative!

My new happy place

Mr SmartyPants and I decided to join our church choir several weeks ago, and during the second rehearsal, a fellow alto (who had already inquired where we live) whispered to me about a long tobacco trail that runs quite close to our place. She had to whisper because the director was working with the men at the time, and in my experience, altos aren't very good at keeping quiet.

I scoped out the spot our songstress told me about, and sure enough, it is close by, long, paved, and the scenery is gorgeous. This American Tobacco Trail (ATT) used to be a railroad system for transporting North Carolina's main crop, but through several ownerships and plans, it has recently been converted into a 22 mile-long trail through the forest. And it's only 1/3 mile away from our front door. I thought I would miss the convenience and "fun" of walking/jogging the 5K around the Rose Bowl, but now I have something even better. See for yourself.

Tessa loves to join me outside, but only if she has her nosh.

Yup. Right in the middle of the path. Based on prior experience I'd say there was a homeless person lurking about in the nearby woods. That's a favorite phrase on the panhandlers' signs at the freeway offramps here: "lives in woods". Do they get more money by proclaiming this tidbit? Is one who lives in the woods more destitute than one who "lives" in, say, a back alley? Because honestly, I'd take woods over the stench of an alley any day.

I love the sun dapples in this one. I also love the word "dapples."

Song time! "It's beginning to look a lot like AUTUMN!!"

I [heart] swaths of cheery yellow.

It's taken some getting used to, but I really enjoy that everything around here was just built up in the middle of a huge forest. When you look out our back sliding glass door, there's a small porch of concrete, a smaller strip of grass, and then BAM! trees. Loads and loads of them. This picture shows the backyard of a nearby house. The trail runs alongside a main road on one side (that you can't see or hear most of the time), and back property lines on the other. Someone here decided to break up the scenery a little for all the trail-goers.

This is what Tessa looks like after a few miles. One morning, she was sleeping quite peacefully until some obnoxious old crone screeched, "Oh look! Your baby's taking a nap!" Not anymore, lady, but thanks.

And my favorite photo of the day:

Moral of the story? Go to choir practice.

First Impressions

It's been a whole week since we rolled on in to North Carolina, and I thought I'd offer up some first love affairs and such.

Best thing so far that I didn't have in California: There's a radio station here that plays basically everything in my collection. It's dubbed the "feel good" station, and they'll honestly play Bobby Brown next to Def Leppard. Therefore, I am in heaven.

Worst thing so far besides leaving so many wonderful people behind: Bug bites, and lots of them. I was crossing my legs in church, but had to just use the heel of my shoe to scratch all the bites on the other leg. Bah!

And speaking of church, I had a WONDERFUL first Sunday in our new ward. I didn't expect it to be that good, but Sacrament meeting was so poignant and great that it had me on a high for the rest of the day. We have an organist who, granted, is no Janet, but who plays as well as possible on the electronic organ she has to work with. Fast and loud, and good hymns. I heard today she's also the ward choir director. More on that later. The chorister left something to be desired, but at least nothing was going at snail's pace, and who looks at the chorister anyway?

There were three speakers and the Primary sang after the first two. All three speakers had prepared fantastic talks, well-thought out, and touched on things I'd either been thinking about or praying about over the last several months. The Primary sang "I Love to See the Temple" and I was honestly looking for the kids from Pasadena up there (especially Rachel M, who I later spoke with that night and who told me, verbatim, "Interestingly enough, Allison, OUR Primary sang "I Love to See the Temple" in Sacrament Meeting today, too. Are you sure you weren't there?" She's 5.), and got all teary because that's the song I sang for Tessa to get her to sleep the night before. Later on that night (the night before church), I'd had a dream that there were specific people in our home and they were heading toward Tessa's room. In my dream, I knew they were there, but had no weapon since we were on the 3rd floor and she sleeps on the 2nd. It was so disturbing that I got up at 3:43am to check on her, and there she was, snoring away.

So the 3rd speaker got up to speak - a native North Carolinian, and told us how he's been able to cope over the last year since they found their only son dead in his bedroom one night in August last year. It struck a chord, and the tears flowed. He was a man who had been a member a long time, but had never been through the temple. He felt inspired to prepare to do so, and in doing so, his wife joined the Church back in April. The day before he spoke, he told us he was able to do the temple work for his son, father, and father-in-law, and that he had no idea that he would ever be able to be happy again after those awful days a year ago.

I've heard stories like this, how a person is strengthened by a power greater than him/herself, and that by exercising faith in that power, huge obstacles are overcome and great happiness is achieved. But there was something different about this one. He spoke calmly, with no tears, and humbly gave all credit to his Heavenly Father. I thought to myself several times just how strong he had become after his refiner's fire, and I desired very much to meet and know him. I didn't get the chance that day, but soon I will make it a point to speak to him.

The rest of the day was a little more typical of many great wards, where the Sunday School lesson on marriage was well-prepared and people spoke up and offered their wisdom for the rest of us, and there were so many women in RS who introduced themselves and showed an eagerness to be friendly and invite me to the several things going on. Our Stake Women's Conference is happening next month, and we were encouraged to register for it online that night (I did). I got on the website and there were no fewer than 40 classes offered over the course of 3 hours. You had to sign up and reserve a spot, pay fees if you were doing crafts, etc. The whole thing was highly organized, and it was evident someone went to a lot of trouble to make this as wonderful a day for as many women as possible. I'm really looking forward to it. I signed up for portrait photography and yoga, but I don't have a mat. Could I just use a towel? :)

I've already received several communications from my new ward here, including an invitation to go on a walk this morning with someone who says we met, but I couldn't remember her. I didn't care. I gladly joined her this morning at a nearby park, which happens to connect to a beautiful trail through the woods. This was the scenery:

It was lush, gorgeous, and 1.5 miles one way, so we went to the end and back, pushing our baby strollers and talking nonstop. Some of the first words out of my new friend's mouth were, "Now, I know a lot of women come here and say 'well, my husband is starting a program in...', but I don't care about that right now. I want to know about YOU." What the heck? How did this girl know how narcissistic I am? I would just LOVE to talk about myself! We had a jolly time, and though the humidity made me sweat before I was actually exerting myself, I told her I'd love to do it again, and soon. She's the one who informed me about the ward choir director, and then asked if I was going to join. I told her I was considering it, but that there's always a stigma that comes with "ward choir", and that's been true for just about every ward except Pasadena. And I say that because, of course, I directed it. And they were wonderful. She said the director is very professional and puts on a Christmas "extravaganza" which, rather than turned me off, attracted me to join this Sunday. I'll report on that as well, I'm sure.

In smaller news, it took us a few days to get ourselves a functioning kitchen, so combine that with our 10-day road trip plus a few days before the trip being laid up in bed with a bad back, and that makes for about 2 1/2 weeks eating fast food. I had never been so excited before to cook, and this was our first homemade meal in NC:

And 8 minutes later, this was Ted's plate:

That's what I like to see: nothing but the pit.

In the midst of unpacking one day last week, Ted offered to drive me to his campus. It was a gorgeous and green day (they've all been), not too hot, and we were trying to take care of administrative things he needed to do before the first day of school: parking, ID card, etc. Well, it's a large and beautiful campus, just sitting right there in the middle of a massive forest, brick and stone everywhere. It was a little hard to find the office that took care of ID cards, so we asked a couple people and they led us here:

I turned to Ted and said "I didn't know you got accepted to Hogwarts." There wasn't even a sign on the door! But go inside and it wasn't a cathedral or anything - just your run-of-the-mill student ID card office. Go figure. More pictures of the campus later, but I tell ya one thing: this is no byu campus. The architecture is old and stunning, trees choking everything, and we even got caught in the rain. NC's first impression of me turned out to be how hot I can look in a wet t-shirt. I think they might consider keeping me around for a while...

Gaa! We're here!

This was my first look at North Carolina. Not bad! It's very green here, with lots of accents (Ted and I jokingly began speaking with a drawl, and now we can't stop) and rain. Yes, it is August and it has rained once a day since we got here. This post is to document the long and sometimes unexciting legs of our trip.

Georgia, obviously.

Ted and I got tired of driving, and Tessa seemed awake and willing, so what the hey?

We took a couple rides on this New Orleans streetcar. Both drivers were pretty rude.

This is one of the things I miss most about my mission in Georgia - the constant competition for the most clever marquee phrase. They should really have a competition for the best grammar.

And the owners of this here house collect bottlecaps in, well, their dirt.

An homage to our friend Adler. We had no idea he had some hidden timekeeping place in N'awlins.

All right. Where's my freaking pot of gold? We're on student loans here!

Very cool bridge somewhere in Louisiana (I think). I was heavily drugged at the time.

Lots o' water in the South. I believe this was the Mississippi Rivverr. hehe

For the record, we didn't meet one French speaker here.

Here was the famous diaper blowout in Alabama. I couldn't stand the smell, so I just took the camera and walked far, far away.

Where was all this bird crap coming from outside our hotel in Nowhere, Texas?

Oh. This explained the inexpensive rate.

I admit I was never enchanted in New Mexico. They's alls a bunch o' liars!

These next three photos show only 3 huge billboards of about twenty (not kidding) advertising this "thing?" that was supposed to get us all excited about something wherever it was.

Well, here was the thing, a gift/souvenir shop, very loosely termed a "museum", perhaps because of this "thing" they so wanted everyone to see. Turns out the thing was behind a locked door and you had to pay the cashier $1 to sate your curiosity. Ted and I decided it wasn't in our new Starving Student Budget, so we passed on it, and spent $4 in drinks instead.

So there you have it, folks! Our adventure-filled cross-country trip! I injured my back two days before the movers came, and it hurt so bad Annette came and took me to the hospital for an MRI the day the moving truck was in our driveway. As the four guys were taping up all our belongings, I was hobbling out of the door, off to downtown LA to get earplugged and examined by some clanging tubular magnets. The diagnosis? I have 3 compressed discs in my back and all the muscles around them are in serious spasms. Tessa's been very good about it, but she hasn't lost any of the 19 pounds she's carrying around to help me out at all, and Ted's been nothing short of wonderful. With rest and some serious narcotics, I expect to be back to normal in maybe a month or two.