Wedding Fun

This weekend we found ourselves traveling to Louisburg to attend the wedding of my step-cousin-in-law (Ben's stepmom's nephew). The wedding was at this old plantation house, which an impressed Henry addressed as "the rich house." There were green lawns and flowering magnolia trees and some kind of big bush with small fragrant flowers growing over an archway, and even though it was sunny and pretty hot, the humidity wasn't that bad, so it was a nice outdoor setting for a wedding. During the ceremony I was bitten on both ankles by a couple of ants, but other than that, I had a good time. Henry had a really good time. Especially after dinner when the dancing started. Or rather after the Bride and groom dance, the father and bride dance, the mother and groom dance, the grandpa and bride dance, and the groom and daughter dance were finished and the floor was opened to everybody. Henry loves to dance and since Ben and I are both pretty self-conscious about our own dancing, we both think it's cool that he's not afraid to go out and have fun. And he had lots of fun. I thought maybe he was having a little too much fun when right after he'd just finished some rudimentary breakdancing to a Michael Jackson song this older lady stopped him as he came prancing by her table on his way to ours. I thought she was going to get onto him or tell him to be more careful, but she actually wanted to compliment him on his dancing skills.

By the time the bride and groom cut the cake and we had all eaten a slice it was getting late, so we made our exit. The evening air had cooled sufficiently and we drove home with the windows open. While Henry snoozed in the back, Ben and I chatted. In moments of quiet as darkness set on I enjoyed the subtle woodsy scents of the countryside, the faint aroma of mushroom mingled with honeysuckle.

I don't know why some of my most peaceful happy moments happen to occur during the car ride home after family events. Weird, but it's true.

Jury Duty: Part Two, or the Conclusion of a Long Week

So on day two I was chosen as an alternate on the jury. That was fine with me. In fact, I would've gladly been a full fledged juror and traded places with the obstinate chick who kept insisting that she'd be a terrible juror and had to be questioned at least twice by the D.A., the defense, and the judge. Even though it was obvious to everyone that she was just being a jerk because she didn't want to serve, they wanted to make her concede that she was just being a jerk. She of course, was too much of a jerk to actually do that and thankfully they dismissed her because everybody else was getting crazy waiting for them to dismiss her already.

Even though it took all day, after the trial got underway it was smooth sailing mentally. The judge didn't have enough time to wrap up with everything by the end of the second day, so I had to come in again on Thursday morning. After an hour or so they were ready to go into deliberation, so I was off the hook. The judge dismissed me and I gave a little wave to my fellow jurors and went my way.

Overall, I'd say it was a good experience. I learned how time consuming the jury selection process is, that there's a lot more to trials that the jury never sees, how bailiffs get their jobs (thanks to a long wait outside the courtroom while the judge and lawyers had a chat), and that they have these stackable crate things for short people in the jury box to rest their feet on so their legs don't fall asleep (I got two). I also learned the extent of my terrible sense of direction when I finally figured out where in actuality the courthouse was in respect to the parking deck.

Now I'm off to take care of that huge pile of laundry on the couch.

Jury Duty: Part 1

8:30 a.m. - 1:00 p.m. Juror Lounge
1:05 p.m. - 1:30 p.m. Lunch
1:35 p.m. - 3:00 p.m. Juror Lounge
3:00 p.m. - 5:00 p.m. Jury Selection
5:10 p.m. - 5:45 p.m. Fighting insane traffic to get home

I could say it was a day well spent because I got to read about all day, but since we got a late start with jury selection, they didn't actually get finished so I'm still on the hook and have to show up again tomorrow morning.

Laughs maniacally and rams head through the wall.

I LOVE the DMV. LOVE it.

On Being Kind to Our Slithery Friends

Today Henry and I went to visit Mee-maw and Pee-paw and Nee-Nee. While we were there I decided to get started on opening the pool, mostly because for once there wasn't a layer of water and rotten leaves on top of the tarp. Every year it's the same, pull the tarp off and find a plethora of disgusting things on the sidewalk or floating in the pool. This year was easier, even though Ben wasn't there, mostly because the top of the tarp was dry, and my mother-in-law and I got it off and with the help and direction of Pee-paw we drug it into the driveway so we could hose it off. Halfway through sweeping leaves and pollen, slugs and earthworms off, Jeanne found a baby snake. She wouldn't go near it, so I went to investigate. It was a little brown snake, not a copperhead, and for once I didn't go into instant kill mode. Amazing, I know. I tried shooing it off the tarp with the hose, but it didn't take the hint, so I got a shovel and carefully scooped it up and deposited in the yard where all the weeds are. I have to say I'm proud of myself for being charitable towards the snake. I guess that means I'm one step towards being a better person or something.

The Weaker Sex

This week I decided that a six year hiatus on deck maintenance was at an end. The pollen finally quit, the sun was out and I had a lot of free time on my hands, so instead of waiting for the weekend, I went out and rented a power washer. Ben wanted me to wait until the weekend so he could help, but I insisted that I could handle it. I may be small and shy, but I'm not helpless. The rent-all place was pretty cool, they showed me how to operate it and loaded it up in the trunk. The guy who put it my car said it was heavy, but he picked it up without so much as a grunt and I figured if it didn't weigh more than fifty or sixty pounds I'd be okay getting it out. Ah, such is foolish optimism. Or ignorance, because as I found out when I got home, that thing was a bit more than fifty or sixty pounds.

Being short has its disadvantages, I'll be the first to admit it. Trying to heave a very heavy object out of the back of my trunk really illustrates the point, when trying to get better leverage I had to stand on the bumper. I got it partially onto the lip of the trunk and realized that continuing with my fruitless endeavor would inevitably result in one of the following scenarios: I'd seriously damage the car, the power washer, or the driveway, or all three plus my back and maybe even an appendage or two.

Now that I realized I was an idiot and should have waited until the weekend like Ben said, my stubborn resolve drove me to call a friend and see if her husband was available. He wasn't. As we were mulling over some possible solutions, inspiration hit.

"The missionaries!" I cried.

And it was divine intervention, too, because they were home and had a car and were over in a few minutes. One of them picked up the power washer and plopped it on the driveway. Easy as pie. It took him two seconds.

Yes, I am a woman, a small one, with skinny, weak arms, just strong enough to piggy-back my six year old son downstairs every morning. It's annoying when I have to be reminded of my limitations, but I'm pretty blessed having access to bigger stronger people, especially being married to Ben, who's more than capable of loading a power washer in the trunk. And while I may be dinky, I managed to get Henry ready for school this morning, squeeze in our scripture study, see him off at the bus stop, return the power washer, volunteer in Henry's classroom, visit the dentist, the library, and the grocery store, be home for Henry when he got off the bus, and collect sleeping bags, pillows and snacks for Ben and Henry's camp out.

And the deck is ready to be water sealed, which I'll get to as soon as the next sunny day next week. When I'm done reading, or when I feel like it.

Weekend Excursion

This past weekend Henry and I took a little vacation. A few old friends from back in my missionary days were having a get-together and since I received a direct invitation, I figured I'd better go. Yeah, such a hard decision, let me tell you. I wanted Ben and Henry to come, too, so I could show them off, but Ben was adamant that he remain at home. Number one, he hates to fly, and two, he hates to spend. I convinced him to let me take Henry because otherwise he's have to get Henry ready for school Friday and Monday, be there when he got home from school, plus entertain him for the weekend, etc. Besides that, Henry's never flown before (if you don't count the business trip I took when I was about five months pregnant), and it was a great opportunity for him to see where I served my mission. Happily the combination of benefits for Henry and benefits for Ben were worth the expense of an extra plane ticket.

Poor Ben. A week before we were set to fly out, Ben's boss called after he got home Friday night and told him he had to be in Minnesota on Monday, so Ben ended up having to fly after all. He got home late Thursday but I didn't get to talk to him until after ten because two of his bosses called him at the same time right when he got home and kept him on the phone for half an hour-- he actually had to hold two phones to his ears. He was so beat, it really was a good thing he had the weekend to himself to recuperate.

Henry and I had to fly out Friday morning at six, so that meant getting up at 3:30 a.m. A crazy mix of excitement, anticipation, and Ben's snoring kept me awake so that I got a grand total of one hour of sleep that night. I figured I could get some sleep on the plane; little did I know how grossly I underestimated Henry's ability to prevent such an occurrence. After all the questions he asked from Raleigh to Houston, it was the inane high pitched nonsense songs the entire duration of the flight from Houston to Salt Lake City. After a while, though, Henry got really bored. Somewhere over Colorado he threatened to jump out of the plane. I was as tired of him being bored as I was being tired. No matter, once we landed I was stoked. Kiki and Angela picked us up from the airport and took us out to eat. Then Kiki loaned me a car and we went down to Aniesa's. We had just enough time to get there (I only had to make one extra phone call to actually find her house) and we loaded up in a van to go to Chuck E. Cheese's. I told Henry beforehand we would be going, and so he was under the impression that the whole purpose for our trip to Utah was so that he could go to Chuck E. Cheese's-- never mind that we have one in Raleigh. Afterward he told me, "Mom, I had so much fun at Chuck E. Cheese's."

Saturday we went to Audrey's where everybody else was meeting. We ordered food from this place called Cafe Rio. I ordered a cheese quesadilla because I knew Henry wouldn't eat anything else from there, but Angela refused to let me eat a quesadilla when there were better things to be had, so she ordered me a salad-- it was delicious and I'm eternally grateful she did, because the quesadilla turned out to be meh. It was so good to see everybody and catch up and share so much laughter. I have a hard time expressing in words my gratitude for the enduring friendships I gained while serving at Temple Square. It actually gets me all emotional and sniffy to think about it. Suffice it to say, I love love love all of the women I served with and being able to reconnect with them, even via the internet, means the world to me.

The only bad thing I can say about the trip that I wished I'd more time to visit everyone I wanted to see. I wanted to see everyone, of course.

Since we were running short on time, on Sunday instead of going to church I took Henry for a visit to Temple Square. It was cold and gray, and we were lucky that it held off on raining while we were there. I wanted him to get the feel of what I did as a missionary, so I snagged us a tour with two sisters. While they showed us around we chatted and I shared my general experience at Temple Square during my own mission. So much has been renovated, rearranged and changed that it was almost like walking in a dream, and a little sad because the sisters there now are not the ones I knew and loved. Sad to think I wouldn't ever be able to revisit the garden room and check the mailbox for letters from home-- the garden room is gone. Oh, well. Change is good most of the time. One thing's the same though: life is good and I'm so blessed, and my testimony of Jesus Christ is as strong as ever.

Well. Now that I'm done emoting, here's my favorite photo:

I love how Henry's sneaky expression was caught just as he was trying to ruin the photo.

And one more:

If you look carefully you can see Henry wandering around the reflecting pool in front of the temple.

Can't wait to do it again.