Return of the Journal Jar

Since it's been awhile (over a year) since my last "journal jar" blog post, and with not much else going on, I figured it was time to revisit that topic. If anyone feels so inclined, you can check out those posts here, here, here, and here.

So the question of the day is:

What color was your house, your bedroom, your livingroom as a child?

My house was a two story brownish brick house.

Growing up, the living room had white walls, brown carpet and dark brown trim. It has a huge two-story natural stone fireplace. My parents still live there, and have remodeled it in the last few years, replacing the carpet with hardwood floors and painted the walls. The only original things left are the fireplace (which would have been an absolute crime to rip out) and the big bookcase/cabinet thing that my dad built. (He built 90% of the furniture in the house- the exceptions pretty much being the couch, and my bedroom furniture which my mother brought with her when they got married)

For about the first ten years, my bedroom was upstairs and consisted of white walls, and bright blue carpeting (same as all the other bedrooms in the house)

Then out of necessity, (2 bedrooms-4 kids and me being the only girl) my dad built me a bedroom in the basement. I think it was the only really decorated room in the house. You know, with paint other than white, and wall paper. The carpet was mauve to match the accent wall on the south side which was wallpapered in mauve with little white dots, and the other three walls had a chair rail dividing the light blue paint on the bottom from the off whitish wallpaper with mauve and light blue stripes. I debated posting this last picture as it is not the most flattering of an old friend of mine. She and her little sister were wrestling on my bed and I took the picture to be funny. Now it's the best picture I have of my room. Clearly I was about 12-13 at the time cause I was really jazzed about being in young women's.

I loved that room. It was my fortress of solitude. Plus, the windows were really easy to sneak out of (but that's a story for another day)

Journal Jar #3

I still can't find my camera. I guess I'll have to improvise. Luckily my journal jar entries lend themselves easily to that.

Oh Camera, Camera, wherefore art thou, oh Camera?

Tell about your childhood bicycle.

I loved my bike. I would ride it all summer long. Mostly just in the neighborhood, but sometimes we would ride to a gas station to get candy. (I realize it was a different world back then, and there was less traffic in the town where we live, but I get panic attacks thinking about letting my kids ride that far.)

I loved to ride without holding on. Sometimes I'd just close my eyes and feel the wind on my face and in my hair. Kind of like that scene at the end of City of Angels where Meg Ryan gets hit by the semi, only I'd panic after only second or two and open my eyes. I almost rear ended a parked car once, but I swerved in time.

Do they even make bikes like that any more? With big comfy banana seats, and handlebars perfect for carting some poor bike-less soul around. I must have like 5 years old in that picture. That bike looks all shiny and new, my parents must have just given it to me.

You know my dad was telling me a few years ago after my brothers were all grown up and out of the scouting program that he was fed up with kids these days. He said all the Scouts in his neighborhood were a bunch of lazy good for nothings, and half of them (teenagers) had never even ridden a bike before. SERIOUSLY. There was at least one fat kid who would produce a doctor's note every time they did something physical like backpacking trips but still expected to get his Eagle. I guess kids these days are too busy playing video games to go outside and play.

Which reminds me- John? are you reading this? This is my formal request to you to fix up the kids bikes. Soon. Please. Pretty Please. Fall is coming and I plan on kicking them out of the house. I'd also like for Zach to learn how to ride a bike this year. (He is 7 years old, so it's about time) Thanks.

Journal Jar #2

Well, I had so much fun the last time, I thought I'd give it another go! Well, Fall of course is my favorite season. I think I've mentioned it before.

My favorite season used to be spring when all the pretty flowers come out. But that was following a nearly never-ending winter of depressing grays. Gray skies, dirty gray snow on everything, even the leaf-less trees looked dead and gray. And just when I never thought I'd see color again, those bulb flowers would start to bloom. In bright reds, and yellows and purples. I was determined to have a garden full of them, and my grandma helped me plant some and I watched them multiply, and then we moved to Arizona were tulips and daffodils don't grow.

Down here in opposite land, the land of eternal sunshine and summer, Fall is a welcome relief. You can feel it in the air. People start to get excited again. Neighbors come out to play. Creative juices start to flow again. I now wholeheartedly welcome the sight of a cloudy, gray sky. We're almost there. It might technically be fall in a couple days, but it will take a few more weeks to feel like it. It is starting to feel cooler in the early morning and evening. Yay! Fall! (hurry up please)I guess while we are on the subject of weather, and apparently I kinda already answered this question, yes it snowed where I grew up as a child. And yes, I played in the snow. There is a big difference between being a little kid in snow, and being in it as an adult. As an adult there were driveways and sidewalks to shovel, snow tires to buy, snow gear to purchase for everyone, windshields to scrape off, planning an extra 10 minutes or so into your morning to defrost your car, etc, etc, I could go on (and on).

But I loved to play in the snow. I LOVE skiing. I stink at skiing, really and truly stink, but I ♥ it. It's been almost 16 years since I've been. It pains me to think my kids have never had the opportunity to learn. And sledding is the best. I didn't always have the opportunity to do that kind of stuff, but we had plenty of snow at our house to play in. Next to the driveway there was always a huge pile (from the snow shoveled off the driveway) and we would hollow that out to make snow caves, or try to sled down it. Snow men, snow forts, snow angels, snow ball fights.

Of course, then I got older, and sitting in a hollowed out snow cave freezing my shorts off wasn't so much fun anymore. And then my mom handed me the shovel and I discovered that making the snow hill on the side of the driveway isn't nearly as fun as playing in it used to be, and then that stupid hill would be the last thing to melt, and you'd think that stupid, black and gray, crusty, nasty bit of snow would never go away. And then we moved to Arizona, and felt practically giddy at the prospect of giving away our snow shovels and windshield ice scrapers.

Yes. My mom is a great cook. Taught me nearly everything I know. Yes, I like to cook- even started a food blog, which is kind of pathetic at the moment given that I am stuck in a rut and cook the same things over and over again. (And therefore have nothing new to blog about) I'm hoping that Fall and all that stuff I said about creative juices will inspire me to get creative in the cooking area. My favorite thing to cook? Well, caramels are my specialty, but I also really like to bake cookies. I have a couple of recipes that I'm pretty proud of.

Journal Jar #1

I admit to being a slacker-blogger these days. I didn't even make my goal of 20 posts last month. (Only 16- which is still good in an every other day post kind of way). I just have writer's block these days. No ideas to write about. The kids are in school, my computer is still retarded, I am anxiously awaiting Disk 3 of Season Five of The Office From Netflix. (Maybe that's my problem- I once read somewhere that to be a good blogger you need to turn off the TV. Oh well, that's not going to happen any time soon- I am so excited for the new fall schedule to start up I can't stand it. This Thursday I get to watch new episodes of Bones and The Office. Oh Happy Day.)

But, fear not, I finally had an idea. Madison made a "Journal Jar" for a church activity the other day. She is supposed to pick out a piece of paper and then write about it when she is at a loss for something to say. "Fabulous idea!" I thought! I could borrow her journal jar and do that too, whenever I am at a loss for ideas.

With Christopher's help, I randomly picked from The Jar-What size am I? How much do I weigh? Seriously? A lady does not talk about such things! NEXT!!!A favorite place to go with my family when I was young? I can't remember going many places as a family. I'd have to say Iceberg. Huge "over the top" shakes in any flavor you could imagine. Our Christmas tree- I'll take any excuse to repost this picture- Look! flat abs!We usually got a taller, real tree. My mom was particular about the tree. She liked the branches spread far apart so the ornaments could hang freely. She was a master at maximizing the mini-string light usage on the tree. When I was younger the twinkle lights were red, but then she switched to white later on. Each branch was individually wrapped. Took her hours. Sometimes Days. I still love a "real tree" but both my mom and I now have pre-lit fake ones. So much easier. And cheaper in the long run. I need a new one though. I have a couple broken branches, and whole sections of lights I can't get to go on. I have to be pretty strategic about putting the thing together so all the retarded sections of the tree are in the back.

Here's a good one to end on. I think my favorite restaurant is The Tuscany. Pricey, but so delish. When we lived in Utah, it was our "Anniversary Place". We still try to make it there when we're in town.

Stay tuned for the next exciting installment! (Unless something more interesting comes up)