Happy Birthday, Granty

Last Saturday we celebrated Grant's 2nd birthday. Please, no questions about the cake.

There are many things people know about Grant: That he has a wickedly cute smile, that he has the ability to smell through opaque wrappers and bite through them to find the fruit snacks inside, that his tantrums look like desperate kowtows, and that he has outstanding reach for pulling things off the countertops (and destroying pyrex pans full of brownies).

But there are some amazing things about Grant that you DIDN'T know:

1) In February Grant counted to infinity . . . twice
2) When the Boogeyman goes to sleep at night, he checks his closet for Grant
3) Grant knows where Carmen San Diego is
4) Grant does not sleep. He waits.
5) Grant "waits" with a night light not because he is afraid of the dark, but because the dark is afraid of him
6) Grant doesn't need to swallow when eating
7) Grant can slam revolving doors

Happy Birthday, Grant.

Jenny Upset

On Friday, March 19, Jenny and I had the pleasure of watching BYU upset #4 TCU Horned Frogs on their home field. The game gave me indigestion; BYU baseball committed egregious little-league-esque errors. But it was fun nonetheless to spend a good evening watching America's pastime, and to see a team that will likely end up playing in the College World Series.

We had excellent seats, which were given to us by a good friend from high school who used to pitch for TCU.


Jenny asked me if this man really had purple hair.

(it was a cap)


Jenny also asked me why the umpire was proportioned like a Grecian, with abnormally wide shoulders and a narrow waist.

(the ump was wearing shoulder pads under his shirt)

Trip to Salado

This past weekend we took a short trip to my hometown, Salado, Texas. We had no real purpose outside of the fact that it was my first time visiting the folks since moving back to Texas.


First stop: Grandpa Hernandez.


Next: Pepa McGregor


Then, Jenny and I took a break from Satan's angels (thanks, mom) and went putt-putting. With creative scoring, Jenny won.

Home is not what it used to be. I graduated with a class of 57 students. The town probably registered just over 1,000 people. Now, there's about 5,000, there's a new high school, the town matured from a village into an actual municipality, and we installed a traffic light.

Dear Ben

Dear Ben,

Today I was looking at Dennis's facebook and saw something on there that is called family link. It didn't look like everyone was there--I had to actually count to see who was missing--3 siblings didn't look like enough. That made me start thinking... you would have really liked facebook. You would have been friends with everyone. You would have had a lot of pictures on there of race cars and tractors, maybe some dogs. Then I started thinking... I think we would've become better friends. I think you would have had kids by now. Maybe our kids would have played together. I'd call you with computer questions. I think you would still live in the east--for some reason you really liked it there. Logan would love to hang out with you--he loves tractors and four-wheelers. Madison loves animals. She also favors boys, so she would ask you to help her and to play with her. Grant is pretty easy-going too. I'm sure you peek down on us and already know all of these things. Anyway, the years keep passing, but we are still thinking and talking about you. We miss you.

Love,

Jenny

Just thinking

(According to Wikipedia)

Conflict is a necessary element of fictional literature. It is defined as the problem in any piece of literature and is often classified according to the nature of the protagonist or antagonist.

Most of you know that my true passion is reading. I love good books. And I was just thinking... all good stories have opposition and conflict. I mean, the story would be very boring if the main character didn't have to overcome and achieve something. So while I like to complain and mourn all the conflicts in my life... I think it will be ok. And my life story is going to be a lot more interesting. I hope.

Creative Spelling Fail

I pass this shop every day on the way from the train station to my office. The proprietor evidently meant to communicate to the public that inside shoppers will find the "unique." Instead, it's where you go if you are a "eunuch."

The Lord's Earthquake Warning: Report from Chile

I wanted to share a link to a story reporting on the experience of the mission president in the Santiago Chile East Mission leading up to Chile's recent earthquake. The story is an incredible testimony, and I encourage all to read. It can be found here:

http://ldsmag.com/churchupdate/100303chile.html


As a side note, I've taken particular interest in this country lately. For the longest time I have declined posting on one of my favorite topics--politics--because it's such a divisive subject, and a family blog is not the appropriate forum to engage in tit-for-tat exchanges.

But I think in light of recent circumstances it would be appropriate to note that Chile is becoming a model American country, refusing to succumb to crippling populist programs. Their foresight in overcoming this physical devastation was borne of the same foresight that helped them ward off equal devastation of this recent worldwide disinflationary decline. Decades ago they invited Milton Friedman--arguably the most important economist this nation has ever produced--to offer suggestions on how Chile could curb inflation, grow their economy, and increase the nation's standard of living. The solutions were simple and based on free-market economics. Their successful implementation by extremely bright, educated, and disciplined government ministers has proved once again the value of free-market economics. This country could learn a thing or three from Chile.

First Outing in Dallas

This past Saturday we decided to see what Dallas had to offer. There are tons of free things to do here, so we decided to start there; we'll work our way up to the paying venues later.

We also called up our old friends, the Packers, from BYU 1st Ward to enjoy the day with us. We always enjoy spending time with friends from the past (although technically, since the Packers live here, they are now friends from the current).










The kids at Whiterock Lake Park in Dallas. We stopped here first to have a picnic lunch.










Next we went to Uptown to ride the free trolley. Uptown uses 4 fully restored vintage trolleys from the early 1900s.










Our friends, the Packers: Trulee, Matt, and Samantha










The family.










We rode the trolley to the Dallas Museum of Art to view the Crow Collection of Asian Art. My favorite was a series of photos from Ka Yeung, a Chinese photographer.

Best part of the day was that I think Jenny started to like Dallas a tad bit more. It's a slow work in progress, but someday she will like this town.

Reason #214 Why Moving Sucks

The ward you are leaving has you give farewell talks right before your new ward immediately invites you to give introductory talks. Two months; two talks.

Bittersweet Valentine

For most, Valentine's Day is about cherishing memories of the most romantic day of the year. For me, I break out into a cold sweat when I think about my first Valentine's Day in love.

It was Wednesday, February 14, 2001. Middle of the week for America, seemingly the end of life for me. I had been seeing Jenny for a few months (and when I say "seeing," I mean that literally. I hadn't actually braved up to talking to her yet, but I did see her on her way to class each day).

I had worked up the gumption to finally ask her out the previous week. I wrote down the words, rehearsed in front of the mirror, and practiced them on my roommate until I was polished. I set out to ask her on foot, since the law in Idaho at the time forbade driving while either intoxicated or twitterpated (they've since removed the latter restriction).

Jenny lived at Royal Crest Apartments, a veritable fountain of beautiful women springing forth from each door. So it came as a shock when I approached the complex to see a throng of beautiful men swarming her door, and her door only. As I got closer my fears became reality. I heard it as clear as day. The word "yes" rang out. It was a knife in the ears. Scores of grown men fell to their knees, hands reaching upwords, and crying out "noooooo!" Jenny had just accepted her Valentine's Day date.

My heart collapsed. My eyes flooded. My lip did that quivering thing that usually embarrasses me. I ran back home. Once back, I fell into a sorrowful rage, and having momentarily lost control of my senses, I cut the "DO NOT REMOVE UNDER PENALTY OF LAW" tag from my mattress. My roommate, already bitter over my triumph against him at a ward talent show with my rendition of Mariah Carey's DREAMLOVER over his version of Def Leppard's POUR SOME SUGAR ON ME, reported me to the authorities. My punishment was a temporary restraining order for a week from anyone who slept on a mattress.

The week went by lonesomely. On February 14, it was worse. I needed to get away. Fortunately, my Chinese professor had a pilot's license, and slept on a futon. His wife was out of town brokering a cease-fire in Cote d'Ivoire, so he offered to take me up in his plane to get a "new perspective" on life, and on Rexburg. I had nothing better to do.

We launched in the early afternoon, about the same time Jenn was on her date. Unbeknownst to me, Brutus, Jenny's date and a Swedish body-builder of lower nobility, planned to propose to Jenny on this, their first date. He walked her to a place on campus where the view was breathtaking. And then he got down on one knee . . . .

In the plane, I was losing my breath as well. Elvis, the hanger's mechanic, negligently inspected our plane before takeoff. In mid-flight lights starting blinking and alarms started sounding. My professor did all he could to maintain control, but we knew we were doomed when we started seeing a trail of engine exhaust pump out of the fuselage. We pitched and rolled, circled and looped. Finally, he ordered us to eject.

"Well, Brutus, I just don't know. It's out first date."

"What's THAT???" He said, puzzled.

"Well, normally it's what people do before they ask someone to marry them."

"No, I mean THAT!" He pointed up to the sky. Falling from above was yours truly. I landed perfectly in between them.

"Joe, what are you doing?" She asked. I was out of breathe, still feeling the shock of what had just transpired. All I could do is point up in the air to where our plane had been.

And this is what she saw (you may have to click the bigger to see the whole thing):




















And the rest is history. She kissed me (although, as a gentlemen, I tried to decline such a forward advance). She hugged me. I handed Brutus my parachute, and hugged and kissed Jenny some more.

And that's how we spent our first Valentine's Day.

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY, MY ETERNAL LOVE.

(To my Jenny, who is my gift from above.)

It's snowing in . . . Dallas???

Check out my car:










Think it's a picture of my car parked at ALDI in Cleveland? It's not.

This is what welcomed me when I got back to the Park-n-Ride in Dallas. I leave my car here to catch the train into the city. This is after 16 hours at the office Thursday, February 11, 2010. I think my snow brush is still packed in a box somewhere in our garage.

Here's the house:










I made fun of Jenny when she made me pack our sled when we were moving. I'm not laughing now. Yesterday, Jenny took the kids sledding.

Official: 9 inches of snow in 24 hours.

Jenn Speaking:

For the first time in a very long time I am finding myself with extra time. Oh, I have plenty to do, I guess--but I get to decide when and what I'm going to do. I'm not finishing classes, showing a house, packing boxes, moving, or unpacking boxes. I don't have friends to spend time with (sorry I ended that with a preposition, but it seems so snobbish to say "I don't have friends with whom to spend time"). I am making friends. But you know how it is... it takes a while to feel like you are really friends. The house is mostly unpacked and mostly painted. I want to wait until the house is perfectly organized to take pictures... so sorry, I may never take pictures. Logan is excelling in school. Madison and I are trying to do our own school at home. Grant loves the racetrack that is the layout of our home--the kitchen has two entries that go through 4 rooms to make one speedy circle. We met the local library, and we are enlisted in the Friday 10:30 story-time. I've decided to learn a little about Interior Design (did I mention I hate the kitchen in this house?) and have requested every book the library has on the subject--4--let's just say this is no Cuyahoga Library system. I've also reawakened my interest in writing. And I'm excited to do my visiting teaching next week. Although, I am definitely less excited about the talk I am giving on the 28th of February. Bishopric members should definitely think this out: I gave a talk my last week in Ohio because I was leaving. And now I am giving another talk because I am new. Maybe it is a way to discourage people from moving--a punishment so to speak. '

Anyway.

So tonight, over dinner, I started telling the kids stories about my life. I tell them a lot of stories--many they hear over and over. I have written some of them down, but I really need to make a personal history for my family. So, I thought I would tell you some of mine (since I've got some time).

Do you use a Kitchen Aid or a Bosch? My family had a kitchen aid when I was little... they gave it away when they bought a Bosch and figured out it pretty much ruled. So I grew up mixing foods with a Bosch. One day, when I was in the sixth grade, I invited Meghan Scott over after school. We decided to make an angel food cake (from a box). We mixed it up in the trusty Bosch and got ready to bake it. I told her how cool the Bosch was because you could just mix that cake up and put it in the oven in the bowl. She was a little hesitant, but I quickly convinced her when I explained that Angel food cakes had that hole in the middle--the same shape as the Bosch bowl (my parents were still at work, I think). Sure enough, 20 minutes later, the alarms started beeping and the smell of burnt plastic started smelling. Apparently you should not put a Bosch bowl in the oven.

Madison broke (another) dining chair yesterday. As you may or may not know--she has bad luck with chairs. I couldn't be mad at her, though, because as you will soon realize, I've had my fair share of breaking things.