four corners and things...

Last weekend, my mom and I had our third annual girl’s trip. We went to the Four Corners area of my home state, and it has to be said: there is not much life going on down yonder. I mean, there’s Moab (which is pretty spectacular)…but beyond that, it’s just a whole lot of NUTTIN’.

But do you know what? That doesn’t matter. Not when I’m with Momma. We always have so much fun when we’re together; even in the remotest of places where all you see is a whole lot of nearly-dead landscape (we’re talking sagebrush and tumbleweeds and…umm…an occasional trailer home…aaaaand, like, dirt and weeds)…

Even in such bleak surroundings, Mom and I have ourselves a good time. *cue the cackling*

Mom and I left Thursday morning and headed south on I15. We drove and drove until we hit Moab (which, as it turns out, isn’t so bleak and depressing as basically everything south of it), where we stopped for a late lunch. We ate at a tasty place called Twisted Sisters, and then we headed northward (for just a minute) to the Wolfe Ranch trailhead. And then we hiked to the Delicate Arch.

On the drive to the Wolfe Ranch trailhead.
Mom and I decided they look rather Egyptian.

I had lied, as it turns out, to my mother. I told her that the hike to the Delicate Arch was only 3 miles round-trip, and that it was mostly flat. (I was right about the distance, but the hike itself was more up-hilly than I remembered. That’s the way it always goes; I’ve hiked to the Delicate Arch 4 times now, and the optimist in me remembers it as a basic nature walk. I’m not saying it’s a horribly difficult hike, but it ain’t flat, either. The second time I was about to hike it, I didn’t even take a water bottle. Sure, we hiked it at night that time around, but COME ON, Gina! Take a dang water bottle! What can it hurt?)

Anyway, it was a rather warm day…somewhere in the mid 80s…and it was up-hilly.

Just follow the cairns... 

But the view was totally worth it…

Swoon, huh?

The first of several selfies of the weekend...

Oh look, another selfie. (Can you see a tiny bit of the arch between us?)

After hiking the Delicate Arch, we got back on the road and headed on south to...Monticello, Utah.

Have you ever heard of Monticello? I'm not sure I had until I started looking at hotels down in the "Four Corners Area" of Utah, to be honest. We were either going to stay in Monticello or Blanding, and we opted for Monticello because they have a temple there, and we wanted to do a session there. And do you want to know something? Besides the temple, there's not much else in that teeny, tiny community. 

Aaaanyway, we got to our hotel later than we intended, and we took the quickest showers of our lives, and we rushed off to the temple (which was less than 1/4 mile from our hotel) to make it to the 7:15 session in time. 

We made it in plenty of time, by the way. (I think we were dressed and seated with more than 20 minutes to spare; but we'd rather be early than late.)

It's a wee little temple, but the workers inside were some of the kindest people I've ever met.

We didn't get out of the temple until around 9:30, and by that time I was stupid with hunger, so we drove around the little town (it took all of five minutes) in search of a place to eat. The only "restaurant" that was open was Subway, which was actually inside a gas station. But I was ever so grateful that it was open. (I'm telling you, we drove past the little grocery store, and it seemed like that might've even been closed by then.)

Wow, I'm being really wordy here, aren't I?

Let's see if I can be more concise for the remainder, shall we? 

Friday morning, we found our way to Four Corners Monument: Utah, Colorado, Arizona, New Mexico. It was quite hot, and we enjoyed walking around the artisan booths looking at Native American jewelry and sand paintings, etc. Then we weaseled our way into the gaggle of human tourists to get our picture taken as we sat on all four states at the same time.

Along the way, Mom said, "I wonder how many snakes per square foot there are out here."

My butt was in Arizona, and Mom's was in Utah. Boom, baby.

This was obviously another selfie...

After Four Corners, we headed to Cortez, Colorado, to check out the Indian ruins...but I hadn't done enough homework to figure out exactly where the hyroglyphics were located, and my GPS led us into private property, so we didn't get to see the writing on the wall...

The locked gate was the telltale sign that we were on the wrong road.
Thanks a LOT, modern technology!

Instead we hightailed it to Mesa Verde National Park, and blah, blah, blah...we went on a ranger guided tour of something called Balcony House. We ended up going up a rather high, steep ladder, and my feet were sweating the whole time in my dang Chacos. It was a dang cool tour, though...

Before we got to our tour, we stopped a few times to take pictures of the cliff side dwellings.

It's crazy to think that people lived right inside the cliffs like they did!
Just for reference: this cliff house here? It's at the top of a very steep cliff.

This cliff, to be precise.

At Balcony House. This is right about the time that my feet started sweating...

This was another ladder. Not as high as the first.

Inside Balcony House

Ummm...this is looking at one of the Kivas, I think.

Proof(ish) that we were there.

This part was the worst. These teeny, narrow little steps cut into the cliff side.
You better believe I white-knuckled the chains the whole way up. While praying.

After Balcony House, we headed back to Monticello. Fortunately, we got to town before all the restaurants closed up, and we ate at a rather tasty diner called PJ's Restaurant. Delicious burger and fries, PJ. Good job.

Since the night was still rather young (8:00ish), we walked all over the tiny town of Monticello to get in some exercise and see the sights:

"The sights" include the temple. And that's it.

I slept like a champ on Friday night. I think I crashed at, like, 10:00. Wow. And I do have to give a shout-out to our hotel (Inn at the Canyons); the room was very clean, and the bed is probably the most comfortable hotel bed I've ever slept on...

Saturday morning came, and northward we went! We stopped in Payson to check out the progress on the temple there. Also, we walked by the Provo City Center temple to see how it was coming along. Then we ate at a place called Guru's (YUM!), then we went to SLC for some shopping.

Maybe Four Corners isn't the most exciting place to take a little trip, but I think it's rad to have stood in four states at the same time. Mesa Verde is a really rad NP I didn't even know existed. And, as always, a weekend away with Momma was stupendous.

decorating my walls

This post is not for the faint-of-heart:

I'm about to talk a lot about stuff that might be deemed "boring" by some folks,

so if you don't want to read about shopping for stuff to hang in my living room,

go ahead and skip until you see pictures.

I've been spring cleaning of late. Quite a bit on Friday. That's mostly what I did with my day off, people. But don't weep for me (I know you're not--mostly you're annoyed with me for having every Friday off, but whatever); it needed to be done, so I did it.

I also started making "crusty bread" on Friday evening; you have to let the dough sit for 12-18 hours. It's the easiest bread recipe I've ever tried, and it. is. delicious. (Especially when you dip it in raspberry balsamic vinegar with a touch of lemon olive oil. Just sayin'.)

I got up early on Saturday to finish making the breads (I made two loaves), then I ran around like a chicken with its head cut off getting last-minute things done before my folks showed up. -Except they got here before I was done with my list, so...oopsie. Mom checked out my naked living room so she could get some ideas of how to dress it up, and Dad...did other stuff. (Checked his email? I don't know.)

And then we were offski!

We went  to lunch at the Snake Bite, which was super delish, and then we went shopping at a few places near downtown. To look for awesome stuff to put on my walls.

We went to a Shabby-to-Chic type place and I purchased a few things there. Dad walked in ahead of us, and I said to Mom, "I give dad 60 seconds to be bored of this place." Five minutes later, he told us he was bored, and are we about done? I told him, "You lasted longer than I thought you would," and he said something about, "I waited a few minutes before I mentioned anything to you." Do I know my father, or what? -The store is ridiculously fun if you have two X chromosomes, so Mom and I obviously weren't done that soon; I told Dad he could walk by the river. He came back before we were quite finished.

After that, we went to a bazaar right next door, and Dad promptly got bored there, too. He did wander around a bit longer, finding blocks with cute sayings that he figured my mom might like, but the poor fellow was bored stupid within 10 minutes. So he called his younger brother Shawn, who lives in town. And Shawn totally saved the day; he showed up and "rescued" my dad from Craft Shop Craziness, and Mom and I were able to look around unhindered by the tall bald man looking at us all forlorn-like. (Thanks again for "rescuing" my dad, Uncle Shawn! You're the hero!)

We only hit one more store after the bazaar. Mom found a fun, gigantic painting to hang on my wall; we weren't sure exactly where to put it on my wall at home, but I couldn't walk away from it.

I carried that painting under my armpit as it rested on the top of my foot to the checkout line while Mom looked around a bit more, and I couldn't help but think that there was no way this painting would fit in my folks' car.  I made my purchase and then laughed right out loud as Mom and I tried to carefully make it fit into the Jetta.

It. Didn't. Fit.

Mom said she'd stay with the painting while Dad and I went to get my car (a Nissan Altima, with a much larger back seat). We left her there outside the store as the wind raged. Without a cell phone. (She has one, but left it at home.) We hit every red light, and it took us a long time to get back to her with my car. (Probably 20 minutes, and I only live 2 miles away from where we left her.)

The painting didn't fit in my car, either.

No, really.

The picture was too big by about an inch and a half, if we wanted to shut the door (which is absolutely what we wanted).

That's when my dad volunteered to walk that damn painting to my house. Two miles away. (Let it be noted: the painting is light-weight. But let it also be noted that it's freakishly large, and the wind was blowing.)

I just measured my painting, guys. It's 39" by 59".

Thanks, Dad, for walking my painting home. In the wind. You are the hero.

Mom and I got home before Dad by, like, 25 minutes, probably. So we got to work hanging a shelf up in my room. (We didn't want to start hanging any of the rest of my purchases on the living room walls until we got the painting home. You understand.)

Dad walked in and said he was about to pass out, and that he should probably eat some carbs, stat. (Dad is diabetic, see.) I gave him a little handful of Cadbury eggs and had him sit down for a bit.

WOW, I'm long-winded!

I know it's too late for  the "long story, short" thing, but I'll condense it from here on out: Mom helped me figure out what should go where, and my living room looks so much better now! After we finished hanging everything, I fed my folks some delicious crockpot cheesy taco soup with homemade crusty bread (dipped in raspberry balsamic with a touch of lemon olive oil)...and then my folks headed back to Brigham City.

I know Mom and I nearly killed Dad from boredom. And then from my ginormous painting. But I had a stellar weekend, and I'm glad I was able to spend time with my folks. They're awesome people, and I miss seeing them on a more regular basis.

Here are two rather hastily-taken pictures of some of my new walls:

The black word on the dining room wall says "Delish"
Mom said, "It's totally a Gina word."
Then there's the freakishly large painting, roosting garishly between dining and living.

And here's a shelf I bought at that Shabby-to-Chic store. I LOVE IT.

I am sincerely content with my newly dressed walls. They were outright barren before, and the giant, untouched space between the dining and living rooms was dreary to my soul.

Aaaanyway.

This was one of the loaves of crusty bread I made Friday/Saturday.
Ri-dang-diculously delish.

And this happened Friday evening.

I thought about taking a picture or two of Mom, Dad and me on Saturday, but that was before I realized I wasn't wearing any makeup.

Not one stitch of it.

I'd been out in a number of very public places for roughly 3 hours before I looked in a mirror and realized that my face was as naked as my walls at home. I chastised my parents for letting me out of the house in such a state: Dad hadn't noticed at all (no real surprise there); Mom noticed, but she thought I knew and that I was fine with it, "because it's Saturday." I mean...ugh.

Here's the worst part, though: I was walking around the bazaar, looking at this and that, when I looked up and saw a tall and handsome stranger walking towards me. He looked at me and smiled, and I totally smiled back (because that's how I "flirt" without coming off...wrong). I thought we had a moment, you know? But now I can't help but think that smile must've been a figment of my imagination, you know? Because I feel gremlin-esque sans makeup. I don't wear a ton of foundation anyway, but since I can't wear mascara any more, I never leave the house without at least a bit of shadow and liner. 

 ^ THAT ^ is me being dramatic. I went the entire day without makeup, and it was a really good day so it doesn't even matter.

My weekend was stupendous, I love my house, and my parents are the best. I'm a very lucky girl.

HEY-oh!

I'm in Brigham this weekend, thoroughly enjoying family time & getting a few things done for my place in I.F.

And I must say: it's been a lovely weekend...

I've spent some time squishing on some of my nieces and nephews (all of them, minus Aaron and Amy's boys--I'm planning on hitting you up in a couple of weeks!); squishing on these little ones kind of makes my world go round.

I bought a new TV stand, and Dad helped Goose put it together last night. (Thanks again for that, Goose. And thanks for lending your husband and his talents while your babies got tireder and tireder, Janel. I love you all!)

Today, I got going on a crafty little table runner I found through Pinterest; a table runner that may seem rather childish, but I think it turned out cute. (It requires large Popsicle sticks, watercolors, and painters tape.) A big thank-you to Janie for her help!

Mom sewed some fabric for a valance for my dining room at home. She's amazing and wonderful and generous, folks. In about 7.2 billion ways...

Also: I made some pretzel rolls.

I was planning on making bread this weekend anyway, but I shifted my exact plans when Dad kept looking for pretzel rolls at different stores and found none. He's kind of been on the lookout for a few months, so I found a recipe online and set forth on my new goal.

Side note: I love making bread but I hate making rolls. I don't like making rolls because I loathe separating the dough into so dang many portions. It's not that getting the rolls into precise ad equal portions is important to me: I don't care about that at all. I just really, really hate wasting my time breaking the dough apart so many dang times.

Vance told me, and I quote, "Gina, that's weird. That makes you weird." Especially since I don't care about the rolls being the same size? I can deal with that. I'm full of quirks, is what.

Anyway, Vance came over this morning, and he portioned the rolls and I made them pretty. After letting them rise, we did a water bath (as per the instructions), and then we baked them.

And, by golly, those pretzel rolls were delicious.




Another side note: I found out, after I started making the rolls this morning, that Dad's been looking for them since Mom mentioned something about wanting some, like, months ago. Isn't my dad just the sweetest? I think he really likes my mom.

After dinner tonight, Mom and I made some homemade Oreos, And we prepped our soup for tomorrow's lunch.

I don't mind this whole "domestic" thing. In fact, I kind of enjoy it.

And it's basically a given, but I'm going to say it anyway: I love my family and I'm so grateful for all the love and support they give me. Also, I'm glad that we like each other and enjoy spending time together. I'm a lucky lady, indeed.

the secret ingredient...

I love stuffing. Just regular old StoveTop stuffing. It makes me smile just thinking about it. Reminds me of Thanksgiving with my family, you know?

the stuffing...

My momma is a cute momma, and she sent me home from Thanksgiving with a package of StoveTop so I could make some to extend the joy and deliciousness that is Thanksgiving. Isn't she thoughtful?! I love that momma of mine!

Last week sometime, I was feeling awfully snacky. (Don't even ask the Brookes how snacky I was; it toed the line of ridiculous.) Anyway, I was feeling snacky and had a major hankering for StoveTop! So I followed the directions on the package (as easy as 1, 2, 3 really) and plunged a fork into the hot fluff and...

Let's just say it was less than satisfying...

Then I remembered: I'm no good at making stuffing. Somehow I forget this fact, and every time I crave stuffing and venture to make it myself, reality comes crashing around me when I take that first bite. Every. Time. It's disappointing, to say the least.

Don't worry, I called my mom then and there and I told her how amazing her stuffing is. I don't know if she believed me at first; she may have thought I was yanking her chain, because it's, like...stuffing. Easy to make. But she said, "Thanks," and acted all gracious and stuff, because that's what my mom is.

Anyway, I followed those directions...just like I do every time...just like Ma does. But I must've missed something. Every time! I think the secret ingredient is LOVE...

I'll probably always love Mom's StoveTop above anyone's; one day, I'll tell my grandchildren about the wonderful stuffing my mother used to make. It'll be nostalgic, and they (my grandchildren) may think I'm off my rocker, because it's only stuffing. Nobody will ever quite understand; do you get what I'm saying?

Me and Momma, Christmas 2008
Which reminds me: she makes the stuffing every Christmas too!

regarding the ginabean...

Back in the day, when I was a wee lass living at home with my entire immediate family, scuffles sometimes occurred. And it wasn't just between the brood of boys, either. No, no...I, the lone girl sandwiched between 2 boys on each side, was occasionally involved.

We fought, just like any normal family, see...

At times, my brothers and I would say mean things about each other. Face to face.

That's not to say that our home was one of chaos and hatred. No, we loved each other, but didn't always like each other, if you know what I mean.

On the occasions that things felt less than peaceful, Mom fought back.

With love.

In fact, that's what she called our punishment: "You two are withloved!" This meant that the kids in question had to sit by each other on the loveseat until we liked each other again.

This usually felt a bit cruel and unusual, if you catch my drift. WHY would Mom inflict us with each other for (sometimes) ridiculously long periods of time when she knew full-well that we, in fact, didn't like each other?

I already know that I'll be using this with my own crew of kids one day.

If they ever fight, I mean...

Another something Mom did when her children had heated words is this: for every mean thing we said about the dumb kid who, for reasons unknown, God gave us as a sibling, we would have to say two nice things about that kid. Got that ratio? 1 mean:2 nice.

Torturous. Seriously, when you think you hate someone, it's really hard to come up with something stupendous about them. And Mom wanted TWO stupendous things. Not an easy task, just so you know...

Now that we're all grown up, we think only the best of one another. Isn't that you and your siblings too? -Okay, not always, but try this one on for size: You are your own worst critic, don't you think? I actually have a pretty healthy self-esteem. But man, sometimes life happens fast and I feel little and insignificant, and when lots of crap flies, it's sometimes hard to find the good in one's self.

There there, little ego.

So. In light of the aforementioned "punishments" a loving mother inflicted on her chillins, I'm going to inflict the same punishment on myself.

I am going to come up with two good things about me. FOR ALL THE WORLD TO READ.

Are you ready?

#1. I've never made a bad apple pie. I'm being completely honest here, folks. Alright, sometimes I've made ugly apple pies, but DANG, they always taste good. REAL good. The recipe is found right...here.

#2. I can change at darn-near lightning speed. Seriously, I'm quick at changing wardrobe. Out of church clothes (tights included!) and into jammies (booties included!) in no time flat. Okay, so I've never technically timed myself, but I'm faster than you, I'm sure of it. Here's a comparison; I'm the female equivalent of Clark Kent/Superman (minus all those special powers, I mean). Think about it, though; you've seen it in the movies and cartoons: CK enters a phonebooth, and before you've had time to blink, Superman emerges! I'm that fast, people.

What about you? What are your mad skills? It's definitely something worth thinking about...

better late than never...

Yesterday, as we all know, was Mother's Day. I started a poem a few months ago to dedicate to all the mothers out there, but I lost it. Somehow, I lost it! (Dang it!) And then I meant to get online and do a special post for my own Ma. But I kind of didn't get around to that. (Dang it again!)

Anyway, I figured a day late is better than not at all, so here goes...a special post for a special lady; her name is Julie, but I call her Momma...

a virtual Mother's Day bouquet...

What I've learned from my Momma:

*Honesty. I was born a horrible liar anyway, but my mother taught me from the time I was very small to be honest. She's always been honest with me, and I really respect and appreciate that.
*Faith. My mom has an unwavering testimony and she lives the Gospel. I also have a strong testimony, which sprouted at home from my mother's example.
*Cookery. My mom doesn't exactly love to cook, but she's really good at it anyway, and she always provided well-balanced meals for her brood. I remember, in the days of my youth, working in the kitchen with my mom, whether we were making dinner, brownies, pie, bread, or homemade blackberry/raspberry jam. Great memories...
*Family matters. Mom has always put family first. That means a lot, and it feels good to know that me and my brothers are her #1 priority. Feel the love.
*Look for the good. I lost count (years ago) how many times my mother has said, "You find what you're looking for." I'm not always great at this, but I know it's true; and honestly, I'd rather find something to laugh at than something to cry over...
*Boys aren't all bad. (Or maybe my brothers taught me that?) Mom grew up with 3 sisters and one brother; she herself birthed 4 sons and one daughter. I don't know if motherhood just came naturally to her or what, but she's dynamite at figuring out the individual needs of each of her kids and settling arguments (often between myself and Vance--back when we were young, I mean). Despite the scuffles I "endured" as the only sister, Mom talked me through a lot of annoyances (inspired by those darn brothers) and helped me find some good in those silly boys.
*Self-esteem. I realize my life is pretty good, but it's not always easy. My mom has always been my biggest fan and she's always believed in me. She's helped me (especially in those awkward teenage years) to realize I'm worthwhile, and that NO MATTER WHAT, she loves me. A lot. She's always enjoyed spending time with me, and she's helped me through my hardest times. Because she helped me recognize I'm alright, I'm comfortable in my own skin and I know I can do hard things (even if I'd rather not). Isn't that fantastic?!
*Gratitude. There's so much to be grateful for, right? My mom taught me to look for the good (see number...five), but she also taught me to express my appreciation to those around me and to my Heavenly Father for all He has blessed me with.
*Lots of other stuff. I'm surely one lucky gal to have such a wonderful mother...

Here's to you, Momma!

gender: xx

This is my momma...

She came up from Brigham City to chill with me.

It. Was. Awesome.

The picture above is really the only one I took all weekend. (Shame on me!) But that's not to say that we didn't have ourselves a dynamite time, oh no!

Here are some words and phrases that remind me of the weekend passed...

*"grape steak" and tootsie rolls *Thorn Birds *hot soup! *homemade bread
*"Let's give him to Lisa." *Jon (Jacob Jingleheimer) Schmidt
*thin strips of grass that are not worth mowing *late night conversations!
*"I have no idea where we are. Give me another block and I'll figure it out..."
*"I'm gonna pass out." *pulled pork *peeled grapefruit

...among other things. I had such a fun time with my roommates and our mothers! Thanks for coming, Ma! I think you're the greatest!