From the Derp Files

Today was our ward Halloween party. We absolutely love, adore and cherish Halloween at this house. I sent Bella up to the attic to fetch our Halloween boxes so we could costume up for the evening, and in one of the boxes was this little plastic pair of handcuffs:

Derp de derp derp

I tried several ways to remove them, including Hubby's real life handcuff key, but they weren't budging.

Some thirty minutes later I had to take Harrison to his soccer game and was just about to escape his embarrassed teenager notice when he spied my new attachment. "You're not wearing those, are you??"

Okay, I guess I'm not.

He had the bright idea of using a Swiss Army knife accessory to flip the little switch (this one's switch was broken, the other side's was fine - go figure) and free his mother from her stupidity...at least in this instance.

The game was great - I sat in the car and rehearsed my talk for Sacrament tomorrow - and we rushed back just in time to hand Hubby the candy and decorations and kiss him and the other kids goodbye. Brennan stayed home - ward parties aren't his scene. :) We had signed up to take one of the doors at the church and pass out candy, and also to bring a bread item. I made two pans of our favorite breadsticks and then Harrison and I were off.

Lots of good chili, tons of variety, and lots of food. Cute costumes, fun people, and candy. It was a good night.

Later: "Cry me a river so I can swim around and laugh in it" made me laugh myself to sleep.

And who names a town in Montana "Musselshell"??

My question, while doing genealogical research or something today. I have several relatives who were born there. I finally read that the town and county Musselshell are named after the Musselshell River, which was named by Lewis and Clark after they found freshwater MUSSELS living along the banks of the river.

WHO KNEW!!  It's an amazing world, isn't it?

Meanwhile, it's Parent-Teacher Conference week, and the kids are home from school, which means: keep the food coming and the dishwasher running. The Five Mouths are living up to their name.

Oh it's a tough little life

Messing around with iTunes today, I was reminded of this golden oldie, and of spending rainy days down in our Brookings basement with BC, listening to Mom and Dad's records. Good times.

Watch out for hop-ons

You're gonna get some hop-ons.

"How was your birthday?" (wink, wink)

Tonight I went out with the guy I started dating 22 years ago today.

We went to Red Robin and had burgers, and pretzel bites for an appetizer. Mmmm.

I'm really, really glad I started dating him. :)

Hubby's Birthday

A very fun day. Hubby stayed home from work and we ate, a lot.

If you order a biscuit, this is what you get.

For dinner we went to Red Robin with the kids. It was one of our weirder RR experiences - the table was VERY small and the service was slow (on a Wednesday night?). But we made it through, thank goodness.

Happiest of Birthdays to my sweet man.
The world is a sunnier place with you in it.
Love you always.

Church Ladies...

...from my old McWard, in particular, used to tease me about all my shoe pics on Facebook. I just really like shoes. Like, a lot. So here's one for them:

Score-age

I found these very distinctive Danskos at Value Village today. And I'm happy, dad burn it. They're in perfect shape and size 5 1/2, which has been pretty much impossible for me to fit into since I had Brennan.

SO THERE. Laugh your butts off. ;)

Boston Town

Woke up in Boston and I think we ate our leftover stuff from last night for breakfast... either that, or I was still so full from late dinner that food was nowhere near my agenda. Also, it was 4 AM our time, not a big meal time normally.

Mom and I packed everything up, took our bags downstairs and deposited them in the hotel's closet for people who want to traipse around without lugging their stuff everywhere... I will NEVER pack that much again. It was horrid. I think I reopened at least one of my hernias.

Here's looking at you

The Salem hat, which is awesome, had to stay unpacked or it would lose its awesomeness. It made for some fun stares and double takes, since I had to either wear it or carry it everywhere we went. When asked, I usually said "We bought it in Salem," which usually brought a knowing "Ohhhhhhhhh."

We went on a cute trolley tour with MILES the tour guide and his adorable Boston accent. The hat rode shotgun on my knee.

Mom and me on the trolley - I'm wearing my spooky Salem scarf

Keep in mind that the rest of these pictures are taken from inside the trolley. Miles wasted no time between stops. This first one is of the cemetery where Paul Revere and other notable Revolutionary era people are buried. I must say the "no left turn" sign is exceptional.

Granary Burying Ground

First Burial Ground, Woburn*, Massachusetts

After getting lunch and driving directions from the super cute Boston accent-having waiter - I could seriously move to New England just to pick that accent up - Mom and I drove around Woburn until we found our ancestor's cemetery. Lieutenant Matthew Johnson, a native of England, emigrated to Woburn, Massachusetts, was taxed as a resident in 1666, died and was buried in 1696, which blows my mind - some of my people were here in America at least a century before the Revolutionary War began.

This was fun: a woman on the sidewalk, seeing our rental car, with California plates, sang "California, here I come..." to us as we drove down the street in Woburn. Yes, the tourists are here. I haven't traveled much, so being asked "Where are you ladies from?" whenever our not-Boston accents made an appearance never lost its novelty.

This was a cemetery experience like nothing I'd ever had before. First Burial Ground was probably once part of a lovely community, and it's not that Woburn isn't lovely, but the cemetery is right in the middle of an urban area with a 7-11 store and rundown apartments across the street. I'm used to the closed off, landscaped, respected grandeur of Park Hill and Willamette. Of course no one has been buried in First Burial Ground for probably two centuries, so no close descendants are alive to care for the graves - and pre-Revolutionary cemeteries are so common around here, people probably aren't in awe of them.

We looked, and looked, and looked for a long time, trying to find our grandfather Matthew Johnson's headstone. It's not a big cemetery and many of the headstones have fallen prey to the elements or vandals, so we didn't have many to search, but we made the rounds two or three times and still couldn't find what we were looking for. Mom and I were disappointed, but I'm very glad that some sweet soul grabbed a picture of Matthew's headstone a few years ago, before it was lost.

Photo by Fred Rose

Many of these very thin, fragile headstones have the same design, with an extremely primitive-looking skull surrounded by wings carved into the top. I also love the lettering, and the paragraph style epitaphs.

What an absolutely cool experience.

*pronounced WOO-burn. Now you too can sound like a Massachusetts-er.

Four Corners Cemetery, Sullivan, New Hampshire

(Or "New HampSHIRE???" as I had to repeat whenever I saw a New Hampshire road sign. Thanks, Bob Wiley!)

This is seriously the coolest cemetery I have ever seen in my life, and that's saying something.  If you ever wanted to spend a spooky Halloween in a foggy, leafy, tree-y, creepy cemetery, this would be the one to do it in. So impossibly creepy, it doesn't even have a STREET ADDRESS - I had to use latitude and longitude measurements to find it. It's really kind of silly, since it's right in Sullivan. Sullivan has about three buildings, and then bam, there's the cemetery.

Also, bonus, my Revolutionary War patriot ancestor was buried here, the one my great grandmother Alice Keen connected herself to in order to join NSDAR. How very cool to see his grave in person.

Evergreen Cemetery, Rutland, Vermont

By far, one of the most memorable experiences of our trip.

Cemeteries make us ridiculously happy

Before we left for Boston, I spent some quality time researching this branch of the family and their last known physical addresses, which led us to Rutland Cemetery in Rutland, Vermont. It was extremely trippy.

While Mom parked the car, I walked into a dusty, wonderfully musty cemetery office populated by three men in various positions of relaxation. I spoke to the one who looked the most in charge and asked if he could help us find some family graves. He asked the names, I gave them to him, and he said. "Ohhh." Then to his cronies: "Those are the ones with the theft."

Uh, what?  "Something was stolen?" I asked, thinking maybe there was a figurine or some decorative thing removed by the neighborhood toughs. Just the usual cemetery hijinks. The guy was very quiet until he said, "Let me take you up there."

Just a beautiful, beautiful cemetery, by the way. It's located on a hill with huge old trees, and as it was a sunny day in early October, the leaves were starting to turn, but it was still pretty warm. We followed the man as he drove us around to the graves we were looking for.

We made it to our family's gravesites. The cemetery man explained that these family members had done very well for themselves, financially, and the father had had built an underground crypt for his family's burials, accessible by three granite slabs placed in the ground. Above ground is a cupola and other headstones engraved with their names.

"So what about that theft?" I asked.

Cue the neighborhood toughs. Cemetery Man said that as a prank, some high school boys had removed one of the slabs in order to access the stairs down into the crypt. Upon entering the crypt, they encountered the family in various stages of decomposition, and they stole a skull. They took my aunt's skull off her body.

I can't even imagine how gross, scary, or stupid, but I have to admit that my respect for the neighborhood toughs rose slightly - just the physical act of removing that slab was impressive. And then - this must have shocked the guy - Mom and I started cracking up laughing.

He continued the story by telling us that the crime went unsolved for quite a while until one of the boys' moms found the skull in her son's closet. We laughed harder.

Once the skull was returned to the cemetery, one of the cemetery guys had to go down into the crypt and, uh, give the skull back to its owner... speaking of gross. I wondered who the lucky cemetery employee was. And then, he said, they filled in the stairs with dirt. "So if anyone tries pulling up a slab again, all they'll see is a bunch of dirt. There's no way to access the crypt now."

A few days later in Salem, Massachusetts, to honor our auntie's skull's trip to the kid's closet, Mom bought a wonderful black scarf with cute white skulls on it for me. Thanks, Cemetery Man, for the memories!

All the Proctor Ladies

...pick your pens up!

At the Vermont State Archives in Montpelier, we found our ancestor Dorcas Dimmick Proctor's signature on a petition from the "Ladies of Vermont" to the state of Vermont to end the sale of "ardent spirits". 

SHE TOUCHED THIS.

When I tell you the air was thick in that little room, and there were goosebumps galore... 

Mom and I are having a WONDERFUL time.

Montpelier, Vermont

After not a great night's sleep at the airport Shilo Inn - I think we were too excited, worried we'd sleep in and miss our flight, and missing our beds (already) - we awoke in our hotel room, got ready, took our stuff downstairs to the shuttle, checked in at the airport and had a wonderful uneventful flight to Boston.

Boston traffic was an adventure. Stupid Boston traffic. We got lost, stuck in rush hour, someone's car broke down in our lane, the whole shmear, but we did get to see a little of Boston. It was exciting when it wasn't frustrating. Once we figured out how to get out of town, we headed northwest to Montpelier, Vermont.

We chose Montpelier as the first place to stay because the Vermont state archives are kept there at the capitol (actually, outside of town in a little office in Middlesex) and part of our reason for going was genealogy finding.

We stayed at The Inn at Montpelier in downtown Montpelier. It's a darling town and I wish we'd had more time to spend there. The Inn was lovely. The room was a bit small, but nice. I'd definitely stay there again.

Just. Ick.

My top three SNL alum films:

3. Wedding Singer
2. Tommy Boy
1. The Blues Brothers

After spending the morning becoming more intimately acquainted with the STUPID kitchen floor, I've come up with several solutions for keeping it clean. So far I have the "Adopt a Tile" program, rather like Adopt a Highway, in which each child would adopt a set of tiles to scrub. Or, I may number and name each tile and put them on a schedule. "It's Hilda's turn today."

I tried mopping. Mopping is also stupid.

The Most Interesting Woman in the World

I don't always watch mindless garbage on YouTube. But when I do...
Oh, who are we kidding.

And now, a recipe.

An Apple!!! No mixing needed!! Click SHARE to keep on your timeline!!!!!!
Recipe: One apple
Water for washing
A knife or maybe one of those cute apple cutter things if you're into those (optional)

Directions: Wash apple with water (add something else to the water to get the apple really clean if you're serious about it). Use knife or cute apple cutter thingie to cut into wedges, if desired.

Eat the thing.

Heather M: Where has this recipe been all my life? THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR POSTING THIS! This is going to change EVERYTHING for me!
Heather M: Only, I don't like apple peels. Do you think there is a recipe for an apple without the peel on it?
Me: That's an entirely different recipe. Let me check my box and see if I have it
Stacey S: What luck, I have happen to have an apple slicer! Now, is tap water okay? Or should I use bottled? Maybe perrier or peru if I'm feeling fancy.
Jean Knee: can you make one on how to make toast? mine never turns out
Suzanne S: BWHAHAHAHA!
Suzanne S: I love you guys!!!
Angela B: Heather, Dr Oz suggests eating the peels to promote regularity. Also, I know someone who didn't eat peels and almost died from a rare but deadly peel-deficiency disease.
Heather M: NOOOooooooooo! Peel deficiency disease runs in my family!
Me: Sounds pretty serious. I couldn't find the recipe but it's just as well.
Lisa S: Glad I saw this! I needed an after school snack idea!
Mary Jean J: Pick it off my own tree, and washing isn't necessary...and I did today and even my bird would eat this one, but not the ones from the store. Figure????
Me: You have a smart bird
 Mary Jean J: Tells me he is smarter than I am.

(My friends and I got sick of everyone else posting recipes on Facebook so we decided to post ridiculous "recipes" to be silly. Heather posted a recipe for cold cereal.)

Whistlers' Mother

"NO PARKOUR ON SUNDAY!!!"
My boys are fans of American Ninja Warrior. I had to yell at Carter on the way out to the car from church today....little dinguses. He was doing it through the church shrubs. It felt a tad disrespectful. More than anything it was a fun thing to shout. It wasn't a really loud screamy shouty yell, more of a slightly higher-pitched admonition. But yes, I did have to consider which one of us was being more irreverent, the parkour-er or the shouter.

Two of my children have picked up Mom's whistling habit. It's as if they're wearing collars with little bells - we can tell right where they are at all times. I was asked to fill in for the Primary piano player today...was playing a song and soon heard someone whistling along with it. I looked over and sure enough, it was my Rosalind. Awwww.

Later: Eatin' lasagna. DON'T JUDGE ME.

George G: I would only judge you favorably for lasagna...
Me: ONLY JUDGE ME FAVORABLY
Erin G: Ha! That's actually what everyone MEANS when they say "Don't judge me".
Me: You are correct madam.
Ernie: How dare you eat lasagna...are ya too good for spaghetti or something ?
Me: Yes. I am. I look down my nose at spaghetti.
Ernie: Me too.. Only stuffed ravioli and manicotti for me please.
Me: Exactly. No ricotta = not happening
Ernie: Do you remember when Gran used to substitute cottage cheese... I felt like haha Gran, stupid great depression.....lol
Me: Yeah but I liked it.
Ernie: Me too
Melissa C: Next FB screen name....Garfield.
Me: I was tossing around Taft actually
Melissa C: Literally? Gross. Mans been dead a century or so.
Me: Which made him easier to toss...he lost quite a bit of weight
Mel: Now I AM judging you. So there.
Me: You CHUBBUCKS
Jami L: Makes a fine breakfast.
Me: It does.
Jason K: There are no judgments, only if that is not vegan style Lasagna.
Me: Five cheeses. All from a COW (unless they slipped something else in there)
Mel: Pot
Me: Pot. Pot?
Jason K: I am sure that Natalie would never let that slip through her keen sense of smell. Besides, I think Brian might have caught it as well. It is legal in that neck of the woods...
Mel: Caught it, but snickered as she ate it...
Me: This being WA, you never know. But I meant sheep cheese or goat cheese or yak cheese
Mel: It is Vegan too, so no worries.
Jason K: horse cheese
Me: Cat cheese
Mel: Horse cheese is better than horse buns. (horse buns horse buns)
Me: I one the horse buns
Jason K: but not as good as hot crossed buns
Mel: I two the horse buns... *snicker*
Me: Maybe there was pot in it.
Mel: At your house? I don't think we need to ask. It's always assumed.
Me: Is it?
Mel: Hee... No.

Later still: I had to shout, NO TWERKING BEFORE FAMILY PRAYER

Naughty

Being VERY disobedient to my timer today. Flylady would be so disappointed. "Flylady dropout...no purple puddles day for you...." The timer is the only piece of Flylady advice I've used more than once. 

Mel: Rebel! Rebel!
Me: Rebels against Flylady Frank
Mel: Won't do what she suggests Sigmond
Me: Tells off Flylady Fiona
Mel: Figures she's a dip Dan

While avoiding my timer's prompting like the plague, I've been genealogy-ing and listening to Oingo Boingo: "There's a place in the stars for when you get old."

And while genealogy-ing, I found my grandma's college yearbook picture online. Sweet find.

1938 Walla Walla College Yearbook

Karen R: I still see Candace in her, I also see Becky's smile
Mel: They all look like adults, even in high school!
Me: This is college.
 Mel: Oh. Well still, that generation mastered looking older than they were.
Me: You know, for these Keen girls to be in college during the 30s... Grandma and Grandpa Keen must have worked really hard. I'm looking at their 1940 census record and neither one of them made it past the 8th grade.
Mel: Wow! That's a pretty crazy step up.
Me: Inspiring, isn't it. Kind of feminist of them, too.
Mel: Absolutely! Equality is where it's at!
Me: But for this to be happening during the Depression... pretty amazing. I want to hug them.
Mel: Great drive and hope.
Me: Yep. I feel like I have no excuses for anything now.
Mel: Except your bad smell.
Me: Bad Smell Frank
Me: I smell awesome right now, I'll have you know
Mel: Me too, just did a run by showering on myself.
Me: With the hose?
Brian D: What does the quote say?
Me: "Heart on her lips, and soul within her eyes, Soft as her clime, and sunny as her eyes." I think. Mel: When isn't it with a hose?
Me: When it's with your tongue
Nancy L: I never knew about her college days!!!
Gary D: Dot's secret life....lol
Nancy L: I guess so!!!!
Mom: Oh yes...remember she went to Seattle for a singing competition with a group from the college and got sent home for being caught drunk? She was supposed to write the college and apology but wouldn't so they kicked her out....??
Mom: Uncle Mel told me all about it.
Mom: She was engaged and he broke it off because of it.
Mom: Three weeks later she met and married Dad [Carl Dysart Jr.]
Mel: Sounds like crazy youth runs in the family. Now I know who to blame for my bad behavior! *wink wink*
Me: She was a sassy gal.
Me: I wonder who her fiance was.
Mel: Someone who didn't appreciate a rebel, apparently. Thank goodness! We wouldn't be here without Grandpa.

Can't. Wait.

October 1st, baby!!

Inferno

This heat is killing my give-a-crap. Just sitting here sweating and wondering what the point of showering today was.

First Day of School 2013

This was a tough one: Bella's senior year, Harrison starting high school and 

Carter starting middle school. My poor mama heart.

Poor little H looks so nervous

"Gimme money"

Love, love, love this outfit

His first year at D school, where he
"won't know anyone." We found out in June that
due to our living here, he wasn't registered at the school
we thought he'd be going to.
We told him he could try this school for a while. 

Fun :)

Rosalind the fourth grader has a double class and two teachers (Mr. W and Mrs. A-B) this year. It brings back fun memories of my fourth grade double class.