Quilting and An Explosion

I wish all of you could hang out with my mom...just for a little while.

She makes even normal situations fun.

I'll give you an example.

Most nights find us at my sister's house quilting. (My mom believes that all weddings should involve homemade quilts. We're working on quilt #2. It's beautiful, but I have holes in my fingers from the needles.

Last night we were quilting, discussing life's problems, when the house shook. Really, it shook. The windows rattled, the walls creaked, and we all just looked at each other. "Was that an earthquake?" we asked.

Mom called Dad who was two streets over, watching the Olympics. "Did the house just shake?" she asked him. He said no.

My sister got up and walked around the house, checking on her girls as she went. They were fine.

Concluding that it was not an earthquake we went back to quilting.

Later that night my sister-in-law called. "It was a gas leak. A house exploded a few blocks away." And when she gave us the address Mom thought it was the home of one of her friends. When we left my sister's house later that night Mom said, "Let's go see where the explosion was."

We couldn't get anywhere near where the explosion was. There were emergency vehicles everywhere. I'm guessing they had to call for help from the neighboring towns...Pleasant Grove doesn't have that many cops. We were nearing a stop sign and I said, "Let's turn left." Mom immediately turned her blinker on...but it was the right blinker. "Left Mom," I said. The blinker didn't change. "Mom, let's turn left," I said again, and then she turned right. "Okay, I guess we can turn right but now we're going away from the explosion." And then she started laughing...a lot.

"Noelle, that was left. I thought we were going left. Oh I'm losing my mind." A few minutes later she said, "I'm going to turn right." And then she turned left.

Tangent

One time in Brazil we were driving down the street and Mom heard a ticking noise.

"What's that noise?" she asked. I didn't hear it. "What is it?" she asked again. I still didn't hear it. "Oh my word, what if it's a bomb???" (and she asked it in all seriousness.) I finally heard the noise she was talking about. "Mom, that's not a bomb, it's your blinker." Oh that lady...

End of Tangent

This morning we drove back to the explosion sight. Mom said that word on the street (and Mom's street is Curves where she exercises every morning) is that the home was very likely a Meth Lab. (But you know how women get when we talk...who knows what's true.) We pulled in between three news vans and some emergency vehicles and I quickly took a picture...just for you.

It's the best I could do. There was a cop there giving me a look.

Oh...and while we're at it, look at this lovely quilt my mom and sister made me. I think I'll keep them around.

For Your Reading Pleasure

A few days ago a package arrived from Grandma and Grandpa D in Washington.

Grandma and Grandpa D are my nieces grandparents.

My nieces talked all day about that package from Washington.

When my sister was getting Sami ready for bed that night, Sami (who will be 3 in July) said:

"Mommy, Grandpa D in the washing machine?"

My sister said, "What Sami?"

And Sami repeated her question: "Grandpa D in the washing machine?"

It took my sister a minute and then it clicked.

"Yes Sami, Grandpa D is in Washington."

And Sami smiled, happy that her question was answered.

* * * * *

My brother is working on getting his mortgage loan remodified. He's been talking to lots of people...giving them a very detailed list of his expenses.

He was on the phone yesterday with a lady who suggested that he renegotiate the terms of the percentage of tithing he pays. (Most members of our church pay 10% of their income to tithing.)

"Maybe you can talk with your ecclesiastical leader about changing the percentage," the lady said.

Ben said, "Well, we're taught in the Bible that tithing is 10%."

"That's a lot of money. Surely if you talk to your church leader and explain the situation, he will let you lower the percentage."

Ben tried again. "Ma'am, it's not between me and my church leader, it's between me and God and the terms are non-negotiable."

* * * * *

My favorite greeting card says this:

TRUE STORY:

My cookbook says if I don't have 2 eggs, I can substitute with 3 egg yolks.

I don't think my cookbook understands my problems.

Grandpa Wednesday

I'm in love with this picture.

Young love doesn't get any better than this.

Post It Note Tuesday

For more sticky note fun head over to Supah's and check it out!

Glory Days

I think you should know that there was a time in my life when I could have my pick of any boy.

I'm pretty sure those boys stood in line waiting for their turn to be my boyfriend.

Once I hit the 7th grade things changed...but before the 7th grade...those were my glory days.

I had forgotten about my glory days. You know how it is, grade school was a very long time ago.

But the other day I drove past the house I grew up in and was reminded that those days really existed...

Don't you think it strange that no one ever painted over that shed?

I'm glad they didn't...some day when Emily needs proof that her mom was cool...

Well... I've got it.

Can I Tell You A Story?

My parents lived in Brazil for three years. My dad was asked to go and watch over a group of young men and women who were missionaries for our church. For some of those missionaries my dad was the closest thing to a father they had ever known. And oh how those missionaries loved my parents.

It was hard on those of us left at home to be without our parents for three years, but each of us had the opportunity to visit, and as we saw the good things our parents were doing, it was easier for us to have them gone.

My visit to Brazil lasted for two months. I lived with my parents and did what they did. When they traveled, I traveled with them, when they ate at the delicious Brazilian restaurants, I ate there too, when they went to meetings...you get the picture. I was their shadow and I loved it.

One evening one of the missionaries called my dad and asked for his help. He and his companion (another missionary assigned to work with him) were meeting with a family that night and they wanted my dad's help in teaching the lesson they were going to teach.

I was incredibly surprised to hear my dad tell the missionary yes...but only because I knew how busy he was. Not only was he in charge of watching over 150 plus missionaries, he was also in charge of the welfare of a large group of people in several cities in Brazil. He and my mom would drive for hours and hours to meet with people...people who were counting on my dad for their spiritual edification...and he did this every single day for three years.

I asked my dad if I could tag along. We arrived at a very humble home on the outskirts of the city. We were meeting with a man and his wife. The purpose of the meeting was to teach this couple more about God. When the missionaries introduced my dad to the couple as their 'President Platt' I could feel the love and respect they had for my dad and my heart was touched.

The meeting began with a prayer and then the missionaries started by asking the couple what they believed about God. (Because I speak Spanish I could understand most of what was said in Portuguese.) The husband answered that they believed in God but wanted to learn more...that's why they had asked the missionaries to come to their home.

And for the next 30 minutes or so, I sat and listened to my dad teach this couple about God...about His plan for His children, about Jesus Christ's role in that plan, and about the love that God and his Son have for each of us. And as I listened to the emotion in his voice as he expressed his own knowledge of a living and true God, I also got emotional.

I loved my dad a little more that day, and for that time, there was not another place my dad should have been.

What You've Been Waiting For

I think you should know that this dress and I have a love/hate relationship right now.

I wasn't sure I wanted to post pictures...because today I'm not feeling so much love.

But...

That's okay...you've waited patiently...so here it is:

THE DRESS (and the veil)

Passing Notes At Work

I found this note attached to a roll of paper towels in the bathroom:

"Dear Buyer of the Toilet Paper,

I don't know if you've noticed, but I am paper towels...you know, those things you use to dry your hands?

I am not meant to be used as toilet paper, and because I'm being used as such, I am having an identity crisis.

Could you please fix that?

Thank you! -"

Senor Paper Towels

Here is my reply:

Dear Writer of the Note,

Nowhere in my job description does it say that I am the buyer of the toilet paper.

In fact, it doesn't say I need to clean the bathroom either.

I just do it out of the kindness of my heart.

I'm going to let you in on a little secret...

If you take a quick jaunt to the building next door you will find an entire box full of toilet paper!

It's just waiting there, patiently, until it can fulfill it's duty.

And if on some rare chance the box is empty, WalMart is just down the street.

Very sincerely,

Noelle

Just A Question

I just sent a bunch of wedding announcements via Facebook.

Do you think that's cheating?

(I swear I'll write a real post tomorrow.)

Once Upon A Time...

I lived in Mexico

With this amazing family

I made a lot of friends

They were all veterinarians

They worked with goats and sheep

They wanted me to be involved with their work

I learned how to give the best 'Caring For Your Sick Goats' speech in Spanish

One day a friend said, "Want to be a veterinarian too?"

I said, "No thanks, I don't think so."

The friend said, "What, are you chicken?"

I said, "Maybe, would you like me more if I was?" (he was a vet after all)

He talked me into it

So then I became a veterinarian

My career didn't last long

I didn't have the right clothes

Or the right shoes

Or any desire whatsoever to help with the breeding process

But the goats...

They lived happily ever after

(I pulled this from the archives...hope you don't mind. Tomorrow I'll write a new post, promise!)

I Was 12 Miles From Home

When my phone rang.

"Hi Dad."

"Where are you?"

"In Springville."

"Why are you in Springville?"

"I'm just coming home."

"It's a good thing because I miss my daughter."

Thanks Dad. It's good to be missed.

What I've Been Up To

I'm sitting at Jason's desk bundled in one of his down coats. Monticello, the lovely town where Jason lives, is buried in snow. All I can see out of the office window is snow. Somehow that makes me feel colder.

Jason tells anyone who asks that I'm staying until Friday. I'm actually leaving tomorrow...I'm a busy girl and have a billion things to do.

The weekend has been full:

-I watched the opening ceremony of the Olympics with Jason's grandma...she's delightful...absolutely delightful. I wish all of you could spend an evening with her. She's a 91 year old bundle of energy and joy.

-We spent a day in Durango, Colorado where we snowshoed across a frozen lake, ate lunch at a Mexican restaurant, and did some shopping.

-Valentines Day included a delicious dinner with Jason's parents and grandma, a walk around town (I'm not kidding when I say the town is buried in snow), a blazing fire with logs that crackle, a heavenly foot massage, a bag full of goodness from Bath and Body Works, and ... some ... other stuff. Turns out Jason had ulterior motives when he gave me that foot massage.

-Today we made our way to Canyonlands National Park and hiked around a bit...climbed some fences, saw some pectoglyphs and dinosaur tracks...it's beautiful country.

-And now, at this moment, Jason is off in the other room playing the piano. It doesn't get much better.

Tomorrow I'll go back to reality but tonight looks promising...I think I'll get another blazing fire with crackling logs...and that makes me happy.

Please. To. Enjoy.

I'm headed out the door to spend the weekend with Jason.

I found this picture and thought I would share it.

My mom sent it to me from Brazil.

Isn't it lovely?

I love how it speaks of hope and promise.

We could all use some of that.

Have a good weekend friends!

A Few Things That Make Me Smile

Once a group of us went to Disneyland. We had a magical time.

(Doesn't everyone have a magical time?)

I can do two or three days of Disneyland but I need something to break it up.

Sometimes that something is a little jaunt across the border into Mexico.

(If I can talk people into going with me.)

I talked all these people into going with me.

We had a lovely time...

Until that burro took a big bite out of Becca's shirt.

I still laugh at the memory.

* * * * *

My mom is a big fan of vitamins and the like.

Every morning she hands my dad a big handful of pills in various shapes and colors and he swallows them dutifully.

Because Baby Sister still lives at home she gets in on some of the pill action.

Sami, my two year old niece, watched Grandma pass out pills one morning.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Pills," Grandma said.

"You sick Grandma?"

"No Sami, we're not sick."

"What's that?" Sami asked again.

"Pills for Amanda," Grandma replied.

"Manda sick?" Sami asked.

"Sick in the head," is what my dad whispered under his breath.

A few minutes later when Amanda came into the kitchen Sami ran up to her and said,

"Manda's head sick?"

Dad laughed for a while.

* * * * *

Sometimes I complain that I don't ever get anything in the mail but bills.

I'm a big fan of the internet and emails, but there is nothing better than getting a letter in the mail.

Once after I had complained about it again I found a letter in the mailbox addressed to:

Noelle Platt

Store Manager

Big Red Barn

It was from:

Rachel Platt

Telephone Answering Specialist

Little White House

This is what was in the envelope:

* * * * *

And finally...

One day a million years ago I was in the car with my best friend from high school.

We were listening to The Dance by Garth Brooks.

The chorus started playing and Garth said, "I'da missed the dance..." or something like that.

Kim, my friend, sighed and said, "Poor Ida."

I looked at her and said, "What?"

"You heard him...Ida missed the dance. I wonder why she missed it."

Nearly 17 years later and whenever I hear that song I think 'Poor Ida.'

It came one the radio the other day and I texted Kim. All the text said was "Poor Ida."

I got a big LOL in response.

Let It Be Said...Let It Be Written

The guys I work with think I'm lazy.

It may have something to do with the fact that I don't come in until 10:00 or 10:30 on most days.

Give me a break guys. Planning a wedding is hard work and I don't get enough sleep!

(Actually planning a wedding isn't that hard, but I still don't get enough sleep.)

This morning I told they guys I work with that starting next week I was going to be to work by 9:00 every morning.

And that by March 1st I would be to work by 8:30 every morning. And that by April 1st I would be to work by 8:00 every morning.

Travis said to Ben, "You writing this down?"

Hey pains of my life, consider it written down...in stone.

Post It Note Tuesday

Thanks To...

Michelle, our very talented photographer, we have these:

This Week In Review (from my journals)

1986 (I was 11)

"Monday I got a note from a boy that said 'I like you a lot! Do you like me?' His name is Brandon. That night he called me and he asked me lots of questions. I really like him but dad says I can't have a boyfriend."

1989

"I was watching Oliver tonight and guess who Oliver reminded me of - you guessed it - Brandon. I still really like him but nobody knows I do.

1991

"My wisdom teeth are growing in and they are killing me!"

1997 - in Queens, New York

"...last night Fawcett and I were sitting in Springfield Park - we were taking a break. A guy walked past with his dog and stopped to ask us what we were doing. We told him we were enjoying some peace and quiet. He said that we should probably enjoy it somewhere else, on account of a dead body being found there the day before."

1999

"JaLae (Mr. Thompson and Me) and I had a really good talk tonight. She's an incredible person and I am so amazed at her strength!"

2002 - in Mexico

Monday - "When I got up to shower I had an adventure. The water heater is electric and twice in my 5 minute shower the fuse blew and I was left in darkness with cold water. Luckily my squeals let someone know to switch the breaker back on!

Thursday - "In this village of Tamaula there is no plumbing or electricity. Our options for a bano (bathroom) are the fields, the latrine at the school, and a little bucket we use at night when we can't go outside because of the coyotes."

2006

"I'm sitting here on the couch at Rika's house in Las Vegas. Fawcett and I flew down yesterday to visit for the weekend and we are so happy to be here! ... My heart broke this week and I think it may take a while to recover. I don't want to write about what happened right now...maybe later. Let me write a line from a book I just read. In a way it expresses some of what I feel:

'There's a kind of holiness to love, requited or not, and those people who don't receive it with gratitude are arrogant beyond saving.' " -Marisa de los Santos

2010

Last night for dinner I had a bowl of Fruit Loops and guacamole and chips. Sounds good doesn't it? There's a good chance my dad is going to kill me for harassing him as much as I do. Last night I called him to suggest a medication I saw on TV but before I could even talk to him I was laughing so hard I was crying.

"Dad, I want to ..."

"Don't do it Noelle...don't say it."

And then I laughed some more... "But Dad, I think this medicine I saw will really help."

He stifled a laugh before he said, "Noelle, I'm serious...don't finish this conversation."

"The medication is called..."

"Boa noite Noelle" (which is Portuguese for good night) and then he hung up on me.

I laughed for five more minutes.

And finally...

If you're bored (Amber this is for you!) go to http://www.utahcakes.com/ and click on wedding cakes. Then click on butter cream cakes and look at the fifth cake. What do you think?

This Isn't My Dress

But this is me...

In a dress.

I think I was 17 or 18 years old.

My dress doesn't look anything like this dress.

And I can guarantee my veil won't be so...poofy...is that a word?

I tried on my dress again yesterday.

The seamstress has to do one more thing and it will be ready to go.

Stay tuned...

* * * * *

The REAL Letter From The War

Another Letter From the War

Belgium
January 29, 1945

My dearest Vic,

I received your very nice letter and pictures in folder yesterday. Gee, I was sure glad to get them! You look better to me in that picture than ever, if that's possible! It is just the right size to fit in my shirt pocket and I am glad! That makes it so I can keep it with me always.

As for the news about Royal I. and Asceal O. I hadn't heard about it. Most of the letters I have received lately have been about 6 weeks old. This one of your really made good time

We are having more snow now and real cold weather. I imagine you are having about the same back there. I do know one thing. I would much rather spend the cold weather there with you, yes any kind of weather! I think I miss you as much as you do me. It seems to be unanimous.

I received a short letter from Forrest yesterday also, it was written Dec. 23 and he sakd he was planning to visit me, thinking I was still in England. I sure would have like to have seen him. I notice he is Staff Sgt. now too. That is sure nice. He's a swell guy.

Well Vic, it's soon been four months since I last saw you. That seems quite a while doesn't it? I wonder how much longer it will be. I hope not too long. Some of these boys over here have been gone for years. Things sure seem to drag on in this war. I hope the Russians keep going, and maybe that will help matters out. The news over here sounds pretty good right now.

Thanks a lot for the pictures. I am surely glad for them!

I am getting along fine. Still working in the motor pool and plenty busy.

All my love to you,

Lyn

Alternate Reality

Once upon a time...last Friday night to be exact...my mom and I paid a visit to my cousin...who is temporarily residing in the county jail. It's not her first time there, and sadly, it probably won't be her last.

My mom had a mission to accomplish, and she didn't want to do it alone.

She had to let my cousin know why it was she no longer had custody of her daughter...because unfortunately she was so out of it at the time of her arrest that she couldn't remember the details.

We had to be there at 7pm - sharp. That's what the dispatcher told my mom.

We had a small glitch in the plans when my mom turned west and thought she was going south. After convincing her that we needed to turn around and go the other direction, we made it to the jail with a minute to spare.

We walked into a very crowded waiting room and before we took two steps inside the door the woman at the desk said,

"Who are you here to see?"

We told her.

"You were supposed to be here 15 minutes ago."

My mom, who is the epitome of sweet and kind said,

"I'm sorry. No one told me that."

"You needed to be here 15 minutes ago," the woman said again.

As we all know, I'm not always the epitome of sweet and kind and so I said,

"We heard you the first time but we didn't get the memo."

"Next time be here early."

To which I responded,

"Trust me, there won't be a next time."

And at that point I think the lady caught on. Oh...if I talk to her with a tone she will talk to me with a tone right back.

After that she was nicer. (In all fairness, I'm sure she has a high stress job, and she's entitled to a tone once in a while...as long as it's not directed towards my mom.)

She took our ID, gave us a pass, and told us what door to go through, and which hall to walk down.

I promised my mom that in the future I would keep my mouth shut.

Sometimes being put in jail can be a good thing, and for my cousin that is the case.

In jail she's sober, and clean, and can think clearly...and she's as kind as they come...and we love her.

It's really like on TV. You have to talk on a phone and there is a thick piece of glass that separates you from the inmate. It's kind of sad.

Because there is only one phone and I couldn't hear both sides of the conversation my mind wandered and settled on the conversation of the family next to us.

A mom, dad, and sister were there to visit their daughter/sister who was in jail. While the sister and the dad talked to the other sister, the mom sat in the cubicle next to them talking to another girl. It was clear they were talking for the first time.

I always love to try and figure out the dynamics and relationships between people and this time was no exception. I watched the mom and dad switch places, and now the dad was talking to the girl he had never met before.

Before too long I realized that the daughter was using this 1/2 hour of visitation to introduce her family to her one true love. At one point the mom said, "If both of you hadn't have

been thrown in jail you would never have met."

Touching story...or something.

I couldn't listen any more after that because it was my turn to talk to my cousin.

She said how hard it was to be in jail and I said, "At least it keeps you out of trouble." Thankfully she laughed. She knows me...she knows I love her but not the choices she makes.

When we were getting ready to leave, the family next to us was planning a family reunion for when the love birds got out. My cousin begged us to come again this week.

We made a stop at the booking office to get something and while we were there a couple came in and had to pay $2700.00 to bail their son out of jail.

They were NOT happy.

As we walked out the door I put my arm around my mom and said, "It could be worse. Your kids aren't so bad."

She agreed.

A Bridal Shower Re-Cap

I just ran into a really creepy guy at the fabric store. Isn't there some kind of unspoken rule that says creepy guys and fabric stores don't belong together? If there's not there should be. From the moment I walked in until I left 10 minutes later he stared at me. The. Whole. Time. He was sitting in a chair with a coat and scarf on...and he just stared. Finally when I was at the counter checking out he said to me, "You have really pretty hair." I thanked him and made a quick escape.

But that was not the point of this post.

I've spent the last day and a half wondering if my sister-in-law Rachel loves me or hates me. Remember when I told you she was in charge of the game at my bridal shower? Let me show you a picture and then you can be the judge:

(go here for the reason behind this game)

See...I'll bet you're confused too. Does she hate me or love me? She made me sign the contract BEFORE I knew what the game was. I should have known better than to sign it...but there were about 60 women sitting there watching me, and I really had no choice.

It was like this: The guests had to answer questions about me, and I had to guess as to who said what. The circled locations (where I have to kiss Jason) are how many answers I got wrong...Jason's going to LOVE this!

As far as bridal showers go, the one my aunts hosted for me was lovely! We had aunts and cousins from all sides of the family (mine and Jason's) and some good friends came too, to add to the fun!

One of the highlights for me was meeting Tiffany...you who have been around a while know Tiffany as one of my dearest blog friends. I LOVE that you came Tiffany and I hope you didn't mind when I called you Tiff!

So...after unloading all of my gifts I'm just wondering...anyone need some salt? I have enough to last for 12 years! (It was a kitchen/pantry shower.)

I have a great family, and Jason does too...I feel incredibly blessed! (Except for the part about my sister-in-law...she and I are going to have to have a heart to heart.)

I'll go easy on her...she just had knee surgery.