Jean Kate Glamor

Could you give this baby a bazillion kisses? She is, of course, modeling a bit of Jean Kate glamor. What would Miss V. say? Her baby radar would go berserk, off the charts, I'm sure.

Thanks Katherine for letting me post her picture. She's perfect.

The first picture is of clips I made for a famous lady in New York. She lives in Manhattan, and her apartment overlooks Central Park. I'm totally jeal. (in a non-envying sort of way).

MJ

Never cut your dog's hair when you're mourning the loss of your girlhood idol, Michael Jackson. Just look at all those jiggy-jaggy cuts. Poor thing.

Now, MJ is a man whom I've adored for many years. I had a picture of him on my 3rd grade reading folder, wearing that baby yellow vest, with his perfectly styled Jheri curl. "Human Nature" was written across the top. I kissed that picture more than I care to share.

My devotion runs deep. I used to sing "Ben" to my very own rat. (Sick, I know. FYI: I no longer enjoy rodents.) I moon walked. I asked mi madre to buy me a sparkly, white glove (I skipped the red "Beat It" jacket). I was glued to the news when I heard M.J.'s Jheri curl caught fire, while he was shooting the Pepsi commercial.

The only way I can comfort myself in these dark and dire times (besides sipping a diet Dr. Pepper, which I've been sober from for three days straight) is DANCE! Here's a video of me and my homegurl shakin' it like a Polaroid picture to "Beat It." Press play if you dare.

MJ

+
ME=TLA

P.S. I totally messed up. That's why my homegurl is shooting me with looks of disgust throughout the entire video (I'll never be cool enough for her. Never.)

The Church is still true.

Word to mi Padre

This is so late! But I just have to say: I'm crazy about you, Padre! I've been thinking about you all day. While I was mopping my floors (on the Sabbath, so shoot me), I remembered that you were the one who taught me how to dry the floors, using a towel. You never just let the floors air dry. You always towel dry, right, Padre? Thanks to your mopping skills, I now have, for the moment, the cleanest floors on the block.

I think about you every time I listen to Barbara Streisand, Johnny Mathis, Frank Sinatra, and Glenn Miller. I think about you every time I call my littlest son's name: Edward. When I read my Patriarchal blessing, I'm reminded of how lucky I am to have you as a father. When I call you, blubbering my brains out about how much I think I stink (not in a b.o. sort of way), you always say, "You're a real winner, Katy." Remember how you had to tell me that a few months ago? What would I do without you?

Happy Father's Day.

Project Bear Hugs

I went to the LDS Humanitarin Center to find a project for our Young Women. A sweet sister, named Verna, suggested that we make the above pictured bears. "What will you do with the completed bears." I asked. "We'll send them to orphanages in Romania," she said, while squeezing my arm for good measure. She handed me the bear pattern and patted my back, "Good luck!"

Each girl hand-stitched a face on her bear. A few girls embroidered hearts on the bears' rehinds. "Love" is stitched on the leg of another bear. They're adorable and unique, but someone said, "They look like orphaned bears. That will only make the orphans feel more like orphans."

The girls attached hope for a better life with each stitch. The orphans will feel that love, and they will love the bears, imperfections and all.

Spiritual Healing

I love this website. I listen to it while I'm working in the kitchen. The talks fill our home with the Spirit (mixed with intermittent fighting and screaming) and lull mi Amor and my littlest to sleep. There's something soothing (boring) about that conference talk voice.

I'm listening to President Eyring. He's one of my all time favorites. I cry (a good kind) every time I listen to him.

Neverending Story

It will never end!

And I'm fine with that.

Summer Salad

I made this pasta salad for a luncheon I recently attended. It was delicious, so I thought I'd share:

1/4 cup purple onion

1/2 cup Calamata olives

1/2 cup grape tomatoes

1/2 cup artichoke hearts (the canned kind)

1/2 cup green pepper

4 leaves of fresh basil, chopped

2 cloves of FRESH garlic, chopped

3/4 cup 3 cheese blend: Parmesan, Asiago, and Romano

1 Boar's Head salami roll, sliced into bite sized pieces (You can sub. mozz cheese and salami, if your local market doesn't carry this Boar's Head product.)

1 cup Italian Dressing, not Kraft, only Girard's

1 box of pasta. I only made 3/4th of the box. Make the entire box.

Prepare pasta according to package directions. Set aside to cool. Prepare all other ingredients and pour them over the cooked pasta. Add the Italian dressing, about 3/4th of the bottle. Mix. Add salt and pepper to taste. Add additional ingredients if the pasta salad tastes like garbage. We'll hope for the best. Chill for 45 min. before serving.

Solid Gold

I've watched every episode of Solid Gold. For years I've dreamed of becoming like the girl at the bottom of the picture (She was always my favorite.) "What does a gorgeous girl like that do with all that hair when she's not dancing?" I would ask myself that question while I made up dances for my pretend Solid Gold dance auditions. I even made a black yarn wig-ish hair piece for authenticity's sake. Of course, I was the only one auditioning, and I always made the team.

I've never taken a real dance class. I don't know the first thing about sashays, pirouettes, or split leaps. My best friend, while growing up, was a dancer, a really good dancer, and I've envied her talent for years. I've decided that the only way I can obliterate my gnawing envy is to live through my daughter. It's a sick confession, I know. What I lack, she'll make up, twentyfold.

She actually loves to dance. I tell mi Amor that we need dance, she and I.

"Dance makes our lives better," I tell him.

"Do you love dance or does she?" He asks.

"We both crave it," I tell him.

He rolls his eyes knowing that I'm really just a sick-in-the-head Stage Mom.

Last night my homgurl danced her recital brains out. I was so proud of her that my eyes went misty. After the show, her dance teacher approached me, extending to her an invitation to tryout for their Company team. "Yes, yes, I'll do it...I mean, she'll do it," I said, while clapping my hands and running in place. Her barely adult-aged dance teacher then gave me a much needed dose of mental telepathy: We don't have room for near forty-year-old women on our team. Start living your own dreams. I got her message loud and clear.

P.S. I'm going to bed right now, but I just shoveled a handful of brownies into my mouth. I'm not even going to brush my teeth.

T-Shirt Blanket

When I graduated from high school, mi madre's friend, Sister Haun, made for me a blanket out of my high school T-shirts. It's better than any blanket on earth (really). It's soft, weathered and worn, and filled with memories from my glory days.

I like my blanket so much that I thought it would be appropriate to pass on Sister Haun's generosity. (She's an absolute gem.) When the Young Women in our ward turn sixteen, we make them a blanket. We have an assembly line: one person cuts and sews the top, one person sews and ties the backside. Here's what you'll need if you want to make someone in your life feel like a million bucks!

1. Cut out twenty five 11.5 x 11.5 inch squares )13 T-shirts, using their fronts and backs. I use cardboard as my 11.5 x 11.5 pattern piece.

2. Lay out the T-shirts in 5 rows of 5.

3. Sew individual rows, left to right

4. Sew together each row, working from the top of the blanket to the bottom.

5. Take 2 yards of any fabric (we use satin) and cut it to match the length and width of the assembled T-shirt layer.

6. Take the 2 layers and put wrong sides together. Then put a thin layer of batting over the top of the two layers.

7. Sew all three layers together, leaving an 8 inch opening.

8. Flip wrong sides out through your 8 inch opening and tie with yarn.

9. Hand sew, using a blind stitch, the 8 inch opening.

These are coarse directions. Don't judge me for it! Here are additional directions.

Daily Affirmations

We should all write notes to ourselves like the one pictured below. She's an absolute gem. Go on, be just like my homegurl and write a note to yourself, saying all the wonderful things that you are or hope to become. Then when you feel dark and depressed, you can run over to your note and be reminded of your eminence. You are, and will always be, your biggest fan.

Pool Rules

I'm off to girls camp for the rest of the week. I'm bringing a family sized box of Gas-X. Last year my stomach became so bloated that the Beehives thought I was expecting. I told them I needed to give birth to something(not a baby), and that was none of their business.

Last year, at this same time, my homegurl made these "pool rules." I love how she uses her little brother as a rule-bearing pawn. Such a clever girl, kinda like su madre. I adore rule number one for many reasons. I'll keep my adoration of that rule to myself. I am a lady, after all.