It's Finished!

My dear, sweet husband is finally done with his classes at school. By Friday we should know whether or not he graduated and what his final grades were, though we're pretty sure he got A's and will definitely be graduating. It's finished! Two years of non-stop school is over. Discussions, assignments, papers, projects, late nights doing homework, high stress when the computer freaks out, racing to the computer after work to keep working on homework is finally over! Let's all take a moment to shout HOORAY at the top of our lungs for him!

Everybody now:

HOORAY!!!!

He's so happy. I'm so happy. It's going to be nice to have the time to spend on other projects that had to be set aside while this took precedence. It's over. ~sigh~ I'm so glad.

On a separate note, our garden is not looking so great any more. It has been overrun by a swarm of grasshoppers that seemed determined to eat everything. They ate our marigolds first (they really had no chance). I miss seeing that pop of orange sticking out from all the green in our garden. They then took out the potatoes (our lovely potato plants!), the carrots and the onions (they were eaten down to the ground). Now they have attacked my brothers broccoli and our bush beans. They have tried to take out the sunflowers, and I'll admit they aren't looking so good, but they are strong and keep growing. They keep putting forth the flower heads and keep trying to survive. Our squash, zucchini, tomatoes, pickles, corn, watermelon, horseradish, and pole beans are still hanging in there, but any hope we had of having a grand crop is kind of gone. We have big plans for next year, though. Big plans.

Here are some pictures of the garden we took last week (the 16th of July). We went out to the garden a couple of days ago and the bush beans were practically gone. They don't look as good as the picture below looks.

I wonder what the garden is going to look like this week. I hope they don't start eating our tomatoes.

Garden update

James and I have been driving up to the garden every week for the past two months. It has been quite therapeutic and relaxing, and we find ourselves looking forward to it more and more. It's been wonderful to spend time with each other as we drive out there wondering and dreaming about what our garden looks like, and then being so surprised at how big and beautiful it looks when we actually get there. The drive is nice; long stretches of roads with newly growing farmland on both sides mixed in with small towns that force you to slow down. It's nice. Here's the latest picture of our garden from Saturday. For comparison I've included a picture from the garden from the beginning of June. Isn't is awesome?!

Our garden on June 4th. Ours are the three rows in the middle of the picture by the sign.

Our garden on July 2nd. Look how much our garden has grown (and the weeds from the neighbors!)

The sunflowers are almost up to my waist now, and one of them has a flower forming. They are Mammoth Gray Stripe Sunflowers and we hope to get a bunch of sunflower seeds from them. If not, well at least they'll keep the birds and insects from bothering our other plants. We also have zucchini growing. There were at least seven flowers and some actual plants, but whether or not they form into zucchini is yet to be seen. We'll know better next week. Our potato plants are doing awesome, so are our carrots and onions. And we were so excited to see that one of James' pumpkin plants had survived whatever was trying to eat it in the first place! Woo-hoo! We got a couple of transplants last week, and we planted them out next to the other pumpkin plant to keep him company. The pole beans and Sweet Crimson watermelon is showing, too, and I really hope they take off because I want to taste some homegrown watermelon. :)

For some reason, the first ten feet of our garden does not like to grow anything. First we planted strawberries and they didn't grow, so we pulled them after a while. Then we planted cauliflower, but we may have been too late for those to take off. After a while we dug up the ground and put marigolds on the first and third rows and planted pepper seeds in the middle. The peppers are supposed to take between 10 and 20 days to emerge, but so far there has been nothing and it's been over 35 days and nothing has come up. I don't think they are going to grow either. So next week we plan on digging up the middle row and planting a different kind of watermelon. We are only going to plant two seeds together and then thin it down to one plant after the seedlings pop up. There just isn't enough room otherwise. Hopefully that will grow there. It could be that there's too much water in that area and nothing is growing, so I think the watermelon plant would do just fine there. However, I'm not sure that's what it is since the marigolds are doing really well. At first we thought they weren't going to survive, but they have come back really strong. I'm not sure why nothing is growing in the first ten feet, but I'm glad everything else is doing well.

I hope hearing about our garden isn't boring you all. We are just so excited about it. We are first time gardeners, so those of you who have planted gardens before might understand our excitement at our first real gardening experience. I'm not sure if the novelty will wear off after a few years or not. I kind of hope it doesn't because there's just something very cool to me about throwing a tiny seed into a bare patch of dirt and watching it grow into some of the most beautiful plants and tasty vegetables (and fruit) I have ever seen or tasted.

Maybe Not

I'd like to think that I was a lover of all God's creatures; that seeing them in their natural habitat makes me smile and wonder at their complex natures. But then I open up the blinds in my apartment and watch all those creatures fly and flit about on my balcony and my thinking changes drastically. It takes me a little bit to realize that maybe I never was a lover of all of God's creatures but only the soft and cute ones, and maybe the big and powerful ones too. But bugs? Well, bugs are another matter all together.

My balcony seems to be a melting pot of bug species; a sort of "Insectopia", if you will. There some flowers and some freshly sprouted green herbs for them to use. There's also moist soil and maybe a puddle of water that they can play in. As if that's not enough, there are thousands, if not millions, of tiny little spaces just big enough for them to squeeze into. It's awe-inspiring to watch a wasp wiggle itself underneath a crack next to the dryer vent that is invisible to the naked eye. It's mesmerizing to see spiders no bigger than the top of a nail head weave the most intricate webs around the most open of areas. It's addicting to follow the flight pattern of birds, butterflies, and teeny tiny gnats.

True, I can do all this from the relative safety of my apartment behind a thick sliding glass door, but when a ginormous wasp hurls itself into the window over and over again, I can't help but shudder. These wasps look like they drag their bodies around with their little wings and appear top heavy. Today I found out that these are not your ordinary yellow jacket wasps. These are actually Colorado Mud Daubers. (Read more about them HERE). They rarely sting people, and when they do it is more than likely due to being handled or trapped next to the body accidentally. They form cylindrical nests and stuff it to the max with different types of spiders, orb weavers and crab spiders being their first choice. They are solitary wasps, and after a long days' work they usually retire to nearby vegetation to rest. This explains why they are found in the tree next to my apartment (I found them last year and found them again this year) and why they look like they are ready to topple over when they fly (really elongated bodies). So, even though I don't like bugs (especially the flying ones), it's good that I was able to do some research on these ones to see that they are good because they should get rid of the two spiders I saw hanging off the balcony today, and they more than likely won't sting me when I'm out watering my plants in the morning. I'm still not a fan of bugs, but I guess these guys can stay.

A Tribute to My Father - Day Seven

Ah, dad. My dad. The greatest man I know. I think this quote from Thomas. S. Monson really sums it up nicely:

"Let us reflect gratitude for our fathers. Father . . . is ever willing to sacrifice his own comfort for that of his children. Daily he toils to provide the necessities of life, never complaining, ever concerned for the well-being of his family. This love for (his) children, this desire to see them well and happy, is a constant in a time of change."

It all comes down to this:

No matter where I am I know my dad will be there for me.
No matter what happens I know my dad will listen to me.
No matter what sort of situations may occur I know my dad loves me.

And that makes all the difference. I love you, dad! Happy Father's Day!!

A Tribute to My Father - Day Six

Whenever I went anywhere as a young teenager my dad would make sure I didn't leave the house without handing me a couple of quarters and making sure I put them in my shoe. He said, "No matter where you are tonight, no matter what you do; if you get into a situation where you need someone to come and pick you up, you call me and I will be there. I don't care what time it is or what the circumstance is. I will be there." I walked around with quarters in my shoe for a long time, and it was a constant reminder that no matter what, my dad would come and get me. I never did use the quarters, but it was nice to know they were there should I have needed them.

After graduation I went with a few friends of mine for a fun filled weekend of partying. My family was at the ceremony, and then they left to go back home. I hung out at the school for a little while with my friends, then went back home to change. To my surprise there was an envelope sitting on top of the television that had my name on it. I could tell right away it was my dad's handwriting. I opened up the envelope and found a note with $20.00 inside. It said, "Have a fun night. Love, Dad" It really meant a lot to me because I knew how much $20.00 meant to our family, and to him. It was so sweet that he would sacrifice for me to have some spending money.

My dad used to tease me when I was little that I talked so fast he could hardly understand me. He told me I talked like the man on the Micro Machine commercials. Here's an example for those of you who have no idea what I am talking about:



I remember once we had moved from Las Vegas to Southern California and my dad had to go back to tie up some loose ends. He decided to take me along on the trip. Just me! I was so excited. We left so early in the morning and I didn't get my clothes ready the day before so we were late in starting out. I think I was in second or third grade so I ended up grabbing the closest clothes I could find because I didn't want my dad to change his mind and leave me behind. I realized the next day that I grabbed an old pair of jeans that didn't fit me anymore and so I had to walk around with tight pants on that wouldn't button. I think I read practically every sign from California to Las Vegas and I must have told a thousand stories to my dad during that time. He had to tell me quite a few times to slow down and I'm sure eventually he told me it was time to be quiet. The drive was probably about four or five hours, but that's a long time to be in the car with a little girl spurting out her every last story and dream and hope just in order to keep talking to her dad. To this day I still enjoy talking with him. We have a lot in common and I greatly enjoy his company, though I don't talk nearly as fast anymore. :)

A Tribute to My Father - Day Five

My dad is an honest, hard working man. I know there must have been times when he could have cheated on something, told a small lie, or done something sneaky to get ahead and get more money for his family, but he never did. My dad had a lot of mouths to feed, and some of the jobs he had weren't what others could call glamorous, but he never sat idly by while his family struggled. Whenever we needed something, and I mean the true meaning of "needed", he always did his best to make sure we had it. Sometimes my dad had to work odd hours and difficult schedules, but I always remember my dad being there at home, and for that I am so grateful to him.

My dad is also very selfless. He used to (and still does) drive us EVERYWHERE, and sometimes that would require three or four trips, but my dad did it. I remember once we had only a small two door hatchback Honda to get us around in. For the most part it worked just fine for my dad to get to and from work and run errands and such. However, whenever someone needed to go somewhere, it was more often than not the case that there were several others that needed to go as well, so my dad would take the first load then come back and take a second load to a different place and then come back and take a third load to somewhere else altogether. And just when he thought he could take a little break it was time to go start picking everyone up. Looking back now I just don't know how that man ever got any rest. If I have never said it before, dad, thank you so much for being so selfless and taking me to where ever I needed to go.

My dad is a spiritual man, as well. He taught us the gospel, and taught us to pray and serve in the church. I remember a few times when he taught my Sunday School class and my seminary class. Most people would have been embarrassed that their fathers were teaching, but I loved his lessons. He liked to go on these little tangents and he would always get so excited, but then he realized that some of the stuff he was getting excited about was a little over our heads and he would go back to the lesson. It is great to see him get that twinkle in his eye when he speaks of spiritual matters. Church and religion were serious matters, but my dad knew how to incorporate a little fun, too. I remember when I was getting ready to be baptized when I was eight my toe stuck out of the water, so we had to do it again. I remember looking at my dad and whispering "Dad? Can you step on my toe so it won't come out again?" He just smiled and said sure. He did it, too. You ask my dad to do something like that and, well, let's just say you don't have to ask him twice. He was always willing to teach a lesson in church, give a talk, serve the members, and help those in need. He still is, and I love that example. He has sacrificed so much for our family but you would never hear that from him because he is so humble. I am so grateful for everything he has done for us. I love you, dad!

A Tribute to My Father - Day Four

My dad is sarcastic and loves to joke around. I think I got my sense of humor from him as well because it is so easy to joke around with my dad. Sometimes I can tell just by looking at him what he is about to say. Those are great times.

When I was a kid we used to try and have a family activity each Monday night. It was called Family Home Evening, and we would read a scripture, have a prayer, sing a song, have a short spiritual lesson, then an activity and lastly we would have dessert. It always started out well enough, but inevitably somewhere someone would make some sort of joke which would cause my dad to laugh and then everyone else would burst out laughing and the jokes would start flying. I think we all figured that if my dad was laughing then it was truly funny and nothing else really mattered. Well, as you can guess it almost always ended with someone upset and then the spirit of Family Home Evening would pretty much be destroyed and some of us would get in trouble. But I thought it was worth it if it got my dad laughing. He has a good laugh.

In church he liked to say he would help hold up the hymn book so both of us could read the words and sing. Without fail he would shake the book to make it hard to read the words. Or, it would be in the middle of the hymn and he would suddenly drop his side of the book backward to where you had to lunge forward to keep it from crashing into the person in front of you. He always got the biggest kick out of doing that, and I must say I've done that very same thing to my husband a few times in church myself.

When I was younger, we had this yellow Volkswagen bus that I hated with a passion. I was always worried about cars breaking down and getting in an accident. I don't know why I always worried so much about this since I wasn't in my first accident until I was 15, but that's beside the point. My dad loved that bus. When I was a young kid my sister and I used to pretend we were the Dukes of Hazard and we would jump through the windows to get into the bus. My dad didn't like us doing that, but we thought it was awesome. He was always working on our cars and was very good at fixing problems with them. One time I remember that the clutch broke as we were driving down the road. My dad stopped, grabbed some rope from the back of the bus and somehow tied up the clutch so he could make it work enough to get us back home. I will never forget seeing the road whiz by through the hole in the bottom of the floor where the clutch was and praying to God that the rope wouldn't burst into flames or break and we would get home safe. I still remember my dad with the biggest smile on his face, not bothered by the situation at all.

My dad loved scaring the crap out of us, too, especially in the bus. We used to live up in the mountains of Southern California and there was this really high and long hill we had to travel down to get into the main part of the city. Whenever we had to go anywhere at night, we would all load up into the bus and my dad would start to drive down the mountain. Once he got to the road, one of his favorite things to do was turn off the headlights, floor it down the road, and scream a blood curdling scream at the top of his lungs as we careened down the road. It was pitch black outside, the bus was loaded with all the kids and my parents, and we were flying down this super tall road at top speed. Of course we all screamed for our lives! Sheer panic are the only words I can think of to describe those times. We were little kids, too, and there were practically a million of us. Can you imagine, just for a second, what a Volkswagen bus full of small kids screaming for their very lives sounded like? The bus was almost gutted out on the inside, so there wasn't any padding to insulate the screams from all our little lungs. This joke by my father would ALWAYS end up with at least half of us crying, some laughing hysterically, and my mother being vehemently angry with my father. This is a memory I will never forget. Many years later the bus finally died. I know my dad misses it, but I was so happy to see it go. What prompts my dad to do stuff like that I may never know, but I can assure you that growing up was both fun and petrifying. :) I love you, dad!