Tell You [a] Little Story

Luna the rat is dead. Cause of death: starvation/dehydration. Isn't that awful? It's awful. We didn't feed her. More accurately, the kids didn't feed her and no one reminded them to feed her. The dream around these parts is that at some point my kids won't need constant reminders (nagging) to do responsible things. Does that just magically happen at some point? Our oldest is showing signs of turning that corner. He wakes up on his own in the dark, cold basement and starts getting ready for school while I yet slumber. That's a biggie. But by and large, if I don't remind/ask/nag/tell, bad things happen: kids go to school with bad breath, school reports get turned in late if at all, Grandma's piano teaching efforts are in vain, rats die. Steve is firmly in the low intervention parenting camp that advocates Lighten Up What's the Worst That Can Happen So They Spent Three Hours on the Computer Big Deal. He does step in to assist with homework because

This was part of a post on Provo's mayor's blog advertising a community health fair. Can you spot the irony?

Go where you're invited. Steve doesn't believe in this life philosophy, so I've become lax, but I think it's a good rule. This last Saturday I was invited to two events, each of which I did not have much interest in attending, so I didn't go to either. On Sunday I learned that both hosts had had low attendance and felt bad about it and it made me feel horrible. When I was about 8 my mom had a Tupperware party and no one came and she was hurt; even though it was a dumb Tupperware party, she took it personally. So even when I get invited to dumb jewelry parties,  I think it's a good idea to make an effort to show up because people are more important than me not being slightly inconvenienced.  Pay attention to the things you think about while falling asleep/when you wake up for whatever reason/first thing in the morning.  Your (my) brain has usually had a chance to filter out the unimportant stuff and whatever is left often provides clarity and new perspective. T

I was 21 before I owned a car (although I'd crashed a couple already - sorry, dad). A Chrysler Cirrus and Stephen came as a package deal. One was rather lemony, the other, pure brilliance. He called her Cheryl, she had big child-bearing hips, er, a wide back end, and she broke down on the 14 on our way down to Arizona to get married. We got towed to Cedar City where we stayed with strangers and I sent Steve off to the mechanic's with the admonition to "be assertive," presumably to get them to hurry up on our repairs so we could get to the altar on time. It ticked him off. Though she was our first car and we were grateful to have her, nary a tear was shed when we very cheaply traded her in for bigger and better things, I think 5 years later. Cheryl was red. Steve's grandparents died while we were in Tucson for law school. We inherited their ten year old, massively rusted out Chevy Lumina, Euro edition. Did I mention the rust? It was rusty. It had sat in a snowy C

We rode a cable car to church. Steve and I are pretty bad at photographing and documenting our collective life. Well, I take that back: he keeps a fairly faithful journal, so I'm pretty bad at it. We're both bad at taking pictures and his stress level rises whenever I suggest he should be good at that, because who has time to take on one more hobby? Point is, though, we have a good life together. We love each other. Our kids are pretty cute and, in spite of all their wild monkeyness, they're good kids and good people. We spent all of last week in San Francisco, which is such a magical city. I mean, it totally looks like a magical, fairy tale city when you come in across the Bay Bridge, with its hilly, tree-y skyline. People there are really good at parallel parking and they have charming neighborhoods, awesome food, and everyone is nice, even though there are cheap souvenirs and double-decker tour buses every which way. I probably wouldn't be very nice if I lived

My cute sister put this together of all the grandkids wishing Papa a happy birthday. Yup, 64. But our dad is cooler than Paul McCartney. Untitled from Abby Sharp on Vimeo .

My handsome and brilliant husband has started a blog , yo.

I love to travel. I crave change and newness and trying new things. I believe LDS temples are among the holiest of places on this earth. I enjoy setting concrete goals that I can work toward systematically or incrementally. For these reasons, I want to visit all the operating temples on the planet. There are 134 currently in operation. Here are the ones I've been inside. St. George Utah Logan Utah Manti Utah Salt Lake Cardston Alberta Mesa Arizona Los Angeles California Oakland California Ogden Utah Provo Utah Jordan River Utah Boise Idaho Denver Colorado Portland Oregon Las Vegas Nevada San Diego California Bountiful Utah Mount Timpanogos Utah Vernal Utah Albuquerque New Mexico Snowflake Arizona Redlands California Manhattan New York Newport Beach California Rexburg Idaho Draper Utah Oquirrh Mountain Utah While I don't count these toward my goal, I also find this list interesting. It is temples I have seen in person and/or traveled to the city

Christian Nielson , a man who knows a thing or two about being recognized, recognizes Aaron on the slopes. Thanks for the video, Christian!

Steve tells me I need to blog again so as to push down my pathetic post from weeks ago. So this is what I'm here to say: Norah named her plastic horse "Rahita Rahita Climb Down Your Hair". It's the best horse's name of all time, if you ask me.

Today I was mean and grumpy and irritable and fed-up (when I wasn't being long-suffering, encouraging, patient, and attentive, because let's be honest, there was some of that, too) and I kept thinking about what Diana used to say all the time to her sister Eliza when they were growing up: "I love you, but I don't like you." Mostly directed (but not spoken aloud) to my kids. Here's hoping for a new week filled with liking my cheerful, non-teething, obedient, loving, neat and responsible children!

I'm just now rolling over the 401(k) from Steve's last job to our current retirement plan. We paid tithing on the money we contributed, but obviously not on the money contributed by the firm or any interest that accrued. The same is true for the current retirement plan: tithing paid on money we put in, but not on matching funds or interest. So now that we're combining the plans, it just seems like it's getting super complicated. When we're retired and withdrawing this money, how will we pay tithing? Should I:  keep track of the dollar amount that we've paid tithing on already....all the way until we're 65 and living on this money? (Where will I keep this information that I will be sure to find it in 30 years??) Then I could write one big tithing check on interest and matching funds, and then an annual check on additional interest. just give up on trying to keep track, switch tithing to net instead of gross, and pay tithing on everything when we pull i

If any of you are like me in any of these ways: loves presents loves packages in the mail admires classy presentation of said presents and packages likes using nice beauty products but spends almost zero time researching them so doesn't know what to buy appreciates advice about makeup application or hair or skin care loves to try new products, as in, gets really really bored using the same things all the time likes luxurious stuff likes to feel pretty would just as soon other people pick out cosmetics/beauty products for you likes to try something out before committing large amounts of money THEN, perhaps you would enjoy this beauty product subscription service I've found. It is in my top 5 of favorite things. I love it mucho mucho. It's called Birchbox (birchbox.com). You sign up for however many months you want, and for $10/month, they send a darling little box full of high-end beauty samples. Sometimes you can use a sample 4 or 5 times, sometimes it will

The thing about being a sports fan is that ultimately, your team will lose and it will be heartbreaking and a big downer. Even if they have a good season, they're probably not going to win the championship, because only one team can win the championship and probability dictates that it won't be your team. So you'll end the season depressed. BUT. Sometimes your team will win (hopefully). And every once in a while your team will win in a big way, in an important game. In a historic game . And if you're extra lucky you'll be there to see it all go down. Oh man. That will be the best. You will love that so much. It will be the biggest thrill of your entire winter, maybe your year. Undoubtedly your non-sports fan spouse will even find it invigorating and scream and yell and laugh and cheer and comment at your foresight to get $5 tickets before the game sold out. That's the best thing about being a sports fan.

Dinner tonight at our house with Ruth and Rachel and their families. I love my friends and the interesting people they are. Ruth: foreign service officer, stopping in Utah in between posts in Dominican republic and sweden, nurse, mother of 4, compassionate, a thinker, brilliant. Rachel: small business owner , makes jewelry, lover of all things vintage, eclectic and bright and fun home decor, loving mother of 3, a complete joy to be around, mismatched colors and patterns in her clothing choices like nobody's business with fabulous fashionable results, generous and kind. I love that I get to have such lovely and fun and interesting people as friends.

'Thas (which should be a word) become a tradition in our family to open as the last gift on Christmas the destination for the following year's main family vacation. 2009 destination: Oahu 2010 destination: Disneyland and 2011 destination: San Francisco, with Nana and Papa to accompany We will drive and perhaps take our time getting there. Neither Steve nor I have driven west on I-80 and we plan to see Reno, and of course have the obligatory car breakdown in Winnemucca. (Isn't that required? Other types of breakdowns, i.e. emotional or mental, optional.) Google Map's 12 hours and 28 minutes + bathroom stops + cleaning up vomit stops + lengthy restaurant stops + where's the nearest Redbox stops will surely = 16 hours on the road (not counting overnight stay and aforementioned obligatory car repairs). We will return home to Provo, possibly host a 4th of July party (you're invited if we do), catch up on life, then get back in the car and drive to the Oregon

makes a sharp knife.