It was the best of times, It was the worst of times...

Okay, the title is actually overdramatic, but it helps to illustrate what I've been feeling, in as much as it describes the push and pull of my life right now. It's been difficult to want to write because of this, but I think it is about time that I do because I feel discontected from people. I read your blogs at least once a week (even if I don't comment--except Jenny I still need your blog, could you email me again? I promise that I'll get it taken care of this time!), and I feel like I still know you, but that you don't know me because I'm not sharing--I miss my friends, but I love Hurricane and being with family. I want to know right now if Nate passed the bar so he can FINALLY be a lawyer of his own right, but he has a job working for a lawyer in town and got a paycheck with his law degree. (happy day!) I'm so happy that we have a wonderful place to live here with Cheryl, but I am patiently (I hope) waiting for a house of our own in Toquerville. To be happy about living in a place I love and with family I love, makes me feel guilty for not mourning the loss of such great friends more than I already do. To miss my friends makes me feel like I'm beytraying my family. To complain about the downside makes me feel like I am betraying those on the upside. So to sum up I've been really happy and really sad.........I know! Why don't all you Vegas people move to Hurricane?? We have the happy small town atmosphere, grass, desert, trees, mountains, fields, Zion National Park, Wal-Mart, the quilt shop, with St. George and the DI not too far away!

On a very happy note I'm actually looking foward to the fall here. I keep getting the sent of it on the wind. I loved fall in Vegas which actually equals "second spring", spring being my favorite season, so I am surprised that I'm so excited for a "real" fall actually durring the fall months. But I'll go with it and try not to think about the coming much colder winter. Yes, focus on fall. Fall, fall, fall.

And here are some recent and random pics:

"It's a funny joke sweetie"

I woke up chuckling and quite proud of myself. My dream was another crazy one. I was chasing a guy around chewing up his legal documents. He offered me a motion to dismiss or something like that, and I cleverly said, "I'd better not--I might get motion sickness."

Yup, that was a pretty good one.

Just keepin' it real.

Scare Tactics

Like Inigo Montoya, I've been starting conversations in strange ways of late. "Let me see your hand. Hold it up like this. Let's see..." Then I compare the respective lengths of index fingers and ring fingers. After I have aroused sufficient curiosity, I refer to this article.
I think I have been mixing up the diagnoses. The short index finger has nothing to do with Alzheimer's. Sorry to those of you who may have sustained irreparable emotional damage through my small talk.

Sorry, I just thought we should post SOMETHING.

Terralocomophobia

Imagine my joy today as William pulls out all of the videos and tosses them on the floor. Then imagine my ultimate delight as he pulls out Gumby. Yes, I am being sarcastic. I have already posted a while ago that I do not like Gumby. (Please forgive me if Gumby is your hero!) I was groaning on the inside. I tried to get Will to choose another show, and I almost had him. However, my supreme dedication to my son's happiness prevented me from preventing his enjoyment of the show. (And I didn't want to admit to myself that the reason I wouldn't let him watch it is because I have a Gumby phobia.) I quickly ran to my laptop after I pressed the play button, put on my earphones, and cursed my playlist for not starting quickly enough. I didn't even want to hear Gumby playing! I don't even want to post his picture and taint my blog!

I looked up "fear of Gumby" on the Internet. I recommend not doing this. While I saw many eye opening and even unpleasant views on Gumby, it seems no one else on the world wide web is afraid of Gumby. It seems I am alone in the universe. Who will go to therapy with me??? I have decided that you will now be in my therapy session. I'm going out on a limb here, sharing a deep inter part of my soul.......

Hi. My name is Meridy.
(Hi Meridy.)

I am afraid of that little green claymation figure named Gumby. In fact, I am afraid of all early claymation.
(Really? Why do you think Gumby has this affect on you?)

I think it is because it seems unnatural to me that objects, that look almost humanesc, but not human enough, are moving in strange environs, doing strange things, and having strange things happen to them. I imagine it is similar to how it would feel to see a zombie mother grocery shopping with her children one morning--strange and disconcerting, but not enough so that it causes absolute terror as it would if zombies were coming after you at night.

Actually, I've never been to therapy....what happens after the confession?

My Head A Splode

Be careful, it could happen to you.
More information on a sloding head syndrome.
It's a good thing I don't have too much mental capacity to begin with because I have certainly been overtaxing my poor brain of late. The last three days of my life have been especially mind-blowing. The bar exam is no picnic, so I wouldn't recommend that anyone take it...unless you want to be admitted to the bar...in which case you may have to take it. I hear the Utah bar exam is less demanding. I'm going to try that one next.

Another thing, why can't they tell us our dang MBE scores? 1/3 of the test is a multiple choice exam called the Multistate Bar Exam. We're talking fill-in-the-bubble here. It would take 2 seconds (give or take) to put it through a little machine, but we have to wait until October 22 to know how we did on it.

I'm just going to assume that I passed. That will make the next 2.5 months more enjoyable. Anyway, it's over now.

No Peaches

I haven't blogged in ages.

Obviously.

I don't know if I even know how to write a blog anymore. Nonetheless, I march onward and my fingers continue to to strike the letters on the keyboard. Often they strike the wrong ones, and I have to go back and erase a few letters, and type the proper ones in. I have never been that outstanding as a typist. And then I go back and reread what I've already written. Type a little bit more and then reread again. Then after I post it, I reread it again and try to fix all the mistakes I made, that I should have caught the first few hundred times, before anyone in the outside world can read them. It takes me a long time to type a good post.

I'm feeling contemplative. I think it is because we've had cloud cover all day, and because I just read a really interesting book. It's called The Guernsey Literary and Potato-Peel Pie Society. (I got a $22 hardback book for $1!! It was a steal!) Except for some swearing, it is one of the best books I have ever read. It is thought provoking and has heart wrenching moments, but has enough humor and good feeling to make the book completely enjoyable. Very thought provoking, insightful, great characters. But I don't want write a book review. Sorry.

We have been really busy. We have been going to dance class, getting ready to move, visiting old friends, visiting family, having birthday parties, winning medals, attending funerals (Zach's mother Krysti, and Nate's Grandpa Reeve passed away recently. Two wonderful people who will be missed!), getting ready for a wedding, getting ready for the blankity, blank, blank BAR exam, getting bit by a horse in the face (A horse bit Will, but don't worry he's fine. That horse is just ornery.), and playing "Grassy, Grass, Go Away" in which you think of grassy things to do. The last person to think of a fun thing to do in the grass wins. (Ellie made this game up, with help from Nate.) Here are some pictures. They are by no means all inclusive, but it is the best I have to work with right now.

Ellie and Will keeping it cool in the car. We've been in the car a lot lately.


Ellie has been sporting braids lately. I think they suit her well, and it looks like I cared enough to do her hair. ;) She still will not let me do her hair, but braids are apparently okay.


This is Will opening his Dinosaur Rar! at a little party we had at home. Denise, a friend of mine and Sheri's, came on Will's birthday, so we just had a fun little party with her and her two boys, Tristin and Ethan. We played with balloons, had snow cones, blew bubbles, had ice cream cone cake (Thanks for that idea Denise), and opened presents. Thanks for your gifts!




Darling Rachel.


Will and Ethan.

Gary, Tristin, and Will.


This is the cake from the little party we had for Will at my mom's house. He loved his gifts from her. And thank you Emily for the birthday gift you sent to Will. He and Ellie both loved the drums. And thanks to Cheryl for the books. Will and Ellie will enjoy those as well!


Nate with his Gold Medal for first place in his division for Singles in Table Tennis at the Utah summer games!


Will and my dad.

Ellie about to go to dance class.

And what, do you ask, does "No Peaches" have anything to do with all that? Nothing. However, I will honestly tell you that it IS a secret code........

Eating Grass & Fire-Resistant Pajamas

First, really quick, my friend Annjilla is trying to find someone. She is looking for a database, or a resource like unto it, or really anything, to find someone who rented a house next door to her when she was a little girl. If you have any advice or help for her please leave a comment on her blog post, click: HERE. This is really important to her. Thanks!

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We went on two walks this evening. On our second walk, we went to this place an the end of our condo complex. It is this really picturesque, grassy hill, spiced up with some trees and shrubbery. Situated high above the road, it gives a good view as well. We like to let the kids roam around there on occasion. As we were frolicking about, Nate would often chew on grass stems. The grass there has many opportunities for that sort of thing. Ellie did not like Nate chewing on grass stems at all. She wanted daddy to stop! When enough was too much, Ellie grabbed the grass out of Daddy's mouth, chucked it to the side, and told Daddy to, ".....never eat grass again!!!" Seeing that this was a little too much sass from our four year old, Daddy decided to discreetly pick another grass stem and chew on it. Ellie found out about it. I think we finally did ourselves proud and told Ellie, "No." We told Ellie that Daddy can eat grass if he wants to, and she would just have to deal with it. Ellie declared that we don't eat plants. Daddy reminded Ellie that broccoli, carrots, and potatoes are plants. But Ellie was not fooled. I guess four-year-olds are too shrewd to be tricked into thinking that grass and carrots are the same thing. Daddy tried again, and proceeded to explain that grass is like an herb. "What's an herb Daddy?" To which he replied, "An herb is a plant.......with.......special qualities." "And flavors.", I notably added. This intrigued the young one. The wheels started turning in her little mind. "I want to try it!" or perhaps it was actually, "I want one too." Either way, she ate her grass, and was grateful. William, of course, affably joined in as well.

Don't see the grass? Look harder.....

Later that evening, actually it was closer to midnight than evening, it was time for bed. Finally. I took the opportunity to dress Master William for bed. I picked out those tight pajamas. You know? The kind that you have to buy at least 2 sizes too big just to be able to pull them over your child's flailing limbs. Well, I was thinking about the known fact that they are so incredibly tight because they are supposed to be fire-resistant. What a comforting thought. What I want to know is: Why are we only worried about our children catching fire at night? Why don't we always dress them in fire-retardant materials? Because I am pretty sure, after discussing this with Nate, that our child is more likely to catch fire during the day. At night, he is secured. We keep him locked up at night........in his crib. He has limited access to flammables. Not that I'm saying I let him play with matches, but he is a wily little boy. He'll be one of those little boys at scout camp. You know the ones. The ones who light themselves on fire--perhaps while trying to blow up their plastic cups. Okay, well actually, to give him some credit, Will does have an appreciation for things that are hot. "Hot. Owie!", he says. But that doesn't change the intrigue of the fire itself. Something happens to the twelve year old brains of boys. They suddenly think they can light things on fire and not get burned. And so I think, he is still more likely to catch fire during the day and at scout camp. Will is going to Father and Sons with Nate in a few days. This is like an overly supervised scout camp, with an overly large number of supervisors who still like fire even though they are all grown up. I think I better pack Will his fire-resistant pajamas and nothing else.....

Mike, Charlie, and a tax on the poor

Three thoughts, two directly from the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, one as a derivative thought.

Mike Teavee
Willy Wonka says, "You. You're Mike Teavee. You're the little devil who cracked the system."
Mike Teavea says, "All you had to do, is track the manufacturing dates, offset by weather and the derivative of the Nikkei index. A retard could figure it out."
and, "Die! Die! Die! In the end, I only had to buy one candy bar."
The fact that he doesn't like chocolate only makes me more impressed by him.
Ok, he has some rough edges. From appearances, he hasn't been brought up very well, but the kid is busting with potential. He's a genius who should be snatched up by the CIA who could turn his powers for the good against various crime cells and terrorist organizations.
Anyway, my point is that Mike is portrayed as a villian who cheated to get the ticket. In my mind, he is the only one who earned it.
So, Meridy tried to help me understand. She said people might think he cheated because he wasn't the "lucky winner" the contest envisioned. This leads us to the lucky lotto winner...

Charlie
Willy Wonka says, "And you, well you're just lucky to be here, aren't you?"
Charlie says......well, I couldn't find any good quotes from him. He did share his birthday chocolate with his family. That is commendable.
But my point with Charlie has to do with his economic mishaps. He is a poverty sticken boy whose father, the family's only breadwinner, is out of work. So he wins the lottery. He gets a Golden Ticket, and he squanders it.
Now you are, no doubt, in an uproar about me saying he squandered his golden ticket. Hear me out. This Golden Ticket has a dollar value on the market. You'll see, if you watch the videos, that he is offered $500 by someone who is trying to sucker him. I'm pretty sure a lot of people would be willing to pay millions of dollars for that ticket. Let's put a price tag on it, say, 2 million dollars. He could sell that ticket, buy a real house for his family out in the country where his grandparents' failing health could improve. He could set up an annuity to support his family for years. He could set up a college fund (for self-actualization purposes if nothing else) for himself and pay for his father to get some training so he could be more valuable in the workforce. Does he do it? No. He spends that 2 million dollars and a trip to a chocolate factory. Talk about fiscal irresponsibility. This leads us to the unlucky lotto victims.

I was listening to NPR the other day --ok, once in a while I listen to NPR, sorry. Anyway, they were discussing whether or not Nevada should implement a state lottery to help pay for education. One guy called in and said that's what the progressive jackpots at the casinos are. I think he's right, but the commentators all wanted a lottery. I wanted to call in and say, "I have never heard anyone put forth this argument against having a lottery, and I think people should hear it. A lottery is like a tax on the poor."
In the name of education, state governments are miseducating the poor. Maybe my expectations of the gov. are too high.
Here is a quote from an article that says what I'm talking about,
"studies show that the heaviest lottery players -- the 20% of players who contribute 82% of lottery revenue -- disproportionately are low-income, minority men who have less than a college education. That has fueled a vociferous anti-lottery movement. "It really is government undercutting what government's role should be," which is encouraging people in financial straits to be responsible with their money, says Tom Grey of the National Coalition Against Legalized Gambling."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=03MuzHC-mWA&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DJuTx3CTXeI&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xad7iOBfI2c&feature=related
http://www.google.com/search?ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8&sourceid=navclient&gfns=1&q=lottery+and+poverty

Some Pictures of Graduation

Thanks

In a few hours I'll be graduating from law school. I'm not going to lie to you--this has been the hardest 3 years of my life. I have been pushed to my limits, held there until I burned out and then kept in the fire to see how long I could keep going when I had nothing left to burn. But what I smell now is not the scent of charcoaled soul. I smell deliverance! Come, rejoice with me! On this day, I close a chapter of my life and prepare to move on.
Before we start the celebration, I should really thank the people who sustained me and made this day a reality.

Meridy: How can I tell you how much you mean to me? After God, no one will ever take precedence over you. Thank you for being with me through all the hard times, encouraging me, keeping me on task and loving me. I knew you were cool when I started hanging out with you. I liked you more the more I explored you. I have come to know you so well, and sometimes you still blow me away. You learn new tricks every day. I am so glad I chose you. Your rock-solid faith and companionship keep my soul alive.

Family, specifically Mom and Dad: Thank you for supporting us in every way. The older I get, the smarter you guys get. I respect your counsel, and I'm so thankful for your example. Should a 27-year old man with a wife and two kids still be running to his parents for help in every crisis? Thank you for financing all our adventures to hospitals, mechanic's shops, and Knott's Berry Farm. We'll pay back the money, but we can never repay you for the help you constantly offer us.

Friends, specifically Peter: Thank you for the fierce frienship, fierce discussions, and fierce loyalty. I'm just glad to call you ally and not enemy. You helped me keep it real, and I look forward to having you in the trenches with me in the future.

God: Thou hast sent me here. Thou hast preserved me. I have come to know thee better in my extremities, and I thank thee for the lessons. I'm sorry for complaining so much. I wish I had taken my medicine with more grace. I will continue to trust in thee. I thank thee for providing me with family and friends to see me through.