Skipping from a Caribbean Sunset to a High Mountain Wind...

Well, we've changed nests drastically and temporarily. So this calls for a new blog look and more pictures! (More pictures of Chewey, of course!)

Can you find the Chewey?

There's a Chewey in the box on the table in the hole in the middle of the sea...

A little snowman made by Ryan

Silk-tie Easter eggs per Ryan

Chewey in the loft. And upset by it.

"I doin' much better now that I'm in da swing!"

Right now, I'd kill for...

• a cookie bar
• Harry Potter movies that won't skip on my computer
• a bath
• a hair cut
• a hair color
• one more pair of workout pants
• 17 liposuction cookie bars
• with chocolate chips, drizzled caramel and sweetened condensed milk, infused with love & coconut flakes all pressed into a graham cracker crust
• that move your fat cells from your waist into your boobs

My day today.

I sang Phantom of the Opera songs while washing dishes tonight. It was nice; I haven't sang for a while. :-)

Tonight, I created a delightful couscous concoction with sauteed garlic and onion, cooked in vegetable broth and seasoned with basil, cumin, salt & black pepper, with black beans and some green peas. Pretty fun! A very good, quick, vegetarian dinner.

Today at the gym I did Leg Presses. (Mondays & Thursdays I work out my legs.) And I really, truly dislike that WHOEVER uses the press machine at the sub-par gym at St. George's University leaves all those plates on!! I hope whoever you are, you are reading this. I don't care if you think you are better than me because you are stronger than me, or more hard-core than me, but I don't care, because it doesn't change the fact that you left all that weight on for me to take care of. My leg workouts are about me, and not about you. Just because you can press that much, doesn't mean that I can, or that I can even remove all of those 45-lb plates you leave on the machine. I do not incorporate cleaning up after you as part of my workout. Beware, Heavy Presser, for I will bring my Post-Its next time, and you will experience my wrath.

I'm watching "Julie & Julia" as I write this--and it makes me very happy. I can relate: I myself am venturing into a new, slightly-scary adventure with my exercise stuff, and like these Julia characters, I also fortunately have this wonderful husband who acts as my cognitive therapist, business consultant, and partner in crime.

It rained a lot today, which in Grenada for me means: not a laundry day, a no-show yoga day, high humidity, no random fires of burning whatever, and lots of cool wind through the house.

Ryan's been sick for 5 days. Which basically means he sleeps in about four hours longer than normal, eats less, and tells me to find a good husband and that he loved me very much. (Notice past tense.) Although he insists that the ibuprofen doesn't help, he keeps taking it from me when I offer it to him. As far as the man stereotype goes, he is a very chipper & tough sick man. As far as Ryan goes, he has become pretty dramatic. (Which is up .25 notches from his normal even-kill self.) So in summary, I've been taking care of a now-7-year-old medical student who is behind on his Pathology. As usual, I am more concerned than he is.

I decided yesterday when I have to severely repress my desire to smack my own head against the concrete wall because of stupid things that people say, I will do 20 push-ups.  And I did 20 push-ups yesterday. And my hypothesis was correct: I did feel a lot better.

And with that, I leave you with a wonderful quote from Albus Dumbledore:

Tales of a High-Strung Mass Comm Major's "Fingernails-On-A-Chalkboard"

Part 1

There are a small handful of things that come naturally to me. Correcting spelling and grammar errors is one of them. So every time I see a sign in public like the following, I have to actively repress my carnal, cave-woman urges to not start screaming incoherently:

This is taped on our complex's washer. I have to look at this 2nd grade level sentence every time I do laundry. It just adds to my contempt for it all.

This one, I'm not 100% sure about--it could be a European way to spell "energizing." It's still ugly, though.

It's "sanitary napkinSSSSS" or cut the "all," you dolt! Are you plural, or are you singular? Pick one! You can't have both! C'mon, it's university bathroom! And where's my semi-colon after the "provided for you"? That's not even everything that is wrong with this sign... They're trying to provoke me, aren't they? I'm already having one of my "delightful woman" days, and they purposefully write destroy this phrase.

How Do You Succeed in Business... When You're REALLY, REALLY trying?

It's March 2nd, and I have a thriving in-home personal training business and a full yoga class clientele.

Well, kind of.

I think I'm experiencing the part of running your own business called discouragement?

I was experiencing full yoga classes of 5 people (a lot for me!) in January and February and had accumulated 5 training clients and possibly two more. I felt like I was working up to 30-35 hours a week there for a while! (That means 50 hours/week in Utah. I add on more hours because my phone is worse that the one I got for Christmas in 1999; the bus drivers are 100% on time, 40% of the time; and there is nowhere in 1,000 miles where I can get more equipment that I need.) But then midterms showed up. My schedule today consisted of teaching evening yoga and four client sessions today. Today, after several text messages, I have one client appointment and my one yoga class.

I shouldn't let it get to me because I should know better--I've been a student before! When midterms/finals arose, the entire world needed to go away until they were over, and then we would be friends again.

Oh well. I guess it's good I'm learning this now in my own "internship" instead of the real world where the bills depend on my money. And now I have time to hit the books and the Google to find more ways to improve my service and business!

Time for a pot of lemon grass tea and hit the books...

Good Bye, Hard Life, Don't Cry, Would you let it Ride?

Once upon a time, in October 1986, Van and Andrea Evans gave birth to me. Twenty-five years later, I was living in the wonderful and maddening island called Grenada. And that's when my sister Hayley sent me a birthday present.

She informed me that mailed it just a little too late; it probably won't arrive on the island until after my birthday. No worries! I was just delighted that I was getting a package in the mail; it's one of my favorite things. :-)  My landlord's assistant said that the post office calls them when something arrives for one of their tenants, and she goes herself to pick it up. Awesome! So it's really going to come right to my door. Happy Birthday to me!

October came and went. November almost left before I took it upon myself to go to the post office on my own. There was a package from my mom as expected: postmarked October 21st.

And I clearly asked them if this was all that there was for me--that there were no other letters or packages for me. She said no.

When December rolled around, Hayley asked me if I'd received her present yet. I frowned and said no.

"What did you put in the envelope? Nothing valuable?" I asked.

"No," Hayley replied, "Just lots of papers, some stickers, some autumn leaves from Logan." [Logan is a small college town north of Salt Lake City.] I later learned that she made small slips of paper of Activities To Do When You're Bored. That is easily one of the most thoughtful gifts ever. I get misty just thinking about it. :-)

My shoulders sank in perplexed disappointment. No one would steal anything like that, would they? Hmm...

OH BUT DON'T WORRY EVERYONE! Because in the early afternoon on January 30, 2012, someone placed a delightful manilla envelope under my doormat! (No knocking. Coward didn't want to face the recipient's rampage.)

Fabulous stickers, sorry leaves

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Delightful Holiday!

Ryan and I had a splendid holiday in the "Long Island" of Utah, aka Park City. (In Grenada, they don't say vacation, they say holiday like the British do.)

I did have two comical culture shocks:

One; as we left the SLC Airport, I was a little unnerved why no one was looking at me at all... and then I remembered that white people never stare at other white people! :-)

And Two; I almost told my mom about 3 times that she was driving on the incorrect side of the road. Oh boy.


Here are some fabulous pictures of the last 8 weeks or so on and off the island. And yes, I do realize that I am becoming that girl whose pictures widely consist of food and her dog.

"You guyz not leave wi'out me, wight?"

"Somefing's wrong with dis guy."

Where's the Chewey?

Chicken Cordon Bleu with white wine cheese sauce & Grilled Asparagus wrapped in prosciutto.

Baby brothers Spencer (left) and Emerson (right). (Yes, they're both a head taller than me.)

My pretty momma enjoying her Christmas present. And it gets better: I gave her a yoga class before, she took a bubble bath after dinner, and went to bed at 10 pm. Yep, Best Present Award goes to Ryan & Jessi this year!

Yom yom yom!

Amazing Dinner #2 per Chef Ryan: his bday meal. Lovely green Harvest salad! (Avocados were me. Thank you.)

Lobster Bisque (Fat Free, Weight-Loss Enhancing, & Cellulite Reducer, of course!)

What a pretty Tray of Creme Brulees!

Once again, whipped cream, berry, and mint leaf were me. Hair toss, Thank You!

So cute--Ryan teaching Zane how to fetch with Chewey!

Momma with her cute little kindergarteners

Umm... Super pathetic. And awkward. (Yes, he killed his toy lobster and moved on to his rope.)

Mom made Ryan an apple pie for his bday! It was dee-lish! And muy bonita.

Okay, who is the best wife EVER?! My best present to him yet, methinks.

Tah-Daaaahhhh!!! Now I should know everything. (Wait, what?!?!)

My Three Favorite Pictures

I burst out laughing so so so hard at these. I hope you enjoy them. :-)

Cone of Shame

Will someone get this for me?

Aye!

A Grenada Post Office Moment

My sweet Momma sent me a package for my birthday (which was October 12,  about 7 weeks ago). I expected it to get here, oh I dunno, the end of November.

After my birthday, I asked my office-landlady's-assistant-girl which neighborhood post office I should go to if I had a package to pick up. She told me that I wouldn't even have to worry about it: she would get the phone call from the office and she would pick it up for me! Cool!

And November came and went.

Ugh.

Could it be that maybe those jerks kept my package!

So, I finally got fed up and just CALLED the Post Office myself. And the lady's like "Yah! You've got one!"

ACK! If you want something done right, you better do it yourself!

So I bussed over there, terrified of them telling me this package is going to cost $240 or something. I began to feel like I was going to an audition. And all my ex-boyfriends were the judges. Yikes! I took out the big bills of my wallet, just in case I'd have to put on a big show: "Oh, I don't have $50! I only have a $20! That's all I have!" (cue back of hand to forehead)

So I waltzed in there, in my nasty gym clothes (wearing them helps the drunk men sober up enough to recoil) and got the attention of the lady behind the counter. She was actually nice & efficient (by Grenada standards), and it only cost $5.75 EC ($2.14 US)! I got the feeling that the post office folks didn't hate me, but wanted me out of there. Fine by me!

Inside the little box, were Dove chocolates (that were gone two days ago), a birthday card, and a nice, specialized fiber supplement I asked for. I was tickled pink!

Here's the clencher: I think the date of arrival was written on the box: 10-21-11. Sigh.

Thanksgiving Week, Part 3/3. Overall, a successful dinner!

Appetizer - slash - Lunch

Dough that's becoming rolls...

Chicken with minced onion & garlic, pre-cooked

Rolls in the oven, for the dough's third rising

Sigh, all your hard work is making me tired...

Halfway done! :-)

All the way done, and half-way gone

My salad, roll, and chicken breast. Yum!

With butternut squash soup!

Thanksgiving Week, Part Two

Wednesday: Make Pumpkin Pie! Boil potatoes, defrost chicken.

Sigh, the infamous pumpkin pie. I got everything out before I realized I didn't have a rolling pin. Blurg! Or a shortening cutter. Double blurg! I made twice the amount of pie crust that I needed, making plenty of room for error.

Tried the white/green plastic plate as a rolling pin, but no cigar...

... But the potato masher was an incredible shortening cutter!

Here is my invention of a rolling pin: off-brand Pam wrapped in plastic wrap.

 

 

 

Success! Thank you Alton Brown for the plastic wrap idea!

Lots of drama to get to this point. I'm glad I made lot-sa crust!

Almost done! Looks... okay.

After a long time of trying that cool finger-pinching thing my mom does to her pie crusts, I forked it! Ugh, now it looks like a trashy diner's chicken pot pie. Oh well.

Don't tell me nutmeg isn't in the recipe for the pumpkin part! I will not have it! It will be freshly grated in the batter regardless!

My moment of anxiety: Did I halve this recipe? Will all this batter fit in my pie crust?

Oh good! Yes it will!

Pie in the oven, chopped potatoes in the water...

Ugh, here's my non-Moonshine yam. It's supposed to be orange! Blurg.

Finished pie product! I hope it's good tomorrow!