from the mixed-up files of a middle-aged mind

So like all good remodel projects this one hasnt been without its setbacks. Aside from it being impossible to get someone from the flooring retailer (from whom I am resigned to purchase my   carpet because their bid came in at about half of the one I got from RC Willey for the same carpet) to come and measure for the carpet, things had been going fairly well until yesterday afternoon. When I had a panic attack. Im trying to invest a bit more time and money to do this the right way. Which means Im sanding everything before I paint, painting one coat, sanding again, then painting a second coat. But yesterday while I was sanding a little chunk of paint came off and I more or less stopped breathing.  What if I had just painted Latex over oil-based paint and the entire room would peel off much like one would peel a banana ? YIKES! I was fairly certain this wasnt the case because a friend of mine who does faux painting professionally painted my daughters room over a year ago a...

The Little Red Hen (known heretoafter simply as LRH, but not to be confused with  Lucky Red Hen  whose presence is sorely missed in these parts) decided she was tired of worn and dirty carpet and ill-painted walls and she needed to update her look. So she ordered some new flooring and chose some new paint and jumped into the project with both feet. Who will help me put things away? LRH asked. Not I, said each of her four chickadees all at the same time. Then I will, said the LRH. And so she did. Who will help me move the furniture? asked LRH. Not I, came the unified reply. And so it went. No one wanted to do the boring stuff so LRH was left to do it all herself.  OK, well a lot of it anyway. Who will prep the room(s) because even I dont want to do that? said LRH, but in spite of her bad habits of usually skipping that part she resigned herself to do this job the right way. Now who will help me paint the walls? whispered LRH a bit sarcastically. I will! ...

Find me at compulsivewriter.com ...or my blog less traveled by oh simple things fin

Preface: As many of you know, it has been a life-long  challenge  for me to discover the  zen in the art  of  homemaking . Sooooo… Yesterday when they got to the part in  Relief Society  meeting in which the sisters shared good news I turned to my friend and admitted the following: “I can’t say this out loud, but my good news is I finally got  all  the laundry folded and put away.” Trust me, the washing is the easy part For those of you who have it together (that would probably mean all the rest of you), that may be a daily or weekly occurrence. But not chez moi. I’m really good at washing it, but then it just piles up waiting for attention. It had spilled out of the laundry room an into the family room in the form of a mountain of mostly folded towels sheets, odd socks and hand-me-downs gathering dust on our second-hand pool table. My goal for the weekend was to clean it off entirely, find a place for everything and put everything in ...

my kids attended with various levels of enthusiasm. or not it's always fun to hone in on someone else's photo shoot and that was a photo op not to be resisted

f you’d been a fly on the wall (well, technically somewhere over the VoIP) this is what you would’ve overheard the other day while I was at work: Ring. Me:  Hello. Burgundy London; this is Dalene, may I help you? Caller X:  Hello, I’m calling from Lackawanna. I just want to let you know blah blah blah blah blah. Me ( thinking I’m ending the call ):  Sure. I’ll be happy to take care of that for you. Thank you for calling. Caller X:  Dalene. That’s an unusual name. Me ( still thinking I’m ending the call ):  Yes it is. My parents made it up. Thanks for…( read: end of story. ) Caller X:  Irish. “Lene” is Irish. You’re not Irish are you? Me ( still trying to end the call and figuring there is no point in explaining it’s not Irish; it’s Intermountain West. All the other offices of my company already think we’re weird here because we are sober. ):  Nope. I was firstborn; my dad’s name was Dale. Dalene is simply Dale with an “n-e” tacked on. ...

I interrupt this program to bring you urgent  breaking news  of the very best kind. Then you may return to this regularly scheduled programming. ( My apologies. I realize this makes two memes in a row and indicates a complete lack of original thought. But I couldn’t resist the complete randomness of this one, so I gave it a go: ) My roommate and I once… used to frequent Punk Night at The Palace. (Hey, I could Rebel Yell with the best of them.) Never in my life have I… been to the opera, a Justin Timberlake concert or a clam bake. I don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything, do you? High school was… so long ago! But so much fun. I had friends in every crowd, which made it easy to have a good time. I also have lots of stories. I probably shouldn’t mention any names when I mention one of our teachers who tried to hit on a couple of us (not at the same time). Ewww! When I’m nervous… I feel like I’m going to throw up. I also forget people’s names just a tad more than I u...

Recently I was tagged by the lovely  café johnsonia  to participate in a marriage meme. As you know, I can’t resist a good meme, so here it goes: Where did you meet your husband? BYU 122nd ward, comprised of one-half of Centennial Apartments. And, you guessed it, twice we served together as counterparts in various church auxiliaries. But we didn’t really want to have anything to do with one another. Does it get any more cliché than that? What was the first thing you said to your husband? I truly have no idea. But according to him it was the third week in April, 1983. I was sitting on the floor in a lower floor apartment on the outside of the complex, at the home of Jay Jorgensen, whose little sister Janelle was my roommate. Shane came over to tell Jay’s apartment about an upcoming softball game. We all exchanged casual “Hi’s” and that was it. He doesn’t believe me, but as he was recounting the details it did all come back to me. What I remember best was that 4th of ...

ou may remember a few months back when, in a conscious effort to take better care of myself I subjected said self to a  nuclear stress test . Well, my “be good to you” saga continues. A few weeks ago I got to have a sleepover. It was at the sleep medicine clinic at UVRMC. The reason I signed up for a sleepover is because I have suspected for several years I might suffer from a certain sleep disorder. And I’ve been in denial about it until the latest family reunion, when I saw my aunt, who also suffers from this disorder, have to pack around an oxygen machine. (I did a three-week stint with home oxygen back in ‘01. Trust me, you don’t want to go there if you don’t have to.) So I met with a pulmonologist and booked me a night at the sleep center. I arrived at 9:15 p.m. one night, half expecting to sleep on a gurney while a bunch of white-coated technicians watched from a one-way window on the second floor and recorded my every move . But the room was rather like a bed and breakf...

Eighteen years ago today, after 29 hours of labor and 2 1/2 hours of hard pushing, I watched as my OB’s office nurse–who had come on her own time to be with us during labor and delivery–climbed on top of the bed, got on top of my belly and literally pushed a reluctant first child down and out into the world. We named him Luke. There is something to be said for an oldest child, who basically is born to parents who don’t know any better, but who must sort through sheer volumes of unsolicited advice and most likely a parenting book or two in order to essentially learn how to parent as they go. And so it was with Luke. He somehow survived his colic and my post-partum depression to grow up and be a normal, happy and curious child. Some of my favorite memories of Luke are playing in the laundry, telling bedtime stories (not read, but made up–he loved them) and watching him chase butterflies during his first couple of seasons of youth soccer. He grew up to become quite good at soccer a...

Eighteen years ago today, after 29 hours of labor and 2 1/2 hours of hard pushing, I watched as my OBs office nursewho had come on her own time to be with us during labor and deliveryclimbed on top of the bed, got on top of my belly and literally pushed a reluctant first child down and out into the world. We named him Luke. There is something to be said for an oldest child, who basically is born to parents who dont know any better, but who must sort through sheer volumes of unsolicited advice and most likely a parenting book or two in order to essentially learn how to parent as they go. And so it was with Luke. He somehow survived his colic and my post-partum depression to grow up and be a normal, happy and curious child. Some of my favorite memories of Luke are playing in the laundry, telling bedtime stories (not read, but made uphe loved them) and watching him chase butterflies during his first couple of seasons of youth soccer. He grew up to become quite good at soccer actual...

In the past 48 hours I spent  an hour and half getting splattered by hot bacon grease so a band of high-school kids would enjoy a more affordable week at band camp. I stayed up  till well after 12:30 a.m. packing son #2 off for band camp, rising at quarter after five the next morning to take him to Provo High for his departure. Within the next half hour we made three trips back and forth in order to make sure the band had all the supplies they needed donated and my son had his cell phone so he could contact us if needed. I laughed at this son as I asked him to come to the car so I could hug him good-bye but he gave me a hug and a big grin right there in front of all his friends. Later and after a full-days work at the office  I withstood  (not entirely gracefully) an hour and a half being the target of hormonal pre-teen angst/anger while helping my daughter get ready for girls camp (and that was just round one). I later spent  two and a half hours at Wa...

Disclaimer: Lest you think I am someone I’m not, I need to assure you I am not “all that.” By definition I am what is known as a “slacker mom.” Even still: In the past 48 hours… I spent  an hour and half getting splattered by hot bacon grease so a band of high-school kids would enjoy a more affordable week at band camp. I stayed up  till well after 12:30 a.m. packing son #2 off for band camp, rising at quarter after five the next morning to take him to Provo High for his departure. Within the next half hour we made three trips back and forth in order to make sure the band had all the supplies they needed donated and my son had his cell phone so he could contact us if needed. I laughed at this son as I asked him to come to the car so I could hug him good-bye but he gave me a hug and a big grin right there in front of all his friends. Later and after a full-day’s work at the office  I withstood  (not entirely gracefully) an hour and a half being the target of ho...

So not really. But I’ve been a bit worried that poor Moaning Myrtle might feel a bit a badly for being left out of all the excitement in Book 7, so I decided to send a little nod her way. In any case I’ve been tagged by Anne Bradshaw over at  Not Entirely British . I’ve only just “met” Anne, but I can tell you she is a writer, is related to one of my favorite musicians–Phil Collins (yes, I am old)–and is starting a feature on her blog called  Water Wisdom . As a better appreciation of and more conservation of one of our most precious resources is something I’m a bit passionate about, I wanted to give that a nod as well. And now back to the Moaning Meme: 5 people who will be annoyed I tagged them: None. Because I wimp out when it comes to tagging. In a real life game of tag I would thoroughly enjoy my turn being “it” then I would just holler out “Whoever wants to be ‘it’  you’re it !” 4 things that should go into room 101 and be removed from the face of the eart...

So not really. But Ive been a bit worried that poor Moaning Myrtle might feel a bit a badly for being left out of all the excitement in Book 7, so I decided to send a little nod her way. In any case Ive been tagged by Anne Bradshaw over at  Not Entirely British . Ive only just met Anne, but I can tell you she is a writer, is related to one of my favorite musiciansPhil Collins (yes, I am old)and is starting a feature on her blog called  Water Wisdom . As a better appreciation of and more conservation of one of our most precious resources is something Im a bit passionate about, I wanted to give that a nod as well. And now back to the Moaning Meme: 5 people who will be annoyed I tagged them: None. Because I wimp out when it comes to tagging. In a real life game of tag I would thoroughly enjoy my turn being it then I would just holler out Whoever wants to be it  youre it ! 4 things that should go into room 101 and be removed from the face of the earth: 1. Meannes...