With February nearly to a close, I had to document a couple things I actually accomplished, instead of just talked about or thought about.

Remember my kissing pictures series? Basically I am horrible at printing and framing pictures on my wall. I didn't have hardly any pictures of family, and wanted my kids to know who was who. So I decided I would take a picture of every auntie and uncle in our family to frame.
Catch one: they had to be kissing
Catch two: Black and white to try to look pretty

I decided I needed to do this back in 2007! This is why this is not a crafting blog people. It's now 2011 and I just finished my collages for family A (my side) and family O (his side)



Ta-da! Nothing major but a big accomplishment for me. Now I just need to finish the collage for our family (me, Mister, kiddos). Hopefully it won't take me another 4 years but anything is possible.

And lastly: I think Vanilla Wafer has asked if we could make a snowman for a solid 5 months. Sometimes it's too easy to put kids off...especially when you say "Okay buddy, there's a big storm coming in 2 days and then we'll build one" and said storm brings rain not snow. So this time we pounced on our recent snowstorm like a puma! A puma I tell you! And we built this guy after church last Sunday.



Too bad some punk teenage kids (I think) whacked his head off the same night we built him.

Grrrrrr!

Over the weekend, we took a ferry from Ireland to Scotland and headed to the capital of Edinburgh. Just about the entire weekend we practiced our pronunciation: which is to say {Eh-din-burr-eh} (try to roll those r's just a bit) instead of Edinberrr-g. I have to admit, Edinburgh could be my favorite stop so far. There really is only one word to describe the town, towering with high rise stone buildings, lining the royal mile leading up to the castle, with parliament buildings, churches, and banks so grand each building could easily be a highlight if placed in a regular town. Okay so the one word to describe it before I began my run-on sentence is this: majestic.

When we first came to town square, we were immediately seized upon by a parade of sorts. Armies of Scots in kilts were walking through the streets, playing bagpipes, and hitting drums.



It wasn't until later that we found out that this was a "Protestant March". It seemed the natural extension of our black cab tour and the U.K.'s Protestant vs. Catholic history. Later in the day we learned that the pope is coming to Edinburgh next week, so perhaps fervor was brewing for the visit? Who knows.

If you see in the picture above of the high rise stone buildings, you get a sense of the presence of "The Royal Mile". It's a cobblestone street with buildings that old and that tall lining both sides of the street. It was on The Royal Mile that I tracked down my salad of the day.



A few things I'm starting to figure out about food over here.
A) Big Salads are rarely a menu item. Usually it's a side with something else.
B) Apparently my U.S. palette is sodium heavy, because I keep ordering all this delicious food but end up cranking the salt shakers all over it.

So I was excited to eat this salad because it had sweet potatoes, but the greens were bitter and the potatoes bland. My yellow split pea soup however, was divine.

We toured the castle, imagined life as royalty, and later in the day did a tour called "The Real Mary King's Close". That was a fascinating look into the everyday lives of people living here centuries ago, particularly the poor. With such huge buildings, the basement levels were generally fallout shelters, just one big dark enclosed room. They explained that usually 2-3 families shared this space, slept on floors, and the only light was from a wick burning the cheapest oil available: fish oil (gag me now). And in the corner was a bucket where everyone went to the bathroom and which could only be thrown into the alleyway twice a day, draining down the roads and into the lake below.



We also took a bagillion flights of stairs up the Sir Walter Scott Monument. Here we are about one-fourth of the way up.



Next we stayed in Glasgow, but didn't really hit the city scene at all. We strolled through a HUGE park with a museum showcasing the private collection of John Burroughs. Lots of Degas, Rodain, and this sculpture, which I disturbingly related to the most:



This park was huge rolling countryside hills. Apparently, Scottish cattle had nearly been lost in farming practices until a recent resurgence to bring back heritage breeds. Very cool. Check out this particular herd at the park. They are owned by the city council, and they have enough pasture to remain clean and eat a healthy grass-fed diet. So cool! My little farmer husband got up close to pet one.



Other things in this park was a community garden, horse riding stalls, the miles and miles of soft green grass and forest. It seemed to me what every park should try to be. So lovely.

At the park we hit some old house where the former "servants kitchen" was turned into a restaurant. It was there I had my salad for September 12th. Perfect with a little quiche on the side.



And a kiss to end the post.

[An embedded video from another website was here; it is no longer available.]

It might as well be February with all the pondering and celebrations of love recently. We finally married off little brother video buff of The Mister of the House. When the happy couple finally emerged from the stony temple that looks like a castle on a hill...well, it was like paparazzi scrambling to get a shot of Brangelina. Check it out.



Since both my Grandpas passed away before I was married, I got to adopt The Misters Grandpa and Grandma.  Grandpa married the happy couple (like he did for The Mister & Mrs. Olsen nearly ten years ago). Among the many words of wisdom he shared was this: 

Your love is strong right now, but it is not perfect.

He then pointed to the parents and grandparents, and talked about how love becomes more beautiful with age.

 


What a lovely, happy, and as far as I can tell, perfectly loving couple.

Now let's get down to bid-ness.


Come on, let us have it...

Yippee.  Another picture for my kissing wall.  Is passion love? Are kisses more passionate when love ages?  

Of course, first comes love, then comes marriage.  Nothing like a picture with all the nieces and nephews to prep you for what's to come.

Run now while you have a chance. Take a long, quiet, diaper-free honeymoon immediately before it's too late!

Who's talking?

That was uncalled for. Heck, there's nothing like children to bring you closer together.

Right? Right? Okay, that was formerly a crook for my offspring.  Take a joke why dontchya?  

btw, there's my long and apparently invisible layers of my first ever haircut in 5 years.  We're calling that phase 1 (of 2) in my hair makeover.  Besides we've got to keep it long enough to have the quintessential romantic hairdo of the century.

Modeled by the latest Mrs. Olsen, formerly known as Jen Adair.  Simple, classy, and gorgeous. What a perty bride.

Speaking of love manifest through hair, check out my daddio.

Poor guy's been without his bride for the past 3 weeks.  So here's love in action.  My folks can't seem to survive being apart from each other.  In order to prove his total dependence on my mom, my dad decided to grow a beard, be a hermit, and live on Cheetos the entire time she's been gone.  Sorry to break it to ya dad, but you failed the Louis L'Amour Cowboy Course: your beard really stinks.  But I think you made up for it with your sweet hairy eyebrows.  Thanks for riding your horse down my way to pay me a visit.

Maybe romantic love gets stronger the second generation down.  

When you start out young, bright-eyed and in love, do you really see this coming down the road?

Grandpa Love sure seems to be running strong around here.  Before he even pulled his loveboat of a car out of my driveway, Rainbow Girl turned to me all sad and said: "I miss him already".

I miss him too!  Of course, there's one thing me and my dad will always share: a crooked back.  Which is why I have been basking in this phase of my love life because I seriously got a 2 hour shoulder rub, back massage last night from The Mister of the House.   He insisted I watch Star Trek: Wrath of Khan so I could be properly prepared to see the new Star Trek movie in the theatre.  But it's more than just a nerdy sci-fi movie people that's motivating us here people!  Only true love could keep that shoulder burn going the entire time....

Aaaahhh..

is anyone still reading this?

There are a few unwritten rules in life: never buy from traveling salesmen, don't say the word "bomb" in an airport, never date co-workers, or your best friend's crush for that matter.  Never ever allow yourself to purchase or drive a Trans Am.  And once you're married, don't go tracking down old boyfriends and setting up lunch dates and such.

Until the Olsen wedding next month, I'm clean out of kissing pictures to showcase. Well, clean out after this next one of Wade and Marilyn, Idaho natives and former dwellers of Apache Avenue. Also known as the big people who taught me how to ride a bike, how to laugh, and how to set the table. Check out how cute they are:



Here they are just appeasing my requests for a kissing picture. My dad, lover of Louis L'Amour novels who thinks shovels and hard work speak louder than words, has never been one for much public displays of affection. He also will perform a disappearing act anytime somebody starts talking about bras, maxi pads, or pregnancies.

I don't think that picture is making it onto my kissing wall. I have a better one in mind.


That's more like it, don't you think? I edited the picture to have full glow, because they are taking a bath in love and light. That kiss looks more real, and my mom is smiling in her eyes.

So what makes their love unique? Um, where do I start? They married while in college, my dad was a wiry b-ball player and my mom was a pageant queen with a 25-inch waist. Their first date was at the A&W, and my dad ordered french fries. My mom ordered a salad. She ate half his fries (or so he said) and we all heard about it every time we ate a Happy Meal. She would giggle and remind us that she didn't kiss him until the 13th date (or so she said) while he smirked. It took the family approximately 40 years to get the story straight, and I still don't remember the true story because I've heard the legends for so long.

Amazingly, they have been married 47 years this summer. That is really weird for me. And in that 47 years they left the farm, started a new life as teachers, wanted kids but couldn't have any...and then starting in 1969 {an anxious seven years after their marital vows} their prayers were answered and they had my brother Derek. Over the next eight years they cranked out 4 more kids and bought a spud farm on the side. And when I was two, they lost their shirts, pants, and underwear on that spud farm, which produced a lifetime crop of cautious, conservative, hard-working teachers instead of farmers.

She never pumps her own gas, and he lives off Cheetos and fruit spritzers if she's ever out of town. He was an athlete who grew up in the era when only flambuoyant men worked in Department stores, and yet he happily (and privately) delved into the (effeminate?) role of doting, singing, lullabying, floor wrestling, and making-up-songs Dad and Grandpa. She adored that about him, and provided 5 kids to practice on. Oh and he also chucked shoes at us if we got out of bed (there's that athlete part coming through). As long as his shoe hit the wall instead of our head (which it always did for some reason) she swooned at his superior athletic skills.

Mom and Dad...I love you!

Advice to the masses: Don't for one minute think that you marry a person as a separate entity from their family. The mafia, the Mormons, and your grandmother are right: You marry the family. And I couldn't be happier to have married into the family of The Mister of the House. I hereby present, on this Lovely Monday, the lip attachment of his DNA contributors, otherwise known as my kids Grandparents, and The Mister's parents.



Although I asked them to pose for this shot, it couldn't have turned out more authentic. She's just breathing him in and he's pulling her in close, cherishing her at the same time. I think I can safely say that they're sharing an inside joke that might go something like this:

These young kids don't know much about love, but it's sure cute to see them try. Remember when our "Mister of the House" was a teenager who couldn't even bear to go on family vacations with us? Let's just cross our fingers that all these grandkids will see all the sights and know all the love we have for them, and that their parents (our kids) will make it through wiser, happier, and more in love.

So I can't help define "their love" and how it's unique without keeping it in context of The Mister of the House, he being the oldest of seven children (you heard me, seven!) and a very lost and lonely soul from about 14 to 20-something.

Well, he made friends and enjoyed his hobbies, it's not like his entire life was a void of course, but a part of him was searching for spiritual peace during that time (and he looked for it in a lot of stupid places). He and his parents seemed to go through their own evolution together...and yet I think it was the love of these people with unique names, this Herm and this Norma, that eventually brought my husband back to his true self. His self as a son of a Heavenly Father who desperately desperately loved him.

Throughout those years his parents were always happy, truly happy to see him and hear how he was doing. While there was disappointment in the path their son was leading, they laid off the "How dare you!" or "You were raised better than that!" speeches (He was well into his teenage years by then, so I can still give those speeches to my very impressionable young kids thank you very much).

But anyway...

Apart from being an anchor to a wayward son, what makes their love unique?


He absolutely spoils her every Christmas even though she's not your diva-mom that would expect that type of thing. She puts on a major spread on the dinner table for most of her family every Sunday, all the while being shadowed by her man cleaning her trail in the kitchen (there's just something about a man who can clean a kitchen that will always win a place in my heart). He is an overworked attorney, and yet never seems to bring the stress of his job back home, and is quick to squeeze his Norma even after a crazy day at the office. She works hard to install lots of crazy and memorable traditions for her family throughout the year, and with all her careful planning is happy to sit back and let her man preside over the family with love and wisdom. There's something so daring about that in our modern day society. And they make it work because they adore, love, and respect each other. And their kids.

Since I've already lamented about my cheap-arse brother here, I thought I would now share the love. Here is his image for my kissing wall, pictured here with his wife of *almost* fifteen years. Here we go:

The perfect parting of the lips...

how shall I make the 5 hour drive home?

instead of on my love, my life....my Salina.

Okay, so I just made that up right? Amazing I know. Since this picture was just before they got in their car for their drive home, I thought it was appropriate. I actually wrote that channeling Clay, but for Salina. It's complicated. Somehow she (Salina) seems to embody all the romantic tendencies of the female gender: the bling, the smelling good, the getting all dolled up and making all the other aunties...I mean females, look like slobs who wear workout clothes but never go to the gym.

You can see in her eyes she quick to humor, and she's generous enough to laugh at my brother: even when he's being a cheap-skate.

There's a sing-song quality to her laugh that I wish I could put on the blog. And if you get her in a movie that is good and funny, she belts a cross between a guffaw and a hardy-har-har and then ends it a triple note Ha-ha-HA! that trails upwards into space. I went to I-Spy with her and laughed more at her, laughing at the movie.

Clay and Salina. What makes their love unique? They started out playing college ball and sharing a bus on the away games. While they started strong and tough, they really just longed for a quieter life with the pitter-patter of little feet. After a few years of coupledom, their prayers for offspring were answered with the thundering of the uterus full of triplets. And while Clay had the business smarts to support his growing family in whatever he put his mind to: he also had (and has) the charisma to evolve himself in a changing world. He upped his college degrees with a plus-one (MBA) after the triplets and while working full-time, and put in the time (and moo-la) to allow his wife to be home laughing and loving on their adorable offspring. Salina maintained her sanity (and her figure) by keeping a great sense of humor and being one of my favorite motherhood blends: loving but no-nonsense. Fifteen years later, they've still got love to spare on their five adorable and squeaky clean kids.