Lard And Love

White Sparrow is a tucked away little place on an back country lane outside of Rexburg, Idaho.  It opened a few months ago and the people keep coming.  They are known for their southern fried pies, their uniquely inlayed wooden floor and a collection of vintage objects.  Each piece is truly a one-of-a kind and comes with its own history.  I bought a candlestick.  It had variations, unique markings and small imperfections but those gave it its notable beauty and character.   We bought a pie for our lunch.  I ordered the chicken, potatoes and vegetable pie- it was so yummy.  It must have been the lard and love.

A Dream Morning

One would have thought I was walking through the gates of the Magic Kingdom but they were just the doors of Orson H. Gygi’s infamous store.   Orson H. Gygi, founder of the company, established his storefront in 1945 after years of pounding the pavement doing door-to-door sales. When Orson had enough money to open a brick-and-mortar shop, he did. He employed his family to run his business, and he himself worked on the floor until he couldn’t any longer.   Gygi’s was one our “business trip” absolutes as we had a list of speciality items only this “star studded” place (Cake by Courtney does her cake classes here) could provide. Oh we were in a fantasy right down to me buying an old fashioned sifter.  

Fiiz/Quench/Thirst And More

And so it began . . . from the city streets of Taylorsville to the Marmalade District in Salt Lake City every soda shop and Swig cookie was tested, tried and documented.  Mrs Crumb and I filled out our detailed informational sheets so we could remember all we saw, tasted and experienced.  This was the beginning of our business adventure.   Our cup holders were never lonely and the soda connoisseurs sipped happily and dutifully.

Always Improving Ourselves

Not sure how I have been receiving “word of the day” emails.  I don’t remember signing up for anything but perhaps a higher authority has notice my lack of classy verbiage flowing freely from my brain down through to my typing fingertips.  Try this one on.  I just received my email:  pervicacity.   The quality or state of being pervicacious.   Obstinacy; stubbornness; wilfulness.    Let me use it in a sentence.  I believe the other person living in my home is the perfect example of pervicacity.

And Away We Go Again

With the wow factor in place, a garland of Callahan wearing Mickey Mouse ears, the second garage party was well under way for the “all boy” turning two.  Micah knocked it out of the ball park with her cupcakes, the amazing Mickey ears cake, the biggest red, black, yellow and white balloon garland  ever and Mrs Crumbs cookie extravanza for all to taste.   Hot dog!

Dragging My Feet

There are two things that don’t mix with me and that is traveling and packing.  I love to travel but I detest packing.  Even the sight of my suitcase lying open on my bed can give me anxiety.  I’m not a procrastinator but packing puts me in the procrastinator groupie section.  I’ve tried to figure out why I hate it so much – is it because I never really know what clothes I need to take?  I always over pack for sure.  It is a weather thing – 40 degrees here vs 102 degrees there?  Do I need a sweatshirt or don’t I need one?  Finally to give me peace of mind I just start putting things in piles and stuffing them in.  Hello Target if I forgot anything and yes the sweatshirt is packed.  

One Year Out

It has been a year since those tearful few moments at the Anchorage airport  as we watched Rhea trying to make it through security.  Of all things she had a problem with her scriptures going through – what a way to start your mission.  I asked her if her mission was more than she ever thought it would be – she said “oh yes.”  Rhea said what it has done for her far exceeds what she had ever thought.    For us we see a positive, happy, spiritual woman who sees the world in ways we have to earnestly strive for each day.   Rhea has filled our homes with love, with blessings and with so much joy.  Six months to go girl – you go get ’em.  

 

A Woman’s Prerogative

I’ve had my eye on a computer backpack for awhile now.  Target of course.  When I firmly made the decision to buy it so my airport walking could be hands free the olive green one was gone.  I settled with the black one but sadly drove home really wishing I had the olive one – well black was better than none.  I fretted for a bit as I tend to do and my “all-moving-insistent-determined” mind wouldn’t let me get beyond my wish.  Twenty-four hours later I was standing at another Target customer service counter about thirty miles away exchanging the black one for an olive one.  The lady said “Good choice I like the olive one better.”    

 

It Isn’t Petty – It Matters

Do you ever have things that really bug you?  Ok I suppose that is just me but I bought this jar of Reece’s Pieces from Costco and prior to its impending departure to some little boys it has been staring me in the face.  The lifelong debate as to how to say its name continues but for right now it is  “in my head” each time I glance toward its yellow/orange/brown way  I want to say Ree-SEES where many say Ree-SIS.  The argument is over.  I googled.   I will brainwash me to the correct way.  Ree-SIS.  They were named after the man who started the company.  As it turns out, the candy is named after its inventor, a man named Harry Burnett Reese. The pronunciation of the candy comes from how Harry pronounced his own last name.  Ree-SIS.  Ree-SIS.  Ree-SIS.

A Fresh Change

Dillon cleaned out his storage unit and before returning to Hoonah said, “Hey Mom do want a nice wood armoire?”   I said yes, sight unseen but I had an idea.   I could paint it and replace it with the old one in the guest room.   Let the transformation begin.  With three romance movies keeping me company on the big screen I painted it the prettiest, subtle, calm pink to match the pillow and lamp in my black and white room.  New glass knobs twinkled closely to the small chandelier that hangs just above the bed.  So much appreciation to Dillon for feeling my need for an upgrade and the intuitive thought to even ask.