Our Home Owners Association discovered the secret to truly horrifying Holloween decorations. The trick is, the less the spookier. And by less I mean one. A single gravestone nestled in the corner bushes. No name, no death pun, just a skull and cross bones with the dates 1890-1921. I would think there was an actual 31 year old buried beneath the bushes if the marker weren't made of cardboard. I checked the other corner bushes and found no goofy spider webs, tissue paper pumpkins or over-sized spiders. Just the one cardboard gravestone partially hidden in the bushes. Guys, maybe it IS real, and the mass murderer who buried his (yes, I'm assuming it's a man) victim there ninety-one years ago knew that if he marked the grave with cardboard everyone would assume it was just a silly holiday decoration and he totally got away with it.
Happy Halloween?
Showing posts with label holidays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label holidays. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Friday, April 6, 2012
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
california raisins
3 years ago today Stephen and I went skiing for our first real date.
2 years ago Stephen and I went skiing and he proposed.
And now this V-day we're skiing the slopes of parenthood. Yikes. That was really rough. Forgive me.
Her face reflects how most of us feel when wearing an accessory for the first time. Is it too much? Am I trying too hard? I've assured her that while yes, sometimes headbands are overpowering, this one is the perfect size to add a subtle, feminine touch to her ensemble.
Happy Valentine's Day, lovers.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Monday, December 19, 2011
make my dreams come true
Last night was the annual Morley Family Gingerbread House Building Extravaganza! The name is a bit of a misnomer since we've never actually used gingerbread and instead of houses we usually construct abstract imitations of the world's greatest structures. It's always one of my favorite nights of the year as well as one of the most frustrating. The same thing happens to me every time. I have BIG ideas. I get really excited about creating my graham cracker interpretation of stone henge or Trump Tower or whatever, and then about forty five minutes in I remember that I am not an artist, that graham crackers break, and that there are not enough gum drops in the world to make up for my lack of architectural know-how. Sometimes I give up, start over and make a quaint winter cottage with a peppermint wreath. Sometimes I suck it up and finish the job I started. Like this year:
It's the Great Wall of China. Obviously.
When my dad saw my finished product he asked, "Is it a garbage barge?" Sigh.
The other Morleys (and one Walter) seemed to fare somewhat better than I, as is usual.
Stephen's space plane with a little Ziggy Stardust
Hannah's winter manor
Carey's nursery
Brad's church (nondenominational)
Nick's...I'm not sure what this is.
These bears at a campfire wish you a Merry Christmas.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
For the holidays you can't beat home sweet home.
I almost spelled that title "you can't beet home sweat home." Do beets sweat? Do vegetables perspire?
Also, how hard is it to create a Christmas playlist that excludes Mariah Carey? Huh, Pandora?
Finally, The proof is in the pudding. What proof? What pudding? What murder mystery was solved when the inspector, addressing a dining room full of dinner guests, pulled out his magnifying glass and declared, "Aha! The proof is in the pudding!" and then pulled a bloody dagger from a trifle?
In the name of practicality, we at the Walter residence are forgoing Christmas decor this year. It makes sense since we're here for just another week before heading West once again. Stephen is more than ok with it since he likes Christmas about as much as he likes sweaty beets. Ollie hasn't said anything about our apparent lack of holiday cheer. I promised Ivy we'd have a tree next year, and she seems cool with it. Really, it's just me that's wrestling with our grinchiness. Last week at Target I put the same wreath in my cart then removed it three separate times. Ultimately I bought four baby onsesies instead of a wreath, but I may go back.Unless you validate my practicality, Internet. Guide me.
Fun fact, I had to google the spelling of the following words for this post:
beat
beet
sweet
sweat
forgo
separate
wrestle
wreath
School, you failed me.
Also, how hard is it to create a Christmas playlist that excludes Mariah Carey? Huh, Pandora?
Finally, The proof is in the pudding. What proof? What pudding? What murder mystery was solved when the inspector, addressing a dining room full of dinner guests, pulled out his magnifying glass and declared, "Aha! The proof is in the pudding!" and then pulled a bloody dagger from a trifle?
In the name of practicality, we at the Walter residence are forgoing Christmas decor this year. It makes sense since we're here for just another week before heading West once again. Stephen is more than ok with it since he likes Christmas about as much as he likes sweaty beets. Ollie hasn't said anything about our apparent lack of holiday cheer. I promised Ivy we'd have a tree next year, and she seems cool with it. Really, it's just me that's wrestling with our grinchiness. Last week at Target I put the same wreath in my cart then removed it three separate times. Ultimately I bought four baby onsesies instead of a wreath, but I may go back.Unless you validate my practicality, Internet. Guide me.
Fun fact, I had to google the spelling of the following words for this post:
beat
beet
sweet
sweat
forgo
separate
wrestle
wreath
School, you failed me.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Monday, October 31, 2011
BOO
Don't cry, it's only a blog post.
Stephen and I have decided to pass on any real holiday celebrations this year. We really look forward to to putting a ten-month old in some adorable costume next year, but feel very little desire to make any effort this October 31. So while Stephen is home studying, I'm in Utah for a couple days. If you're a Utah resident, I love you and I want to see you, but I want to see you over Thanksgiving or Christmas when I have more than two minutes to spend with you.
It turns out that air travel is a complete faisco no matter how short the flight. Turns out that even if you're flying for fifty minutes from Denver to Provo, and even if you're 7 months pregnant and unable to bend over, you still have to take off your boots to go through security. Yes, it takes ten minutes to take them off, and another ten to put them back on. However, if 7 months pregnant, you do not have to go through the full body scan, though I like to think that Ivy would have waved to the good folks of TSA.
There's that moment when, after you've heard your fellow passenger's complete life story, you realize that there's thirty minutes left in the flight you have nothing left to ask or say. You stare out the window, pretending to take in the grandeur, but instead really focusing on the smudged glass and wondering what disgusting human caused it. You pull out your mobile electronic device and act like trying to beat solitaire is the most important thing you've ever done. You occasionally say "I hope we land soon," or "I wish they gave us more than half a drink," and then fall back into silence. You wonder, "Am I completely incapable of human interaction?", "Am I as awkward as I fear?", "Yes. I am," you decide and sip your gingerale in horror.
Happy Halloween!
Stephen and I have decided to pass on any real holiday celebrations this year. We really look forward to to putting a ten-month old in some adorable costume next year, but feel very little desire to make any effort this October 31. So while Stephen is home studying, I'm in Utah for a couple days. If you're a Utah resident, I love you and I want to see you, but I want to see you over Thanksgiving or Christmas when I have more than two minutes to spend with you.
It turns out that air travel is a complete faisco no matter how short the flight. Turns out that even if you're flying for fifty minutes from Denver to Provo, and even if you're 7 months pregnant and unable to bend over, you still have to take off your boots to go through security. Yes, it takes ten minutes to take them off, and another ten to put them back on. However, if 7 months pregnant, you do not have to go through the full body scan, though I like to think that Ivy would have waved to the good folks of TSA.
There's that moment when, after you've heard your fellow passenger's complete life story, you realize that there's thirty minutes left in the flight you have nothing left to ask or say. You stare out the window, pretending to take in the grandeur, but instead really focusing on the smudged glass and wondering what disgusting human caused it. You pull out your mobile electronic device and act like trying to beat solitaire is the most important thing you've ever done. You occasionally say "I hope we land soon," or "I wish they gave us more than half a drink," and then fall back into silence. You wonder, "Am I completely incapable of human interaction?", "Am I as awkward as I fear?", "Yes. I am," you decide and sip your gingerale in horror.
Happy Halloween!
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
i really can't stay
Season's Greetings from Colorado!
At last, the white Halloween we've all been dreaming of. This premature snow fall is actually easing my guilt about the lack of autumny decor up in here. The only Fallish thing I've done is buy a bag of candy corn and pour it into a bowl. Since I'm the only member of the Walter household who eats candy, it's me v. the candy corn as I attempt to guage how long it should take a normal person to consume an entire bag. 3 days?
Baby Ivy is due three months from today. Last night she got so excited about her arrival that she started hiccupping. Ok. Fine. I'm projecting emotions onto a fetus. But I promise it's better than the truth. The truth is that she swallowed too much amniotic fluid. See? Gross.
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