Bobalicious!

Bob has been in the Philippines on business for the last 2-3 weeks, and he's getting home tonight! There are a lot of reasons that I'm excited for him to come home, but here are are few:

1. I'm tired of taking care of the yard things like mowing the lawn and deciphering the aged sprinkling system.

2. Maggie and Sammi get off their game when he's gone waking up many times in the night to protect me with their ferocious barking.

3. The house gets spooky when it's just me and two edgy dogs.

4. No one's around to give me a back rub or cuddle with me!

5. I miss his classic Bobisms and hilarious songs.


I heart Bobby! Watch for him flying in a sky near you.

9/11

I would have to echo the sentiments of several other blogs I recently read about 9/11 and the shock that seven years have slipped past. I remember sitting in early morning seminary and turning on the tv when only one plane had hit and then watching, mainly in confusion, as a second plane wrapped around to hit the second tower. I remember sitting in Soffe's class first hour and watching him sit on the table in the front of the room, Birkenstocked-feet dangling, crying. I remember not understanding how to feel or what impact this would really have on my 15-year-old high school world.

Bob and I were in New York last week and we went to the 9/11 memorial museum next to Ground Zero. If you're ever in the Big Apple, I would reccomend stopping by, it was an incredibly powerful place. They had giant beams from the towers, twisted like garbage bag ties from the heat and the pressure. There were cases full of things found at in the wreckage, like a menu from the bar on the top floor, two guns melted together, a laptop bag mostly intact from a floor above 100, and a battered fireman's helmet. What struck me the most, however, was a giant wall filled entirely with missing posters. All were handmade, with snapshots from some birthday party or recent vacation, and filled with details that betrayed the emotions of those searching. Answers to the nickname of Teddy; beautiful blue/green eyes; wearing a charcoal tailored pantsuit; if found please call one of these five numbers. It made me sick to my stomach and I stood there in an unfamiliar city standing next to the man I love, feeling the pain of the city, and wondering what it felt like to be there when it was in mourning.


As we left, Bob whispered to me, "After seeing all of this, I want to go bomb some terrorists." So did I, Bobby. So did I.

A Hero to One

On Monday, instead of laboring, Bob and I (+ The Sceech) travelled to the place where fun is.  (Hint: It's Lagoon.)  We drove in under a heavy cloud cover and as we jumped out of our cars, excitement prohibiting us (alright, mostly just me) from standing still; the rain started to fall.

Soon, rain was pouring down and we ran to Wicked to hit it before the lines got long.  We had no need to fear long lines, though, we waited moments before hopping on an available car and being jettisoned into oblivion, rain pelting us as we were flung about in the cold and wet.  We rode all the rides, and the best ones several times.

I knew that the weather was changing for the better as we rode one particular rollar coaster and as we reached the top, pointing towards the sky, the clouds parted and the sun shone down on all of us, creating a beautiful moment.  Never has the warm embrace of the sun felt so inviting, and I was regretful as we began our steep descent while Bob lifted up his hands and screamed.

Bobism: On a few rides, the rain was too strong to even keep our eyes open.  Bob described the situation aptly by screaming (while upside-down), "I now know how it feels for Hellen Keller to ride a roller coaster!"

Fawsonisms

So the Fawsons (Bob's family) have a number of strange phrases. Here are a few:

- Giggins = These are presents of any flavor. Birthday Giggins, Christmas Giggins, Sorry-I-Called-You-Fat Giggins, you get the picture.

- Dippy = A specific kind of dip (Hidden Ranch dry seasoning + sour cream + cottage cheese ??? As a grafted Fawson, I am not allowed the exact recipe and can only guess at the ingredients.) Traditionally is served with Lays Ridged Potato Chips, and rarely is used with vegetables.

- Lippy = Chapstick, lip balm, any lip-applied cosmetic. Traditionally is referred to as a moisturizing agent, as in, "My lips are so chapped! Can I borrow some lippy?"

- Bousht = Carter Fawson (aged 15) the youngest Fawson. Devolution: Carter --> Buster (Don't know how that one came about) --> Bustier, until there were some awkward questions about what this actually means --> Bousht. Also can be known as Cartier (pronounced the traditional French way).

- Lushy = Shortened form of luscious. A certain extended family member says this word quite often, so the family followed suit. Luscious soon proved to be too long, so lushy came to be.


I love these Fawsonisms, and they stand out especially because they are shiny and new to me, not growing up with them all my life. (e.g. I find it perfectly acceptable to refer to the remote as the 'Mee-mo.') It's one of the best parts of joining a new family, getting to know all of their quirks and intimate details, and the Fawsons are always surprising me with more!

Rumor Mill

There have been some misunderstandings lately, so I would like to clear a few things up:

1. Bob is not gay. I know some of you think that he carries a purse and we're married for appearances. I know that there has been some gossip going around at work, but it's not true. Bob is straight, I think that I would know!

2. We are not cruel dog owners. Sometimes the most dire of circumstances requires us to use force on our dogs (kicking, spitting, name-calling). Don't judge us, we're smarter than you!

3. Storing human waste and yard clippings in a giant barrel and then leaving it for the next owners of your house is not cool. Don't do it. It's disgusting. We will hate you for it.

4. 40DDD bras make nice hats. Especially yellow ones. This isn't really a misunderstanding, just an awesome factoid.


As you can see, we've had an interesting week and hopefully we'll see more of these things.

Thank you for your time.

Regret

We keep our dogs' food outside in the garage, storing a small amount (about 1/4 of a bag) in a sealed bucket in the house for convenience. This bowl also serves as a serving platform for Maggie's food, because Bob claims it is too difficult for her to bend all the way to the ground considering her height. As much as I mock him for these claims, Maggie does eat a lot better when her food is higher, and perhaps she just likes the idea that her food is higher than Sammi's.

When we left the house on Sunday to attend our 'Sunday Party' (aka That Hot Building Where I Listen to Children Sing About Jesus) we accidentally left the aforementioned food bucket sitting out, and not hidden in its usual closet. A plastic bucket with a snap-on lid? Piece of cake for a famished Weimaraner.

We came home and she had cleaned out the entire bucket, approximately 5-8 of her regular meals in a three hour period. We found her laying on her side, her stomach ridiculously distended. She spent hours laying underneath the evaporative cooler and panting.

Bob said, "I feel so bad for her! I know exactly what she's going through, having done it to myself so many times."

Working For the Weekend

It's a pretty chill day here at work. During a meeting, we ended up talking about nerdy science videos found on the BioRad (a science products vendor) website promoting some of their more expensive products/machinery.

Rumor on the street is that a man from the FBI is coming to redeem our security clearance and then we will have a 'party.' I do not know what that entails.

I'm pretty darn excited for the weekend. Excited enough that I have nothing much to say other than to leave you with a Bobism to make your day like he makes mine!!!


Bobism: Maggie, you deserve a MacArthur Panting Grant for excellence in panting! You're like a genius but with being hot and coping with it. Congratulations! The prize is one dog biscuit.

Stalking Lessons

We have new neighbors. Our old neighbors, who we liked well-enough, but didn't want to associate with outside of church, bless their little hearts, have moved out and someone else has moved in...

We're happy with our friends here in Salt Lake, we've got great friends who are supportive and fun; but there's just something about having neighbors whose house you're excited to go over to, or whom you can rely on for an early Saturday morning bike ride.

So we've been asking around and we've found out the following:
-They are Mormon (+ So are we)
-They own a Subaru (+ Perhaps outdoorsy)
-They have a kiddy pool (- Perhaps have children which wouldn't be as ideal/+ Perhaps have a dog, awesome!)
-They are high school teachers (- Kind of bland)
-He is the swim coach at Alta High (+ Athletic, perhaps will could be persuaded to be outdoorsy)
-He teached American Government and Politics and she teaches science and math (+++ Matches our own specialties very well...)

Every opportunity we get, I insist on driving or walking by these people's house in attempt to gain more knowledge. (Will they be pretty, Will they be rich? Here's what Bob said to me.... Que sera, sera! Whatever will be, will be. The future's not ours to see, que sera, sera!)

Today's Bob-ism: "We should bring them [refer to above] cookies to invite them into the neighborhood. But the cookies will have poison in them, and only we will have the antidote. Then they will have to be our friends or else we won't save them from the poison!"