Home

These are the things I miss about home today, in no particular order: mountains, family, friends, Cafe Rio's pork salad with black beans no cilantro and tomatillo sauce, snow and the crunch it makes when you step on it, temples in every direction from my house, the countdown-to-Christmas mouse calendar that's been in my parents' house every year for as long as I can remember, radio stations that were presets on my car since I got it, the BYU-Utah rival, the flashing of porch lights to say goodbye as we drive away, IMSU and telling Mitchell, "Saved babies' lives" when he'd asked me, "What did you do at work today?", and a whole lot more.

Love you and miss you.

Yikes

Today, I had a very revealing trip to the grocery store. See if you can guess why after you read this.

"Are you finding everything alright, ma'am?"

"Let me get that for you, ma'am."

"Ma'am? Would you like paper or plastic?"

"You saved $3.56 today, ma'am."

Still wondering? Can't figure it out? Everything sounds pretty expected for the grocery store, right? WRONG! Ma'am? MA'AM?! Seriously? Someone please tell me when I crossed over into ma'am territory. I thought that word was reserved for women whose hips and thighs are evidence of the 5 kids they have at home; women who shop at Christopher Banks and Chicos; women who make sure they take a multivitamin every morning because they're worried about osteoporosis. to Am I already there? Is that who I am in the general public's eye? Please- someone, anyone- say it's not so!

The Eggplant Experiment

When you think of traditional Italian food, what comes to mind? I think of things I've see on an Olive Garden menu- spaghetti and meatballs, ravioli, lasagna, fettuccine alfredo, eggplant parmesan. I have tried and love every one of these meals, except for eggplant parmesan. I've always wanted to, but eggplant? Who is possibly tempted by a word like eggplant? Is it an egg? Hardly. A vegetable? Maybe. Some weird hybrid? Quite possibly. All I know for sure, is that it sounds absolutely horrid. But have you ever seen an eggplant? It's intriguing- its unique dark purple hue, its curved shape, its smooth outer casing. Eggplant always has appeared to me to be a very sophisticated choice, even if its name makes me want to gag a little.

One of my goals on this Indiana adventure has been to learn to cook. It's going well so far. The other day I decided I wanted to try a new pasta, but pasta is pretty basic. I mean, boil some noodles and chop some tomatoes, right? How can you make cooking pasta difficult? I don't think you can. So I decided to try a new ingredient- the eggplant. I would make sausage rigatoni with eggplant, and it surely would be phenomenal.

It was only after I bought all my ingredients that I realized I had no clue if I even liked eggplant. I'd never even tried it. It was only then that it dawned on me that it might be a bad idea to cook something with a main ingredient whose only appeal is that it appears sophisticated. Sophisticated? Who eats something based on criteria like that? Only crazy people, I'm sure. Perhaps my whole dinner was doomed to be a disaster because of a faulty connection my brain had made with sophistication and deliciousness.

But make the pasta I did. I was quite surprised to see what an eggplant looks like on the inside, and even more surprised to try a bite and find it was absolutely vile. Well, it was too late to turn back at that point. All I could hope was that it would taste better cooked and covered with lots and lots of salt, pepper, and anything else I could think of to mask that disgusting taste.

End result- not too bad. Thank goodness the rest of the recipe was marvelously delicious. I think I'll actually make it again some time, only next time substitute the eggplant with mushrooms, artichokes, or anything else that I actually know to taste good. This is the last time I will be tricked by the fascinating violet of a name-confused vegetable.

We're Not in Utah Anymore

This morning I drop Mitchell off at school, come home, and turn on my beloved Law and Order: SVU to watch while doing some dishes and folding laundry. Not too far into it though, my show is interrupted by a phone call from Mitchell. That's weird. He's supposed to be in class right now. Why would he be calling? Well of course I answer it. He asks me if I'm at home. My first thought is that he must have forgotten something and needs me to bring it to him. Umm, no. He's calling to tell me that right now our city is in the middle of a tornado warning. The law school has locked all the students in the basement until further notice. He's just calling to make sure I'm ok.

Umm, I guess so. I mean, at the moment I'm not whirling around in the air with trees, cars, and cows shooting by me. And I definitely don't see any witches, flying monkeys, or lollipop guilds nearby. Oh wait, are those descriptions part of Twister and The Wizard of Oz? Of course they are! Because those 2 movies sum up all my experience with tornadoes! I'm from Utah for crying out loud! The only natural disaster I've ever been prepped for is an earthquake. Hello! We had mountains to protect us from the wind!

So what am I supposed to do? Get in a basement? We don't have a basement! After brainstorming with Mitchell, the only other thing we've been able to think of is maybe lay in the tub or something. Is that what you're supposed to do? (Seriously, if someone knows, please pass it on. Apparently this is knowledge I need to have). Well the house isn't shaking yet, so for now I've decided just to watch the weather through the windows... which are made of glass... which can easily shatter... oh boy.

Fo about 5-10 minutes the weather was crazy outside. Pretty much I thought I was watching a tornado form in my backyard. But then again, I don't really know what a forming tornado looks like, so it might have been my fear telling me what I was seeing. Luckily though, things soon died down. Although our patio furniture is still scattered out on the lawn. I still haven't worked up the courage to go outside. I mean, what if a tornado suddenly decides to drop down? I've heard they can do that.

But you know what the one nice thing is about a tornado warning? You find out you're incredibly cared about. Apparently Mitchell texted his family to tell them what was going on here with the weather. Within 2 minutes of getting off the phone with him, both of his parents and sister called me to make sure I was safe. They truly are the best. Thank goodness for family.

Date Night with the Law

It's 8:00 on Wednesday night. Just finished work and have nothin' to do. Don't even have to go to bed early because I don't have to work tomorrow (praises!). What does this mean? Freedom! An opportunity for fun! The night is young (well, not really for me. Because even though I'm only 24 and by most people's standards that qualifies me as young, this spring chicken is yawning for her bed by 10:30. Call me lame if you want to, but it's the truth). So what am I going to do with my big night off? Let me tell you.

I'm going to pick up some food from our new favorite Chinese place (can I actually call it "our new favorite" if it's the only Chinese place we've eaten at since moving here?), meet Mitchell in a study room of the library, eat dinner and talk about the days we've had, and then proceed to update my blog while watching episodes of The Office while he reads out loud to himself, without realizing it of course, his "Civ Pro" assignment (that's "Civil Procedure" for those of you who are out of the law school jargon loop).

And you know what? I couldn't be happier about it. Because after 15 hours of being away from him today, nothing sounds better than just sitting next to him, occasionally rubbing his back- if he's lucky. Yep, life couldn't be much better if he's by my side, even if I have to use my library voice.

Mouse Trap

What do you get when you put one tiny mouse and the Rickeys together? Full scale panic, that's what. Let me tell you the story-

Apparently, for who knows how long, one little mouse has been living in our garage, chowing down on our storage of rice. Little bugger, who does he think he is?! Well obviously we couldn't let that mouse keep free loading off of us. What kind of people would we be if a measly little rodent was allowed to literally eat us out of house and home? We had to do something, right? Right. Well too bad the Rickeys are a couple of outrageous wimps about everything. I mean everything- snakes, spiders, ants, basically all bugs, baby bunnies and chicks... well no, not the last two, but almost. Needless to say, mice are definitely on the list.

We came up with a strategy of luring that mouse out into the open. It was brilliant, carefully calculated. Well when the first step of our plan actually worked and the mouse did in fact come out into the open, apparently we weren't adequately prepared for success- panic ensued. We both were running around, screaming like we were being attacked by one of those Rodents of Unusual Size from the Princess Bride, not a mouse that would fit in the palm of your hand. During our chaotic fleeing of the scene, the mouse managed to hide behind some boxes. Lovely. So for the next hour, each of us manned with a broom and mop in either hand, we moved boxes out of our garage like they were enormous pucks in a game of hockey. And after all that, do you know what? The little guy got away! So not only did he ruin our rice, he outsmarted us. Humiliating. Simply humiliating.

But don't worry, he may have won the battle, but we will win the war... assuming we somehow realize by the next battle that we are 100 times his size, his brain is the size of a pea, and he actually does not have a weapons arsenal at his disposal. Perhaps we can draw some courage from that knowledge.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Every Sunday, Mitchell and I teach a class of 4 year olds at our church- five little girls and one little boy who, already at the age of 4, recognizes he is totally outnumbered and that it isn't fair at all. I tell him it's ok though because he's going to be such a little stud some day for learning the finesse of managing a large group of women at such an early age. He doesn't completely buy it yet. One day he'll see how right I am.

Needless to say, our lessons are quite interesting some weeks with a group like ours. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of precious, tender moments where it is crystal clear why we are taught to be as little children, but there have been several times where Mitchell and I both just have to laugh right out loud. And those moments are too hilarious to keep all to ourselves. So World, enjoy the innocence of my sweet class:

Referring to Daniel from the lions' den, "Who knows who Daniel is?"
"I got a friend named Daniel."

Holding up a pink heart, "Who knows what shape this is?"
"Heart!" "A heart!" "Heart!" "Heart!" "A Heart!" "PINK!!"

"How come Jesus did such nice things for those people like bless them and heal them?"
"Because He's magic."

"What is your very favorite story from the scriptures?"
"I like the one with Pinocchio."
"With Pinocchio? Hmmm, what story is that?"
"You know, the one where he gets eaten by a whale but still lives anyway."
"Oh, you mean the one about Jonah and the whale?"
"Maybe. I just know that Pinocchio is so funny with that long nose!"

Showing a picture of Christ when he visisted the people in America, "These children weren't from Jerusalem. They were from somewhere far away. Do you know where they were from?"
"Ummm, South Carolina?"

"Do you think it made Jesus sad when those other 9 lepers didn't say thank you for healing them?"
"Yes. He probably went home and ate a whole bowl of ice cream. At least that's what my mom does when she's sad."

See, this is why I tell everyone I have the best church job in the world. How could you possibly hate teaching these kids when they're going to say stuff like this every week? I'm sure the list will go on and on. I'll keep you all posted when new favorites come up.