Gifts

While at work yesterday I received a call from a local flower shop asking for my correct address and when I would be home because my mother bought me something for my birthday. As a previous gift, my mother bought me a full size turkey breast and had it shipped to me (along with three baskets of sausage links, cheese, dried fruit and nuts). So forgive me if i was a bit hesitant. I was trying to think of all of the off the wall possibilities that could be used as a gift from the flower shop. The worst I came up with was a box of tissue paper and some string, so overall not too bad. By the end of the day, I was convinced that my mother got it right this year and was sending me some nice flowers.

I went home and excitedly anticipated my flowers. A half an hour rolls by when my doorbell rings and I open it to find a man standing there with a tree in a pot with a small purple bow stuck in the dirt. That's right, I said a TREE. The man comes in saying "Happy Birthday" and starts to explain where I should put the tree. In shock I let the man in and he starts to look around for the best place to put it. We tried the kitchen, but the ceiling was too low for my tree, so we settled with putting it smack dab in the middle of my living room (where the love sack was). A few minutes of chatting and I find out that he dropped off another tree to my brother. I started to chuckle picturing my brother standing by his tree in the middle of his house (or in the words of the guy, "a dungeon"). I said to the guy "Ha! My tree will live and his will die" in a joking manner and the man paused in his tracks and looked at me in such as way as if I had just convicted one of his flesh and blood to some horrible fate. Trying to comfort him I told him I would check on the tree every week. We said our good-byes and I walked over to the couch, sat down, and marveled at how my mom topped the turkey.

My Links

You may have noticed that I have been experimenting with my links located to the right of your screen these past few days. The reasons are twofold. Firstly, I felt smart tinkering inside the code of my blog (it is called code, isn't it?) so i have been changing the only thing i know how to. Secondly, I have been trying to decide what goes in people's links section. Seeing as how I have not yet figured that out, I am listing sites that I use everyday or so.

Firstly, the news. And what better way to find out what is going on over the pond than by reading the BBC news online. Below that link is something I find near and dear to my heart: The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. This was tough to put under BBC. Now that you all have quick access to it, I know you'll be visiting it multiple times a week. Third, we have the dictionary, to use when browsing the first two links. Then, the standard friends links. You may notice that a few people are missing from the list. this is either 1. those people have not blogged in a long time or 2. those people have not made comments on any of my blogs (all three of them). Thus, as soon as they change their sinning ways, their links will be beautifully displayed. For the last spot I want to put in a new link every few weeks that I have found interesting on the web. Currently we have Wolfgang's Vault, which has a continous free streamline of classic rock and vintage posters. Enjoy!

How my Mother Uses up her Time

I was lying on the couch today watching some silly movie set in space when my mother, sitting behind me at the computer, started to blast the Duke and BYU fight songs. I have no idea what drove her to all of a sudden look up such music but I prayed that it might cease as quick as it came. In the reflection of the TV I could see my mother's poofy brown hair (which could hold its own if ever in a fight with an afro) bobbing back and forth to the beat of a big brass band belting out the classic college notes. The music progressed in such perfect timing with my movie that during the fight scene the computer would chant "Go! Fight! Win!"

This continued with my mother repeating and bobbing with the songs until she actually started to clap her hands and sing the words to each. It is my wish that you could hear my mother sing, for mere words would not do it justice. Let's just say she sings a few notes behind and few notes off. with a lot of pain. When we mention to her of her poor singing she says "You guys used to love me singing to you when you were kids." True, true. That's when we didn't know any better and were partially deaf. My movie was complete with the trumpets blazing, hand clapping, broken dialog, warbling that composed the new soundtrack.

It worked! i am so proud of me.

i recognize that to technically savvy like Adam, Greg, or the Cookie Monster, this might not be a matter of pride, but of sheer competence. Nontheless, i got me a blog.

well, as all must know by now, I have moved to a new house (new meaning built in the times of Yore) and today I am going to my new ward for the first time. I hear that it consists of nine people, and they are really rooting for a tenth attendee, so if I skip, I will be missed. Perhaps I should think this through.

k bye

First attempt

please work