here's the church, here's the steeple

on Wednesday evening i was out talking with our next door neighbors, Lee and Leona (a newly married couple in their sixties who work for the county). they're nice folks and they watch out for us. anyway, Leona is from Delta and she was telling me about some friends of hers out there that had recently bought a new house - a church house actually - and had made it into their home. i was envisioning one of those old pioneer churches like the one in Pine Valley that would work as a house. but it turns out these friends of theirs actually bought a ward building for $50,000.00 and are living in it... just the two of them.

so what the heck, right? totally! well, they've made the chapel into a bedroom - but not their bedroom - Lee told me in a rather matter of fact way that they sleep in one of the other rooms. i didn't find out which one but i bet it's either the YW room or the Primary room. the cultural hall is the t.v. room - that's a no brainer - and they also host the family parties in there. oh, and they put their Christmas tree on the stage - Lee told me that part twice. they've got the huge parking lot surrounding them so there's no traffic to speak of but the do have three skunks living under the church. it wasn't clear whether or not they caught two of them, but the guy got sprayed. he had to throw all of his clothes and his wallet away. i asked them if he had to bathe in tomato juice and Leona told me, with a huge grin, yes... in oodles and oodles of tomato juice.

sometimes i forget that i'm a painter

after a hiatus of sorts, i've started painting again... still exploring the elevated plastic idea. i finished this one on Tuesday.


it feels really good.

also, English has been working on getting the two grocery stores here in Ephraim (Kent's and Wal*Mart) to start crediting folks 5¢ for each bag of their own they bring for their stuff. that would be great!

happy father's day

can Superman read minds?

okay, okay. about a month ago English and i were ranch-sitting again so we had access to cable tv. no, i didn't watch more Top Model (although i definitely could have) but i did watch Superman - the one from 1978 with Christopher Reeve. it had probably been a good fifteen, twenty years since i'd seen it last and i was surprised at how much of it i remembered: Lois making fresh-squeezed oj in her office, the helicopter dangling from the skyscraper, Lex Luthor putting the Kryptonite around Superman's neck and his assistant rescuing him from the pool (but not without a kiss first). i even remembered the interview that Superman gave Lois when he told her she was wearing pink underwear and looked through her to see her healthy lungs that weren't yet damaged by her smoking habit.

but folks, what i did not remember was the ridiculous poem that Lois's mind recites when Superman takes her for a fly after the interview. if you can picture the scene... Superman and Lois are sailing through the night sky above NYC, passing through clouds, dipping down near the Statue of Liberty, Lois even slips free of Superman's grip and starts plummeting for Earth (no worries, Superman saves her for sure). but as they're flying with the wind blowing through Lois's hair and chiffon dress and Superman's curl and cape, Lois starts narrating what you think is just stream of consciousness. but no, it's a poem of sorts:

Can you read my mind? Do you know what it is that you do to me?
I don't know who you are. Just a friend from another star.
Here I am, like a kid out of school. Holding hands with a god. I'm a fool.
Will you look at me? Quivering. Like a little girl, shivering.
You can see right through me. Can you read my mind?
Can you picture the things I'm thinking of?
Wondering why you are... all the wonderful things you are.
You can fly. You belong in the sky. You and I... could belong to each other.
If you need a friend... I'm the one to fly to.
If you need to be loved... here I am. Read my mind.

wow! or is it yikes!? and do you feel that uncanny feeling of eighth grade English class? or maybe it's a flashback of the poem in Cipher in the Snow.

everybody sleeps, everybody sleeps...

every night we close our eyes
until the morning creeps
mountaineers on mountain tops
and divers in the deep
they like to sleep
how we you know it's so
'cause everybody, everybody sleeps

sleep is a big deal around here these days. just short of keeping a sleep log, i'm well aware of how much and how well everyone in the family is sleeping. this last week we've been making a sleep transition with Ash so i've been getting tips and advice from several sources. one of the things i've read talks about how the sleep habits we develop as a baby/child affect the way we sleep as a teen and even an adult. this got me wondering about the habits i developed as a child and how and if they affect me now.

i don't remember naps - that's not to say i didn't take them - but i don't remember taking them. except this one time, i remember very well: my mom told my sister and i that it was nap time, she closed the curtains (which created this weird half lit room - i remember that very well) we laid down on our beds on top of the covers, and she told us to go to sleep. well, my sister and i shared a room so we just looked at each other, then at the ceiling, then at the curtains, then at the ceiling... then we got up. but that was once. what i remember more is being very quiet sitting in the kitchen learning how to tie my shoe or hiding on the stairs (great hiding place) trying to blow a bubble with some big pink gum i wasn't supposed to have while my mom was taking a nap. oh, and i would always try to fake like i was asleep after driving home in the evening so Mom or Dad would carry me inside. i probably fooled them two or three times.

and now, all i really know is that it takes me a lot longer to fall asleep than it does for English to fall asleep and i have a thing called the sleep demon*.

so what does that mean for Ash? well, as far as i can tell she's a pretty good little sleeper and i don't think i can take much credit. she's been way smarter than me from the beginning. my only concern is that we'll be swaddling her until she's fifteen.

* sleep demon (n): an irritable spirit or fiend that inhabits the bodies of those who do not want to be awake, usually for only a short time, but can last up to several minutes. She was possessed by the sleep demon when someone woke her up from a much needed nap to ask her a silly question. do not provoke.