July 28, 2011


1.  I had to have blood work done the other day.
Never had that done before.
The nurse was like, This won't hurt. She lied.
Also, I'm not a huge fan of seeing needles crammed into my arms. Nor am I a huge fan of seeing all my blood sucked out via a needle crammed into my arm. Nor am I a huge fan of seeing rows of vials full of my blood lying on the counter either.
I don't know how vampires do it.
Anyway, the nurse was like, Poor thing. This is your first time doing this, huh?
I gasped for air, wheezed, clutched the edge of my chair, my eyes involuntarily rolled around in my head.
I'm not normally a wimp, I said.
I figured if she could lie about it not hurting, then I could lie about not being a wimp.
Normally needles don't bother me.
But when I said that, I remembered when I was five and Moma took me in to get my booster shots and I saw the needle and it took three people to hold me down while I screamed and screamed and then some seven year old in the waiting room told me I was a baby and stuck his tongue out at me and I hid behind the door frame of the room and glared balefully back at him with the one eye of mine that wasn't hid behind the door frame with the rest of me.
Well... sometimes needles bother me. Like when they're stuck in me, I amended.
Then I remembered the other time when I was seven and I fell off the fence, face first into the sidewalk and Moma rushed me to the doctor and he had to pick the sidewalk out of my forehead with a needle and I started to scream and Moma said, Look at me. Just look at my eyes and breathe in. Now breathe out. Now breathe in. Now out, and so long as I looked at her, I was fine.
Or, sometimes they bother me even when they're not stuck in me. Like when I think they might get stuck in me, I explained further.
Then the nurse wrapped my arm up and told me I could go.
But what about morphine? How am I supposed to get thru the day with my arm throbbing? Look, I'm having to cradle it in my other arm. I cradled my arm sadly.
She was like, It doesn't really hurt that bad.
So I put a few princess bandaids on it and slept the rest of the day.
On a scale of 1-10, my pain tolerance levels are, like, a -3.

2.  I love family.
One of the nicest things about my family is that they are thoroughly convinced that I'm uber talented.
My parents worry that if I don't copyright my blog, someone out there will steal it.
My sisters ask me to write their Facebook statuses for them.
According to them, I'm on the brink of fame.
For instance, I was taking a picture of Derek and Lisa awhile back, and Lisa said, Oh don't let her take it! She'll put it on Facebook.
And Karen said matter of factly, No, she'll put it on her blog. Everybody reads it so everybody will see it. Like 400 people read it...
Then a few days later, I was googling Pioneer Woman (because I stalk Pioneer Woman on my days off), and Wikipedia said Pioneer Woman has approximately 13 million readers a month.
Then I thought of Karen saying 400 people with her hand on my shoulder, staunchly loyal, proud of me and my brilliant accomplishments. I thought of 13 million compared to like 400.
Then I felt all my warm fuzzies start to kick in.
I'm so glad my family is mine.

3.  I've been trying harder to watch what I say.
Sometimes it's not hard. But usually... it's not the easiest thing in the world to shut my mouth when I really wanna say whatever.
I was talking to Karen one day, and she was saying, I hate to think that so-and-so is saying bad stuff about fill-in-the-blank. I wish we could just make them stop.
Yeah. I hate that too.
Then I was listening to a "Christian" husband cut his wife down to nothing and I saw the way his words made her worthless in her own eyes. Made her feel worthless to him, God, and everyone else.
And I hated that husband's words. Honestly, I hated him too.
Then I was reading Proverbs, and I kept seeing stuff like, He that shutteth his lips is esteemed a man of understanding... A fool uttereth all his mind: but a wise man keepeth it in till afterwards... He that hath no rule over his own spirit is like a city that is broken down, and without walls... The words of a talebearer are as wounds, and they go down into the innermost parts of the belly.
And that last verse is the one that really gets me, that words can be deep wounds. Wounds that hurt for years. I mean, it's like, duh... of course. It's not something I've never thought about before.
God has shown me how He will shut down the talk that shouldn't be, pronto. He doesn't let gossip, malice, swirl around without Himself taking action against it, without Him sucking the life out of evil and making those words ashes in the mouths of those who say them. Great Defender.
But what I've really been noticing in myself is sarcasm... mockery... impatient words. Words that make wounds in little hearts.
For example... I'm standing at my bathroom counter, putting on that last coat of mascara and Lucy, the queen of twenty questions, asks me, Hey Aunt Sunny. Watcha doing? Huh? And then I calmly turn to her and say, Oh, I'm just mopping the floor. You know, with my Swiffer. It might look like I'm putting on mascara, but I'm not. See? Swiff, swiff. And I make mopping motions with my mascara brush and Lucy quietly leaves the room and I'm like, Good riddance. I hate 20 questions. And Lucy cries in the other room and I huff and try to finish applying midnight black mascara but then I poke myself horribly in the right eye with the mascara brush and as my eyes water all over the place, God says, Serves you right. I hope you poke yourself in both eyes next time.
Then I hate the words I said. Then I have to apologize to Lucy.
But the damage is already done. The words are already deep in the intermost parts of her belly, poor thing.
Those are the words I'm trying to watch. I'll let you know when I've figured out how to catch the words and swallow them. I'm not there yet.

4.  Emma is praying for a princess dress. She said, How does that work? Oh, I know. God will just drop it out of the sky.
She's a Pollyanna girl after my own heart.
Bless her to pieces.

5.  Shelly told me that Marianna was being bad.
I was like, Did you beat her little hiney?
Shelly said, No. I took her blankie and cut a piece off of it and threw it away outside.
I was like, Wow. What a meanie you are.
But Shelly was like, Yeah... but then Marianna cried like her heart was broken and then I felt really bad so after she was asleep, I went outside, got the piece of blankie, and sewed it back on.
That's what I'm talking 'bout... Shelly really showed her who's boss.

July 26, 2011

just because she's cute

... and I love her and she's my niece.

July 24, 2011

two little girls

Once upon a time... there were two little girls.
Sweetheart and Turkey Butt.
They were sisters.


Sweetheart is sweet.
She likes princess, ballerina, fluffy dresses, wearing her Sunday shoes to play outside in, smiling all the time, and saying I love you.
Actually, Sweetheart likes everything. Sun! I like you! I like everything in the whole world! Only she doesn't say world, she says wee-uld.

Turkey Butt doesn't like everything in the whole wee-uld.

Sweetheart sweetly smiles for the camera.

Turkey Butt does not.

Sweetheart keeps her sucker in her mouth. Where it belongs.

Turkey Butt puts her sucker in her hair, on her dress, and all over the leather seat.

Turkey Butt tries to see if she can reach Sweetheart's hair.
So she can swirl her sucker all in it real fast before she gets caught.

Sweetheart keeps her clothes on. Usually.

Turkey Butt does not. She perfers the freedom of nudity.


The two went swimming the other day.
Sweetheart smiled sweetly.
Turkey Butt chewed on a straw.

Sweetheart continued to smile.
Turkey Butt continued to chew her straw to death.

Turkey Butt kept getting in and out while Sweetheart tried to force her to stay in.
But, Molly! Moma said! Stay. in. the. water!

Turkey Butt got stuck.
Ummm. Hey. Think you could stop taking pictures and maybe get me off the edge of this pool? It's all up in my business.

Then they had a quiet conversation together. Just sitting there on the pool, shoulder to shoulder.
Sweetheart: I love this water. Do you love the water, Molly? I love the sun. It's warm. I love the grass. It tickles my feet. I love Sun... she said I can spend the night in the morning! I love popsicles. Maybe Moma will let us have one! I love Daddy. Hey, Sun! When's Daddy coming home??? I love everything in the whole wide wee-uld. 'Cept bad guys.
Turkey Butt: *growling... straw chewing... more growling... more chewing... drooling*

I'm rather fond of Sweetheart and Turkey Butt.
They make my life happier.
I like to see them together... Sweetheart all motherly and girly and Turkey Butt all scowling and independent.
I like to see them like each other.
I also like their cute little hineys.


Sweetheart: I love the bathtub! I love playing with Barbies in the tub! I love my pink Barbie. I love the bubbles. I love washing my hair. I love everything in the whole wide wee-uld. Don't you, Molly?
Turkey Butt: *grunt... groan... fart... pushing the shampoo bottle into the water so she can squirt it all out... more grunting*

July 23, 2011

me n' them

This is my sister, Shelly.
Shelly is very tan and has Pantene commercial hair that does whatever she tells it to.

This is me.
My hair goes where it will.

This is my sister, Karen.
Karen has sparkly eyes and is photogenic.

This is me.
I'm not photogenic.

This my sister, Abby.
Abby has the bluest eyes in the whole world, and she looks like she should be on a magazine cover.

This is me.
I look like a magazine-about-beetles cover.

This is my sis-in-law, Jenny.
Jenny has a huge smile that takes in the whole room and doesn't need to wear make-up.

And this is me.
My eyes are often closed.

What am I... the red-headed stepsister???
How come they get to be all glamorous?

I comfort myself by stuffing an entire box of chocolate in my mouth all at once.

July 18, 2011

karen's family

Karen & Co. had their annual family pictures done.
I love them.
They're not quite done... there's another photo shoot this week because the pictures of the whole family together didn't turn out very well. Either Emma's shirt was falling off, or Molly was crying, or the older girls were hunching their shoulders. And none of them have been touched up yet either.
But here are some of my favs so far.

How about Tim's face right there? Cheesy.

Mom! I'm telling you... this is really awkward, and I have a wedgie.

Hi, my name is Lil... I can't help being cute.

Hi, my name is Molly... I can't help being ornery.

Tim was super happy about the photographer bringing those sunglasses. Not.

Tim and Karen. Aww.

Aww again.

The best part is that I got to take home a pair of the sunglasses...

My most favorite sunglasses ever.

July 17, 2011


Sometimes I wish I was an artist.
Like a painter.
But I can't even draw a good stick figure so... I've decided that when I get rich, I'll buy a camera. I've never been interested in photography, but sometimes I don't have the words to describe a moment. And Pioneer Woman is into photography and since I stalk her, and want to be just like her when I grow up, I obviously need to get into photography too.
And also, there's this guy at the farmer's market in Coeur d' Alene who sells his photography, and I love it. It's mostly pictures of flowers. I love flowers. He has one in particular that I really want. It's a close-up of dogwood blossoms with the sun shining thru them, and when I look at it, I feel like God is in that picture. It's something about the way the sun shines thru the flowers that gets me.
So I was like, I'm gonna go buy that picture! So I asked him how much it cost. And he was like, A hundred and fifty bucks.
Then my happy bubble was burst.
Then he said a bunch of stuff about how the picture was gallery wrapped and on some special paper that'll last for a hundred years and pretty much never fade and he said a bunch of other stuff that I didn't understand so I just smiled and said, That's cool. Then I was like, Well... see you next week when I come to look at that picture because I'm basically broke 24/7 and will never buy it. I have to buy, like, food and water and toilet paper instead. Sorry. And he was like, Feel free to come by and stare at it all you want.
I kinda had hoped he would say, Dang. You can have it for ten bucks. But he didn't.
That's the problem with being an eternal optimistic. I suffer alot of disappointment.
Maybe Bill Gates will buy it for me though, when we become best friends.

Sometimes there are moments, or things that I see, and I wish I had the words to describe those things, but my words aren't enough.
Last night, a bunch of us were at Talia's birthday party, and the kids were all running around playing in the sprinklers, and us girls were sitting under the trees talking, and the guys were grilling, then it started to thunder and rain. And when it thundered, Molly and Abby were standing at the kiddie pool together just staring up at the sky in awe. Then Molly ran off to find some other helpless kid to beat over the head with her toys. But Abby still stood there with her fat baby jaw hanging open as far as her fat baby cheeks would let it and her eyes just huge and round. Then her mama yelled across the lawn, Abby! Hear that? That's God talking to you! He's saying, Hi Abby! And Abby's eyes just lit up and she grinned like, No kidding? How cool is THAT???
I wish I had a picture of that moment. It was a moment of happy.
... her standing by the pool in her little Roxy swimsuit, smiling at her mama's words.

Speaking of happy and eternal optimism.
I get that from my Moma. She's a naturally happy person. Oh, she can get down sometimes, but it takes alot of meanness and ugly to do it.
I'm always glad she passed that particular gene down to me. I'm glad that I'm always convinced things will work out, that people are generally nice, and gallery wrapped pictures that'll last for a hundred years will only cost ten bucks. I'm happy to be a glass half full person.
But one time I got depressed, and it lasted for two years. I had taken my eyes off Him. I got depressed-er and depressed-er. Then I broke into pieces and had to ask God to put things back together.

Do you really want My help?

Yes. You'll have Your hands full... I'm not even sure where all my pieces went when they shattered. Got super glue?

I can help you, but only if you really, really want Me to. Only if you take your own hands off and let Me do it all.

At that point I really, really did want His help because I couldn't help myself so it wasn't too hard to take my hands and stick them in my jean's pockets and say, Okay. Do what You hafta.

This might hurt. I'm sorry. But when the hurt peels off, I'll wipe the tears away and put them in My bottle. Then you'll be glad.

He was right. It did hurt. But He picked up all the pieces and glued them together with His love and when He was finished I was like, Wow. Love is even better than super glue. But one thing, look at all the cracks all over me. Shouldn't they be gone? So I can be perfect?

Watch this, little one.

Then I felt myself start to warm up. Then He said, Look in the mirror.

So I did, and I saw His love shining thru all my cracks. The brightest of all lights, the light of my eyes. Like those antique crackle glass bowls that I love... you hold them up to the light and they turn all rainbowy.

I'm shiny. Like science fiction shiny.

Don't mind the cracks. You can't be perfect, only I can be that. The cracks are reminders of what you are and it gives Me a chance to glow a little more thru you.
That's when I wish I was an artist. So I could paint that picture.
... us standing there together, me in my jeans and Him with His love shining thru my cracks.
I wish I could capture the cup overflowing in a picture.
By the way...  you look pretty all shiny like that.

July 13, 2011


I created a favicon.
See it up there next to my blog address? The little yellow bird? 
I had no idea what a favicon was until yesterday. I noticed them on other websites, but just thought they were a cute little thingy for the pros. Pioneer Woman has one. The Lettered Cottage has one. Ann has one. Everybody who is somebody has one. 'Cept me.
So yesterday I was over at Fran's, and she was like, Blah, blah, favicon...
Then I wanted one, so I made one. Easy peasy. I simply stole someone else's image, stuck it in a favicon generator, downloaded, clicked on Edit Favicon in my blog design, uploaded, and... voila. Favicon shake n' bake.
The only thing is, not all browsers will show it, and I haven't figured that part out. I'm not going to either. Blogger needs to do their job and fix that glitch. Firefox shows it for me, but Fran said Safari worked better for her.
Whatever, I'm just happy with my little yellow bird.

I want a house.
Like, tomorrow.
But I still have eight months left in my lease so... I'm stuck in the fantasy stage for now.
These pink flamingos are in my fantasy garden. They kiss all day long. I've named them Fred and Harriet. Harry for short.

Speaking of fantasies.
I plan on bumping into Bill Gates someday, and he'll be so impressed with me that he'll write me check for fifty million bucks.
And I'll be like, I couldn't! It's too much! Then he'll be like, Take it. I have lots more. Besides, I'm a philanthropist.
Then all my wildest dreams will come true.
Either that, or I'll vote for Pedro.

Vote for me and all your wildest dreams will come true. 
I've been cleaning house.
First I put away my laundry. Then I washed some stuff so now I have to, like... put away laundry.
But also, you know how sometimes you have those things that aren't really sin... they just take up your time, or distract you, or bring back memories that you don't need?
I've been getting rid of those things. The clutter, the cobwebs. Cleaning house in my head and my heart.
Throwing out clothes and Cd's, blocking websites, changing the radio station, getting up earlier.
I feel so. much. better.
Like the air is suddenly cleaner.

Speaking of getting up earlier.
I hate mornings. Always have. Waking up is painful for me. I'm incoherent for about an hour after waking.
But I have to get up early for work. So I sleep until the very last second, bolt out of bed when my alarm goes off, yank on my clothes, grab a cheesestick, and run out the door.
I figure God understands that I can't read my Bible before I leave. What's He expect? Me to get up at the butt crack of dawn?
But then I feel so unprepared for the day.
I can read it when I get home, but I've gone without that spoken to.
So I started getting up an hour early. At the butt crack of dawn. It's not fun when my alarm first goes off, but funny thing... I'm fully awake within 15 min. And I love the morning air flowing thru the windows. And the silence on the streets. And the calm. And the peace. And the smell of morning. And the way I can be spoken to by Him, getting me ready for the day.
So I think maybe, just maybe, I'm starting to like the morning.

Karen sent me these pics the other day.
I can tell you right now... this girl is a rascal.

Molly wanted to go on the potty but didn't quite make it

Such an angel:)
That's all.
See ya.

July 07, 2011


We watched fireworks late Monday night at some friend's house on Twin Lakes.
It. was. beautiful.
Right over our heads, loud, big, sparkly, loud, colorful, bright like daytime, loud.
Lil said, Hey, Sun! Firs' I looked like dis (Putting her fingers up to her eyes and stretching her eyelids as far open as they'd go. Which is pretty far, by the way.) an' din I was like, WOW!!!
She was basically all-round impressed by those fireworks.

I stole this picture from Pioneer Woman.
Because I didn't take any pics Monday night.
Someone named Freckled Mommy took it.
This is exactly what some of our fireworks looked like. When Lil's eyes got big and she said WOW.

I'm one of those people who thinks everything that her nieces, and one lone nephew, does is funny.
So for the past few days, I've been working lots of places and I nonchalantly say to everyone, So how was your Fourth?
Then they say, Blah, blah, blah.
And I don't really listen because I'm thinking about how cute Lil was when she did that thing with her eyelids.
Then I'm like, Whatever. So anyway. Speaking of nieces, guess what my Lil said? She said, Hey Sun! Firs' I looked like dis (I pull my eyelids really far apart to demonstrate and look retarded) an' din I was like, WOW!
And then whoever I'm working for says, Wow. You can really pull those eyelids apart can't cha?
And then I wonder why they aren't laughing hysterically at Lil.
What's their problem-o?

Also, Emma told me she can read now.
She brought me The Cat In The Hat, pointed at the front cover, and said, Sunny! I can read this! The- cat- in- the- hat! See??? Aannnd... I can read almost one word of the inside!
Then she smiled brightly at me with her missing front teeth.
So proud of her brilliance.
Brilliant-er than fireworks.

July 04, 2011

4th of july

We had alot of food today.

Karen made: 1. Kabobs... peppers, onions, pineapple, chicken, beef, mushrooms.
                  2. Really cool ice cream sandwiches on a stick and dipped in red, white, and blue sprinkles.
                  3. Scrumptious milk and white chocolate chip cookies.
                  4. Amazing white chocolate dipped strawberries sprinkled with blue sugar.

I made: Ummm.... I painted my toenails. Red, white, and blue. By myself.

The girls painted faces. Including mine. I love painted faces. Makes me feel like an Indian. By the way, I'm like 1/16th Indian. Sioux or something.

Then we went to the parade.
I love parades too.
I'm not crazy about the crowds, but I love the whole festive feeling. All the red, white, and blue waving around.

We sang, we waved, we walked, we sweated.

These two were a hit. With me anyway.

Wasup, yo?

We took Karen's kabobs and my carefully painted toenails over to the Hansons after the parade.
Derek Hanson has problems.
You'll have to excuse him.
He can't help it.

Derek and Lisa

Talia and Karen. Friends are such a nice thing.


Emma thought she was so amazingly funny in this. I kinda agreed with her.

The Hansons have such a lovely backyard.
It's inspiring.
I was inspired to take a nap in a hammock. But Lisa doesn't have a hammock.
So I watched the kids play instead. And Derek play. And I watched Thomas see if he could spear the tree leaves with his kabob stick. And I watched Thomas see if he could launch his broccoli into the trash can from off his kabob stick. And I watched Thomas see if he could stick his kabob stick in someone's eyeball. Thomas should never have a kabob stick unsupervised.
The Hansons have a huge goldfish pond. But the goldfish are dead so the kids used it as a swimming pool. They loved it.
I loved it too. I want one.

I had my face painted, you know...
Then I put on my sunglasses...
Then I happened to glance in the mirror...

I looked kinda like a surprised beetle with those red n' white eyebrows.
Karen got mad when I scrubbed them off. She said people would've gotten a good laugh and probably waved at me alot.
But that's why I scrubbed them off. I didn't necessarily want to be laughed at. My pride can only take so much.

It was a good day.
We're all wiped out from the fun.