Monday, February 19, 2007

The History of Italian food in Wales

After staying up until midnight talking to my sister on the phone, and then finishing up a few things around the house, Andrew and I went to bed with a deep, dark cloud looming over our heads. That deep, dark cloud was that we had to get up early in the morning but were going to bed so late (not a good way to become healthy, wealthy, or wise).

At 6:21 am, the alarm clock went off. Ugh...Andrew hit snooze. Our snooze button lasts for 9 minutes before it goes off again, which is why our clock was set to 6:21. That allows 1 snooze before we absolutely must get out of bed. But, that 1 snooze was not quite enough, so Andrew hit it again at 6:30. And then again at 6:39.

I am always paranoid that he is going to turn off the alarm instead of hitting snooze and that we'll both fall asleep again and not be able to get our day started so I can't really sleep during the snooze time. But this morning I kind of dozed off...when I woke up again, I could see that dawn was approaching, which is good since that means that spring is coming, but also bad because it meant that I had slept long enough for the darkness to become light-ish.

I rolled over to see what time it was (it was 6:47), and just as I rolled over, Andrew burst out laughing.

"What?" I asked, a little grumpy that he wouldn't get out of bed and shower. I didn't have to get out of bed, see, because I had showered on Saturday, the day we get ready for Sunday.

"You're so stupid!" Andrew replied.

"Excuse me?" I demanded.

"Yeah..." he said and then started snickering again.

"Andrew," I said, "I think you're still sleeping."

"No," he insisted, "We're not. You just asked me to do the stupidest thing."

"No, Andrew," I insisted firmer than he did, "We've been sleeping and apparently you've been dreaming."

"No," Andrew clarified, "We've been talking. You just asked me to research the history of Italian food in Wales. That's so stupid. They don't have Italian food in Wales. Wales is a Welsh towning community."

With that last sentence, I knew that Andrew was still asleep.

"Andrew!" I said, while shaking him, "Think about what you just said."

"What? Huh? Stop. What?" He asked, confused.

"You just said, 'Wales is a Welsh towning community.' That makes no sense."

"Oh," he said, "That was weird. I dreamt that we were laying in bed talking and you asked me to research the history of Italian food in Wales. That's so stupid. They don't have..."

"I know, Andrew," I said, "You were talking in your sleep."

And with that marvelous start to our day, we proceeded to get ready to depart for...Wales, actually. His dream kind of made sense since we were going to Wales for a family party at his Aunt Dorothy's place because his cousin Michelle is leaving for England for a mission. And, since all I crave is tomato-based foods, it makes sense that he would dream about me researching the history of Italian food in Wales, right?

Probably not.

Anyway, we were right ready to go by 7:30 am and, after his family met us at our house so we could take Emily in our car so that there would be room for both Richard and Diana in the van, we followed them through booming Sanpete County, which isn't really booming, really. I am pretty sure they have more cows than people. It's still a nice county, there's just no one there.


So, we get to Aunt Dorothy's house and I immediately get attacked by a vicious and ferocious puppy. It was muddy and I was wearing a white skirt so this really was quite a dilemma. Luckily, I fended it off with my purse until Katherine came to rescue me (Andrew was carrying a big cooler into the house so he was excused). Oh, by the way, we later found out (after the dog, who is the neighbor's, followed someone into the house) that it has a biting problem, so it really was vicious and ferocious.

Anyway, then we walked to church and I collected enough burning barrel smoke in my hair to make me feel embarrassed, even though I'm sure everyone else smelled exactly the same way.

Michelle gave a good talk about preparing to be a missionary...

After church we went back over to Aunt Dorothy's (Andrew and I ran all the way home trying to race the van, carrying a sick Sarah, and almost got attacked by that puppy again. Luckily the puppy was too distracted by everyone else that he didn't notice me and my white skirt).

We had a wonderful lunch and some nice visits...and I held Andrew's cousin's baby who is only a month old and is just an angel. It's official. We want one.


After I surrendered the baby (the stars are there because a long period of time elapsed before I would let the baby out of my arms), Andrew and I herded all the "kids" into the mini-van and drove home, leaving our car for Karen so that she could visit with her sisters without the "kids," the youngest being 15 and the oldest being 22, so I'm not sure they are really "kids" anymore.

We would have pictures to put up because we actually got the camera all ready to go this morning. Unfortunately when we came home it was waiting on the couch, looking rather dejected, if you ask me.

Luckily, Aunt Lynnea had her camera and was snapping away so the event was recorded digitally...oh, and Andrew also took quite a few pictures with Sarah's cell phone (mostly of his tongue).


As soon as we got home, we settled in for a long afternoon's nap. We didn't wake up until Karen came to the door to exchange keys with us. It's a good thing she came to the door, too, because we were both so tired we would have slept clear until tomorrow.

Instead I got up with enough time to eat a little something and then run over to the stake center and prepare for a primary "Faith in God" fireside. I think it went over fairly well. Man, I was tired afterwards though.

For a treat we had brownies which meant that there were smashed crumbs all over the gym floor (luckily it's hardwood!) so we had to scrape it all off. Even though I'm not that much bigger than I used to be, it definitely was not very much fun to be bending over doing that for an hour (yes, an hour) while being 4.5 months pregnant and wearing a skirt. I was glad when we all agreed the floor was clean. Sunday, a day of rest?

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