Bubblegum Car Washes...

I'm out of jail and back to blogging.  

Just kidding.  Never went to jail.  Well, once on a field trip I guess.  

I never did come up with anything to get myself into the Rigby Police Beat on my birthday.  My dad had a couple of sheep die the week of my birthday, so there would have been no shortage of sheep entrails to drip around town...but my mom said that, at least according to past Rigby Police Beats, people drop animal entrails around Rigby quite often and that I needed to come up with something more original.  And I agreed.  Besides, I'm not sure I was too excited about getting the entrails out of the sheep and into the bed of our old pickup (the only vehicle we have suitable for spreading animal parts around town).  And even if I did get the sheep guts out of the sheep and into the pickup, I think our pickup is broken down...and is about to get sold as scrap metal.  So that idea was a bust and I couldn't think of anything else at the moment.  

So no police beat for this birthday.  Sorry.  I am, however, open to suggestions for future years.

Anyway, a couple of days ago I washed my car...at one of those do-it-yourself drive in places, which, by the way, I have no idea why I did...because I can never really get my car properly washed in the allotted time my $1.50 buys me, and I end up adding more and more coins until the do-it-myself-get-my-hair-all-wet-and-end-up-smelling-like-bubble-gum-foam-soap car wash usually ends up costing me about the same as the nice let-the-machine-do-it-and-stay-nice-and-dry-and-not-hate-how-your-hair-looks-afterwards-and-not-have-wet-feet car wash.  

And while I was doing my little do-it-myself car wash I was thinking...about the foam soap...the bubblegum scented foam soap, and I thought to myself, 'why is the foam car wash soap always bubblegum scented?...seriously, how many six year-olds wash cars?'  


I don't know of any...do you?  I think they're too short.  

Rigby 911 and Birthday Wishes...

Blog reader, Jen, suggested that I do something on my upcoming birthday to get myself into the Rigby police beat.  And I thought that sounded like a fantastic, and highly entertaining idea.  The only problem is, as someday I do want need to get a full-time job, I'd like to keep my police record sparkling and clean.  I've worked so hard thus far to not have a police record, and I'd hate to ruin it now.  

So, I need your help in coming up with things I could do, that aren't actually illegal, but that would get me into the police beat.  

I thought I could maybe take our old farm truck (that is if I could get it running) load it full of animal entrails, and drive around Rigby, taking turns sharply and therefore dumping said entrails out all over the road...surely that wouldn't be illegal, but would be crime log worthy.  

But my mom pointed out that dripping animal intestines all over the road has already been done several times in Rigby and that I should do something more creative.

I can't however come up with any good ideas.  So, if you have a great idea, drop it my way...

because I'd love to be able to buy myself one of these...

for my birthday.  

The feeding of the 5000...

On Sunday, July 10th, my parents gave their mission report to a packed house at our church.  My parents, in my humble opinion, did a fantastic job on their talks.  I'm glad so many of their friends and family came to the meeting to support them. 

After church we had a little dinner (also known as the feeding of the 5000) with family and some of my parents' missionaries who had come into town for their meeting.  

We had sloppy joes and hot dogs, garnished with little Brazilian and American flags.  

We had lots of other delicious food...fruit salad, veggie trays, potato chips, crockpot potatoes, almond nut balls, cookies, and dream cake.  Yum!

It was such a nice day that most people chose to eat outside.  We were even lucky enough not to have any wind...which is pretty much a miracle in Idaho.  

It was nice of so many missionaries to make the effort to come to the report and dinner.  My mom and dad enjoyed having the chance to visit with them.  

We had seven tables set up in the basement and another two upstairs, but because it was such a nice day and the majority ate outside, we didn't even hardly use the tables we set up.  

My dad said it had always been his dream to have a stock waterer full of ice and pop at a party.  So we decided that since this would be the last time our family would ever have to throw such a big party (hopefully), there was no better time than this to fulfill my dad's dream.  When it came down to it though it was decided that an old wash tub would be a lot more classy, and Sabbath-like.  And besides, I'm not sure we had any new stock waterers on hand...and I'm not sure our dinner guests would have appreciated dingleberries floating in with their pop and ice. 

At the end of the day we found about 20 cans of pop opened up with only one sip gone...signature child move.  But it was still fun to have the pop and we were glad we could somewhat fulfill one of my dad's dreams.  

We decorated with Brazilian and American flags and beans...since Brazilians love their beans.

My mom with Aunt Ellen and grandma

My parents posed for a pic with some of the missionaries who came to their report.  

Al and Mil sipping a soda after a long and busy day.  

The party is over...now what?

Since we hadn't gotten around to taking a family picture at the airport when my parents flew in I forced (literally) my family to take a picture together at the end of the day.  The lighting wasn't particularly good when we took a picture, but oh well, a picture is a picture I guess.  

The feeding of the 5000 was a wild party...so wild in fact that my car got keyed by one of the child visitors at the party.  Since the big scratch was in the form of a "Z" I'm thinking that it might have been a child who had recently seen the movie Zorro.  

Unfortunately since I have approximately 1000 cousins who each have approximately 5000 children and approximately 95% of those children had no parental supervision approximately 98% of the time, I don't know who to blame/send the bill to for my car keying job.  

But since we have this sign...

posted in our gym, I guess I should just fine all my cousins and pay for my car repair that way.  That might not go over so well with family relations though...

So instead I think I'll just sell the car, lest I feel wrath for all my cousins and their children every time I see my car and am reminded of the incident.  

Anybody looking for a dark silver 2009 Honda Civic with approximately 32,500 miles on it and a large "Z" scratched into the rear driver's side door?  If so, let me know.  

Or if anybody wants a barely used 64 gig iPod touch I'm selling that too.  No, it wasn't damaged at the party, but I bought it just a couple of months ago and then decided to buy an iPhone so now I have no need for it.  Let me know and I'll give you a great deal.  

Peace out people.  

The task of preventing lame birthdays...

My birthday is coming up in a few weeks.  I won't say how old I'll be since that is both embarrassing and depressing, but I will ask for your suggestions of what I should do or where I should go for my birthday.  

The problem is that in the past I've been spoiled with some pretty sweet birthdays.  I've spent birthdays in Scotland, Argentina, Brazil, and Bolivia and birthdays skydiving and driving through giant redwoods, among other fun things.  I've had a lot of memorable birthdays and have spent many birthdays, including my last three, on trips.  So now I get extra sad if I have a lame birthday and I need to pre-plan to prevent a lame birthday day occurrence.   

Sadly my mom recently had a lame birthday as we were all busy getting things ready for my parents' homecoming report and for the feeding of the 5000 that would follow.  I'm glad that Lee and Kim were at least able to take my mom out to breakfast the morning of her birthday so she didn't have an entirely horrible day.  I felt bad that my mom had such a lame-o birthday.  I feel, as an only daughter, that it was my responsibility to make sure she got to do something fun...but her birthday just came with bad timing.  Sorry mom. 

And, since I'm flying solo in this life, it's nobody's responsibility but my own to make sure I have a good day.  And that's why I'm planning ahead.  

So, if you have any suggestions of what I can do for a fun and memorable birthday, please share.  It can be a suggestion of a place to go...whether near or far, or something new to do...whether extreme and crazy or normal but awesome.  

What have you done for your favorite birthdays?

Summer Happenings...

It has been absolutely wonderful having my parents back with us in the US of A.  We haven't done anything too amazing or special, but it's just been wonderful to hang out together, eat together, play games together, and for my brothers and dad...make fun of Becca together.  I guess I sort of deserved it though...we were talking about inventions recently and I said I wanted an app that turns your iPhone or iPod into a luggage scale.  I think that would be awesome, but Tyler says my idea defies the laws of physics...whatever...I bet they'll have one someday.  

And I think I may have really pushed things over the edge with the invention thing when I came in from watering flowers and mentioned that I wished there was a cordless hose, or I guess better described as a hose-less hose...I just hate having to drag a hose around and getting dirty from it and always worrying about knocking over flowers with it.  I think it would be awesome if there was some sort of contraption that took water from the atmosphere, condensed it, and then you could water your flowers with it...like a dehumidifier with a shower nozzle for watering.  I don't see what's so impossible/hilarious about my idea.  My brother's think I'm retarded for thinking outside the box, or as Tyler puts it, "thinking outside reality."  I think I'm just a misunderstood and under-appreciated person ahead of my time...like Van Gogh or Galileo.  I guess we'll just have to see what the future brings...

I hope nobody steals my ideas.  A few years ago when the compact fluorescent bulbs first came out I thought to myself, 'those are ugly and bright and burn my eyeballs out...somebody needs to invent a cover for the compact fluorescents to make them look like normal light bulbs.'  And then, less than a year later, I saw covers for the compact flourescents on the shelves of WalMart.  I should have believed in myself and patented my invention...I could be lying in the sands of St. Lucia instead of blogging from my grandma's basement!  Oh well...live and learn, live and learn.  

Anyway, wow, that was a weird tangent...

So besides making fun of Becca there's also been plenty of what my mom calls "whomping" between all the men in the family...you know, normal guy stuff like picking each other up, giving each other purple nurples, wrestling, etc.  

There have also been more normal goings-on with my family...

like the 4th of July.  We almost always go to the community celebrations in Menan.  This year was weird though...the word must have gotten out that Menan has great 4th of July celebrations because instead of the little, clean-cut, hometown celebration we're used to...this year it seemed like the 4th in Menan was just a couple of trannies short of a total white-trash freak-show.  At least the snowcones were delicious.

My mom was pumped when she scored a Lemonhead at the parade.

After the Menan celebrations, we were off to a family barbeque with my mom's side of the family.  

I made a super delicious, and therefore highly popular, strawberries & blueberries & cream pie.  I should have used white chocolate though...then it would have looked more 4th of Julyish.  

Al and Mil and the barbecue

And then we were off to our regular spot to watch the Idaho Falls fireworks with my dad's side of the family (and a few of my mom's side who we recruited to come with us).  

I loved the fireworks...they were pretty amazing.  And the accompanying music was slightly less lame and countryish than last year.  

What is it about the 4th of July that brings out the white trash in everyone...you know...the flag shorts with wife beaters, tank tops on 400 pound women, and babies wearing only diapers?  I even fell into white trash mode over the 4th when I ate approximately four hot dogs in four days.  Disgusting.  (Actually they were delicious but to save face I must pretend to be disgusted with myself.)  

The day after the 4th...which, if my calculations are right, was July 5th, my mom, dad, and I went up to the ranch in Kilgore to check things out and make sure that things hadn't been too trashed in the three years my parents were gone.  It was the first time in several years that I'd been up there, so it was nice to make the quick visit with my parents.  

Mil inside one of the cabins

More Mil

Al and Mil pose for a pic

The view of the ranch's meadow

And one more of Al

Since my parents have been home it's been fun to see them enjoy all the things they missed while in Brazil, mostly food.  They've both been full of funny little one liners.  

The first few days there was a lot of hands speedily rubbed together while saying, "It's a good day in America" from my dad.  

My mom came out of the bathroom on day two and said to me..."have you used the toilet paper here?"  To which I gave her a confused look and silence, since I use toilet paper every day.  Then my mom says, "último" and gives the double thumbs up Brazilian sign for "awesome," and a big smile.

My dad has been enjoying delicacies like sandwiches made of Harper's white bread, mayo, iceberg lettuce, and low-fat bologna.     

Yum?

And the Mexican food...oh how my parents have enjoyed the return of Mexican food.  The first three days my parents (and I) ate at Plum Loco (previously known as Mi Casa) every day.  In order to help my dad save face I won't publicly mention how many times he's been back to eat there since those first three days, but lets just say the waitresses there have been making fun of him for coming in so often.  Add to that a few visits to the Puerto Vallarta restaurant and it makes for a very Mexicany return to the U.S. 

My mom and dad enjoying their first tortilla chips and salsa since their migration back to America.  My dad said, "I think I'm like, in love," as he took his first bites of his 3-way mixed mini chimi.  

We normally have our annual "Hen and Chicks" party in April, but this year we had to call an emergency Hen and Chicks meeting due to my mom finally being home, and my cousins Cassie, Josie, Shelly, and Mardi visiting from afar.  

Two days later was my mom's birthday.  I didn't take any pictures that day because it was pretty lame as we were all busy getting ready for my parents' homecoming.  My mom said she'll be sure to make it up to herself later.  I hope she does!

The next week my dad had one of the best days in his adult life when the first of his flock began returning from the various, as I call them, "sheep babysitters," who were caring for his sheep while he was away.

Anyway, that's our summer so far.  I love summer in Idaho.  It's Idaho at its best.  I love the hometown rodeos, the barbecues and picnics, the family parties, playing and working outdoors, the sunshine, the raspberries, etc.  Idaho has the most perfect summer weather and I plan to stick around and enjoy it all...and then skip town as soon as winter comes.  I don't like Idaho winters.  But, I'm enjoying summer while it's here...I hope you're enjoying yours too, even if you aren't fortunate enough to spend it in Idaho!

Welcome Home Al and Mil!

The blessed day finally came...the end of three super duper long years...

hallelujah!

But before we could welcome my parents home there was a lot of work to do...lots and lots of work.  As soon as I got over my Indian jet-lag I headed over to my parents' yard to see what I could do to help make it beautiful and, in the little less than three weeks I had from the time I returned from India until my parents' return, I spent hours and hours and days and days working in the yard.  The bad thing about this was that my back really hurt after so much yard work...the good thing though, was that I was able to keep my Indian tan in a nice and bronzy state...well as bronzy as a white blond with moley pasty skin gets.  

Anyway, my parents hired some yard people to help out, but that didn't go so well.  The first day they came, one of my brothers saw them steal an old machete that he'd purchased at Smith and Edwards back in the day when every family trip to Utah included a stop at Smith and Edwards, which then resulted in the purchase of really random things like my lucky Elvis is Dead...Deal With It! t-shirt, old army equipment, rodeo costumes, machetes, and lots and lots of candy and other snacks...the candy later leading one of us to overindulge and barf.  Good times!  

Anyway, so the next day I asked our Hispanic yard helpers in English if they'd seen an old machete over by the shop.  Here's how the conversation went, with the English part of the conversation in normal print and the Spanish portions in italics.

Me: "Did you guys see an old machete over by the shop?"

Mexican #1 to Mexican #2: "Oh yeah, that's the one we took the other day."

Mexican #2 to me:  "Yes, we will bring it to you."

A few minutes later...

Mexican #1 brings me the machete and in broken English says: "See, we were using the machete to trim the bushes and cut the edge of the grass."

Me to myself: 'Yeah right...that machete hasn't cut anything since about 1974.'

Me to Mexican #1: "Oh, okay."  (and a big smile and nod to make him believe that I believed him)

Mexican #2 to Mexican #1: "Did she believe you when you told her that we were using it to work on their yard?"

Mexican #1 to Mexican #2: "Oh yeah, I just told her that we picked it up to use on their yard...she doesn't think that we stole it."

Two hours pass during which I worked planting flowers right next to los Mexicanos as they weeded nearby.  I listened in on their conversations...about the machete...about how they were mad that they had to cut out the grass from the landscaped areas...and about some guy named Fernando.  

Then I decided the moment had come...to bust out the Espanol.  So I say to Mexican #1 in Spanish: "Where are you guys from?...I heard you speaking Spanish."

Mexican #1 (with a "just pooped my pants" look on his face) stammers:  "Oh, you speak Spanish?"

Me: "Sí."

Mexican #1: "Mmmmexico.  We're from Mexico."

Mexican #1 then walks over to Mexican #2 and informs him that the girl that they'd been speaking Spanish in front of for at least two hours also speaks Spanish.  

Mexican #2 to Mexican #1: "Yeah, but do you really think she understood what we were saying?"

Mexican #1 to Mexican #2: "Yes, she speaks very well."  

Silence.  

Then I left for the day and they never did show back up the next day to finish the job.  I guess they were embarrassed and quit.  Too bad though...they were pretty nice guys, despite their thieving ways.  

Dear Mexicans, 

Spanish is the second most spoken language in the world...not some secret code language.  Remember that next time.  

Love, Becca

Anyway, even without the help of los Mexicanos, we got the yard looking pretty decent and I got my goal done and got all the flower beds cleaned out and planted and also got my mom's flower pots planted.  

The morning of my parents' return I, with the help of our tall skinny cowboy neighbor, my friend Lorina, and her 12ish year old son, hung up a big "Welcome Home" banner over our road.

Anyway, we got the giant banner up and it looked awesome.  Right then anyway.  Unfortunately, due to the Idaho wind, it didn't look so awesome by the time my parents got home.  Oh well, I guess it's the thought that counts.  

I put some finishing touches on the house with Welcome Home posters, flowers, bowls of peanut M&M's and Whoppers(the candy, not the hamburger) on the table, and a fridge stocked with milk, Reed's Dairy chocolate milk, cottage cheese, pickles, low fat bologna (as requested by my dad), etc.        

And before I knew it, it was time to head to the airport.  Their official landing time was 2:43 P.M., but I wanted to get there by 2:15 to decorate the airport a bit, stake out a spot for all our relatives to gather in, and just to make sure I was on time.  But, their flight was late...so we got to wait another 15 minutes or so...but 15 minutes is nothing after waiting three years!  And boy were we all excited for Al and Mil to come home!

As excited as I was to have my parents home, it seemed kind of unreal that they were actually coming home.  They'd been gone for what seemed like an eternity, and it felt kind of weird waiting at the airport, knowing that, after being gone so long, they'd be back with us in just a few minutes.  I kind of didn't believe it...until I saw them through the glass doors coming down the escalator...and then it felt real...

they were here!

My parents were super excited to be home even though they were exhausted from the long flight...I think the kid in the picture with them was super confused about what was going on and how he got stuck in the middle of it. 

My mom was super happy to see us all!

Here she is with two of her sisters and her mom.  I hardly have any pictures of my dad's side of the family from the day as they are not as cooperative with posing for pictures as my mom's side is.  But my dad's side of the family was there too...there's just not much evidence of it.  

My dad and I at the airport.  He wasn't feeling too great when they flew home, but it wasn't anything a trip to Plum Loco and a good night's sleep couldn't fix.  

The attendees...at least the ones who didn't leave before we took the picture.  

We're so excited to have my parents home safe...we can't get enough of them!  In fact the first few days I found myself following my mom around everywhere she went. I think I may have even accidentally followed her into the bathroom a time or two.  Sorry mom!

Welcome home Al and Mil...welcome home!

Back from the land of bobble-headers...it's Becca's Blog!

Hello earthlings.  


After a fantastic month in India, and a long trip back (Kolkata to Frankfurt, Frankfurt to Chicago, Chicago to Denver, and Denver to Idaho Falls), I'm finally back home in the US of A.  And now it's time to:


1) get ready for my parents' return in 15 days!
2) finish blogging India (as well as other trips I haven't yet blogged)
3) work on my to do list... particularly that ever-present task of "figure out what to do with the rest of my life"...I always seem to be working on that one and never seem to get it checked off.  


Although I won't miss: dodging loogies, getting bamboozled, train stations, filth, rats, power outages, and sadness...I will miss a lot of things about India.  


Like the Indian bobble-head.  

Indians bobble-head...a lot.  So some stereotypes are true.  When an Indian bobble-heads to you it can mean several things...

It may mean "yes"

It may mean "maybe"

It may mean "no"

It may mean "I don't know"

But really it means, "I want to please everyone by remaining neutral on everything, so I'm not going to give you any type of a strong answer in any way...especially a strong "no"."  So frustrating!

And sometimes Indians bobble-head just when they're talking and not giving an answer...maybe it's out of habit or maybe their neck muscles are just really loose...I don't know.  Like when the McDonald's employee said to me, (we only went to Micky D's once...I promise...we just wanted to see what a beef-less McDonald's menu would be like) "ma'am, if you are wanting your Maharaja Mac without cheese you will be having to wait five minutes."  And he looked so sad...to make me have to wait five minutes.  But I was glad to wait five minutes if it meant that I wouldn't have to have my Maharaja Mac covered in that fake bright orange "cheese" that McDonald's uses everywhere in the world.  

Anyway, as frustrating as the bobble heading can be, I'll kind of miss it.  

And Indian food.  Oh how I'll miss the food.  Even though a couple of times I had to say "fire, fire, fire" to Marissa as I fanned my mouth and quickly reached for some water to extinguish the burn in my throat.  I especially will miss the daal and naan.  I love daal and naan...probably because they are pretty mild in spice.  I've always liked Indian food, but I thought I only liked Americanized Indian food.  Before I went to China several years ago I thought..."ooh, yummy, I'm going to love the food in China because I really like P.F. Changs, Fongs and the Canton."  But then I got to China and realized that what I liked was Americanized Chinese food, and not Chinese food from China...the real Chinese food was mostly scary and disgusting.  So I thought the same would apply to Indian food.  I thought that even though I liked the Indian food I've tried in the U.S. and U.K., that I wouldn't like real India Indian food.  


And I think I thought..."it will be an awesome month in India...I'll see the sights, dislike the food and starve myself a bit, and hopefully will pick up a tapeworm or other weight-loss inducing parasite...I'll for sure lose at least five or ten pounds during my month in India."  


And I have to admit...I even had already daydreamed a little about the tapeworm I was sure I'd come home with.  I was going to name him Tim...Tapeworm Tim.  And then after he took up resident in my stomach and sucked all the nutrition and fat out of me, thereby changing my life, I'd write a book about him called "Thank you Tapeworm Tim," and then I'd go on the Today Show and talk about how a tapeworm changed my life...and then I'd sell that book, along with little hermaphroditic proglottid pieces of Tapeworm Tim so that other people's lives could be changed for the good as well.  I guess I daydream about weird things.  


But instead of disliking the food...I liked it.  And instead of coming home with a nice little parasite, all I came home with was a heinous rash on my arm and a sprained ankle.  And I didn't lose a pound...not a single pound.  So much for the India diet...it doesn't work...at least not for me!  Another shattered dream...


Oh well.  I'll blog more India later.  In the meantime...remember not to be a blog parasite yourself!  My blog gets tons of hits every day and very few comments...and I know that all my blog hits can't be from just random Chinese people.  So, don't be a leech!  I may love tapeworms (or the thought of getting one) but I despise leeches!  Oh how I despise leeches...