PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT

This is a public service announcement for all my relatives, friends and most especially my nieces and nephews on Facebook. I think that you all need to be aware that my mother (the seventy year plus old woman) is a Facebook snoop.

I know what you thought, that like so many of your friends on Facebook, she logged in one day on a whim, created a profile, and moved on after friending you. Well, that is where you would be mistaken. You see, she used to get on with her laptop a couple times a week, but then in August she bought herself an iPad. There is no going back. The old woman is on Facebook all the time, she snoops around on your pictures, your comments, and even your friends. She knows how to wiggle around to look at everyone else's profiles too, but she doesn't make any comments, she won't like your status, and she never shares anything either.

So this is just to let you know, before you post that picture of your new tattoo, make off color remarks, or change your status...Harriet is watching.

P.S. The woman also reads blogs, and this will tick her off, so I will post this and go get my phone. Expecting a call in T- 5, 4, 3...

Snobs

My family is a bunch of snobs. Not the " I couldn't possibly be caught at Walmart" type snobs. No, because my family is pretty nerdy, we are office supply snobs. One of the most dangerous places for the Dederick family and their checkbook to go to is the office supply store. It's been building for years, but here is a summary. I'll go oldest to youngest:

Scott-a paper snob. Scott has a super nice laser printer, and he only likes 32# or better paper. Usually it needs to be Hammermill or HP, but the 24# will never cut it.

Allison-well, I'll admit I love all office supplies. But I'm a snob when it comes to file folders. I really don't like manila colored file folders. I like the pretty ones that only come 3 or 6 in a pack. I know that once they go in the file you can't see them, but I don't care. I also really like the designer binder clips, and any funky jump drives I can find.

Emily-a messenger style book bag snob. Emily packs (seriously) about 40lbs of books everyday. As a result she used to go through book bags like crazy. Now however we spend big bucks (and time) combing through the attaché, briefcase, messenger bag section of our local office supply stores. They have to be roomy enough and have the right closure, not to mention the strap has to be just right...yeah, snobby.

And Erik-(the reason I realized we were snobs the other day), who is a mechanical pencil snob. I stood in the office supply store on Friday night with glazed eyes as my son explained the various virtues of a 0.7mm lead over a 0.5mm lead. Although discovering the new 0.9mm pencil was exciting and he did want to purchase one package of these, but insisted on the standard 0.7mm package also, just to be on the safe side.

I know...we are nerds, but at least we are snobs in our nerdi-ness!

When I Die

I have a lot of dead relatives. In some ways it's probably good, how else would you find chairs for everyone at Thanksgiving? But, in some ways, bad because there are a some of those relatives I wouldn't mind seeing again. Well, in case you are new to my ramblings, one of the many things my gene pool is famous for is telling stories. Of course the stories get much better with time!

Anyway, we love to tell stories about our family, both the living and the dead. But, I have noticed that many times when we talk about some of the dear departed we tend to overlook a lot of their faults. Oh I know the whole "don't speak evil of the dead" thing, but the reality is that the those that are on the other side of the veil, had just as many foibles, shortcomings, and times when they dropped their basket as the rest of us.

My Dad was awesome, he is still awesome, but the truth of the matter was that he littered (copiously), he transported illegal fireworks across state lines, and he had been known to shoot deer without a license. And one time, I even saw him cut down a tree and it fell right on on his open pickup door. So despite what my Mother and sisters claim, he wasn't perfect.

My sister Ellen suffered for so many years with her chronic illness, but I'm pretty sure none of us can say she did it without a complaint. My Grandparents accomplished so much, but they had a few glitches too. Even my dear venerated ancestors that crossed the plains, I am sure, had a few faults. After all they didn't leave Nauvoo because they thought it would be a great adventure to journey in the wild west, they left because they were thrown out by the mobs.

I think at times we do ourselves and our children a dis-service when we make folk heroes out of their progenitors. After some of the stories I was told as a child there was no way, I knew, that I was ever going to measure up. Ten feet tall and bullet proof is a great story but the reality is that most of those people were just that, people. They would probably be extremely embarrassed about the way we have built them up. My ancestors struggled across the plains because they had no choice. My Grandparents achieved because they worked hard, and they all had serious setbacks both personally and financially. My sister struggled with her disease, when she would rather have led a quiet life. And, finally, I think my Dad would be disgusted with some of the ways we remember him. We are all human, put on this earth to do the best we can. I hope my children remember both my struggles and achievements at the end of my life, the times I achieved and I failed. Those are the stories from all of us that truly inspire.

Gifters Block

I'm out. Finished. Done. Washed up! Oh, the shame!

Christmas is coming, my favorite holiday. I listen to Christmas carols all year. I decorate my house with no less than 4 Christmas trees, our outdoor display is Scott's pride and joy, and at last count I had over 30 nativity sets. So with all this you may ask "what is your problem Allison?" (you know, this time).

I have a reputation for giving well thought out gifts, scrapbooks that make people cry, treasured eBay scores, etc. I carefully begin plotting and planning these gifts, literally months in advance. And this year...I've got nothing!! Christmas is five weeks away people, and I have gifters block. Oh, it's been building for months, I have racked my brain, but to no avail. I peaked to early, burned my self out, set the bar to high, and now I have nothing to offer.

I should have known this day was coming, but it is still pretty humiliating. I've tried to let people know, tried to warn them. I gently suggested to Nancy the other day that she might just get something simple from me this year like an Applebee's gift card. She looked at me as though I had just ruined her Christmas morning. She stared at me and gave an indignant huff, it only served to make me more humiliated. Now what? I'm scrambling, desperate, grasping at gifting straws. What will Christmas morning be like this year? So, if any one has any leads....ideas....anyone?

Goin' to use it for everyday

I'm a Mormon (Sorry, I'm supposed to say "a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints" because that is the real name). Anyway, my family lineage goes back nearly the entire span of the the modern church, on both sides. My mother belongs to the Glorious Daughters of the Utah Pioneers, which rumor has it requires a DNA test to join, and apparently I'm eligible to join as well.

It is my personal belief that something happened on a genetic level as those pioneer ancestors crossed the plains, probably somewhere around Council Bluffs, that created some sort of quilting gene mutation. You see, I know how to quilt. Not fancy mind you, but basic keep your family warm, thanks for the baby blanket type of quilting. It has been handed down for generations in my family. I even have a quilt that my great grandmother made. You see, all the women in my family can quilt and truly appreciate the effort real quilting requires. Over the years as I have heard women in my family discuss this or that about quilts, they will occasionally say something like "she had that gorgeous quilt Great Aunt So&So made, just out on her bed for every day!". Apparently some quilts are not for every day.

Anyway, when I got married, one of the many things my Mother, Aunts, Grandmother and assorted other relatives did for me was make me a beautiful quilt. I think the pattern is called a Cotton Blossom. It is pink on one side and burgundy on the other. It was hand quilted, and I even helped a little bit between a grass taxonomy lab and a lizard dissection.

Over the years this beautiful quilt has been displayed a few times on a quilt rack that Scott made, but for the most part it has been tucked away in my Hope Chest or in a cedar linen closet. But the other day I was changing out my summer linen, (waiting until I can put on Christmas linens) when I saw that quilt. I decided to put it on my bed. So there, after 20 years I'm going to use it for everyday!

Random thoughts of "Seige on Whiting Road"

Last night, thanks to some strange circumstances beyond my control, I had the opportunity to observe some of our local law enforcement's finest. Since I had a perfect vantage point (my Mother's front windows) I have decided to share some of my random insights:

Wow, I had no idea they made gun belts that big around.

Residents of Mesa County should always hope they are not in a hostage situation, since it takes about 3 hours to round up the SWAT team.

Should the guy in the house really be given the same ultimatum by PA four times? What? Do they think he might have been in the bathroom and not have noticed the armored swat vehicle sitting next to the front door?

I really should buy my Mom one of those eavesdropping things.

Has any of the tax payers in Mesa County noticed that the mobile command unit looks like a street taco vending truck? Several members of my family and I had to resist the urge to run over and place an order.

While I do appreciate them clearing my home before I came in, could they not have taken half a second to wipe their combat boots?

Ok, I can understand breaking out one window, but 6? And not using the doors?

If you are going to give the fugitive instructions, hope that he really does know which way is west.

Maybe, if the family members are all telling you he's not in the house, maybe he's not in the house.

Before you call out 30+ officers, maybe you should ping his cell first.

I know the fugitive wasn't very bright, but if he can outwit the deputies how smart are they?

If you really want to frustrate a former AF air base ground defense troop security police, federal officer- make him sit up at the end of the street and watch the keystone cops run all over the place. (ps, thanks for letting me listen to that last night).

Finally, if on the way up the street this morning and my son wondering why the windows are all broke out says, "why couldn't they just use one of those body heat, thermo things to see if he was in there?" I realize he gets it, maybe he should have been in charge of the op.

No Clue

I am a bad parent. It's true. I have no idea what I'm doing, there I said what I think everyone else has been saying. Well, what do you expect? They just sent these children home with me from the hospital and the only thing they checked was if I had the car seat installed properly. The little buggers don't come with any instructions, there isn't any license or certifications required. So here it is over 16 years later and I still don't know for sure how to do it.

I just wing it. Once many years ago I worked with a guy and his daughter who was also named Emily. She was such an awesome young woman, one day I told him he had done such a good job I should give him my daughter to raise. He looked at me bewildered and said, "I didn't do that. A pack of wolves could have raised her and she would have turned out just the same. I don't know how to be a parent, I just came to the breakfast table one day and there were five little faces looking at me."

The other day I think my son had a panic attack because "the market has been down, and the jobless rate is so high". Turns out I may be exposing my children to too much Fox News, who knew 12 year olds could get freaked out from the bad economy. I don't force my children to go to YW/YM every week, and I acknowledge that there are good leaders and bad in their lives. I let them not eat brussel sprouts and I force Emily to wear nylons with her dresses. I am obsessive compulsive about homework, but not about to much tv time. My children lecture me about swearing and talking smack about some people.

So, I am coming out of the closet and admitting what so many people know. I have no idea what I'm doing, and I plan to continue just like before.