We don't have too much news to report. Brian has been super busy finishing up a big project at work and trying to keep up with the tons of activities and meetings that come with the Young Men and Scouts. I've been  doing stuff around the house, working on a couple craft projects, and baking our little bun.


One thing we finally got done was painting our bedroom and bathroom. They were the last rooms downstairs to get a fresh coat of paint. The color of our room wasn't horrible like some of the other paint choices in the house, but it was darker than I wanted and like every surface in the house when we bought it, covered in grodies and smears of unknown substances. Now it's much lighter and brighter and clean. The bathroom is now a solid color instead of the cool two-tone paint job covered in hairs that was also really gross. The bedroom is now light blue/gray and the bathroom is beige. The bedroom color didn't turn out like what I had planned in my mind, but I like it. Brian still isn't too sure about it.

We also planted our garden. This year we planted beans, broccoli, cucumbers, and zucchini from seed, and tomatoes, onions, and green peppers from plants. Only one cucumber came up, but everything else is doing well.

I try not to turn the oven on when it's hot so that we don't have to run the air conditioning, but I did make these cornbread muffins on a 90 degree day.

http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/down-home-with-the-neelys/honey-cornbread-muffins-recipe/index.html

Janet, the cornbread expert declared them good. They are nice and sweet like I like, and they use quite a bit of cornmeal, unlike the Marie Callendar recipe. 

Provo City Center Temple Groundbreaking

Anyone familiar with downtown Provo will notice that a certain large building is missing in the background of the rendering. Sorry Nu Skin. Although it was nice of you to sell the Church the parking garage.

We were able to attend the Provo City Center Temple groundbreaking this morning, and we enjoyed it very much. We both have fond memories of attending stake conferences, firesides, and concerts at the Provo Tabernacle, and we are happy that we are going to be one of the 16 stakes in the new temple district. A month ago Brian was invited to be a member of the 16-stake choir that sang at the groundbreaking. As his guest, I enjoyed reserved seating up at front of the audience. ( It wasn't as reserved as Governor Herbert's seat or President Monson's family's seats though.) It was a pretty neat experience. The couple that sat next to me came down for the groundbreaking since the husband is an architect for the church and worked on the plans for this temple. It was fun to hear him explain where certain rooms will be and how they are planning on making the woodworking and stained glass as similar as possible. Elder Holland did the dedication of the site, and it was nice to hear him speak, especially since he has many ties to Provo. We didn't stay to turn over a shovelful of dirt.

The view from my reserved seating

Brian singing with the choir

Another choir shot

And here are some photos from KSL and a link to the official story.

There were over 5,000 people there.

This hot air balloon kept hovering over the tabernacle.

Brian's famous!

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I always look through the ads to find any coupons or especially good sales, and I found some gems.

If a chihuahua dressed in a bunny suit and pushing a miniature grocery cart filled with vegetables doesn't make you want to get your electrical/plumbing/heating/air fixed, I don't know what will. And to be clear, this definitely came AFTER Easter.

This is from the BYU housing guide I picked up for Janet. I feel like I never lived my true BYU experience because I never lived at Green Gables. Of course, I could never afford any housing owned by a place called Elite Estates of Provo.

I appreciate that some mother wants her child to be exposed to music at a young age, but no one should pay for music classes for a six month old. Now that I think about it, maybe I should offer music classes for infants to make a little extra money.

And this one had text too small to scan and be readable. It's from the community education classes offered by the Scera Theater.

Graffiti
July 30-August 1
Come and learn the art of graffiti! Students will have a chance to learn how to use pen, acrylic painting, and spray painting techniques. They will learn how to create different fonts and fun imagery while learning about mixing and blending colors.

I don't know who thought it was a good idea to offer classes on graffiti. I hope nobody in my neighborhood takes that one.

Breakfasts

Sunday evening we went to a family history fireside. The senior missionary couple doing the fireside talked a little about family history research, but most of the time was spent on personal histories and sharing your stories and the stories of your ancestors. I was inspired to start writing a few things from my childhood. The missionary couple suggested starting with your earliest memory, then they gave some other examples of things they had shared with their grandchildren. One of their stories made me think of a favorite memory, which I thought I would share.

Until I was probably in middle school, I remember Dad cooking breakfast most days while Mom was at Seminary.  When Mom and whatever kids were in Seminary got back, it was time to wake up and eat breakfast. Back then, our scripture reading was done before breakfast. We would all sit around the table with our scriptures and read the chapter, and then breakfast was served. Many breakfasts were hot cereal. I think Dad made it a point to make hot cereal two or three times a week, but to me it seemed like it was every day. The cereals ranged from oatmeal, Cream of Wheat, and rice, to things I considered disgusting like bear mush, 7 grain, and cracked wheat. Even today I don’t know what bear mush really is, but it came from the Amish store like the other grosser cereals.  The oatmeal, Cream of Wheat, and rice were usually made bearable by adding butter, sugar, cinnamon and milk, but there was no way to redeem the others. I had to eat whatever was served because I remembered the consequences of not eating. Once after breakfast Dad pulled out a stash of candy bars, and if you had eaten all your cereal, you got one. If you hadn’t eaten it, there was no chance to go back and finish. I was in misery because I did not eat my breakfast and could not have a candy bar. Any whining or crying was met with an unfeeling response to eat all my breakfast next time.  Another time Dad made a note of who had eaten breakfast, and in the evening, only those people got ice cream. The injustice! How was I supposed to know when it was safe to push away the gross food and when it had to be endured to get the sweet reward? I learned to eat whatever it was, just in case. Breakfasts on other days were usually very good. We had things like pancakes, German pancakes, French toast, eggs made in every way—foods that would probably be considered by others to be elaborate breakfasts for a weekday, but to me, it was just a breakfast that wasn't oatmeal. Sometimes holidays were celebrated with special breakfasts, like green pancakes for St. Patrick’s Day and huevos rancheros for Cinco de Mayo. Sundays were special because we got to have cold cereal, a special treat at our house. Now, I have cold cereal almost every day for breakfast. And sometimes I want to eat oatmeal or Cream of Wheat. What would Dad think if he knew?