Calling all dream experts

I don't always have such vivid dreams, but when I do they seem to come in spurts. Night after night for a week or so.

On Monday, I woke up thinking we owned a puppy. In the dream we'd adopted a little black lab after finding out how hard it is for black dogs to find homes. (I blame this dream on this story.) The kicker to this dream? When we adopted the puppy, she came with a name. Katie. I haven't asked my sister, Katie, how she feels about this and have decided not to think too hard about what it all might mean. :)

On Tuesday, I woke up mad at Garrett. That dream consisted of a wedding. Our wedding. A reception was planned for the day before our actually marriage ceremony. Unfortunately, the USU men's basketball team suddenly had to play a game in Colorado, and Garrett had to be there. By the time I found out he was driving over into Colorado, he'd already left. I called him seething, saying he had to come back for our reception. He said he would not be coming back for the reception, but he'd make it back for the wedding. I yelled, and he hung up on me. In the dream I was so mad I decided to call him back and call off the entire wedding. That's when I woke up. Garrett is just lucky he was in the shower so I had a few minutes to cool down before I saw him.

On Wednesday, I woke up tired. For some reason, that dream consisted of a job interview at a miscellaneous company doing who knows what. I went in at 8 a.m. and didn't get to leave until 3 p.m. It was a group interview and involved those old 1980s/1990s duck hunt Nintendo guns. They had lasers coming out of them, and we had to point them at a screen and follow lines as exactly as possible. The entire thing took a lot of concentration. At one point, someone walked in the room and handed me a note. It said, "Look at the bulletin board!" as if it would help me in this "interview." There wasn't anything on the bulletin board.

On Thursday, I woke up thinking something. There was a dream involved. Then, like what happens with many dreams, I promptly forgot everything about it. It's amazing how that works.

Anybody else having some crazy dreams?

Not exactly get-up-and-go people

Last night Garrett and I were driving home from the grocery store when I asked him if he'd shoveled our sidewalks yet this week. (I keep forgetting we legally have to do this now.) Yes! He had! In fact, he did it while I also was being productive by going visiting teaching a few days ago.

Suddenly, we both felt the need to list every constructive activity in which we have recently participated. For instance, we cleaned out The Room, the extra bedroom we'd put all the miscellaneous boxes in that day we moved in — in August — and promptly ignored. Garrett practiced — and played — basketball with the ward team. I went to the gym. (This is amazing.) We went grocery shopping. Then, there was the visiting teaching and the snow shoveling. And of course, we both went to work every day.

As we reveled in our unusual productivity, Garrett said, "We're not exactly get-up-and-go people, are we?"

Eh, no. We're not.

We are the couple who generally gets home from work everyday with no expectations for that evening. We are completely comfortable sitting on a couch, a floor, the bed, whatever, for hours on end. We're easily entertained. We don't make plans with other people, but that doesn't mean we don't like other people. We've been meaning to go see a movie now for weeks but have never really gotten around to it.

It's kind of funny. My sisters' husbands both like to be busy. When they go to my parent's house, my mom gives them projects. When we go to my parent's house, we just need a couch, someone to talk to and maybe a TV if a particular college basketball game is on.

Some people may say we're lazy. Yeah, maybe. But I just take it all to mean we're pretty happy with each other's company. So I'm OK with lazy.

Wanted: 1997 model Corolla hood

The good news is my car is actually in my garage.

The bad news is quite evident from the first photo.

I could say that a series of questionable decisions on my part might have led to this little ... situation. But instead, I'm blaming it on the SunChips.

As I was leaving Bountiful yesterday to drive back to Cache Valley, I stopped at Target to buy one of the extra-long shower curtain liners they sell. My mom went with me — in a different car — so we spent about an hour at the Centerville Target. (At this point, I'll mention that as much as I whine about not having a Target here in the valley, it is probably a good thing for my bank account.) Two things are important about this little Target visit. One: I couldn't find my favorite chocolates sold at Target. Looked everywhere. Nowhere to be seen. Two: The SunChips were on sale, and because I love cheddar SunChips, I grabbed a bag. That was questionable decision No. 1.

Then I left. As I was putting bags of groceries and whatnot into my trunk, I decided to keep the chips with me — as a little snack on the drive north. That was questionable decision No. 2.

Fifteen minutes later, on I-15 somewhere near Layton, I realized I was thirsty (the chips, remember). I got off the Antelope Drive exit and started looking for a gas station to get a drink. That's when I saw another Target. Thoughts of chocolate went through my head. I stopped. This is questionable decision No. 3.

I did not find any chocolate, but on the way back to my car a very nerdy looking Target employee approached me and asked if I could help jump start his car. Despite some misgivings (strange man, dark parking lot), I said yes. Questionable decision No. 4.

I pulled my car next to his, popped my hood and waited for him to attach the cables. Instead, he tried to start his car — and voila! — it started. He waved thanks; I drove away.

Next stop: gas station. Got my cream soda (this might be questionable decision No. 5, but I have a hard time attaching negative things to cream soda), made my way back to I-15 and started accelerating on the on-ramp.

That was when the hood of my car, which I had popped and then forgotten about, flew backward into my windshield, scaring the crap out of me with the thundering force and noise of it all. Somehow in the mess of not being able to see anything in front of me, trying to figure out if my windshield was broken and going 60 miles per hour, I managed to pull over into the mud. (Windshield was OK, by the way.)

When I got out and tried to pull the hood back to where it's supposed to be, saw how bent it was and realized it wasn't going to stay down. I called my parents to ask if someone could bring rope or string to tie it down and then called Garrett at home to let him know what was going on.

By the time my dad got there 20 minutes later, I'd turned the car off and on a few times (this is important) to keep myself warm but not waste too much gas or, you know, hurt the environment. When he came it was off. He pulled the hood tight, started tying the rope and I tried to start the car. It wouldn't start. Because I'd been able to turn the car on and off while waiting for him, the only reason for this we could think of was that the inwardly dented hood somehow hit the battery cables when we pulled the hood down tight, disconnecting and jostling them.

It took a trip to Walmart (during which time, if you look at exhibit B above, my car was marked) to get the necessary supplies so my dad could make some wires temporarily attach to the battery. I've had battery issues before, so this just made it all worse. The car finally started — at about midnight — and my dad followed me to Brigham just in case the connection came loose and I was stranded again. In the meantime, Garrett drove to Wellsville to wait for me to get out of the canyon and follow me home.

By the way, the canyon was AWFUL. Blowing snow is the most horrible thing in that Dry Lake area. It's even worse when you KNOW you cannot slide or stop or in any way risk turning the car off because you know it probably won't start again.

So, I got home. And tomorrow we'll be figuring out what to do. But be assured, I do blame the SunChips.

Or at least my decision to buy them.

News Flash! We have clean air!

But probably not for long.

Today was Cache Valley's first CLEAR, CLEAN and SUNNY day in, like, 80 years. It was beautiful. At work we kept walking to the windows and doors just to look outside. It was like in August when it rains and all of us Utahns stare at it like Floridians staring at snow.

So, the clean air. It's always a trade-off for us in the winter. Clean air = snow. Dirty air = no snow. But, if you think about it, snow requires warmer weather than, say, 5 degrees Fahrenheit. In January, if it's warm enough for daytime snow, it's warm enough for me. Today, we had a little overnight/morning storm, and then the sun came out. I was so excited I wanted to flirt with it.

**Helllooooo sun. ;) Wink. Wink.**

Just to screw up with our "green day" (oops), I drove around for 20 minutes at lunchtime basking in the sun. The sky — it was blue! And the mountains — they were there! I even unrolled my window because I could actually take a DEEP breath for the first time in weeks. So, because the sky will be gray and the mountains will be hidden soon — probably tomorrow — I took photos. Ignore the horrible photography and realize I'm just documenting this wonderful January weather day. Just as proof.

Morning conversations

While we were getting ready this morning, Garrett turned to me and said, "I wish there were some way of motivating myself to get in shape for our *trip."

I said, "Isn't the trip motivation enough?"

Him: "No, I need something tangible. You always hear of girls hanging up little bikinis they want to fit into. Then they have something to always see and work toward. ... But I don't think that would work for me."

I don't either, honey. I don't either.



*New Zealand/Australia. In May. Not exactly swimsuit weather, except for the four days we'll be on the Great Barrier Reef.

Family photo

I'm in a bit of a blogging funk right now. I had great things planned and then Wednesday's migraine happened. Since then, I have forgotten most of what was in my brain before. (Not just blogging stuff; a lot of stuff is gone. Wednesday basically knocked me off my little life trajectory. Sooo... if I promised you anything, told you I'd do something — remind me. Seriously.)

When I doubt, I've decided to just blog about the cats. Without kids I can't fall back on blogging about their most recent potty training success or about the utter cuteness of the vinyl lettering above their beds. Not that I think I'd ever do that.

Anyway.

Remember this little family photo? We took a real one. Jet wanted to go, well, away, and Lucy was seriously interested in the blinking light on the camera. Ignore my gray/khaki look. It was temporary. Oh, and see the cute red pillows? They're from my awesome friend Chelane. They match the wall! Yay! (It's a crazy shade of red; nothing matches.)

OK, I'll shut up. Here you go.