Past, Present and Future Part. 1

Story time! Is everyone here? Good now, as my title has predicted I will be discussing events of the past, present and the future. I know I’ve been doing a lot of that lately, but this is different, I promise. Instead of tattle telling on little Amber, I’ll be gossiping about Big Amber.

That’s right, this time I will be talking about current events. These events are the very beings that have prohibited me from writing about them. It’s a relatively calm moment though, so I shall divulge a few snippits of stories.

Though, it should also be noted that this is part 1. I see your mouths hanging open, and indeed it is true, enough relevant and slightly important happenings have occurred that I wont be able to discuss them all in one go.

So let’s start.

Back in June I was put in as the Second Counseler of the Relief Society Pres. in my ward.

AHHHH!!!

If I didn't know the calling was inspired of the Lord, I would be greatly dubious of the judgement of my Bishop. I mean I've been in primary, wrangling four-year-olds for five years! And now they want me to be an adult?

So far so good, I guess, I haven't fallen asleep in Sunday School, or Relief Society yet, and that's without the aid of toys and/or candy. And I've already Conducted like a champ and given a lesson to people who can actually read and answer without first telling me all about their puppy and new bike and bad boo that now has a Spiderman band-aid on it, but it can come off, want to see?

I do miss my artistically challenged depictions of pretty much everything, and having the trump card of "You wont get a treat if you don't: sit/ stop climbing the wall /stop turning off the lights / stop hiding in the cave that is under the table” hidden up my sleeve. But at least the chance that any of the Relief Society ladies will lift their skirts over their head is really slim.

We are painting the ill-fated blue trim on our patio. If you think about it baby blue trim on a yellowish/redish brick house, doesn't work in the; not even the littlest bit! Lucky for us no one did think about it, just like they didn't think about running giant black screws every 5" into the baseboard without covering them up. Lucky, lucky us.

We planted a garden much like last year, though we held a funeral for my cucumbers a little too early, *sniff * they were so young! The investigation is on going, though we’ve decided the erstwhile pickles either committed suicide out of jealousy of the Zuke or the Zuke murdered it. I believe both sides, and not because I’m afraid the monster zucchini plant will come for me in the middle of the night either (although I am.).

Our darling Dagger is physcotic (sp?), any sound over a moderate yell, and she runs for cover. Often running straight for the outside world, in which she thinks will be safer then her own back yard. It usually isn't, but that doesn't stop her. She does this despite all the traps and treatments we've put into place to stop her from doing this. She is willing to inflict minor to moderate harm to herself (and others) just to escape the vacuum.

We went on the most awesome-est Bear Lake trip with my family ever!!. I shall not spoil the blog that is in the works although I will say this: Running Water.

The Big Bang Theory and Bleach discs have taken over our entertainment. But we're kinda ok with that.

And now finally for the last piece of show stopping information:

I may be a mother yet.

Stay tuned for the exciting sequel: Past Present and Future part 2.

Later!!

Seven is a Lucky Number

11 years, eight months and 16 days ago the youngest of my family was born.

(don’t do the math it wont add up)

Back then I was in Jr. High, and living my awkwardly-normal preteen little life. I was getting good grades, experimenting with make-up (a misunderstanding with blue eyeliner = blackmail photos for eternity), making some of the best friends I’ve ever had, joining track (another misunderstanding) and holding down a steady boyfriend. (as steady as a 13 year old can be.. seriously kids, don’t date in Jr. High. It only makes for body-shiver inducing memories.)

I was living something close to being the teenage dream, or I was until my life as I knew it was sent spinning into orbit, never to return.

Mothers day is pretty a big deal, as is Fathers day; but it was the later event my parents chose as the right moment in time to inform us (me and my sibs) of our growing family… via a scavenger hunt.

It was the scavenger hunt to end all scavenger hunts. And I really do mean “end”, I haven’t trusted one since. I mean the word ‘hunt’ does nothing except excite a young brain, right? Right! So, I was excited, I thought I was going to get a freaking pony! But all I got was a big slap to the ‘emergency stop only’ button and told I was going to have a baby sibling soon.

I guess running off to the nearest dark corner to grow mushrooms and endless amounts of self-pity, isn’t the reaction my parents expected from their first born. But, it was what they got. As all good parents do, faced with abnormal tween behavior, they ran for their lives.

No I’m just kidding, though the thought probably made a rather impressive bid for attention while they tried to console their upset, heartbroken and screaming for no apparent reason oldest daughter who was almost old enough to drive, and are now thinking that one bout of road rage will send her over a cliff. Ya, tell me moms and dads, how do you not lock your children up?

Anyway, I’m not going to lie, this may or may not have happened, but knowing my younger, slightly (read: moderately) aggressive self, I can’t imagine a whole a lot of consoling happened. For one thing, if it had, I wouldn’t have been back in my sulking, self-pity and mushroom cave at my grandmothers later that evening when my mother’s side was informed of our imminent family explosion.

If I remember right, I think everyone in a ten foot radius vowed to never say congratulations to me ever again.

And you all probably thought I was a cheerful, Saint like child huh? Fooled you.

Moving on, I shall further prove how Saint like mini-me could be. Teenagers usually are a little detached from family matters, but I mean who can blame them? Have parents never heard of “friends”? This being said, I wasn’t just detached I was actively kicking away from the family surface as fast as I could to get to the darker deeper water so that I could pretend I was a mermaid and live under the sea and make fishy friends! (why I thought being a mermaid would solve all my problems, I’ll never know. Maybe I didn’t quite understand the whole “fish –phobia of death” thing that I have..)

Ya, I didn’t look, touch or talk to my mother without some sort of emotional break down or body magnet, for weeks at a time. The day she went to the hospital, ya I was playing Mario on the Nintendo 64. I remember the day as if it were yesterday.

None of my siblings were home, or at least I assume they weren’t, because I was the one my parents told what was going on. Me, the girl who was not only the most unsupportive of this whole deal, but also the one being temporarily brainwashed by Nintendo and doing her best to keep Mario outta the freaking Lava so he could collect all those neat little blue coins in under a minute, so she could get a star that is absolutely worhtless.

They told me anyway, so that at nine pm later that evening I could tell my siblings why they weren’t home and why our uncle had just pulled up in the drive way to take us away:

“Seriously I have no idea! But I got that Lava Star! It only took me five tries, beat ya Geg :P”

Again that conversation may or may not have happened, what did happen was a fun sleep over at my grandmothers then a little ride to the hospital to meet the newest alien invader.

Seriously a worse picture could not have been taken.

After the birth of our darling Nicker-nack, I eased up a bit. I mean look at this face:

Who wouldn’t save his saucer-walker incased form from rolling down the stairs? (this happened a number of times, I think he thought with a good foot of hard plastic surrounding him that he was invincible.)

Modeling was his true calling, or at least we thought so. You may call it torture, we called him fabulous.

As he grew up, so did I, to my parents intense relief.

This didn’t stop me from making up names for him though, which I did with great cleverness and creativity. Not all of them were nice, even if they were said in loving tones, and I quickly learned which ones I couldn’t use ie: Mistake. Ya that one got me slapped and grounded. Rightly so.

I’m at the point where I think I need to explain myself. Finally, right?

Let’s see, why would a perfectly normal girl, who has never in her life been an only child suddenly freak out at the thought of a new family member? Was it the change in family status and life style that one gets used to after 10 years? Was it because her parents didn’t tell her until five months in? Was it that her parents didn’t discuss this with anyone but themselves? Was it the journal entry she found her mother writing about a new life she wanted with new children? Was it an unexpected change to her already strange and stressful new life as a teenage girl?

Who knows, but I think it was a little bit of everything.

mushed together with a whole lot of selfishness. I feel really bad about it, but I don’t regret it, it has made the relationship I have with him today.

Which is killer awesome. I love the little squirt more than anything, it is a joy to watch him grow and learn. He’s got one heck of a sense of humor, has more guns and the knowledge to use them than is right for his age, can effectively beat me in Halo, and still lets me cuddle him all I want.

Maybe it’s guilt for treating him so cruelly, but whatever it is, I’m glad of it.

Mess Maker

That would be me.

I don't need a Little running around my house to make it messy, I am well equiped with the skillz of causing chaos.

Observe:

The first one I had a little help with, if you can't tell it's a Halo battle on a bunch of crochet squares. I provided the squares Nick provided the Halo stuff. It was epic, I have so many pictures, someday I'll make a post.

As you can see I am perfectly capable of causing my own distress at having a cluttered house, as well as creating a slightly less filling breakfast.

I tell you what! Flipping eggs is like an Olympic sport!

Hidden Family Skills..

I can't remember which cousin it was that started the trend of wishing someone a 'happy happy' instead of a 'happy birthday' but it has stuck. Sure we're taking advantage of a childs mistake and/or innocence, but it is what it is and we wish it upon each other with great adoration and love.

Like wise I'm not sure where this next happy birthday tradition came from, in fact I doubt anyone in the family does. My grandmother especially wants to figure it out so she can go back in time and stop it from happening.

But it is the Isaacs family treasure. We LOVE it, and are almost proud of our unique'ness. You see when the candles are lit and the lights turned out and it's time for the celebratory "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" song, that's when my family truly shines.

And it goes something like this:



Brilliant no? If you listen, you might pick up some lyrics that don't even belong. I'd say it's like the Hogwarts song except everyone not only picks their tempo and tune, but also the volume, lyrics, happy birthday song (ie: primary songs or another language) and sometimes if your really lucky, jingle bells or whatever anyone has stuck in their head.

It has been like this for years, I honestly can't tell you when we've sung the song correctly. This isn't to say we haven't tried! My Grandmother laughs and us and shakes her head when we sing, so for her birthday we all agreed we'd sing it right. But none of us knew how, it was probably one of our closest attempts but by no means correct.

It's so ingrained that when I'm singing happy birthday outside of my Isaac clan I have to honestly FOCUS to do it right. It's weird, but we love it, and heaven help us if it stops.

Tasty!

There’s a saying: “It’s an acquired taste.” This is mostly used on bizarre food items, like pickled herring, blood sausage and Brussels sprouts.

Everyone “acquires” these tastes differently, some are duct tapped to a wall and force feed sauerkraut, some by necessity (tell me blood sausage wasn’t a necessity!) and some by choice.

As a child I was rather picky, not as picky as some *coughnickcough* but a rather ordinary purchase of my parents challenged my childish pride.

Every house has a junk drawer, I know you do! It has in its marvelous depths anything from quarters to bobby pins to the missing piece of several puzzles, and an earring always an earring. On one fateful day it had a bag of Cinnamon bears. Not just a little bag, but a bulk candy bag.

I had hit the jackpot.

I stuck the head of a little bear in my mouth, ready to party and then BAM! I was kicked in the senses by that tangy, bittery, sweet.. whateverness that is cinnamon. The point had come to spit it out or die. Since I’m writing this now lets say I spat it out.

Now a normal child would have stayed away and eventually forgotten the bears, but I circled that drawer for a week. The quantity of the Cina-bears didn’t diminish much because my brother and sisters had passed the “if it tastes bad and you don’t like it don’t eat it” childhood lesson. I had not.

During that week I kept trying the bears, apparently under the impression that they had changed flavors, my parents had replaced it with good candy or would this time they would be better.

They never were.

Finally the bears were moved, I suspected my mother did this because the bag wasn’t empty, and thus filled the entire drawer so it was hard to find that all important puzzle piece. They were gone for about a month before I started craving them. I craved the bears like bears crave honey (theoretically).

I wanted to ask for more but I never learned what they were called because I was fairly certain I wasn’t supposed to eat them. Yes I realize they were put in the junk drawer, but if you think about it, that’s more like a good hiding place. I mean who puts candy in a junk drawer?

Eventually I asked my mom about the red teddy bears in the junk drawer. I think she thought I had gotten into the “pop medicine” (that’s another story) I never did find out what they were. Not until I stumbled on them years later covered in chocolate!!

As you can imagine I am a serious advocate for cinnamon now, I’ll have it on pretty much anything I can, much to Grants displeasure.

And just to stop the questions before they start: NO this will not work on fish, or blood sausage. At least not for me.

The Author is in!

I'm being very liberal with the term "Author" I just write stories, anything I want to see played out. It's self gratification in a verbal, wordy form, really, if you think about it.

So! What am I writing now good question. I'll blurb out a few:

Working Title: Olympus Knight, or Breathing Underwater.


Once upon a time in a high school not unlike your own two students studied and learned all the things they need for the outside world.


Abby and Oliver: lovers at first sight, bonded soulmates, best friends forever, and all before they say the word hello. In fact their connection for each other is so strong that it lasts for months without them ever introducing themselves to each other. One can only imagine what happens, when they do.


It wouldn't be a high school romance novel without the obligitory love triangle, and token jealous people drama-lama, so of course they will make a grand apperance. Tragedy, Comedy, Romance, Suspense, Repitition, and Cliche's at their best folks. Or at MY best, in any case.



Working Title: Monsters


As far as Meg knows, her life is completley normal. She has a job, is going to school, and just rented her first appartment. Sure things could go wrong, but how bad could they be?


Well if you consider being attacked by an unknown creature bad, then her life could get worse. Worse being a brutal and bizzare death.


And yet she breaths still. With no pulse, no blood flow or body heat, she would be considered dead by anyones standards. Anyone not living in the world she now found herself in.


With the help of her new found friends she learns to embrace her future, and her past.

This is mostly Romance Drama, Comedy and if Grant had his way, World Domination. Maybe someother time..

Working Title: It doesn't have one, I just call it Dragon Hunt.

On his quest for the mythical Dragon of Destiney (uughh.. not the name I'll stick with ) Patrick Caffton faces many trials, including, but not limited to: finding (another) guide, starvation, sticker burs, huge thick forests, and the beasts that live in them, hired hit men, men that want him dead, really mean mages, and his ex-fiance and quest companion.

But this time he's gotten in to deep, and his wounds, both phyiscal and mental wont allow him the luxurary of independant traveling so he's forced to ask for help, and swallow his pride.

Aaaaannnd that's IT!

Well sort of. I have lots and lots of little idea snippits cluttering up my computer file space, but most of them are just that, ideas. A few wont ever see the light of day, and another select few will probably get mushed in together with another story. There are two other largers stories I could blurb, butI haven't worked on them for years. And of course there's my un-edited (almost) novel.. *sigh *

Forgive me for my vagueness but I don't want anyone thinking they can steal my ideas. What I have written isn't enough for anyone to steal my story from. Trust me, I left out all the good bits.

Well there you have it! That's what I've been doing lately.

Ideas...

Sorry folks, believe it or not I've written around a dozen blogs.. all in my head. They've all been more or less about the same stuff, writing, valentines day, life, baking bread, important stuff!

And yet none of them have made it to paper, or Mircosoft Word, or some type of recording device. On the bright side, I haven't forgotten the password to this blog, unlike some other blog I could name...

So lets get this party started! Wasn't Valentines day fun?? Grant, Kim, Brent, and I all went to Benni Hana for their all you can eat sushi. The boys took that as a challenge, which sucked later on but left more gellato for Kimmy and I. Stupid work schedules denied us the pleasure of Jake and Brooklyns company, they were sorely missed.

I've been trying to cook more, while playful banter about Grant being a better chef then I am is all fun, it does hurt my wifely pride. So one night, at great risk to her kitchen and sanity, Jen and I made bread! Usually anything attempted by the two of us after 6:30 pm ends up in a burnt unrecognizable lump at the bottom of her stove/sink/floor/oven/you really don't want to know. But the bread turned out AWESOME! And then I got snow plowed in.

Love was certainly being felt over the holiday weekend, and it materialized as two new Smartphones for Grant and I for absolutely FREE!! I'm still trying to cope with the change but Grants already gotten to like level 20 in Angry Birds. As soon as I learn how to turn on and off my phone I think I'll also pursue Angered Birds.. who actually shouldn't be mad, it's the pigs who are getting the short end of the stick.

So finally: My writing!! I've added more to my fanfic, which is actually getting pretty good reviews on the site I have it on, which makes me really happy. Being told I'm a good writer by people who don't have to love me is a great feeling!!

I've also added more to a little pet project of mine, as well as a short story I believe could actually go somewhere. I really like getting my ideas out and seeing them transform into a scene, and my characters turn into people. It's fun and frustrating at the same time; especially when you have two stories fighting for your love. It's not fair!!

I've decided I'm going to give you little blurbs about all the stories I have outlined and such, but I think I'll save it for another blog. Just so you know, cause knowing is fun even if it's something that will do you absolutely no good in the future.

Anyway it's late I better get going.
Bye!