R.I.P. Martha Stewart

Lookie what I did! Me, in all my domestic glory, and in the same 30 day time frame, I both baked a cake and did crafts. 

A coffee cake for General Conference, because it is tradition. 

Delicious, yes. But not quite as good as my mom's because I didn't have enough sour cream.

And R.I.P. Martha Stewart, because I am knocking off your ideas and busting it out in my own house.

Purchased, glued, and glittered all by yours truly. 

These are my only Halloween decorations, and I'm okay with that. 

Needs

I need this entire outfit.

I perish! 

I must put on my fur collared coat and sit in the living room.

For Bob

Some unsolicited advice: If your cleaning routine (or whatever other routine you have) needs some pep, try L.E.S. Artistes by Santigold or Walking on a Dream by Empire of the Sun. I spend enough time cleaning that I have several Pandora stations dedicated as "high energy cleaning mixes." Nothing wrong with a little booty shake while you're scrubbing the bath tub. Don't imagine that.

This person, on the other hand...

...has not been doing much cleaning lately. This is Paige's room. She moved to Rexburg. So did Ian. So this is her room before we gave it a little makeover. I'll post 'after' pics as soon as I get around to taking them.

As for my bedroom makeover, I haven't gotten very far. I'm still trying to work out the living room. It's hard to collect pieces you love and have them all get along.

Sunburned my neck this afternoon. Went out by the river with Danny, Paige, Ian, and Ian's Korean roommate GP, and barbecued and hung out while Ian and Danny fished. Nobody caught anything, of course. But it's still warm here (80's people! I couldn't be happier.) so we had to take advantage.

El Casamiento de la Betsy

Betsy married Jackson in Manti, Utah. Besty is my supercool friend, and mission companion. 

She made her hairpiece and helped her mom make her dress. I know! So awesome!

Freshly sealed love.

 

Betsy is an art major, and her mom found this creative guestbook. Each half page was reserved for a sketch of whatever the book prompted, plus room to sign your name, obvio. For example, since I couldn't sketch the whole periodic table, I chose to sign on a page that said "secret door" and drew an ugly door covered with vines and rocks. 

Aside from the other delicious food (pulled pork, cornbread, mountains of fruit...) and desserts, this was their charming Tres Leches Cake covered in strawberries and cacti that Betsy made herself.

There we are, standing at the reception, minding our own business when all of a sudden my mission president and his wife breeze through the door! Whoa. Not expecting that. I was shocked to find my eyes filling with tears at the sight of them because I never felt like I deeply bonded with them (unlike most missionaries). I think it was the rush of all those memories and emotions coming back all at once.

Yes, we three (me, Abi, Betsy) were in a trio for three days. It was chaos. 

Cutie Jackson!

Two and a half of Betsy's three sisters. Poor Elise got hacked. Isn't it funny how different the sisters complexions are? Margaret looks like Rapunzel. Oh and their brother Preston is a dead ringer for Prince Harry. I wish I would have gotten a picture of the fab Jini, Betsy's if-you-were-a-boy-I'd-marry-you BFF and bridesmaid. Jini was in the MTC with us, she went to Germany.

Dancing in the backyard. Betsy holding Elise's baby. Lots of crazy dance moves. The reception was at This Is The Place Park in SLC, in the Kimball house. It was cool and old. The whole reception had a rustic, slightly latin-slash-victorian feel. Does that make sense?

 My cutie husband bustin' a move.

It was entertaining to watch Clarissa dance. Here it appears she has broken her wrist.

Amiguitas. Yay Betsy Brown!

Coke Army

Today the Coke Army took over the bottom shelf, engulfing the juice.

Don't you think Danny's orange juice is the icky kind? I don't like the false tangy orange flavor that sticks to the back of your tongue. You know the kind, the one that you got at birthday parties as a kid. Whoever thought cake and orange juice went together is sick. Just sick.