Finally Finished!

I've been trying to catch up on my monthly movies for, well, months. So here it is, the final post-dated installment: December 2009. Just FYI, from :22 to 2:50 is our family Christmas Eve narrative. It's pretty traditional (Well, as long as 'traditional' means that poor baby Jesus is dropped on his head, sat on, and hit. And that Joseph rode the donkey rather than Mary.) , so you can skip that part if you'd like. Merry Christmas four months late or eight months early, whichever you'd prefer.

Everything is funnier in chipmunk voices.

Remember that time that I made our 2009 Christmas movie a whole year late?

Yeah.  Me too.

*This post was originally posted on 12/20/10, but I moved it back to where it was supposed to be in 2009 for chronology's sake.

Do you see what I see?

Clark Dome, one of the many observatory centers

Lowell Observatory Flagstaff, Arizona
Famous for: Discovering Pluto
Infamous for: Discovering Pluto (Hey, it was demoted. Talk about raining on your parade.)
Awesome for: Seeing things no one else has


Observatories elicit deep thoughts. For example, are astronomers nocturnal? Honestly. Have you ever even thought of that before? Yeah, I didn't think so. Anyway, back to date time with the hubby. First we saw this:

Jupiter. Stripes. Three moons. With my own eye. ('Eye' is singular on purpose. Only my right eye saw Jupiter. Poor left eye always gets left out. But alas, that is the nature of telescopes.) After Jupiter we walked up a hill to Clark Dome and looked through this bad boy. Built 1896, 32 feet long, 6 tons.

We saw this:

Apparently the moon was made of chocolate pudding that was whipped too long with an electric beater, thus resulting in a lot of bubbles popping. Of course, it was made back in the day before color was invented, hence it is gray not brown.

Right after we saw the moon the tree-hugging, star-gazing, hair-growing, hippie guy controlling the giganto-telescope announced very politely that if everyone would wait a bit he'd try to find "The Seventh Planet." At first people were confused about why he called it that and everyone whipped out their fingers to try to figure out which is the seventh planet. About fifteen seconds later a group of old people started chuckling and nudging each other. Oh heavens.

Did you know that you can see the first six planets with your naked eye? Even Saturn! They just look like stars, of course, but you can see them. The outer planets, however, can only be seen through huge telescopes. So hardly anyone in the world has seen Uranus. Well, except me. I've seen it. It looks like this:

So cool. Do you see what I see? No. You do not. Neener neener. ;)

Anyway, so on the way home I discussed with Sam the problems with the name Uranus. (I use the term 'discussed' liberally. It means I talk, he listens. And every once in a while, if I work really hard, I might elicit a grunt.) Why on earth did they name it that?! I decided that from then on I will pronounce it Yur-uh-nus. You know, to avoid the obvious problem with the word.

So we got home to Sam's house, and I announced proudly, "We saw Yur-uh-nus!" To which my sis-in-law replied, "You saw urine what?"

Nevermind. Mr. HippieMan was right. I think I'll just call it The Seventh Planet.

Arm Before & After

Remember way back on September 17th when I announced I was doing the 100 push up challenge? Guess what? I actually did it. Seriously. I did ONE HUNDRED CONSECUTIVE PUSH UPS. (Okay, admittedly they weren't quite military style, but I really did do 100. Consecutively. No breaks.) Feel free to let you mouths gape open in awe.

So as promised, here are the before and after pictures:

BEFORE (the big wimp)

AFTER (incredibly buff)

And so you ask yourself ... how is it, after eight weeks (we took a few breaks) of regular push ups, and going from doing 0 to doing 100, that Janae's arm looks EXACTLY THE SAME?! I wonder the same thing. There actually is a small difference. My under arm muscles are larger. Unfortunately, that is a BAD thing. Heaven knows I'm not doing any more push ups, which means all that muscle is going to atrophy into fat. Bring on Relief Society arms.

How to Die a Slow and Painful Death

(alternate title - Must do Utah: Capitol Reef National Park)

Things I liked about Capitol Reef:

5) Proof that you can work with complementary colors and still make something amazing. If you are God, that is.


4) Hieroglyphs. I call this one "Salute to the Sun."


3) Sheer cliffs. The hikes go through Narrows that are kid friendly. Except when it is 35* and one of said 'kids' wets their pants a good half mile in. That had to be cold.


2) Holey rocks. Not holy rocks. Holey. There's a difference.


1) Suggestions on how to die a slow and painful death. Look at this picture. What do you see?


Closed caves, right? It's a mine. Oyler Mine. Opened in 1904. They mined uranium ore. URANIUM ore. So what did they do with uranium before the atomic bomb? Well, in the 1920s they ground it up into powder and did one of two things: 1) Wore it in packets in waistbands or on arthritic joints, or 2) Mixed it in water and drank it. DRANK IT. They drank uranium. As a cure to rheumatism and other ailments. I think, in this case, the "cure" is much worse than the disease.

Must Do Utah: Cove Fort

Thanksgiving break + trip to Arizona =


View Larger Map


Cove Fort


Is it just me, or did President Hinckley talk all the time about his grandfather Ira Hinckley starting Cove Fort? Well, every time we go to Arizona, we pass Cove Fort. And every time we pass Cove Fort, I think to myself, "We should stop there. But it's probably just a hole in the ground." Um, WRONG. The fort was actually really well preserved, had twelve fully furnished rooms, and reminded me that if I were born a hundred years ago I would have been a giant. It was lovely.


So minus the part where Enoch fell flat on his face on stone ground and cut his nose and lips all up and bled profusely (see the blood coming out between Sam's fingers?), it was really a fun stop.