Leaping Lizards!

Do lizards really leap? I thought about looking this up, but lizards aren't my favorite. They belong to the same animal classification as these gross creatures, and while they're not quite as bad (note: they at least have arms and legs), they aren't great. So no, I don't know if lizards really leap. I know frogs do. And kids pretending to be frogs. Who remembers doing frog leaps across the floor in P.E. class?

Today, we all leap! Today, we all get one extra day to leap. What will you do with your extra day? Will you leap?

Me? I leaped out of bed at 7:30 and did "dog duty." Then I leaped right back into bed to relax a bit. How lovely that Leap Day came on a Saturday, leaving more free time to leap.

Of course, as many of you know, my Saturdays aren't entirely free this semester, and if you don't know about all that, here's the scoop. I showered and got ready for class, leaped into my car, and drove to South Jordan to meet up with 20 nice college students, ready to leap into a lively discussion of the rhetorical strategies used by the authors of "Blue-Collar Brilliance" and "Shop Class as Soulcraft." Good times.

Then Shulamith texted me that it was QUADRUPLE POINTS DAY at Cafe Rio. I'm not even kidding. It was a Leap Day miracle! I mean, how could we not take advantage of that. It would be a Leap Day disgrace. So we feasted on a sweet pork burrito (me) and a chicken burrito (Shulamith), and then took a mini road trip down south toward Lehi to run an errand.

And finally, I'm home for Leap Day blogging, my favorite! But heading out again soon to get groceries and go for a walk (leap?).

I don't know if lizards leap, but I definitely did, and I hope you did too. I'd love to hear about what your leaping entailed. We only get this opportunity once every four years, so make it count.

Happy Leap Day, everyone.

I just ate the last chocolate-covered cherry...

And that means Christmas is officially over.

I know. Christmas was technically over eight weeks ago, but until that last cherry is gone, there is a tiny remnant of Christmas left over.

You see, as much as I love them, I only eat chocolate-covered cherries at Christmastime. Someone always gives me a box as a gift, every single year, for as long as I can remember. This year I wound up with two boxes even! I keep them hidden in my closet and don't share them with anyone (mean mom that I am), and because they are full of all sorts of delectable, high-calorie goodness, I never eat more than one a day, sometimes not even that. This year, each box I received contained 16 cherries, so 32 in all. It's been 56 days since Christmas, so I guess that means some days I eat one, and other days I don't. Sounds about right.

Regardless.

This afternoon, about 30 minutes go, I ate the very last one. Now I have to wait over 10 months for my next chocolate-covered cherry. A friend once commented that these things are available year round, but I tried my best to ignore him. Really, what kind of a friend would tell me that?

Coincidentally, or perhaps not, another thing happened this week to mark the official end to Christmas: I threw away my last bag of used, scrunched up wrapping paper. Yep, the day after Christmas each year, I stuff all the bags of used wrapping paper that I can fit into the garbage can, but there are always way too many bags, so I make a pile of the others in a corner of the garage. Then, each week on trash day, I throw one bag into the big, blue bin. This week, I threw away the very last bag full of wrapping paper.

You'd think the universe was trying to tell me something: CHRISTMAS IS OVER, TERRIANNE!

My only respite in all this is that by the next chocolate-covered cherry eating season, my baby will be home. I'll be so happy I might even share one with him, but probably not.

Today I ate the last chocolate-covered cherry and threw away the final bag of used wrapping paper.

And that means Christmas is officially over.

Who let the dogs out??

I...I...I!

I let the dogs out. Constantly. Every day. Multiple times. (With the help of Gerald, Eli, and Amanda.) But look at them posing there, all adorable. How can we resist? Best friends. Though it wasn't always that way.

It helps to first understand the history of dogs in both the Erichsen-Webster and Webster-Monson families. It all started with Shulamith. Well, and me. I sort of strongly encouraged her, when eight years ago, the two of us trekked all the way to Nephi to pick up a new Boxer pup, whom Matt subsequently named "Kitty." We all fell in love. She was really the sweetest dog. Seth was just 11 at the time, and he bonded with Kitty instantly. Unfortunately, Boxers often struggle with health issues, and our Kitty died of a heart attack when she was only four.

Everyone wanted another dog, especially Seth. So Shulamith found a litter of Australian Shepherd puppies, and once again, she and I went and picked up a little ball of fur, whom Matt, this time around, named "Woof." That ball of fur grew into the beast you see above on the left. Woof was a pretty annoying puppy but grew to be such a nice dog, and Seth loved him. Then just over two years ago, this happened. And Woofie moved away.

Seth was so sad and really just wanted a dog of his own. This was in 2017, and I knew full well that in 2018, Seth would be leaving to go on a mission. We both knew it. Nevertheless, I would do just about anything to make him happy, and Shulamith would too, so off we all went to the Humane Society to rescue a dog, and home we came with the cute yellow lab/Chinese Shar Pei mix you see in the photo on the right. Seth named him Waffles and loved him so. Seth was such a good dog owner, right up until August of 2018, when he boarded an airplane and left for two years in Paraguay.

And just like that, Waffles became my dog.

We don't know what Waffles' previous life was like, but for some reason, from the moment we brought him home, he hated Isaiah and was terrified of Gerald. That situation has improved somewhat. He's still afraid of Gerald and barks at Isaiah, but he's starting to warm up to Isaiah as long as Isaiah is seated, and I am home. Additionally, feeling deserted by Seth, Waffles worries that I'm gonna leave him too, so he follows me around like a sick puppy and sits in the corner and whines when I'm not home.

Until a couple weeks ago, Woof and Waffles had never met. Woof lived in the wilderness with Shulamith, and Waffles lived here with us. But then Shulamith and Matt moved into an apartment on the third floor, making a giant dog like Woof way too inconvenient. At first Shulamith thought she would give him away. I always told her NOT to do that. "I can keep him," I told her. She kept saying it would be too hard. They expect to be in the apartment for six to nine months, way too long for us to keep him, she thought. The day before she was going to give him away, I sat in the parking lot of my school and cried. Really ugly tears. It just felt so sad. But it was Shulamith's decision, so I tried to be supportive. The next day, as she went to put Woofie in the car, she couldn't do it. She was crying too.

We decided to bring him here. I wasn't sure how it would all work out, but I knew it would. Keeping him was the right thing to do, so I knew we would find a way. The first step was socializing these two dogs to each other. At first there was a lot of growling, especially when Woof thought it would be a good idea to eat out of Waffles' dish. I kept them separated after that, realizing that if a full-on fight broke out, my dog would most certainly lose.

The following Saturday, Shulamith and I spent a few hours with them outside in the backyard, and sort of forced their relationship. "You will be friends," we told them. It didn't take too long before they were running around together and playing. I still can't have them inside the house at the same time because they go whacko and run all over the place, jumping up on furniture. But they play outside together, and I have tremendous help from Gerald, Eli, and Amanda making sure they both get outside regularly.

Still, most of the time, if you're wondering who let the dogs out??

It's I...I...I.

Snow Day! (and other bits and pieces of grace)

Snow days don't happen often in Utah, so we definitely celebrate them when they do. Last evening, reports of the upcoming snowstorm kept us chattering with hope and expectation. "Snow day for everyone!" I exclaimed, with no basis whatsoever, but it sure sounded great. Eli texted his team of 5th grade teachers to get their thoughts. One said she didn't trust the meteorologists, but if the forecast turned out to be correct, there would be a late start at the very least. Isaiah hoped for a "work from home" day, and Shulamith's kids prayed for a snow day as they lay down to sleep.

The morning came early, as the family text thread lit up at 5:30. Canyons District, where Eli works, was closed. SLCC had a late start time of 11:00 a.m., meaning my 7:00 a.m. class was canceled. I waited not so patiently for SLCC to cancel the rest of the day, and that welcome notification came in about 10:45. Isaiah's entire team opted to work from home, so a full-on snow day it was!

I braved the snowy roads and drove to Chevron to get a Diet Coke (yes, I'm an addict), and on my way home, another bit of grace. I received a phone call from a bishopric member, asking me to speak this Sunday in sacrament meeting. Could my day get any better? I think not. One of the hardest things about the change in ward boundaries 17 months ago is that in the new ward, I don't get to speak nearly as often as I used to. But this week I do, and that's all that matters, and I'm a happy girl.

With all the commotion and lack of normalcy, I nearly forgot it was P-day, until Seth's message on hangouts came in: "Hola mama!" Oh my baby!!! He didn't have much time at the cyber, and the video wasn't working, but his voice was clear, and we were able to chat for about 20 minutes. He was decidedly bitter about the whole snow day thing, reminding me that in his six years of school in Billings and seven years here in Utah, he never once had a snow day. Eeeek, sorry, Seth. As always, it warmed the depths of my heart and soul to talk to him, and in case you didn't know, six months from this Thursday, I will get my hug. Just sayin'.

This afternoon, Eli and Amanda, Shulamith and her kids, and I decided to go see Frozen 2. I told myself it would be okay. I'd eat popcorn and candy and drink Diet Coke. I'd sit in a heated, reclining seat. I mean it couldn't be any worse than Frozen 1, right? Wrong. Goodness, I loathe kids' movies. All of them. Anything animated. Anything Disney. Shulamith tells me it's because I don't pay attention, but this time I tried. Really, I did. I tried to watch and listen, but it was just so incredibly boring that in no time I was completely distracted, and all I could think about was how I'd rather be home cleaning the bathroom.

Once back home, we changed clothes, and Eli and Amanda and I headed to Shulamith and Matt's new apartment to work out at her gym, a lovely ending to a lovely day. I always feel so good when I work out, all those amazing endorphins, I suppose, and just knowing I've been kind to my body. We were back home in time to watch part of the Iowa caucuses with Gerald and Isaiah. Please let this be the start of the process to replace this clown of a president. Please!

Sometimes God calms the storm. Other times He lets the storm rage and calms His child, with bits and pieces of grace, like canceled school; an upcoming talk in church; a chat with the coolest missionary; a heated, reclining seat to help endure a really bad movie; a workout to refresh and restore the body; and the hope for a nation to come where Donald Trump is not the president.