I don't even really like cars; I just like transportation.

As I wrote about here and also here, the last couple of weeks have been rough. Not only have I been in two car accidents, but I've also been right smack in the middle of our home sale negotiations, prepping the house for photographs, showings, inspection, and appraisal. I'm tired of all of it and desperately yearn for the boring life that was mine just a short time ago. With my car totaled came the issue of transportation. My lifestyle requires that I own a car, and drive it, though at this very moment, I'd prefer to do neither.

While I love to shop for most things, there is hardly anything I enjoy less than car shopping. I like grocery shopping, for example (and I miss it these days, as I do almost all curbside pickup to reduce the risk of contracting COVID19). I enjoy shopping for gifts, even when I don't know the person I'm shopping for. Today I helped Shulamith pick out the cutest little set of PJs for her and Matt's niece. More than anything, I love shopping for clothes! I delight in the whole process: wandering the stores; rummaging through racks to find the perfect style, color, and size; trying on dozens of cute things in the fitting room; heck, I even enjoy paying for the clothes, and of course, wearing them is the icing on the proverbial cake! One day again, when this virus is controlled, I see a major shopping spree in my future.

But car shopping? No thank you. I don't even really like cars; I just like transportation. But despite being terrified to drive and hating to shop for cars, Shulamith and I braved up and went out a couple days ago and again today. As we were deciding between a Ford Escape and a Nissan Rogue, neither of which I particularly wanted (again, I just need a car!), we happened to walk past this bright red Dodge Journey crossover SUV.

Well, what could I do? I mean, really, what choice did I have? This is exactly my previous car, just one year newer, with leather seats and a backup camera. It's even red, my most favorite color! I told Charles the sales rep that I would buy this car. And I did.

And that would be the end of this story, other than to offer a brief shoutout to the dealership CarMax. Truly, I will never go anywhere else to buy a car. Here are some reasons why:

1. No salespeople lurking around outside, ready to pounce on you like vultures when you try to walk in.

2. Zero pressure to buy anything.

3. The price is the price is the price. There is no negotiation, no soliciting help from the manager to make some sort of sketchy deal, making you feel like you're being played.

4. Total transparency about financing. No surprises or added fees at the very end when you're so tired of being there, you'll sign anything just to escape.

Really. Go to CarMax. Even if you're like me and don't really like cars but just need transportation, it's the best place to go.

This one wasn't my fault, but I still feel so bad!

So I don't know what has caused this sudden influx of terrible luck, but I've been in two car accidents in the past two weeks!

Is the universe out to get me? Maybe it's because I switched up the saying "When it rains, it pours" to "When it shines, it burns"? Whatever the cause, I'm so done.

Monday afternoon, I took Isaiah's car to run some errands. You know how they say most accidents happen within 1.5 miles from your house? Well this happened one block from my house. I was headed home, stopped on 8000 S., signaling to turn left onto 400 E. against oncoming traffic, when suddenly, I was rear-ended, causing me to spin out of control in a full circle. It was so scary!

The good news is I was not hurt at all, and neither was the poor, distraught lady who hit me. She got out and right away began apologizing all over herself. I felt so bad for her. I felt equally bad for Isaiah and his crunched car.

Like really awful. Yes, the lady's insurance company will cut Isaiah a check for the value of the car, but no, it won't replace the emotional attachment he has to it. Isaiah bought this car when he graduated from college and paid it off about a year ago. Not many cars built in 2010 have roll-up windows and manual locks, but this one did, and oh how Isaiah loved it! I would give anything to find him another just like it, but I doubt I'll be able to.

And by the way, now I'm terrified to drive, which is one thing I actually never had any anxiety about previously. Ugh. I've only driven once since this latest accident, and that was to test drive a possible new car for me. I tried to convince Shulamith to test drive it for me, but she thought I should drive it myself, since it would be my car. I did it, but I didn't like it. Everywhere I looked were other cars, and all I could think was, "Which one of you is going to run into me next?"

If I could get along without driving, I definitely would, but it's just not practical with my life. So whether I buy this particular car or not (haven't decided for sure), I will need to buy some car, and I will need to drive.

Wish me luck. I obviously need it.

We can do lots of things, we Webster women.

We can teach English to Chinese kids.
We can teach writing to community college students.
We can even cook well enough to keep our children alive.

But just you wait to hear about our latest accomplishment...

WE CAN GROOM DOGS!

Not even kidding.

Backstory: We got Shulamith's dog Woof five years ago. He was a little, round ball of black, fluffy fur, an Aussie Shepherd/Standard Poodle mix. You could barely find him in all that fur. That little fur ball grew to be an 85-lb beast! He is really such a nice dog, but very big. And not only did he grow, but his hair grew as well. Imagine that. It grew and grew and grew. He even had some stylin' dreadlocks goin' on.

Well, all this fur on an 85-lb dog made him hot and uncomfortable, especially in this season, so when we took him and his BFF Waffles (my dog) to Doggie daycare, they suggested we bring him back to be groomed (meaning, they wanted to shave off most of his thick, matted hair; even the dreads would have to go). We knew this was for his own good, so I gently explained to him that he'd need to find a new hairstyle that didn't include dreadlocks, and that he'd still look very handsome. We booked an appointment, but when we took him back, he was either too spooked or the groomer was too nervous; I'm not sure which? Maybe a combo? Regardless, we picked him up, un-groomed.

Then Shulamith had this idea that maybe we could do it ourselves. Because, you know, we figured if a professional dog groomer felt she couldn't groom the dog, surely we could. So we grabbed a pair of scissors and went to work. We took turns. One of us cut hair, while the other calmed Woofie with words of encouragement and lots of pets and loves. Then we switched roles, back and forth. Woof was such a good boy. He lay perfectly still for the most part, enjoying all the attention.

You guys! We cut off SO MUCH HAIR! Oh my goodness. It's not perfect, but way better. Matt even said we did a good job, and that says a lot, trust me. I wish I had before and after pics, but all I have is this "in process" shot that Amanda took:

We can do lots of things, we Webster women. We can groom dogs.

"Well you see, I served at the start of COVID19."

Had life not turned upside down, today is the day all of us would have piled into the car and driven to the Salt Lake City International Airport to pick up Seth. He would have just completed his 2-year mission in Paraguay. He would have come down the escalator to shouts from family and friends; balloons and banners; and long, giant hugs all around. It would have been so joyous!

It was still joyous, just different. 

Instead, this happened.

All the American missionaries serving in Paraguay were taken out and sent home at the end of March. Shulamith and I picked Seth up from the airport, following clear guidelines from the church not to touch him or hug him. We put a "Welcome Home, Elder Erichsen" sign in our car window, and Seth (who was at least two inches taller than when he left) simply walked up to the car and got in. No fanfare. It was far from a hero's welcome, but as Gerald so aptly put it, "He is my hero." We brought him home to two weeks of strict quarantine; he only left the house once daily to walk about the neighborhood. 

That was just over four months ago. Elders like Seth, who had already served at least 18 months, were permanently released from missionary service. It all happened so quickly. Just days before we received news of the exodus from Paraguay, we had our final video chat:

We talked a little about the virus during that chat, but neither of us had any idea Seth would be coming home in less than a week. Not a clue. 

It all made me super nervous. As I've mentioned, I like things to go according to plan, and the plan was for him to serve 24 months and come home TODAY. 

But Seth is way more flexible than I am (not saying much, I know), and he rolled with the situation as he always does. No worries. Immediately following the 2-week quarantine, he found a job at Chick-fil-A. In the past four months he has bought a very nice gaming/school computer and his own car, and now he's saving for college.

His plans continue to be uncertain. He'll take a couple online classes this fall at SLCC, but he still has no idea when he'll be able to go away to college, attend a singles' ward, take a girl on a normal date that isn't hiking. And yet, he remains cheerful! Had life not turned upside down, we would have brought him home today. Instead, we've had him home four months.

I am beyond proud of all three of my honorably returned missionaries: Elder Luke Erichsen (Oregon Portland Mission, 2006-2008), Elder Eli Webster (Arkansas Little Rock Mission, 2012-2014), and Elder Seth Erichsen (Paraguay Asuncion Mission, 2018-2020). But Seth will have the best story to tell:

"Hey Daddy, tell me about your mission."

"Well you see, I served at the start of COVID19."

When It Shines, It Burns

The title of this post is designed to replace the common adage, "When it rains, it pours," which means when one unfortunate thing happens, more misfortune tends to follow closely. I rather dislike that statement as it associates rain with something adverse. Lots of other sayings do the same; in fact, I even wrote about this way back in 2009, in one of my earliest posts to this blog. 

They're dead wrong. Rain is the absolute best weather. In heaven, it will rain every single day. No doubt.

So I changed it up to something that makes sense: When it shines, it burns. Much better.

I barely know where to begin. On its own, I believe I could handle any one of these things, but together, they are kinda crushing me. Yikes!

First, we are right smack in the process of selling our house. It was actually listed on the MLS just yesterday, but getting to this point was quite a process. My realtor decided there were "just a few" upgrades I should do that would significantly increase the home's value. Okay then. If I hire a realtor, I do so because I believe he knows better than I do about real estate sales. If he says to get new carpet installed, place sod in the backyard, buy a new range for the downstairs apartment, paint the dining room and part of the living room, pour mulch in the front garden area, and buy cute bowls to put on an open shelf in the kitchen, I'm totally on it. One day in the future, if we have a successful outcome with all this, I will tell you more specifics. For now I'll just say that I never, ever, in a million years could have prepped this house for sale without tremendous help from two lovely ladies named Shulamith and Amanda.

Also, have I mentioned we have two dogs living with us? Oh yes, right here. Well, dogs can't go on newly laid sod. That means for the past two weeks, I've had to keep both dogs inside (you wouldn't even believe how happy they are about this!) and take them out for walks and bathroom breaks multiple times each day, at the same time I'm trying to grow new grass in 100-degree heat with no underground sprinkler system. My days are almost totally consumed with moving sprinklers around and walking dogs, while pleading with them to go to the bathroom.

Second, this happened:

Before you ask, yes, I'm fine, 100% fine. At least physically. It was a minor accident, totally my fault, at very slow speeds. Why all this damage, you ask? Because the other driver had a huge, huge rig, with a giant crowbar nailed across the front. I might as well have been hit by an airplane. And yes, my car is totaled. So that's awesome. I'm grateful for good insurance which will fully pay off the loan, but for now I have no car. Haven't decided if or when I might get another one. Seth bought his own car recently, so I no longer need to provide his transportation, and Shulamith takes me most places. 

Third, the COVID-19 virus continues to spread. It isn't even close to controlled. Why aren't we making progress toward controlling it here in Utah? Lots of reasons, but the simplest one is that some people here don't want to wear masks. They believe science is a diabolical plot, concocted by liberals, to rob them of their freedoms. Even with a mask mandate, many won't comply. I don't go in public places very often, but when I do, I see unmasked faces everywhere. The scariest part is that most public schools, including Eli's, are opening in under two weeks. I'm terrified. 

Fourth, when I woke up this morning, Donald Trump was still the president. It wasn't just a bad dream that lasted 3.5 years.

On its own, I could have handled any one of these things. Together, it's been pretty rough. You know, that opportunistic anxiety that says, "Oh my, I see a nice window here." Anyway, I'll be okay. But the old adage about rain, transformed, has proven true: When it shines, it burns!

What do you do in the middle of a pandemic when you have a million things to do?

...you go to Moab to visit Arches National Park. Because you can.

It's true. I am knee deep in numerous house projects as we prepare to list our home on the market in the next two weeks, and it's Week #6 of my 8-week consolidated summer semester so I'm also buried in school work. And then of course there's the COVID-19 pandemic that keeps me up nights checking to see if I am still breathing and if my body temperature is normal.

Good times.

Nevertheless, when the family started talking about a weekend trip to Moab, I was all in. When it came time to actually go, I was less enthusiastic. "I have so much to do here," I thought. "How can I leave town for three days?" But we'd already booked the AirBnb, so off we went. As timing would have it, our backyard sod, which was scheduled to be laid two weeks ago, was pushed back to yesterday (thank you, again, COVID virus), so that meant our two dogs couldn't be outside while we were away. Ack! I hired two cute kids from our ward to care for them, which involved coming over multiple times during the weekend to let them out, along with the regular task of giving them food and water. Thank you so much, Braiden and Ella. You rock!

Though the timing of this trip couldn't have been worse, now that we're back, I'm so glad we went. I've lived in Utah nine years, and before yesterday, I'd never been to Moab or climbed on the crazy cool red rocks in the park there. We really had such a fun morning, while it was still cool enough to enjoy it. Here's the proof:

So if you have the chance to get out of town and hang out in nature with your family, even if you're up to your eyeballs in other stuff you need to do, I say, go! Do it. The rest will take care of itself. I've been online doing school stuff ever since we got home, and now it's time to water the new sod and take the dogs out on leashes for walks and bathroom breaks. Cuz, you know, the sod needs to be watered twice daily for 30-40 minutes, and the dogs still can't be on the new sod, not for 2.5 weeks. That means these two mostly outside dogs are now full-on house dogs. They seem to be loving it thus far:

Me? Absolutely. I love taking dogs out on leashes multiple times every day for the next 2.5 weeks. Can't wait.

But then yesterday, I got to stand under this giant arch on top of the world, and it was awesome. So there's that.

P.S. It should be noted that Eli and Amanda and Gerald were also with us. We just weren't ever all in the park at the same time, so they escaped pictures. But we had four of our five kids with us, which was fabulous.

"Let's Find Out!"

This is always Isaiah's response to the question, "What does this one do?"

"Let's find out!"

For Isaiah, at least half the fun of lighting fireworks is the uncertainty. He gets a rush from not knowing, and I'm guessing he's not alone. I'm sure others thrive on the thrill of lighting a fuse, running away, and watching to see what happens. The uncertainty is part of the adventure.

If Isaiah is representative of this group, they also tend to refrain from committing to anything very far in advance. Leaving their options open provides a world full of opportunity. It's all just awesome.

But let me be clear: I am not one of these people.

I do not like uncertainty.
I do not like surprises (unless they're wrapped in beautiful red and green Christmas paper).
And open options??? As Shulamith's high school cheer squad used to shout, "Oh, child, please!"

I like plans. Lovely, predictable, well thought out, plans. And I like my life to go according to those plans. There's comfort in what some may call a boring life, but I'm just fine with boring. This may figure into my dislike for lighting fireworks. They're unpredictable, and unpredictable is scary. They seem dangerous, and also, they're so loud.

That said, one thing I love even more than I dislike fireworks is the bonding relationship among my sons. I love them so much, and it makes my heart happy when they are together. Isaiah, Eli, and Seth all love lighting fireworks, and this year, oh my goodness! Seth is back from Paraguay, so the three of them went on a bro outing Friday to stockpile an incredible amount of crap to light off.

The 4th of July is hands down my least favorite holiday, but I go outside anyway. I brave the loud noises, the sudden explosions, the unsettling mayhem, just to see my boys happy. And happy they were!

Some of us sat a safe distance away from the action.

...while still enjoying the show:

It was a good celebration despite the current COVID crisis. I've decided that just as I'm no fan of the uncertainty of fireworks, it's the uncertainty of this virus that causes so much stress, even for those of you without anxiety disorders. For me, it's a perfect storm. So many questions. Yesterday I was suddenly overcome with emotion, asking all those questions, the ones that have no answers. Will it ever be safe for me to fly to Portland and visit my family? Will I ever stop being afraid of everyone around me? Will I ever get to work in the temple again? Eat inside a restaurant? Go to a movie theatre? All the things I miss most.

"Let's find out," Isaiah would say. I wish it were as simple as lighting a firework.