Part-time Stocker

Dan is starting to scare me. But in a good way, if there's such a thing. He has a new pride and joy. What the previous one was still eludes me, but nevertheless he has a new pride and joy: our food storage. Yes, my husband gets chills when he sees excessive amounts of canola oil and wheat. A little tear might have slipped out of his eye when we were stocking pasta and peanut butter. And visitors beware! You will have to endure a short tour of our cold storage. He has even renamed our storage room. It is now "The Store." "Did you get that from the store?" "Don't worry- there's more in the store" are just some of the things I have heard. His enthusiasm is endearing. And in the event of a catastrophe (assuming our cold storage is still accessable), we will be fine. If fine is drinking powdered milk and eating lots of pasta, that is.

Thank you, honey, for stocking "The Store."


A little shiver just ran up my spine.

It's No Joke

The other day as I was driving my son to school, I saw a chicken cross the road.  Really, I did. We live in a more rural area of Utah and I grew up in a very rural Idaho and not once have I seen a chicken cross the road. Until now. So the question begs, why did this chicken cross the road?

To get to the other side.

Naturally.