Those Who’ve Seen Us Know That Not a Thing Could Come Between Us

In the fall of 2009, my sister packed up and flew the nest.  I told her then that “one of these weekends, I’m just going to pack up and come see you.”

Last month, I looked at my calendar and went, “Seriously?!  It’s been THAT long?!”  She’s graduating from college in May.  I talked it over with my husbsters and then set aside the second weekend in April as THE weekend.  Our Weekend of Fun.  Then we proceeded not to make any more plans.  We didn’t do anything really “fun.”  I mean, we didn’t head out to any exciting parks or shopping centers (unless you count downtown Safford as exciting which I do.  But not everyone does).  BUT we ate!  And we finished Ju’s puzzle!  And then we ate!

As we were packing up, my husband mentioned that he wanted to take my lap top (“Lappy”) with him (he spent the weekend at his parent’s house).  I felt like Andy at the end of Toy Story 3.  My husband reached for Lappy.  I yanked it away.

No!  Mine!

“Do you really need it?” He asked.
“I usually blog in the morning…” I said.
“But, your SISTER.” He said.
And he had a darn good point. So I handed Lappy to him and finished packing. I spent an entire weekend Lappy free. My sister met us in a top-secret meeting point which happened to be a gas station a few hours from home. I went to the bathroom and saw a girl from our hometown who was a few years younger than I was.
“Hey!” I said as we washed our hands together in the bathroom, “Who needs facebook when we’ve got public bathrooms?”
That was the first of many tiny spontaneous reunions over the weekend.
I squeezed my family, said goodbye, squeezed them again, and then hopped into my sister’s car. I then proceeded to talk the entire drive to her house.

My best friend’s husband once suggested I make voice recordings of myself  talking and then put the recordings into dolls for people to buy and take on road trips. I’m thinking about it. Seriously thinking about it. The only problem is that my voice has been constantly sore since I had my daughter. I’ve been to the doctor a few times and they can’t find any problems, but -as I told my sister on the drive over -I’m mildly suspicious that I have cancerous growths choking out my vocal cords (chords?) and that someday I’ll be rendered completely SILENT and mothers will make an example out of me.
“See that girl?” They’ll point, “She talked so much it almost killed her. The doctors saved her life, but she’ll never talk again. Let that be a lesson to you.”

After we got into town, we dropped my luggage and then went grocery shopping. We got everything to make won tons. We also got toasted coconut marshmallows because, hello? Amazing.
After a dinner in the which we stuffed ourselves beyond stuffing, we went for a walk. At 10 pm. Don’t worry mom, I took my pepper spray.
The walk afforded us enough room in our bellies for Horchatas.

The Horchatas at this place are SO delicious. They spoil you. You fall in love with Horchatas and then two years later, you buy Horchatas from someplace else because you think you like them AND your heart falls down into your chest. Your stomach heaves. Not to be dramatic, but it’s horrific. Devastating. Bleak. You end up pushing the glass of Horchata away, saying “I will never love again” in the voice of Princess Buttercup.

After Horchatas (around midnight) we finally went to bed in the living room. All of us. We drifted off watching “Beauty and the Beast” and woke up in the morning to the menu playing background music on the screen. I woke up before any of the girls, and I wanted to take a picture rearry rearry bad of three “little” girls all bundled up in blankets sleeping away.
Once my seester woke up, we got dressed and walked to the fine arts area where the grass is lush and green. We had a morning devotional and both learned a little something about Passover.
Then we went back to the store and bought everything to make loaded scrambled eggs. Scrambled eggs the way they SHOULD be made. Scrambled eggs really ought only to be made this one way.

Cut up pieces of bacon, fry them until crisp, drain (most of) the grease, add chopped up green onions and bell peppers (we used an orange bell peppers because the green ones at the store looked like total ca-ca), saute until the bell peppers are soft. Add beaten eggs (I used a dozen because there were five of us eating breakfast). Once the eggs have cooked almost through but not quite, add a cup of grated cheese and a bunch of pineapple (tidbits or crushed, either one).  Then let the eggs finish cooking.
And, viola!
Heaven! And I might say that I hate scrambled eggs, but I love loaded scrambled eggs. Thanks be to my mother for making them this way. The first time I made them for my husband, he thought I was crazy. After partaking, he commanded me never to make ordinary scrambled eggs again. I suggested he make a note somewhere that I was right and smart.

After our 10 am breakfast, we managed to shower and stuff. Then we took ourselves to my good friend Stephanie’s house. This was the one reunion I had planned, mind you. I had been looking forward for weeks to seeing Stephanie and her new (now four month old) baby. Did you know the house behind her is for sale? Bloody tempting…

We stayed long enough to watch Stephanie’s niece fall asleep with her head in a popcorn bowl, and then we drove off. I promised Stephanie that we would be planning a trip to see her and it WOULD be barrels of fun. My mommy taught me that inviting yourself over is naughty, but in Stephanie’s case I have to make an exception. Even if she doesn’t want me, I’m comin’ over! I love that girl.

What we did next is blasted amazing.

Okay, so we didn’t quite finish the puzzle, but we did make a ton of progress on it. The above picture wasn’t taken until later that night when we actually DID finish the puzzle. I like her face though. It’s almost like she’s game show co-host, presenting the shiny new car that MIGHT be yours if you win it.

I also managed to make it to the bank. This isn’t as boring as you think it is. When I met my husband he worked at the bank, and the reason I chose to bank at Bank of America was this: when I returned to college for Spring Semester, my roommates told me that a new guy had moved into town and that he worked at Bank of America AND that he was delicious to look upon.
“Hey,” I thought, “I need to open an account.” So I went. To Bank of America. As I walked through the doors, I spotted an extremely good-looking bank teller and I managed to peek constantly at him while I sat at the front desk and opened my account.
I snapped a picture of his window and texted it to him (Seeing as how he’s now my on true love.  Oh, and husband.)
“Do you miss it?” I asked.
“Not at all,” he replied. I used to take all the time in the world making deposits at that window. I’d ask for help every step of the way, just to prolong the process.
“Where do I put my name?” I’d ask.
“Right here,” my future husband would say, and reach over the counter to hold my hand through it all.
We were ridiculous. We are ridiculous. And we will forever be so.

Puzzle-doing can really make a girl hungry, so we picked up Julianne the Second (Julianne has a best friend named Julianne and they’re precious) and went downtown. We stopped off at a few shops. This is where it got funzy-funzy. We loaded our heads with loud accessories and then I said, “Make a pucker face. You know, the classic Facebook Profile Pucker Face.” So they did. And I laughed at them.

They thought I was going to do it too. Puh-lease. Like I would. I mean, look how silly they look! Not that I’ve ever really minded looking silly.

After window shopping, we grabbed some nachoes and were lucky enough to visit with Christie Dobbs. She, of course, had forgotten all about me but still manages to send me email forwards faithfully. Dear girl.
After dinner, we raced home and slipped into our Sund’y best. We went to the Gila Valley Temple to do baptisms. My sister, it must be mentioned is a PRO at them. I’m not. At all. The last time I did baptisms was in October in Snowflake (aka Home Temple) and it was with my husband. This time I was baptized by someone who wasn’t my husband and I was awkward and lost and confused and couldn’t figure out what went where and when and where the right rooms were and how I was supposed to walk and talk and speak… in general, I was humbled right down to my white socks.
Which is okay.
And good for me.
But not for the kid who baptized me because I stepped on his foot accidentally. Grace isn’t exactly my forte. Because I don’t want to forget: Julianne was baptized for an Alice Cooper (and I sniggered) and one of the temple workers was named Dave Matthews. Red letter!

After baptisms, we went back to the store for more food on account of our wanting dips. Namely: spinach and vanilla bean cream cheese. We came home and THEN finished the puzzle. For realsies.

All of Saturday, we were freezing. Nature played a little joke on all of Arizona. The week before was so hot that we all turned out heaters off and cranked our ACs. Then came the storm, and Mother Nature had a laugh. Because we had eaten so much since I’d been there, we weren’t hungry. We sort of stared at our dips and willed our stomachs to want them, but they didn’t quite. But we decided we definitely could manage some hot chocolate from Denny’s.
We checked the clock and realized we would have to leave RIGHT THEN to make sure we got our food and service before Sunday officially started.
The hot chocolate was a gross disappointment. And when I say “gross” I mean it quite literally.

That’s Deanna and Stephanie. Stephanie started dumping packets of this and that into her cup. The other girls followed her lead. I didn’t though. Moms know better than to take in sugar before beddy-by time.

After hot chocolate, we went home and ate dips and fruits and Hawaiian sweet rolls to our heart’s content. And then we slept. All of us. In the living room.

Sunday morning, I followed my sister around. She took care of her Sunday biddness (she’s the Relief Society President and had a lot to attend to) and I held on to her lush red hair and followed her wherever she went, wagging my tail behind me.

While she was in Ward Counsel, I ran into Andra Jensen! There was much joy and rejoicing as we caught up and laughed and laughed and laughed. Spontaneous reunions! Huzzah!

My husband and children came in the middle of sacrament meeting to fetch me. Have you ever had two little kids in a single adult sacrament meeting? It’s snort worthy. Single adults know how to be pin-dropping silent. Little kids do NOT. And that’s okay. If you’re not the mother of the little children. Then you’re a little nervous about the whole thing.
Julianne sent us on our way completely filled to the brim with good food and good memories.

I love that girl. Love, love, love. LOVE.

More than my Lappy.


  1. Steve-the brother says:

    I would say I’m jealous, but she’s my sister too! Fer ever.
    So I’ll say, how fun!

  2. Jamie Burt says:

    I just have to tell you again how much i love reading your blog. I think you should take becoming an author into serious consideration. Seriously! Oh and how I wish Julianne was MY sister. I love her like one. It sounds like you two had a wonderful sister weekend!

    • storylady says:

      It was really fun! I wish you could have been there with us when we all slept in the living room together!!

  3. So fun! I wish I could have visited my little sister at college! Living 2 days away and her getting married a year into it killed that possibility, I guess. Though on another note, I find it ironic that Christie Dobbs has not forgotten ME (she gets excited every time she sees me and wants to give me a hug) when we did not actually ever know each other or go to school together. The first time she “recognized” me was a little unsettling, since I had never laid eyes on her. I must look like someone. You think? :)

    • storylady says:

      Okay, that’s so awesome. Christie Dobbs is such a constant -we can always expect good times and hugs from her. Haha!

  4. Stephanie says:

    I feel so awesome seeing my name on your blog!! I’m so glad that you got to come visit me and you can invite yourself over anytime!! Oh and YES you should buy this house behind me.

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