15 August 2011

Midwifery Monday

"Spontaneous labour in a normal woman is an event marked by a number of processes so complicated and so perfectly attuned to each other that any interference with them will only detract from their optimal character... The danger will arise that the physiological part of obstetrics will be threatened by doctors who all too often will change true physiological aspects of reproduction into pathology."
G.J. Kloosterman, Dutch obstetrician

30 July 2011

Update: Holy Smokes!

What have I been up to this summer?

... i've got sushi coming out my earholes and i'm loving it more than ever. waking up at 5 am to make 250 salmon nigiris?
geez louise, who is this white girl?

04 July 2011

Today, the 4th

I have yet to listen to this song without a tiny welling of tears.

This 4th of July has me feeling particularly nostalgic. Something has compelled me toward google maps: looking up satellite pictures of St. Fridolin's cemetery in Champlin, Minnesota and our 2.5 acres in tiny Dayton. That sandbur infested yard with its strawberry plants, firepit and our family of seven ('such a lucky number. makes me feel like HEAVEN!'). Maybe it's because I've had 'American Pie' on repeat for the last 24 hours but in spite of all the 4th's I've celebrated since the summer after 3rd grade, the few we got to spend with my dad have been running through my mind all day.
A lot has changed since the muggy July's in Minnesota and this year my family is sprawled across the country and the globe (Napa Valley, Bangkok, Barcelona...) We're not driving to St. Peter for the parade or giving the Dayton PD an illegal fireworks show and even though the watermelon is just as sweet, and seedless to boot, and the snap-dragons are still blooming and snapping and nodding in the sun, this 4th of July is dedicated to summers past and, more importantly, my dad.
My dad who was on the dating game, whistled along to the hymns at church and rode a LeMond.
My dad who proposed to my mom in a canoe.

So Happy 4th of July to families big and small, scattered and gathered. And cheers to 4th of July traditions that endure through wet climates and dry climates and state borders and births and deaths.

27 June 2011

Happy Birthday Gracie Babie

My month/week/day is coming up. I know at least one of my readers really likes me a lot, a lot.
I have been oogling googling over...
Madewell = Madelovely
J. Crew is like Courtney: big sister, blonde, sophisticated, simple and beautiful.
Madewell is Emma: baby sister, boys can't help but love her, gets along with everybody, wears high heels with her plaid school uniform skirt.
I'm Gracie, I've bought 6 white wife beaters in the past month. Reeeeally glad to have this sassy sister sandwich.

Pretty much, those sandals have become my bread and butter. They're the bee's knees. I kept the window open to them on my phone so I could stroke their pretty strappies during Sunday School.
I hope they're tanning the hides of those Italian cows for me cause I'm comin' for you baby. I'mma comin'.

oh and...

this ring is pretty too.

01 June 2011

Summer Goals

These seem to be popping up all over the blogosphere.
Be left out? P-shaw!
For my own personal reference...

Summ-Summ '11 ToDo's:

1. Go to Lagoon
2. Smell like campfire smoke more often than not (but not really) (but kinda)
3. Live (or die) in Yosemite
4. Bastille Day. AKA my birthday. AKA right in the middle of my birth-week. AKA right in the middle of July. July being my birth-month... It's kind of a big deal
5. No pants allowed
6. Get offered a multi-cultural student scholarship by August (this happened the summer before my senior year. The sun and I? Yeah, we're kind of a thing)
7. Read. Books.
8. Neglect my car, love my bike (actually, goal #1 is to replace my bike tires. they are lil baldies, poor fellas)
9. Pack a real, bona fide picnic and share it with a lover or two
10. 7-peaks, 7-11, 7-fourteen(see #4)
11. Befriend a boat owner. Marry a boat owner? Maybe next summer...
12. I seem to have forgotten my old popsicle friends. This summer will be one for rekindling.
13. Timp. Oh Timp. You sing to us in the mornings and watch over us at night. I'll see you soon you sweet, strong ol' girl.
14. Make a million sushi rolls and a million dollars.
15. Rent a room. Live in a tent.

I'm itchin'.
Boyohboy I've been waiting for June since... pretty much last June. Something about the new greenness of the grass and trees that makes June full of calm expectancy and Utah pretty much owns the month of June. Nestled between the wet, bi-polar spring and the dry, sucking heat of a desert summer, June makes the mountains seem soft and friendly while keeping their cold, snowy peaks to remind us their power.
June in Utah smells exciting and clean. Drive north on 900 East at sunset this month. Look at the vibrant green mountains with their icy hats and catch in your peripheral the millions of blossoms lining the street. Then try and complain about the liquor laws and 'lack of culture.'
This is the place. This place is magic.

30 May 2011


I know that three people read this blog. I think that's pretty good, right?
Anyway, for those three of you here is a little promotion.
My sweetest of all friends, Kelsey is hosting a little giveaway on her blog. Apparently she has Apple products coming out her ears for some reason and is giving away an ipod shuffle in an effort to up her following.
But here's the thing with Kelsey: she's a real gosh-darned tough cookie. She can lead you through an hour of yoga that leaves you feeling you might melt into the floor by savasana. She sings, bakes, wears leather jackets and corduroy pants and is always willing to snuggle all night. But here's the most important thing: she's a survivor. Read a little bit about her story here and try and resist clicking on the "Newer Posts" button. Her writing is honest and powerful, candid and dignified.
She also really loves herself sometimes so I hope she doesn't read this. JUST KIDDING KELSEY!

11 May 2011

Drunk and Hot Girls

Scenes from St. Helena

Courtney graduated from wine school. We don't know exactly what this means, only that she is a winner.


even more wonderful.

this is how you stand in front of a back-drop, right?

life: from wallet to picnic table

tres bien.
the weekend was full of sunshine, cream and sugar.
Congratulations to our lovely Sommelier.
Thanksgiving's wine selection will surely never suffer.

19 April 2011

Best Page of the Semester

"Oh, hey there, handsome. What's that you say? You're Rh positive? Oh my gosh we have so much in common!"

23 March 2011

musings in the melancholy sunshine

You know it's time to get your hair wet in the shower when you start pulling out all the tricks you've mastered while you were camping in order to not look greasy. Oh but I'm not camping. Not unless you consider paying $400 a month for a private bathroom camping.
Sometimes I do add my 15 degree sleeping bag to the pile of blankets I sleep under though. So maybe I really am camping. Which means I don't need to get my hair wet after all?

See what I did there?

Three things that have been on my mind:

one scandalized baby
No, I did not switch my photobooth to the mirror effect in order to maximize the smooching of this tasty niece. It's just sisterly silhouettes of the EmmCo. and myself.

one reassuring fortune cookie
It's just nice to hear every once in a while, ya know?

and this.
What is this? I don't get this at all. It seems the urinary system (urinary system? really?) is really throwing me for a loop. A nephron loop, that is. Get it? At least the system of micturition, has left me with such vocab as 'juxtaglomerular apparatus.' Forever my go-to phrase to prove that I learned something in BYU physiology.

Other things:

Please buy The Strokes' new album. I saw them live only a hand-full of weeks ago and boy oh boy lemmetellya. I want to crawl inside of each one of those boys' leather jackets and run my fingers through their greasy hipster hair.

This is a hard time of year. Enough said, right?

Ever since I got my car's radio fixed I sing less. But as it turns out, this also has some effect on the amount of people I know who see me in my car. (?) Before it seemed every other day someone was saying how they saw me turning left on University or pulling into Target. Each one of those people inevitably saw me singing my little guts out to absolutely no music at all.
Or playing the harmonica.
I got really good in those months without car radio. Maybe if The Strokes aren't your cup of tea than pure Bob-inspired harmonica is what you'd be into.

21 January 2011

Forget their boobs...

i want their HAIR!

oh their gorgeous locks that flip and tousle just so...

falling like luxurious waterfalls down their backs...

le sigh.

this past weekend my sorority sisters reunited in tipsy napa valley to go wedding dress shopping for not me. courtney got a victoria's secret catalogue in the mail and evidently we are both in need of a new bra. as we were debating between biofit and very sexy (which do you like??) i came to a tragic conclusion:
i can do as many crunches and weird things on gym benches as my little heart pleases, but a bikini goes best with a whole lotta hair. on your head, of course. and that, is something that will forever elude me.

one time, when i was a much younger woman,
my hair looked like this:
(documentation of a much, much shorter cut does, indeed, exist.
willingness to ever allow those photos to see the light of day does not.)

i know, right?

then, after many years and much tedium,
i got it to look like this:

and then...
it died. it stopped. it just couldn't do it anymore. it took up permanent residence just below my shoulders.
i sweet talked it, i babied it (with baby powder of course), i wore mayonnaise to bed and took vitamins.
but it just wouldn't budge. for well over a year the stubborn ends continued to split and break as i told my stylist (hi calle!), "i'm growing it out."

so what's a girl to do?
get extensions?
i'd rather get cancer.