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The End of an Era

For the past three years, Nick has worked for ALCO Holdings as a project manager (new-investment-finder-and-keeper).  This job was a wonderful opportunity and a great fit for our family.  Nick loved it and would always say that it was "an 11 out of 10" job.  

I could not have been happier with his employment.  He worked from home 80% of the time, meaning that his commute was the 3 second dash up or down the stairs, the gas stayed in his truck's tank, and I could run errands or make quick visits while the baby napped.  His employer has been so kind and considerate.  We could not wish for better in a boss or friend.

Due to a waning need to find new investments on new capital, Nick foresaw a stagnation in his professional progress.  After discussions with his employer, he decided to begin a job search.  Once again, let me say how grateful I am to ALCO and to Darrin for their help, encouragement, and consideration as we began this process.  In his searches, Nick found commercial banking at Wells Fargo.  He has a great friend, Sarah, who is in this business at the Tacoma office and helped Nick to understand the position and the business.  He has been excited and anxious about it ever since.

As you may be suspecting already, he recently successfully completed the interview process and will be working for Wells Fargo, Seattle office, beginning next month.  I am sad to see all my little perks go, but I know that I have only been spoiled and that it could not last forever.

But with the end of an era comes the beginning of a new era, and we are pleased to embrace it.  Nick is overcome (I mean that very literally) with excitement about this position.  He feels that it is the perfect fit for his talents and aspirations.  I am excited to support him in this step that will mean so much to him and to our family.

"Seattle?"  You may be asking.  Yes.  It will be a 1 1/2 hour commute each way.  Part of that will be on a ferry, so he will be able to take advantage of that time to rest or work.  Although we have many friends near us who live this way, I am not one to embrace such time away from the family eagerly, so we are revving up our efforts to finish our home and get it on the market, although you know how slowly things sell lately, so we're not packing any bags yet.

Congratulations, Nick.  Let me take one more moment to brag about my hubbie.  There were originally over 400 applicants for this single position (bankers needing jobs are suddenly plentiful).  I am so proud of you.  Thank you for taking such great care of this family!

We would be remiss not to mention the gratitude we feel toward our Heavenly Father.  We know that he watches over us and is the source of all blessings.  When we are blessed, it inspires us to increase our devotion and service in gratitude, trying to lessen our debt to Him.  This seems only to increase the blessings, making us more indebted.  But we'll keep trying...

Un-shlumping My Borfin

And poor Mr. Bix!
Every morning at six,
poor Mr. Bix has his Borfin to fix!

It doesn't seem fair.
It just doesn't seem right,
but his Borfin just seems to go shlump every night.

It shlumps in a heap,
sadly needing repair.
Bix figures it's due to the local night air.

It takes him all day to un-shlump it.
And then...
the night air comes back and it shlumps once again!

The above poem is from a page in a Dr. Suess book called Have I Ever Told You How Lucky You Are? It is the story of an older man telling a kid about all the people who are "ever so much more, oh muchly much much more unliky than" him, like poor Mr. Bix.

I read it to Bethelle last night. I think "borfin" is code for "house" and I think I might be Mr. Bix.

Do Angels Dust?

Recently Bethelle was at her grandparents' house during a serious dusting.  She helped with the trim around the stairs and whatever else she could reach.  This morning at breakfast, she was telling me about it and said, "but there were no angels, so Pabby (Grandpa) had to do the high part."

Election Day

Norah Jones.

You've got to watch this video.

Should I say it?  This is how I feel.

Don't worry, I'll get over it.  Probably sooner than I should.

"Come what may and love it."   - Joseph B. Wirthlin

College Humor

College was the first time in my life that I was ever around a lot of girls.  OK, there was Girls Camp every summer, but that was way over the top.  In college I had a little apartment with 6 girls (women?  no way!) in as few square feet as possible.  I LOVE those kids.  They are my sisters.  I will love them forever.

We were all a little different from each other, but we were a good mix.  Melinda and Lorrie were the crack-ups.  I appreciated their humor best.  Then there was Meagan who really didn't think we were funny at all.  We called SNL "Family Night".  We were totally into "The Office" type humor (this was, of course, before that show).

We must have had nothing to do one night, because we got out some colored construction paper, glue sticks, crayons, and my sticker book, begun when I was 4, and made crazy creations.  We then wrote on them that they were acceptance letters into the Mariah Carey fan club.  We mailed these things to random people at BYU that we at least knew of: the star quarter-back, a guy in our congregation, a girl from a class...  Why did we do this?  I have no idea.  But if you can imagine the glitter and paper and stickers and brownies, maybe you can imagine the good time we had.

Even though I have not grown out of appreciating this humor, I now concede to Meagan that she was right.  It's really not that funny... to most people.  How do I know this, if I have not grown out of it myself?  Let me give you an example.

One of the most memorable nights was when we were in some kind of delirium, thinking of cities that sounded funny with our names.  I think I remember "Lorrie Nashville" being particularly hilarious.  I bet we stuck with this mode of brainstorming for an hour, laughing at how funny it all sounded.

Tonight in the car, Bethelle did the same thing.  She's three.  They weren't cities, but for about 15 minutes, she was cracking up to "Daddy Road!" and "Rigby Sweater!" and expecting the laugh in return.

Meagan, you win.  It can't be that funny if a three year-old can come up with it.