God Bless America and all the ships at sea

Dear Dudes,

Oh the things I just can't seem to get up enough lumpdiddikins to blog about these days.  Not art, nor music, nor uplifting anecdotes; so, instead I will share this little diddy with you:

I have self-exiled myself from the Calgary library system. My most favorite of places in all the land to go. I have not been in at least four months. Why you ask? Because I racked up over $100 in library fees, I respond to you.




That space above is for your shock and awe over how I could possibly commit such a heinous crime. I have a problem, that's all I can say. Up here in the 'ol canner, they charge you a $1 a day on some items and at least $.25 as a minimum, not some paltry nickle like in the good 'ol days. I had quite a bit checked out...now here's where the real problem arose. Irrational fears. I have a phobia of late things and confrontation. These library books were confronting me everyday, sitting there, all read, mocking my lateness. So I buried my head in the sand. I justified, I wheedled, I plain  just acted like a crazy woman. How on earth can one be afraid of returning library books when you are being charged for them everyday? I DON'T KNOW, BUT I WAS/AM!!! Finally after much justifications, and heart wrenching palpitations I mustered up enough courage to drop those puppies in the drop slot. I kid you not, it was a big deal for me, I truly have no idea why I can act so irrationally about somethings. I blame my mother.

Any who, looked up my fines online, saw the astronomical amount, and realized I'd just plain never pay them.


So, here's my plan. I can't go without library books, I've been living off my own stash, but I've read all those before, so phooey. I'm going to change my name to get another library card.


(Another space for your convenience)
 Once again you probably think I'm joking, but, fair laddies and bonny lasses, I am not. All though it is not as rebel bad-a as it sounds. Due to extenuating circumstances I have not legally changed my name from the maiden form. So I shall relinquish said name now, take on an Alberta license with my new name and address, and doop that library system for all it's worth.

I think its a brilliant plan. Quite proud of myself if I do say so myselves. Hahaha, I'll maybe show you a picture of my new license.

Later Kiddies




P.S. This is the art that I'm into lately, I think I'm going to hang it over my fireplace (as we've discussed before).

too too, too much to handle

Did you know that I started this blog to be nice? To focus on the positive, and to be uplifting to myself. Because back in the day, I could get batshiz crazy, I'm talking laugh out loud funny, mean. Do any of you faithful Olivia life subscribers remember when I was mean? I relish those thoughts... I used to lie, steal, cheat, and cavort. Then I found Jesus, true story.

Now, I'm trying to be nice. Only, today I told my brother, (and I prefaced it with "I'm sorry, this is going to be mean,") who is 13 (=annoying x10) that the literal thought in my head each time I heard him talk was 'you're wasting my oxygen.' He and my mom laughed, because everyone loved(s) the mean me. Except for Brandon, he says he starts to hate me when I'm around my family (because of how hilarious rude I am to them, if you haven't caught on) so I have become Mother Theresa for him. He is a stick in the mud, just kidding...kinda.

whateves, I will end this post with a nice thought. Someday, if I win a million dollars, I will give a dollar to each of you who are following today. That's true love.


And class.

Peace homies

Empathetic

I'm at a very emotional crossroads in my life, mostly dealing with mounting hormones. Can you guess why?

Examples:
In grocery store see a little girl start to get hysterical because she lost her mom, as I start to walk up to her the mom appears. Already crying...

watching The Last Airbender (worst movie ever) crying because they're "suppressed".

any of those ads that have little children in foreign countries.

I once bawled, like a baby, at a homeless man asking for money in the street, as I drove by, while pregnant with Vida.

It kind of blows, knowing I'm a ticking time bomb of snot and salty secretions; but, on the other hand I like that my empathy switch has been more acutely switched "on". To sit on my couch, cry for a few minutes, feel pain and sorrow for others, and then say a little prayer.

Its all going to end right.

Shake and Bake

I am not a Shake and Bake dinner, I am like a gourmet chicken cordon bleu (that's the classiest thing you can think right now Olive? Great.) that needs, one of those mallets to BAM BAM BAM me out, some stuffing, and lots of other tender lovin cares. No easy in the bag, ready in minutes. What I'm trying to say is, I  require time, and patience, and that little something extra. I know that I have a Heavenly Father, and a loving Savior, who are preheating the oven as we speak. We're in this for the long haul, and they will give me all the time, all the love, and all the fun along. I am grateful for this opportunity to live, to love, to blossom. I'm grateful for a husband who has chosen to stand by me for time and all eternity, for my sweet bitty daughter who teaches me patience, for  the gospel that has given me a path to follow, for all the many, many comforts I enjoy, but do not necessarily deserve. My blessings abound.

For those of you who don't know, our church has a general conference twice a year (first weekend in April, and October). A gathering all around the worlds to listen to the leaders of our church speak on the gospel of Jesus Christ, and the modern maladies and balms for our days.

Here are a two of my favorite talks:

Elder Richard G. Scott

The Eternal Blessings of Marriage





Jean A. Stevens

Become as a Little Child




You can read, watch, listen to all of conference here .


Loves,
Peacey,
O.

Some people are afraid of their children dressing themselves, for fear that they won't match. We'll I dress my child like a rock star, and I dread the day she ever wants to match.

Awesome cubed

Two weeks ago Vida broke an arm off my glasses. Sa wheat.
They were 7years old anyway (I broke my newer ones like two years ago), so I wore them around the house as opera glasses, you know, just the one arm.

Last week she broke the other arm off. Li-zame.
I went to the optometrist this week, and turns out I've got some funky corneal mishap happening so I'm not supposed to wear my contacts until it heals (like a very long month). They did not have any of my lenses in stock to make new glasses, and Vida was being possessed by seven demons as I shopped for new glasses, so I had to leave sans new eyewear.

What did I do, you ask?

I went home and hot glue gunned those puppies back together. Yup, been wearing them out in public for three days now. I even taught a yoga class in them. Wicked.

send me a sign

I've been looking at art to put above our new fireplace,




and I've really fallen in love with hand cut paper art:

I love the idea of the sharp white against the black tile (thinking about painting the wall something strong, like a dark turquoise)

I'd love a 3D installation above my fireplace. We'll see...any thoughts my little nougats?