Blogging Shmogging

I'm still rather new to this whole blogging thing.  It took me a while to get into it.  After reading other peoples' blogs about their perfect recipes and idyllic children, it seemed to me that my lackluster attitude toward cooking and "parenting by the seat of my pants" style were not enough.  I would feel more down than inspired.

My online publicist pressed the issue claiming that it would be "good for business."  I resisted.  She started one for me--even wrote the posts herself, bless her heart.  But that didn't feel very authentic and I hate feeling like a faker.  So I started writing.  Little by little I began to remember how much I love creative writing.  Now it seems, I am a pathetic blogging maniac--always checking my friends' blogs for updates and re-checking my own for any sign of a comment.  Ridiculous.  Please, blogging veterans, tell me it gets old. 

This blog is to be a place where I can just be Mindy; a place where there's no expectation to put my best foot forward.  Expect off the cuff remarks, photo essays highlighting the rotten food and mountain of dishes in the sink, and a promise of the most CRA-ZAY (as Hailey would say) family pics you've ever seen.  But please, also expect shared inspiration, music topics, and interviews with the down-to-earth people that I love.

Tomorrow will be my first Fam Friday post.  Each Friday I will introduce you to a member of my family.  Get ready for some seriously shocking photos . . .

Mindy and sisters Angi (middle) and Vicki (right).  Backpacking trip, Olympic Coast, WA.

Tree Street Tuesdays

Before the snow fell yesterday, I noticed little hints of bulbs pressing through the chocolate colored soil in the garden.  Spring in the Tree Streets is always anticipated with the same excitement of a four year old on the night before their fifth birthday.  Come Mother's Day, all chit chat revolves around the how-to's and what-nots of gardening.  

Not more than sixty years ago this land was still doused with fruit trees of every kind--apricot, pear, apple, peach, plum, cherry, hence the nick name "The Tree Streets."  Orchards spilled down from the mountainside up until the time it was developed in the Brady Bunch era.  Old-timers recall when 900 East was nothing but a dirt road.  There were only a few families thriving on this rugged mountain terrain--The Muhlesteins, Leichtys, Calders, and Taylors.  Descendants of these families still live here.  I spoke with Joan Muhlestein on the phone tonight.  She is the grand-daughter of Joseph and Alice Muhlestein who originally broke ground here in the late 1800s.  She still lives in their pioneer home on Old Willow Ln. and claims she will "stay there until she croaks." 

People move here and they never want to leave.  The Glediator has lived on four different streets in this neighborhood throughout his life.  I have lived on three since I met him here in 1997.  We have tried to move away, but somehow get drawn back every time.  I love the people who live here.  A significant part of the population teach or once taught at BYU.  Professors and scholars of every kind have been infiltrated into the grid.  Artists, writers, actors, musicians and the like seem to appear on every corner.  Our home on Cherry Ln. was previously owned by Newell Daley.  He penned "I Feel My Savior's Love" and taught trumpet lessons to a young Kurt Bestor in our study.  

I am delighted to introduce you to these dear friends and neighbors.  Starting next Tuesday I will begin a series called Tree Street Tuesdays by posting a weekly interview with someone from the neighborhood.  In fact, I have a few other series in mind.  Stay tuned for Musician Monday and Family Friday!  I think I might have an alliteration addiction . . .

Glutton-Girl Strikes Again!

Gluttony is derived from the Latin word glutirre which means to gulp down or swallow.  In my language, pigging out would be a synonymous  term.  I fear I've been one serious oinker this week.   As you may know, Monday was a very eventful day for me.  I ate nothing but a breakfast burrito from Mi Ranchito.  No time.  By Tuesday morning I was ready to go into hibernation mode.  I slept almost all day.  Then Tuesday night I didn't sleep a wink.  My body's state of equilibrium took a turn for the worse.  I took one look at my sunken eyes in the mirror and said, "To heck with it all!  I'm going to eat whatever I want, when I want, and I'm not even going to so much as LOOK at my running shoes for the rest of the week!!!"  The results are in:  3 mint oreo milkshakes from Carl's Junior, 2 orders of chicken taquitos from El Azteca Taco Shop, 2 trips for take out at Bajio, 5 (soon to be 6) of the most amazing cupcakes I have ever tasted in my entire life, pasta with salsa rosata from Gloria's Little Italy (one of my favorite dishes) with their crazy delicious garlic bread, followed by two pints of coconut and donatella gelato from Meastro's.  Those are just the highlights. 

While gluttony is considered one of the seven deadly sins, I must confess, it has felt AWESOME.  At least, it did for the first several days.  Now?  I am starting to feel like a beached whale.  It's time for Glutton Girl to transition back into being Granola Girl.  

New Songs

Many of you have been asking about the two new songs I sang at the benefit concert.  They have not yet been published and are not available for purchase but I'll be happy to leave them up for a few days.  Both songs are copyright 2009 Blue Morph Music.  Please enjoy them!   

Syn-er-gy

Photograph by Haley Warner

Synergy:  The interaction of two or more agents or forces so that their combined effect is greater than the sum of their individual effects.

Over the course of the last 24 hours I have envisioned myself as a spirit surveying the beautiful collage of events in slow motion at the Nie benefit concert.  At 7:15 p.m. over a hundred people wait at will call, hopeful to get a seat in a sold-out 7:00 p.m. show.  Splashes of color flood the lobby where oil paintings, jewelry and furniture among other treasures, have been lovingly given to be auctioned off.  Volunteers that arrived in the morning are still scuffling around ten hours later, attending to every whim, every detail.  Backstage, the green room is alive with laughter.  Snacks and drinks are consumed. Matt Mattson strums a guitar while the Thrillionaires spout off witty song lyrics.  Krista Maurer magically seems to be in three places at one time banishing this disaster and that with the flick of her wand.  From the shadows of the back of the theater, Rod Elwood illuminates my shoulders with star dust.  Joe Anderson turns knobs and mixes instruments that reverberate through the hall and settle on our ears like a soft kiss.  I move across the stage and look into your faces.  I open my mouth and a voice flows out that doesn't feel like my own.  

It feels like a gift.  

You feel like a gift.  

Together we give.  

It is breath taking.

Backstage, behind curtains, two adoring parents listen as their daughters sing like angels.  They are the recipients of this night's display of love.  Yet, they may not yet comprehend just how much they've given to us and our hearts are full to the point of bursting!  This is synergy.

  

Still In My Jammies

Sorry.  Recovering from the most INCREDIBLE night of my life.  Will post details soon.  I'm off to meet my twin brother at the Italian Place for a Philly 'N Everything sandwich.  For now, you can view some photos of the concert captured by the talented Haley Warner here.  A million thanks to all of  you who came and supported Nie Nie.

Love For Nie Nie Concert Today!!!

Click here to buy tickets to the concert tonight.  The theater is almost full so hurry!  This is going to be awesome.  I love you Stephanie.