Here's one of the houses Mike worked on in Big Sky. The rock work is hard to see down on the lower level, but we like the look of the rails, since that's what we're doing on our porch and eventually, our deck.
Friday, December 31, 2004
Love Shack
Here's one of the houses Mike worked on in Big Sky. The rock work is hard to see down on the lower level, but we like the look of the rails, since that's what we're doing on our porch and eventually, our deck.
Tuesday, December 28, 2004
Regarding Napoleon
Okay, it's a week late, but here it is.
Overall, I liked Napoleon Dynamite. Funny, slightly heartwarming. I get it. And, dude--the dance scene. Oh, Darrin's Dance Grooves. Classic.
Things that bugged me:
Above all, the pace. SO ANNOYINGLY SLOW. Timing, people, timing! This was a 30-minute short stretched to 88 minutes. I realize that this may have been an artistic expresion of life in Preston, Idaho--it may truly be slow as molasses--but I'm glad I watched this on DVD so I could watch it with the forward on the slow parts.
Related to timing--the action. Plot, people, plot. Get to the point. I've got two kids to feed, bathe, and put to bed while folding three loads of wash and cleaning up dinner. If I give you 90 minutes of my life, I want ACTION. (I don't mean an "action movie"--just a really moving or hilarious plot)The plot was good, but again, it was only enough to fill a half-hour.
Mean-spirited/ Inside joke. In all the funniness, I felt that the characters you're supposed to sympathize with were almost unloveable caricatures (overboard on the costuming and anachronisms--but again, maybe that's Preston). Except the girl--man, she was really good. And of course, by the end, you like all the heroes and stuff, but it takes so long for them to do the heroic stuff! Holy cow, I was like, "wake me up when it's the election day!" It was hard to like anybody in the movie until the end. The movie also felt like a big inside joke between high school friends. When I went back and watched some of the movie witht he commentary on, I found out that's pretty much what it is.
So for a really long SNL skit written by boys making fun of their home town, it's really good. I will watch it again sometime, but that doesn't mean it wasn't annoying as heck.
PS: Coolest thing about the movie--the cinematographer was my next door neighbor in Provo '95, and that guy is the most fun, elf-like person I have ever met. He used to dance when he saw his finacee (now wife) coming because he was excited to see her. And they had the coolest wedding announcement I have ever seen. Hmm. Fun coincidence.
Overall, I liked Napoleon Dynamite. Funny, slightly heartwarming. I get it. And, dude--the dance scene. Oh, Darrin's Dance Grooves. Classic.
Things that bugged me:
Above all, the pace. SO ANNOYINGLY SLOW. Timing, people, timing! This was a 30-minute short stretched to 88 minutes. I realize that this may have been an artistic expresion of life in Preston, Idaho--it may truly be slow as molasses--but I'm glad I watched this on DVD so I could watch it with the forward on the slow parts.
Related to timing--the action. Plot, people, plot. Get to the point. I've got two kids to feed, bathe, and put to bed while folding three loads of wash and cleaning up dinner. If I give you 90 minutes of my life, I want ACTION. (I don't mean an "action movie"--just a really moving or hilarious plot)The plot was good, but again, it was only enough to fill a half-hour.
Mean-spirited/ Inside joke. In all the funniness, I felt that the characters you're supposed to sympathize with were almost unloveable caricatures (overboard on the costuming and anachronisms--but again, maybe that's Preston). Except the girl--man, she was really good. And of course, by the end, you like all the heroes and stuff, but it takes so long for them to do the heroic stuff! Holy cow, I was like, "wake me up when it's the election day!" It was hard to like anybody in the movie until the end. The movie also felt like a big inside joke between high school friends. When I went back and watched some of the movie witht he commentary on, I found out that's pretty much what it is.
So for a really long SNL skit written by boys making fun of their home town, it's really good. I will watch it again sometime, but that doesn't mean it wasn't annoying as heck.
PS: Coolest thing about the movie--the cinematographer was my next door neighbor in Provo '95, and that guy is the most fun, elf-like person I have ever met. He used to dance when he saw his finacee (now wife) coming because he was excited to see her. And they had the coolest wedding announcement I have ever seen. Hmm. Fun coincidence.
Saturday, December 25, 2004
Warm Fuzzies
Since there is a lull in the Cousin Chaos (picture that scene in "A Christmas Story" with all the kids crashed out on the wrapping paper in the trashed living room), I thought I'd write that funny Sunday story I mentioned earlier.
I was teaching all the Young Women last Sunday during the third hour of church (which I almost didn't attend at all because my kids were up all night and I was thrashed). I wasn't really up to speed, but neither were the other two possible teachers, so-- I taught by default. I had a nice little story to read and then I thought we'd eat some treats and tell our own Christmas stories and experiences.
I asked if the girls ever had a Christmas where they gave more than they received, or if they'd gone out with their families to serve someone else. They all looked at me like I was speaking Chinese, then one piped up with this gem (imagine this spoken really fast by a breathless twelve year old):
"One time, it was really close to Christmas and we were at church and my mom got kind of upset and we left during sacrament meeting and we went home and my mom said we needed to serve so we made tons and tons of banana bread and we drove all over delivering them and we were driving down this hill to go home and it was slick and my mom hit the brick wall and wrecked the car... But we didn't get hurt."
Ummm...yeah [I couldn't think--I had no game what so ever]. So the moral of the story is...ummm... I didn't know what to do with that one.
Luckily the bishop, who was the only adult in the room who DID have game, offered this moral to the story: "Well, that's what you get for leaving sacrament early."
You can make ANYTHING into a fable if you're willing to get creative (and you've had a good night's sleep).
I was teaching all the Young Women last Sunday during the third hour of church (which I almost didn't attend at all because my kids were up all night and I was thrashed). I wasn't really up to speed, but neither were the other two possible teachers, so-- I taught by default. I had a nice little story to read and then I thought we'd eat some treats and tell our own Christmas stories and experiences.
I asked if the girls ever had a Christmas where they gave more than they received, or if they'd gone out with their families to serve someone else. They all looked at me like I was speaking Chinese, then one piped up with this gem (imagine this spoken really fast by a breathless twelve year old):
"One time, it was really close to Christmas and we were at church and my mom got kind of upset and we left during sacrament meeting and we went home and my mom said we needed to serve so we made tons and tons of banana bread and we drove all over delivering them and we were driving down this hill to go home and it was slick and my mom hit the brick wall and wrecked the car... But we didn't get hurt."
Ummm...yeah [I couldn't think--I had no game what so ever]. So the moral of the story is...ummm... I didn't know what to do with that one.
Luckily the bishop, who was the only adult in the room who DID have game, offered this moral to the story: "Well, that's what you get for leaving sacrament early."
You can make ANYTHING into a fable if you're willing to get creative (and you've had a good night's sleep).
On Christmas Eve Day at about 2:30, we all went out to Angie's (Rich's sister's) place (just west of town) to have a big cousin sledding party. I was designated photographer because of my unfortunate snow allergy. This photo shows the hill we were riding; the following photos show some of the action. They also show that Heidi was in the weirdest mood and we couldn't get our normally shiny-happy baby to even crack a smile. Maybe she's allergic, too (darn those desert rat genes).
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