Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Football Season

Seth mentioned to me the other day that football season is going to be starting again soon. My immediate response was, "Oh great. My life was going so well and now it's going to be ruined." Seth looked at me with a hurt look on his face. I truthfully am not a big football fan... I've tried to like it, but just can't seem to get into it unless there's money riding on the game.

Although my comment was made as an exaggerated half-joking statement, I think Seth was kind of freaked out. Had I not spent hours with him watching the games last year during football season? Was it all a ploy to trick him into marrying me? I'm sure these were thoughts that were running through his panicked mind.

Truth be told, Seth is really very reasonable when it comes to the amount of football he watches. He typically only watches one or two games a week during the season and the games always involve teams he actually cares about. He doesn't watch football just to watch football. Although I normally sit with him the entire game, I typically don't get too excited about what's going on. I usually put a dollar or two into the completely luck-based work pool for the Superbowl however, so during that game I just get excited about the score. I find that it helps my attention level immensely.

Sometimes I'll pick a team that I want to win just to make the game more interesting to watch. I usually pick my team according to who is wearing the "prettiest outfits." I do this as a conscious girly thing because I know that's how men think women usually choose their teams. I just like to add to the stereotype. I did this during the last Superbowl and my team actually won, even though they were "not supposed to." Seth had been rooting for the other team and though I would have liked to rub it in more that I won, he just looked so dejected I didn't have the heart. I don't understand how men get so emotionally involved in a game. If I'm watching a game and my team loses, I'm over it in a minute flat. Guys can carry around the disappointment for a week. I just don't understand it.

Now to be fair, I'm sure there are things that I am involved in that Seth thinks are completely weird. I take pictures of the food I make so I can post pictures online. I send him picture messages on his phone of different haircuts so he can help me choose. I organize the closet by color. I insist on watching all episodes of Grey's Anatomy and can't understand why he doesn't want to watch it with me.

I think there are things that men and women are never going to understand about each other. We're just wired differently. But I figure if spending an afternoon snuggling with my husband on the couch and him getting a good meal is the worst we have to endure because of these differences, so be it. I'm willing to suffer the consequences.

Friday, August 8, 2008

Oh Great, We're Gonna Die

There was nothing that caused my sisters and I more grief when we were kids than the spare house key. We were some of those poor "latch-key" kids you always hear about, so we had to use a spare key to get into the house after school. For some reason we had a hard time remembering to put it back in its hiding place after unlocking the doors so we got locked out of the house on several occasions.

The first time we were locked out of the house, we freaked out. We got home from school one day and though the back door to the garage was unlocked, the door to the house was not. We went around to the sliding glass door in the backyard and looked in the window to see the spare key sitting on the kitchen table. That's when we realized that we were going to be locked outside for at least three whole hours. At that thought, we gave up on life and plopped down on the lawn in despair. What were we going to do? This was clearly the most awful thing we could imagine.

Other kids would have just gone next door to their friends' houses to play until their parents got home. Not us. We stayed there and contemplated our imminent destruction. Anytime we'd hear the phone ring inside the house we'd burst out in tears, sure it was our parents calling. They were calling to save us but we were unable to answer. So close yet so far away. Our parents were sure to come home to the dead shriveled bodies of their precious children pressed up against the window, just inches away from the phone that could have saved their lives.

This was such a traumatizing event in fact, that while we were waiting for our demise, we made sure to leave a note for future generations to read so that they'd know what had happened to the Holley sisters. In the drywall putty on the garage wall we carved the following message with the pointed end of a rusted file...

"April XX, 1988 Corinne, Karen and Annie were locked out of the house for three hours without food or water."

Imagine our shock when Dad finally came home and instead of sympathy we were met with a tone of "so what." Here we thought we'd had this tragic experience, sitting on the lawn just waiting for him to get home for three hours and he was stunned at our stupidity. Why hadn't we just went out and played like usual? It was a nice Spring day for crying out loud.

Realizing how dumb we had been was even worse than not getting the monument built in our honor that we'd hoped for. From that day on, getting locked out of the house wasn't such a big deal. We became like three little MacGyvers when it came to finding a way in. Give us a trash can, a bucket and a piece of string and we were inside in 10 seconds flat.

Tribute to Seth

OK so I'm copying this idea from my sister, Corinne, because I saw it on her blog and thought it was a good idea. I hope you have a strong stomach because this may get a little mushy....

I'm usually not as proficient with words as I want to be when trying to get across something as important as telling someone how I feel about them. So, even though I know this won't be anywhere near good enough, I'm going to try anyway and use this as my way of shouting from the rooftops what an amazing man my husband, Seth, is and how much I love him.

The first thing you'll notice about Seth even before he speaks are his beautiful blue eyes. I don't think I could ever get sick of looking at them. Sometimes when he laughs he cocks his head to the side and his eyes sparkle. It makes my stomach flutter every time.

One of the best things about Seth is his mind. I love how he is constantly wanting to learn new things. He's always reading something and when he's not reading he'll tell you about all the new bits of exciting information he's come across. Whenever I'm around him I just want to pick his brain and try to learn everything he knows. He has such a passion about everything he does whether it's playing his guitar or the book he's reading or fishing or hunting or the people he comes in contact with. His energy and knowledge are so captivating I wish I could bottle it up an take it with me everywhere.

Seth is always coming up with all these crazy ideas that sound so exciting. He could probably convince me to move to Antarctica or to sell all our stuff and live on a small boat in the middle of a lake somewhere just from the enthusiasm he would surely exude when describing it to me. He gets me to think outside of my normal boring box and open myself up to possibilities I never would have thought of.

Seth also has a mysterious side to him. Even after all the time I've spent around him he still keeps me guessing. I have always been one to people-watch and can usually tell what they're thinking just by their body language. Seth is a bit harder for me to read and I find myself constantly wondering what is going on in that great mind of his, sure he is thinking about some great complicated theory or idea. Maybe it's that side of him that makes him so good at surprising me as he occasionally does with flowers or a spur of the moment get-away.

Whenever I'm around Seth I feel encouraged to be a better person. He supports me and my interests and tries to help me improve. He doesn't complain when I make a mess in the kitchen trying out some crazy recipe I've found and happily volunteers to do the dishes. He encourages me to practice my painting or to play the piano and makes sure to laugh whenever he reads the stories I write. He always shows his gratitude for the things that I do which makes me want to continue to do them. He accepts generosity without taking advantage and is quick to show appreciation. He is also always there to contribute his fair share and to do any task I'm not very fond of.

Seth has a very good heart. He is constantly thinking about other people and how he can help them. He doesn't like to see others in pain or suffering and is always there to lend a comforting ear. He's compassionate and forgiving and one of the most non-judgemental people I know. I think that's why so many people naturally gravitate towards him. People who hardly know him will ask him for advice and share their problems and concerns with him because they can tell just by looking at him that he is truly concerned about their well-being. They know that he won't judge them or put them down for making mistakes.

I want Seth to know how much I love and admire him. He's a great inspiration to me and I feel very lucky to have him as my husband. Not only is he incredibly hot, he also has a great mind, heart and personality. He is everything I could have ever hoped for. I love him more and more everyday and thank God for allowing me to have him in my life.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008


Before you get all huffy and try to be politically correct, my Navajo friend, Ramona was the one who referred to her kind as "Injuns." The first time I heard her say it we were on break at work and she had picked up a newspaper. I was preoccupied looking at something else when she declared that there was an "Injun" on the front page. I thought she had said "engine" as in "car engine" or "train engine" so I sat there puzzled for a moment, wondering why she would bother to mention such a thing. Then after looking up and seeing the picture of a dancing "Indian" wearing his feathered ceremonially garb on the front page, I realized what she meant. Since that time Ramona has taken to saying "How" in a stearn voice when she greets people. All of us "crackers" at work get a kick out of it and wish we could all be cool Navajo Injuns too.

I wouldn't ever want to cross Ramona or any other Navajo for that matter. For some reason they have superhuman strength. While staying in her hogan on the Navajo reservation last Thanksgiving, I watched Ramona split a stack of wood with an ax. She would swing that ax way up over her head and bring it down on the wood so hard and precise like it was no big deal. Assuming I could actually hit a log with an ax is one thing, but there's no way my puny little arms could ever split a log like that with one whack, let alone a whole pile of them.

Seth and I moved into a bigger apartment just after we got married so we could fit all of our stuff in one place. The apartment is in the same complex as the old one, but I was a little concerned about the move. The new apartment had stairs going down to it meaning we would need help to move my piano. I called around to a few movers and found that it would cost several hundred dollars to have it moved professionally. After hearing this, Ramona insisted that she and her boyfriend, Gabe, would help us, along with another fellow Navajo or two. I felt bad making her help me because I know from experience that pianos are not fun to move, but accepted her offer knowing I had no other choice.

Seth was working in Colorado during that time and though he came home on the weekends, he didn't usually get home until later Saturday evening. Ramona said they'd be up to help out at 7:30 pm the day of the move, but we told her to come a little later as Seth probably wouldn't be there until 8:00pm. She insisted they come at 7:30pm, so true to her word she was there on time with Gabe and his brother, Darren.

We loaded the piano onto the special dolly I'd rented and proceeded to push it across the parking lot to the new place. On our way there, Seth sent me a text message saying he was just leaving Salt Lake. That meant it would probably be another half hour or so until he got up to Layton. It only took us a couple minutes to push the piano to the top of the small flight of five stairs that led down to the apartment and I figured we'd just wait for Seth to get there. Not so. Ramona, Gabe and Darren said they thought we could move the piano ourselves and proceeded to position themselves for the job.

The dolly I'd gotten had four handles for lifting the piano, two on each end. Gabe and Darren took the handles on the bottom end and Ramona and I took the top two. After starting to move the piano, Ramona quickly realized I was just in her way and took both handles on our end all by herself. To my surprise they lifted the several hundred pound piano down the stairs and into the apartment with seemingly little effort. I was amazed.

Not only did the Navajos move the piano, they went back with me to the old apartment to help load up the rest of the big items. They threw the top half of the mattress on top of our XTerra and lifted the TV into the back. Then they all jumped onto the outside of the vehicle and held onto the mattress as I slowly drove to the new place. I'm sure it was quite the sight.

They unloaded the mattress and then Ramona and Gabe came back to bring in the TV. I offered to help with it as it is also very heavy, but they declined my assistance. I had tried helping someone lift it on my own one time and narrowly escaped crushing my leg when I couldn't handle the weight for more than two seconds. Once again they used their super powers and carried the TV across the sidewalk and down the stairs.

Just after Ramona and Gabe moved the TV and first half of the mattress in, Seth showed up. He wasn't too disappointed to learn that he'd missed moving all the really big, heavy stuff and was just as amazed at their strength as I was.

The Navajos all stayed and helped us move the rest of the mattress and our five piece sectional couch, all items Seth and I could have easily moved ourselves. I think they all just liked to ride on the outside of the car. Seth and I were both very grateful for their help and though I still feel like it wasn't payment enough, we took them all out for pizza when we were done.

It's great to have a friend like Ramona. If you ever get a chance to get to know a Navajo, I strongly recommend it. You won't find anyone better to have on your side.


I've had a couple brushes with death in my lifetime, but none so close as the one in the winter of 1983. I was only three years old at the time, but I still think about it every now and then.

My dad decided to take Corinne and I out sledding one day in our suburban neighborhood in Taylorsville. He didn't use a regular sled... he tied a queen size air mattress to the back of his truck and Corinne and I took turns riding around on it.

During my turn, my dad drove up a street that came to a dead end and started to turn the truck around. While we were sitting there, a truck began to back out of a driveway, right in front of where I was laying on the mattress. My dad frantically honked his horn, trying to get the driver to stop, but he just kept coming. The truck backed right over top of me.

My mom had stayed at home and says she remembered hearing the ambulance drive by the house, making her heart suddenly jump with fear that maybe something had happened to us. The only thing I can remember about the whole incident was laying on my stomach on the air mattress, sticking my head out between the two wheels underneath the truck. I don't think I was old enough to even realize something bad had happened. I was taken in an ambulance still wearing my coat that had tire tracks across the back.

I'm sure everyone was expecting me to have some severe injuries... a broken back and who knows what else. But after they checked me out, they didn't find anything. Not a scratch. My parents took me home, but still sure something must be wrong, they took me back to get checked again. Nothing. We still have a picture of me sitting in a chair in that hospital, holding a latex glove blown up like a balloon, and looking very tired.

I don't know why I was spared from harm that day. In my mind I believe the Lord saved me. Why me? I don't know. There have been times in my life when I've felt really dark and alone and I think of that incident and it brings me hope. I like to think that God has something special in store for me, something he wants me to do. He needs me around for something, so I guess I'll stick around and see what he's got up his sleeve.