Dance Recital Video: Kids Clogging!

Here's Nathan and Megan's first clogging dance: "Thank You For Letting Me Be Myself"





Here's their second dance: "Get Your Head in the Game"



Pretty good for first years, dontcha think? Say yes.

Spring Dance Recital !

May 31 brought us to the pinnacle of our dancing year - the Recital. Because I wimped out and got knee surgery, I did not dance in the recital, but my kids did. I was backstage helping with costume changes, while Tom and my dad recorded the still and video footage. Thanks guys.


This woman is the creator of it all. My good friend Amidey (aka The Talented One) selects the music, creates all the choreography, and teaches all of the dances to forty-some-odd students spread among several classes. There are ballerinas as young as 3 years old, clear up through cloggers in their early teens. Her abilities and patience continually amaze and astound me. This girl is the real deal.



Here is a portrait taken under duress of our adult beginner clogging class. From left to right, Erin, Me, The Talented One, and Jessica on the front row. This class has been a riot, and I continued to attend class even after it was clear that I would not be able to limp through the recital, just to laugh with (and at) these awesome women.


And here is a sample of Jessica's default attitude, which contributes much to the chaos and fun of the class. Have I mentioned that I love this kid? I am so glad she moved to town so we could become joined at the hip. It is because of her that I decided to try clogging, and I am so very glad that I did.

Here is Nathan on stage while dancing "Get Your Head in the Game". He looked awesome with his big smile and high knees. He really enjoys clogging and I am just thrilled.


Megan the ballerina. This girl dances in her sleep, I think. The other morning she got out of the shower and while standing in front of the bathroom mirror in a puddle of water on the tile floor, prepared to do a pirouette. Naked. In a puddle of water. I kiboshed that one, and then five seconds later when I turned around again, she was clogging! Heaven help me if that kid breaks her neck someday.


If I can get blogger to work, I'll post videos of the dances. I had a clip uploading, but I want to go to bed now. I'll try again tomorrow.

Chick Update - four weeks old

I meant to take pictures every week and post... but I didn't. I can't even bring myself to apologize, since this blog is supposed to be for fun and I refuse to turn it into a "must do".

Anyway. Today I was sitting on the couch and remembered that I had wanted to blog about the birds, but that would mean getting up off the couch to crutch out to the pen with the camera and then back in... and I felt tired. Then I thought, "I should get Susan to go take the pictures." And what do you know, not five minutes later, Susan came upstairs, and announced that she was going to take pictures of the chicks. That girl's still got her psychic powers.




Nathan and my dad helped me build this moveable range shelter, aka "The Shack". Karianne dubbed it thusly when I was thinking of using corrugated tin for the roof. We changed our minds to polycarbonate, but the name stuck. It's 8 feet long, four feet wide, and two feet tall. Half of it is enclosed with plywood which will soon be covered with polycarbonate sheets to weatherproof it.

You can see the large white meat birds here. They used to look like this four weeks ago.


They enjoy being able to scratch and dig for bugs and worms. Whenever one of them finds a worm, they run away from the others, which of course alerts everyone that someone has a worm, so a general chase ensues. It's pretty funny.

Here's Bokbadok, my namesake. She's nearly fully feathered out now. Kinda cute, huh?



Here's a live-action video that shows how much bigger they are than the golden hens. They're slow and dumb. Dumber even than the hens. And that's saying something.

The Shack gets moved every day, and the birds are always thrilled to get to new ground so they can rip it to shreds. They seem quite happy in their new abode and I am thrilled to have them out of the garage. Four more weeks and the meat birds will be in the freezer. We'll be sure to chronicle butchering day. I'll bet you can't wait!

A neighbor came over and asked if she could borrow some birds for insect control. This is the year of the roly-poly bug. They are literally everywhere. So I sent her off with three of the extra males, since I don't particularly care if I get them back or not. I'm thinking that this bug problem could be a good thing... maybe the neighbors will be GLAD I have bug eaters they can borrow, instead of being annoyed that the bishop's wife is a crazy chicken lady.

It's all about spin.

Piled Higher and Deeper

In the summer of 2002 we sold our home in San Jose, California, and moved to Utah. My husband, a six-figure electrical engineer, had decided that he wanted a PhD. So back to BYU we came.

He spent five years working with the hardware in this box...

...to produce this coolio poster. And also a thick hardbound book filled with some alien language that engineers speak. I've heard it referred to as "Higher Math". All I know is you have to have testosterone coursing through your veins to even have a chance at understanding it. Whatever. As long as it pays the bills, I don't care if they call it "SOQPSK".

In the fall of 2007 he finished his very large and very impressively titled dissertation in said alien language, and received his diploma for the December 2007 graduation. Because BYU does not hold commencement exercises in December, he elected to walk in the April Commencement. Actually he didn't really want to, but I persuaded him with the argument that it isn't every day that one earns a PhD. I wanted his kids to have a sense of closure. And I think he looks purty darn handsome in the Robes of the False Priesthood, if I do say so myself. Oh, baby.

And here he is, in all his Philosophical Glory:


The three stripes and the weensy little tassle, along with the huge blue hood on the back, indicate his rank as a Doctor of Philosophy. Purty speshul, huh?

Here's a full shot of the hood. Later I found out that he gets to keep the hood, just in case he attends another commencement someday. Cool. I think I'll store it with my wedding bouquet.

Tom's parents, Norm and Marj Nelson, made the trip to support Tom in his achievement.

As did my father, Arlon Hibbert. It was so nice to have them all come.

Then the kids each got a turn with dad's cool mortar board hat.



Karianne and Susan had a bit of trouble keeping the thing on.




So now the graduate school chapter is behind us. Way to go Tom!

The End of Life As We Know It

Folks, I really do have a good excuse for not posting for nearly three weeks. Really I do.

Three weeks ago today, Tom got "The Call."


It was all very sneaky. Tom has been on the stake high council for the last two years, so the Stake Exec Secretary calls all the time. I know this because we have caller ID and when I see the name "Church of Jes" on it, I know that it is not for me, because it is the SESec calling from the Stake Offices. So over the last two years we have been lulled into complacency by the sometimes multi-weekly phone calls from "Church of Jes", and gave them nary a thought.

So when on a Sunday evening three weeks ago, the phone rang and I saw that same ID on the phone display, I let Tom pick it up like I always do. Later, as we were getting ready for bed, Tom semi-casually mentioned that we had an appointment to meet with the Stake President on Tuesday evening.

I looked at him blankly for a second, my progress in putting my pajama pants on arrested. "Wha...?"

He repeated his previous sentence, a little more slowly.

"But but... but... you meet with the Stake President all the time, don't you? Don't you?!"

"I think this is It."

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagggghhhhhh!!!

And that is why I haven't posted. Because in that moment, life as I knew it ended, and I began to contemplate my future as... The Bishop's Wife.

Oddly enough, after the initial shockwave that blasted through my mind had subsided, and I had cried my eyes out until all that was left were smoldering holes, I felt an unanticipated sense of calm and... rightness.

Today he was ordained and set apart. About two dozen people stopped me and told me they "knew" he was going to be the next bishop. Either I live in a ward full of seers, or that was their way of saying that they like and admire him and feel he will do a great job. I happen to agree completely with that assessment.

His wife is a completely different story. The word "trainwreck" comes to mind.