Merry Christmas, From the Allreds!

  And to all a good night.


 Thanks be to my friend, Leah, for the photo! If you want to book her, let me know and I'll get you her contact info. She's awesome.

Halloweenies 2014

   Skipping birthdays and all that junk, heeeeere's Halloween!

  So, I chose a "Firefly" (Joss Whedon's amazing space-cowboy-outlaw masterpiece) theme for this Halloween back in . . . June? I figured Lincoln's costume would take a bit of work, and mine and McKay's would be easy-peasy. I was going as Kaylee, McKay as Wash, and Lincoln as Mal. Here are some reference pictures if you don't know:

Wash upper left, Kaylee upper right, Mal on the bottom. Anyway, I figured for mine and McKay's the main thing we'd need is coveralls. McKay already had a Hawaiian shirt from a different Halloween costume that didn't pan out, and I figured there'd be a billion shirts like Kaylee's at the thrift store, it's got a very nineties vibe. 

  I . . . was wrong. My shirt was easily the hardest thing to find, I went to the thrift stores every few weeks since June and could find nothing. Also, coveralls are INSANELY expensive (at least to college students), and I looked for weeks to find some under $80. I finally found a website where they were listed at $40, and I leaped at it. Unfortunately, they didn't have any olive-khaki color in my size, so I bought the white with long sleeves. McKay's were spot on. 

  Here's a picture of my coveralls (and Lincoln, who couldn't understand the concept of a picture without him in it), after I'd already de-hemmed the sleeves into oblivion.

   Next was the dye. We don't have a washer and dryer, and I didn't want to potentially ruin a friend's next load with leftover dye, so I decided to use our sink. It was a long, long hour of turning the coveralls in the sink. And then I looked at the package for the thousandth time and realized I only had to do it for half that long. GAH.

  Here was the awful result! I was pretty disappointed at how uneven the dye job was (but, really, what had I expected with that huge thing bunched up in the tiny bathroom sink?), but then I remembered--Kaylee's coveralls aren't exactly squeaky clean. In fact, they're filthy. So I shrugged it off. And dyed them one more time in an attempt to make them slightly less mint green.

  McKay tried his coveralls on . . . to discover that the sizing was off. Way, way off. McKay's usually a 34-34, so I got a 36 to be on the safe side. When McKay pulled them on, he had a good five inches of ankle showing. I couldn't remember what site I'd bought them off of, plus I hadn't even bothered to have him try them on for MONTHS because I was so sure they were going to be large on him, so we were pretty much stuck. But since the Hawaiian shirt covered up the middle, McKay added a panel of cloth in the torso, and they fit pretty well after that. I got zero pictures of this process.

  Lincoln's costume turned out to be the easiest. Mostly thrift store finds, just needed some extra buttons on the pants for the suspenders, plus I added the brown line down the sides. The coat was from a cheap Hobbit costume we bought, so we've already got next year's Halloween pretty much covered for him.

  I had also bought some cheap temporary hair spray dye for McKay and I so we could be the brunettes/red heads we were supposed to be. I even thought I could share mine with Lincoln. But did you know that cosmetics people don't believe anyone would want to spray their hair a normal brown color? I looked at half a dozen stores, and none sold brown hair spray dye stuff. Finally found one that was labelled "burnt brown". Good enough.

  We decided to use the ward Halloween party as a test run for the hair dye. And thank goodness we did. It was a DISASTER. Dye everywhere, the fumes nearly made McKay throw up, my spray was way too dark, and because I have so much hair, it ran out before we'd finished. Leaving me with skunk hair. And McKay wasn't thrilled with his neon orange hair, either.

    Thank goodness we did it on me before Lincoln. He would've freaked the freak out.

   Lincoln kicking butt at the games. He did very well, mostly because people tend to let cute two year olds cheat. A LOT. After a few tries he gave up on throwing and gently placed the spiders inside the buckets.

   The sister missionaries were doing face painting. They nearly fainted when Lincoln said he wanted a train. I had to look up a picture of a train on my phone for reference. Lincoln liked the result at least.

  Wash, failing at bobbing for apples. He kept saying he was going to have to dunk his whole head to get the apple, but if he had that water would've been straight-up poison. Lincoln grabbed the apple for him in the end.

  And now on to real Halloween! We learned from our mistakes and decided not to try dying our hair again.

   We told Lincoln to blow off his gun, which naturally turned into raspberries.

     I'm sure there's some fanfic out there with Kaylee and Mal getting makey-outy.

   Mal probably doesn't have a runny nose in it, though.

   Lincoln was very, very ready to stop taking pictures and go trick-or-treating at this point.

Aaaand we lost him. He was off to ring doorbells.

It seemed like there were fewer houses with their porch light on this year, but Lincoln got SO EXCITED for each new house, it was really fun to watch. Every time we told him to say 'thank you', though, he would turn back to the street while signing it. After every house we'd say, "Be sure to say 'thank you' out loud, Lincoln," and make him practice. And then in the excitement of doorbells and candy he would turn his back while signing it. Again and again and again. Except for the few times he said, "Thank you out loud." The payoff was when we knocked on the door of a deaf man, who looked so excited to have someone say 'thank you' to him.

Zero recognition on our costumes, but that's okay. Nerdiness for nerdiness' sake is our game. Happy Halloween, everyone! Hope you had a fantastic, sugar-fueled night!

The Last Aspen Grove

  Now that all the summer-pallooza is over and I'm tired of moping about it, I can finally play catch up! . . . . yayyyyyyy?

  Anyway, kicking off the summer travelling was Aspen Grove! I was on the fence on whether or not to go this year, as I was in the middle of the run for "Measure for Measure", the show I was currently in. I arrived at Aspen Grove two days late (Monday, the something-th) beacuse the ONE Sunday show "M4M" had was the weekend Aspen Grove started. I was also supposed to leave Aspen Grove a day early because I had to get back to Oregon for the ONE Thursday show we had. Bad timing all around. But as it was The Last Aspen Grove, I really wanted to be there, even if it was only for three days.

  And, boy, did Aspen Grove want to make those days memorable.

  The weather in late June can be dicey at times, given "June Gloom" and whatnot. But we've been there many, many years in June (we've been going for twenty years, after all), and I didn't think much about packing anything heavier than a light jacket for Lincoln and myself.

  So of course this ensued:

  Okay, that might be anticlimactic if you can't tell what happening. If that's the case, IT WAS SNOWING. IN LATE JUNE. ON PIONEER FUN TIME THINGY NIGHT. ON MOM'S BIRTHDAY.

  Those last two weren't especially shocking, but I like emphasis.

  We got up to the usual Aspen Grove shenanigans before this whole snowing business, though.

  Like turtle riding.

 Hanging out with cousins. This is actually Lincoln's cousin, Autry, who spread the joy of Winnie the Pooh like a disease. An adorable, catchy-tune DISEASE.

 Lincoln playing with his new car with Grandpa Ken.

Aren't my parents adorable? No one told them to do this. They just snuggle for all the world to see, like they like each other or something.

  It was great seeing everyone, but from the first night there was a problem.

  The first night I got there we went to Tucano's to celebrate Mom's birthday (a few days early so as not to interfere with Pioneer Fun Night Thingy [not actual name] which none of us ended up going to due to SNOW).

  Tucano's was basically a disaster. After we put two large tables together (managing to break two plates in the process), my little niece Kaylee threw up. We chalked this up to the winding road to get there from Aspen Grove and proceeded to order.

  And then she threw up again. And again. The waiter took this all in good stride, bless him.

  Just a few minutes before we were leaving, Lincoln spilled his (very sticky) juice all over the floor, and threw the crackers I'd given him into the sticky juice puddle for good measure.

  The waiter earned a very, very good tip that night.

  We optimistically hoped that Kaylee's upset stomach was food related. But as it slowly spread through our ranks, we became steadily more paranoid. Friendly hugs and other touching became a distant memory of happier times.

  Thursday at midnight, the day I was scheduled to leave, I woke up and  knew I was doomed.

  At least once an hour I was forced to leave my bed and rush for the bathroom. I would have sobbed through the night, but I was too tired. I got no sleep, and I (being the wienie I am) prayed I would either get better soon or die. The one mercy was that Lincoln slept through the entire thing, despite sleeping in a rickety crib at the foot of my bed.

  I had to cancel my flight and miss one of my last three shows. I felt dreadful on every level. Mom was an angel of mercy and took Lincoln for the entire day. By noon I managed to fall in and out of sleep between bathroom visits. Doctor Who playing on my phone was my only company.

  It was better that way.

  The next day I was feeling much better, if not at 100%. Mom drove me to the airport and halfway down the mountain, Lincoln threw up.

  That was when I cried.

  Turned out to be a false alarm (warm milk mixed with winding drive is not a good idea, in case you were wondering), and we got home without a hitch. HOORAY!

  Flying back home I was less sad that I would not be returning to Aspen Grove. Thanks for all the other memories, though, AG. The non-vomit related ones. It really was good times. I'll miss the week of not preparing my own food. Of seeing my extended family. Of trampolines, crafts, the incredibly cheap-priced candy store, actually getting exercise without it feeling like a chore, and so much more.

  Insert sweet, memorable last line here.

The Week of the Gallbladder

  About a month ago, I woke up at four AM on a Sunday morning in extreme pain. The kind of pain you can't escape from, not with changing position, not with pills, there's no relief, ever. McKay was sweet and stayed up with me, looking things up on Web MD and giving me massages, but nothing seemed to help.

  At eight, I was giving up hope that the pain was going to go away by itself, so I texted my Dad. Who informed me that my time was up. It was Gallbladder Season, a very much non-magical time in every Beesley girl's life when your gallbladder just up and decides that it hates you and wants to cause as much havoc as possible before it's removed.

  Fast forward one week. My gallbladder is removed. This made me happy, not just because it meant I could eat cheese again (a week without cheese is a long week indeed), but because it meant the bestest possible outcome ever.

  My mom was coming to take care of me.

 The first couple of days were pretty quiet. My big outing Monday was going to Costco, and even that left me shaking by the end. Getting your gallbladder out is weird, because for the first week, you can feel your organs rearranging themselves every time you stand up. It's a funny, nauseous kind of feeling. But by Wednesday, I was able to stand for longer periods of time.

  Mom is like a fairy godmother, making everything better everywhere she goes. And, like Cinderella's godmother, I always end up looking a whole lot better by the time she leaves. This is because we both love shopping, and I live pretty close to a tax-free outlet mall. Woot, Oregon!

  Thursday I was recovering from our epic shopping trip, so we stayed more low-key, walking around Corvallis' downtown, and eating far too much dessert at a local bakery.

   I loved showing Mom Oregon, because it was like everything was new and exciting again. Flowered bushes? BEAUTIFUL. Victorian houses? GORGEOUS. A bridge over a lake? AMAZING. I think I almost had Mom converted and ready to move . . . until the snake. But we'll not get too into that. Suffice to say, Mom's screaming broom action, herding the snake out my front door (yes, it was indoors. IN MY KITCHEN), was the most terrifying, hilarious thing I've ever seen.

  Friday was our last day, and Mom really wanted to see Newport. We stopped at the aquarium first.

   This otter was either snoozing, or doing a great impression of it. 

The sea lions were a big hit.

   I love the aquarium in Newport because they've got lots of interactive parts for kids. It was hard to tear Lincoln away from every section. Lincoln loved fishing, though eventually he figured out it was just easier to reach in the barrel and grab them out by hand. Who needs a pole? I think if he ever goes fishing for reals, though, he's going to be disappointed that magnets are not actually the best bait.

   Touching an anemone. You're allowed in this part, I promise. It's pretty awesome.

  LOOK AT IT, GRANDMA. LOOK AT IT ALL.

After the aquarium, Lincoln was pretty close to shutting down completely. It was already past nap time, and he was FREAKING OUT. But Mom really wanted to see the beach. So we headed over to the coast, and thank goodness we did, because I've never seen such fantastic weather there. Not only was it not very windy, the water was, if not warm, a tolerable kind of cold! AMAZING!

   Lincoln took some convincing at first that the sand was not, in fact, evil. He mistrusted it deeply, but once we got in the cooler, more hard-packed stuff by the water, he seemed to have accepted it. Even, dare I say, enjoy it.

  Once Mom and Lincoln were in the water, all bets were off. Lincoln LOVED the waves, racing in until he was chest-deep. I, being the over-prepared Beesley that I am, had brought him a swimsuit and change of clothes, but hadn't really expected I'd need it. But it turned out that for once I wasn't prepared ENOUGH, as Mom and I both wished we'd done the same for us. Lincoln continued to run heedlessly into the waves, laughing manically, having no healthy amount of fear in him. Luckily Mom was always next to him, holding his hand as he charged deeper and deeper into the water. He probably could have continued to jump in the waves for hours, but once he started shivering we decided to call it quits. He fell asleep almost instantly on the way home.

   For reasons we could never discern, Lincoln called my mom "Die-to" all week. Not sure what that was about, but when she drove away Saturday, the rest of the weekend he would look around and fretfully ask, "Die-to? Die-to?" It broke my heart, because I missed her, too.

  Mom's the best. Wish I had another gallbladder to remove to get her back.

  OH, also, you want to see what gallstones look like?

  Yuuup, my body made those. Pretty gross, right? Lincoln was fascinated and liked using the container as a maraca. I'm eternally grateful that the lid didn't pop off.

Easter 2014

  Lincoln loved dying eggs, but easily staining dye makes me anxious, so McKay was put in charge of helping Lincoln with all artistic endeavors.

   But they quickly finished their designs, and Lincoln became much more fascinated with the stickers. But if it was fun to put them on the eggs, that was nowhere near as fun as it was putting them on daddy. And McKay retaliated in kind.

The Master at work.

The day of the big event, Lincoln had no recollection of how Easter worked from last year. He went outside with his basket, and this ensued:

  Kind of long and boring if you're not his grandparent, sorry (also, "Snape" is what we call the snake that lives under our carport, in case you were wondering). Once he realized candy was in those plastic suckers, though, all bets were off. Which was good, getting in the spirit of things, EXCEPT that every single egg he picked up, he immediately wanted to crack open and consume his spoils. Normal reaction, but there was a problem: I always buy far, far too much candy. I restrained myself to two bags this year. But neither of those included Cadburry Mini Eggs or the Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs. So I had to get a bag of each of those, too. The end result being that we had SO MANY EGGS, we had to come inside to dump out his basket so there would be room for more.
 Twice.
 I have a problem.

 The hard-won spoils of war. Or Easter.

 

 Another Easter egg hunt video, if you're so inclined:

  Lincoln's problem was that once he actually had found all 4,326 eggs, he still wanted more. Not candy, necessarily. Just the thrill of the chase. So, despite my declarations that the Easter Bunny only comes once, McKay re-hid the eggs. Four times. Eventually Lincoln got tired of waiting while McKay hid the eggs, so he started hiding them himself, too. This largely consisted of him throwing the eggs randomly, three of which ended up under the car. We're too big and too lazy to crawl under the car (or, heaven forbid, move it), so McKay cajoled Lincoln into hunting them himself.

 "How do we get to it? Hmmm . . . "

SUCCESS!

  And then lots and lots and lots of candy was consumed by all. And we all lived happily ever after, the end.