today/this weekend

Ross has abandoned me since Friday. It's cruel. Who is supposed to drive me around and take me where I need to go? More importantly, I don't like being home all alone with those two strangers living with me. Seriously, I'm ready to ask if YM/YW can happen at my house tomorrow night just so the Elders know that they don't have the run of the place.

I would complain more but since I want the Elders to find a new place to live . . . I won't. But I will tell you this - this morning (with the laundry soap securely hidden in my bedroom) one of the Elders hustled downstairs to interrupt my corn flakes and ask me where the laundry soap was. I (politely) told them that "we don't supply you with laundry soap" and besides - "we're out" (a white lie but I like to leave the "crucial conversations" to Greg and since he is out of town . . . ).

I took my 14 year old niece to get a "make-over" at the MAC counter this weekend. It was awesome. We should have taken before and after pictures of ourselves - we looked like a million bucks. And when it was all said and done I pretty much ended up spending a million bucks on make-up.

I also worked on perfecting my Snowcone Snake recipe for my start-up business - Drake thought it was a hit (he ate three):

Oh - and I'm pregnant. But I haven't told work yet so any of you Aprils that are reading this - BE QUIET.

a quick poll

To you faithful readers we have a quick poll that needs to be answered. We recently "discovered" that the Elders have been using our laundry soap to do their laundry. According to the housing rules, we are to provide them with access to a washing machine and dryer on one specific day a week that they may have the private use of these facilities. Does this mean we are supposed to also supply them with soap/detergent?

Of course, upon the discovery that they were using said detergent - instead of asking them about it - I've just hidden the soap. But now . . . I'm feeling guilty. So here's the question . . . do we need to provide them with laundry detergent? Yay or Nay?

P.S. Last night we were in a pinch and we went to Chili's. UGH. I'm afraid that Chili's has joined our list of restaurants that we will not go to - the other restaurant currently on the list? Sizzler.

Good News!

For all of you faithful blog readers - you'll be happy to know that we have a new Elder that is bound to provide us with lots and lots of good stories (i.e. "trying" experiences but ones that will bring us so many blessings you'll all be jealous and will end up clamoring to have those missionaries live with you).

We decided to sum up what we have learned  (so far) about our new Elder with a picture. Here you go:

He is in to mixed martial arts (i.e. Kip) + wears his pants without a belt (i.e. Ed Grimley) + and from the looks of things - he may be a hoarder. Good times. Good times.

I feel like this is kind of being rude so as a disclaimer . . . this blog post is made with love. 

true confessions

Greg and I have been married for 5.5 years and in all those 5.5 years we have pretty much never missed a Saturday night adult session of Stake Conference. When we were first married I failed to realize that it was an expectation that we always attend these events. But under the assurance of Greg telling me that "these are always the best sessions" we went. So there I sat - ticked off and mad that we were "wasting" our Saturday night. Thank goodness my friend Lindy and her husband showed up so that we could make faces at each other as the speakers pulled up a white board and identified houses in our stake boundaries that weren't LDS. It was, to put it mildly, a very "odd" adult session. Since then the adult sessions have been kind of hit or miss but we have always hit them. Once, when we first moved back to Provo, we forgot that it was Stake Conference and we left IKEA and hustled back so that we could make it. So you see - the point of this is that we have been dedicated.

Except for this weekend. We didn't go on Saturday night. Don't judge. After all that work we were starving and we needed some sustenance and we were dying. So instead, we decided to hit up Joe Bandido's and "support" a ward member/friend that works there. So you see, we had good intentions. Kind of. Really, we couldn't even remember if she was working that night but once Greg got a taste for Bandido's delicious chips (thanks to Tara and the Red Rock Relay) he had been talking about going there all week.

And of course, from everyone, we heard that really the adult session of Stake Conference was amazing and awesome and fantastic. The BEST part is that we heard that there was a slide show featuring our missionaries AND that one of the speakers said that sometimes, if they are lucky, the missionaries will come over and share a special ukulele song with her and her family. I just want to clear something up - yes, having the missionaries in our house is much better since the recent transfer but it is not all roses. For example, this morning our house was apparently a missionary party house for p-day breakfast. It was fine - but I felt a little awkward in the kitchen - hence I ate my cereal in the garage while waiting for Greg to finish getting  ready. No problem. But also just because they are missionaries - sometimes they still lose their temper - case in point - we found this busted ukulele in our garbage a couple of months ago. Apparently, one of the Elders had just had it with another one of the Elders and took it out on this poor instrument.

When the Elders move out we are going to hang this on our wall in memoriam of the experience. Kind of like a rock star's smashed guitar - but better.

Whoa. This post is verbose.

free stuff!

Let's be honest. Nothing is more inviting to a thief (at least I think this is true) than an empty house with a garage door wide open. I mean really, an open garage is pretty much welcoming, nay, taunting a thief saying, "easy target come and take our stuff - please. Pretty please." Well don't take it from me - you be the judge:

(don't mind the mess - we are working on it but see what I mean - this just hollers FREE STUFF!)

Anyway. After coming home to this "welcoming" sight three different times in about 10 days (because the Elders had "forgotten" to close the garage). I finally made a judgment call - the missionaries must lose their entering and exiting garage privileges. Sure, one missionary tried to blame the other missionary but I just told them, "It really doesn't matter - because you are a team - if one of you does it you both do it."

While Greg agreed with me, he was not as adamant about the issue as I was. About a week passed with no action and finally, I asked, "Greg, do we have to actually get robbed in order for us to change the code? Because let's face it, we've been warned that it's a possibility. So if we get robbed - it would pretty much be our fault."

That's all it took.

Sure, the missionaries were surprised when they came home that night and found that the code no longer worked. I like to think that they were surprised in a good way. Greg considered our move a little passive aggressive - I considered it a safety issue.

Now if we could just teach them that they need to bolt the front door.

riddle of the day -

What is worse than one elder and one duct taped ukulele?

I'll answer for you - two elders and two ukuleles.

Why oh why did some ward missionary think that it would be a great idea to give the Elders another ukulele?Lesson to all you out there - think twice before you do such things.

Please. Pretty please.

I'm going to stop complaining right now and start focusing on all those blessings. Starting on the count of 3 . . .

we're back . . .

You probably didn't even know we were gone. We went to St. George for a quick weekend respite. The plan was to relax, watch conference, nap, relax, etc. etc. etc. Greg also was adamant that we have Swedish pancakes - despite the chef (aka Kevin) not being there.

I took three pictures from the entire trip.

1) Greg's beautiful Swedish pancakes - Kevin isn't going to wear the crown anymore if this is any indication of Greg's ability to master the deliciousness:

 2) Elise - enjoying said Swedish pancakes:

 (She worked on that hair-do all night)

3) Anna - showing off her fresh faced make-up face. I can't decide if she looks cute or if she looks like the Joker from Batman:

and for proof that we really did watch Conference - look closely at the background of this pic.

We came home to a fishy smell. The Elders, apparently, cooked their fish. I kind of hate nothing more than the smell of fish. Finding that the smell was minimal in our bedroom, I immediately barricaded myself and refused to leave that room for the rest of the night. I prayed hard that the smell would dissipate by morning and that Greg would take care of all the rest of the unpleasantness. I think it worked.

The next time we go out of town - anyone interested in doing some chaperoning/house-sitting?

We don't need JB Fletcher to solve this one . . .

So last night when I came home from scouts I found this:















It is like an episode of Murder She Wrote, but instead of a washed-up star that is dead, it is a ukulele. I'm not pointing any fingers, yet. However, it looks like a certain elder won't be able serenade us 24/7 with the sweet sounds of the islands anymore. Who do you suppose is most happy about this? KT's whereabouts during this incident are still unknown. Where is Angela Lansbury when we need her?

March Madness updated

I'm feverishly working on trying to get my March list accomplished. But it is difficult to do without a supportive husband. I mean, honestly, who wouldn't want to organize a garage when you have this to play with? 

But instead we continue to be unable to park our one car in the three-car garage. 

But I have no doubt that having to do this:

will light a fire in his belly. At least I'm hoping.

Also, I know I wasn't going to talk about the missionaries but I have to say - yesterday, before class started some of my students were asking about it and lo and behold, one student raised her hand and said, "Is one of them Elder ________?" I just about died. I tried to pretend that it wasn't - but she didn't believe me. Oy vey!

1/2 of a marathon and 1/2 of a fish

This weekend I slogged through another 1/2 marathon in Moab. I signed up for it ages ago and when it came time to really train for it I realized that I wanted to do a lot more cross-fitting than running. So I ignored my calendar and did what I wanted. I don't regret that but I must say - this 1/2 was really not that enjoyable. Even the day before I was debating about switching to the 5 miler but I just couldn't do it. So there. Finished. Did my race. I can wear the t-shirt and not feel like a poser.

We left the missionaries to hold down the fort. We came home to find this in our freezer:

When asked about it, one Elder started talking about how he wanted to build a smoker out of cardboard and aluminum and cook it in the backyard. Greg shut that down fast. All I could think was - "oh man - they are stinking up our house as it is and now they want to cook fish too?"

Please someone - invite them over and ask them to bring the fish. Stat!

I promise - my next post will not talk about the missionaries. I promise.

enough already

I know it seems like this blog is now missionary complaint central but part of why we let the missionaries move in is because we needed some new blog material. Anyway.

The other day I came home from a demarle party (I had no idea that that kind of stuff even existed) only to find that our house smelled as if a dog had come in and taken care of its business in every room in the house.  Knowing that this was an impossibility I lit about a dozen scented candles and tried to track down the problem. Investigation solved. The stinky footed Elder and his shoes. While we have strict rules that no shoes are worn in the house we now have even stricter rules that all missionary shoes are to be left outside. Greg has also taken to surreptitiously spraying the Elder's shoes with odor eater spray. We're hopeful that this will help. And that when he gets transferred the new Elder won't have this problem.

I have also been forced to put up a reminder on one of the bathroom door's on the main floor of the house:

I told the Elders that I put it up as a helpful reminder for them because I don't want to clean up after them. I'm sure they are complaining to their parents about their mean landlords but seriously - they have their very own bathroom. Stop using ours!

Cleaning inspections are tonight. Heaven help me and my particular ways.

Missionary Chatter

With two plus months of missionaries for roommates I wanted to write down a few things I/we have learned.
1) Greg had forgotten how picky I am to live with. For example, when the missionaries leave cupboard doors open I go ballistic. Worse? When the missionaries leave their bags in the kitchen. Sure, our bags are in the kitchen . . . but it is our house. And of course, I always want Greg to talk to them about it because I am a woose/wuss.
2) One of the Elders has never met a song that he doesn't want to either sing or whistle. It's like living with one of  Snow White's dwarfs.
3) This same Elder (bless him) prefers to wash his clothes in the bathtub instead of the washing machine.
4) The Elders believe that even if they are using the smallest pot possible - they need to use the largest burner on the stove. It doesn't make any sense to me.
5) Elders don't see crumbs. They must be visually challenged that way.
6) They judge us for our television watching. Last night we decided to start watching the last season of 24 (we've never seen it) - when an Elder asked us what we were watching, Greg tried to hide it and called it "24 hours to a baptism" but they weren't fooled. I think they knew something was up when Jack killed someone with an ax.
7) The Elders LOVE it when we do home improvement projects. We painted the garage wall this weekend (pics to come) and they kept checking in on our progress. It must have been a slow day for them.
8) They never get sick of Top Ramen. Never.

crime scene

While I would like to believe that I am the best wife ever - I fail miserably in one area. Dinner. It mystifies me. Every night. Invariably, Greg and I just end up fixing our own thing and then eating together. Don't judge - it works for us (or at least it works for me). Anyway. Last night we were dinner desperate. Greg had to hustle on off to scouts (he has on his costume in the below picture) and he needed something to eat.

It was then that I committed a mortal sin . . . I suggested he eat some of the missionaries' leftovers that were innocuously sitting in our fridge (and had been for three days!) The missionaries weren't home to ask so I just heated it up in the microwave and said, "here you go!"

Sure, when a couple of weeks ago an Elder asked to eat some of our food I thought it was rude and weird. But in my defense - our food wasn't just sitting in the common fridge - it was in our private food cupboard that the Elder had (apparently) been rummaging through. I digress. I made Ross steal food from the missionaries. I am going to have to confess. And not just on the blog-o-sphere. 

*the missionaries had some homemade cordon bleu leftover in the fridge courtesy of some people that dropped food off for them since the missionaries were too busy to go to their house to eat . . . I mean - it was just sitting there. And I didn't eat any. So really - Ross is the criminal.

another fail

As I've said before and as I'm sure I'll say again - this primary bulletin board and I just don't mix. I chalk this up to another FAIL!

But I must admit - these spotlight boards are a total WIN!

In other news - I continue to remain selfish with the missionaries. We have some delicious and often hard to find "graham canyon" ice cream from the BY's Creamery (hence the need for that fancy treadmill) - the missionaries came home while we were scooping some up and I didn't even offer them any. Jerkface!  In my defense, Greg didn't offer them any either.

prisoners in our own home

True confession time.
Yesterday afternoon (Sunday) we found ourselves with some extra time on our hands, which can be tricky with the whole "Keep the Sabbath day holy" thing. After all, church is over by noon and there really is only so much napping you can do. With the missionaries out and about we felt comfortable cranking up the television and doing some exercise on our fancy equipment. While enjoying a delightful episode of "Parks and Recreation" all of the sudden Greg glances out the window and sees the missionaries walking up the driveway. We panicked and Greg started yelling "shut it down! shut it down!" we jumped off the treadmill and bike, turned off the television and ran into our bedroom so we wouldn't be "caught." It seriously was the strangest thing, after all, it is our house - isn't it?

Here's a pic to help with the visual:

P.S. The one missionary wore me down - we told him he could use the treadmill. It's kind of killing me inside but I comfort myself with all those blessings that I'm going to receive for not being selfish.

things we have learned - week 1

The Carlklef House is pretty much the MTC - what with us having missionaries for roommates. I think it is safe to say that it is going to take some getting used to - but we have learned a few things (mainly about ourselves):

1) I'm selfish. I had to tell the fresh-faced elders that they couldn't use our brand spankin' new treadmill. I told them that I was just not ready to share it yet. Or ever (but I just thought that part in my head).
2) I'm awkward. I don't think I need to expand on this part - it's just my normal self.
3) I have weird pet peeves. Case in point - as part of our rules we gave them I told them that if they ever use the bathroom off of the kitchen they need to make sure and put the toilet seat AND cover DOWN. Yes - and cover. Who wants those germs floating up when you flush? Not me. (I trained Ross on this years ago).
4) They'll eat anything. Burn some cupcakes? Give them to the missionaries - they'll eat them. Have some stale crackers you want to get rid of? Give them to the missionaries. Old candy? Fruit cake? Crumbs? They'll eat it.  It's like having a real-life garbage disposal.

So far one of the best things about this whole set-up is that we get to find out who serves the best dinners in our neighborhood - that way we can start lobbying for invitations. So far it's a tie between a couple of houses . . .