The Iron Lateral Malleolus

In Loving Memory of Whiz's Healthy Lateral Malleolus

Outdoor winter sports and I have never been real good friends. I always seem to lose circulation to my extremities within minutes of playing around in the snow. When I was younger, my family and I would go skiing in some of the "best snow on Earth". I would zoom down the hill for about five seconds and then WHAM, massive face plant into the snow. Tears. Cold. More Tears. My dad telling me to get up. Another face plant. Tears. And by 11AM, I was about ready to use my skis to bludgeon anyone who encouragingly told me to keep trying. This was why I was not super excited when I found out my family-in-law wanted us to go skiing with them this weekend. Conversation with my mom on the Wednesday before

Me: Mom! Guess what I am going to do this weekend?

Mom: What?

Me: Going skiing with the Sels!

Mom: Oh no.

Me: Guess what else I am going to do this weekend?

Mom: Go to the emergency room?

Me: Ha. Funny.Why do you always expect me to get hurt?

Little did my mom know she was predicting the future. I did go to the emergency room this weekend. My father-in-law is a beast. He is technically 51, but he neither looks it nor acts like it. I would Wii fit him at 23-years-old. We will come back to this wonderful fellow in just a jiff. I have to foreshadow the story so it makes it even more entertaining and suspenseful for you. Sel, Kit, Caboodle, Briz, Briz's buddy, Whiz, KT, Hans, & Bobert (look how secretive this names are..and yet how amazingly cool. Bet they wish these were their real names) all headed up to Powder Mountain early in the morning. Sel and I got to take a skiing lesson with a friendly, love-struck instructor for three hours of powdery fun. Guess what? I didn't fall AT ALL. Yup, not once. In fact, it was easily the most fun I have EVER had skiing. I had Sel, the fresh mountain air, Joe the instructor, and only mildly cold fingers. Blissful. Sel and I even had a few racing games after lunch. I got to have a 60 second head start and then Sel would try and beat me to the bottom. I beat him...kind of...sorta..not at all. Sel's the best. Ever.

Now back to that early foreshadowing reference. Whiz, Sel's poptart, went off with Briz & BB to dodge pine trees in the fresh powder. They took on black diamond runs, double black diamond runs, diamond headed spears dipped in poison runs. They were kind of a big deal (still are). Not as cool as Sel and I on the green circles of course, but not too shabby. We called my parentals as we rolled on back to G&G's house to announce zero fatalities and injuries. We gleefully trotted into the house to tell the rest of the fam about our glorious day. Sixty seconds later, Briz came in to announce Whiz's ankle was broken. We stared at him suspecting he was telling a story. False. He was not. We found Whiz laying just outside the front door with his ankle draped unnaturally over the one and only step. The Sels were calm to the core. They gently picked up Whiz and carried him to the car. To keep him from going into shock on the ride to the hospital, Sel had to have him touch his iphone for comfort. I have never seen a happier patient than Whiz. Whiz is a radiologist who has never broken a bone or even been a patient in the hospital. He seemed fascinated to be the patient for once. He just snuggled up with his morphine, iPad, and iPhone in that ever comfortable hospital bed and asked to look at the x-rays so he could diagnose himself. 8 screws, one plate, and four hours later, Whiz easily came out of anesthesia to enjoy an orange popsicle (he was on drugs. He couldn't appropriately discern how nasty of a flavor the hospital demons were giving him). He and DSW shoes than drove the three or so hours back to IF without complaint. He even went into work today. Oh and they inserted a retractable knife into his ankle so he can karate slash anyone who threatens him. That's my dad-in-law folks. Be jealous of his awesomeness.

The Orange Reality

First, I have to confess my husband is the best human ever :) Yesterday, I passed out on our couch (in a normal exhausted way, not in a lack of blood to the brain way) and the handsome fellow carried my limp body to bed. And then he snuggled up next to my drooling face even though I was too tired to get up and brush my teeth. That my friends is love.

Second, a boy passed me on the stairs the other day and decided to welcome me to Space Camp. He informed me it was two miles to the summit and then his black trench coated self vanished into the Smith Field House Forest.

Third, I did the most unspeakable thing. For as long as I can remember I have hated orange anything. Mandarin oranges. Cuties. Orange starbursts. Orange skittles. Orange sour patch kids. Sour patch kids in general. Orange M&M's. Orange cats. Orange fruit loops. Orange highlighters. Sunny D. Naval oranges. Blood oranges. Sunkist oranges.

Do you get it yet?

Sel and I made a bet months ago on how long it would take our brother-in-law to kiss a girl after he got back from his mission. I lost. If Sel lost, he was to eat a cup of mint ice-cream (his least favorite flavor in the world). If I lost, I had to eat (shudder) an orange.

Last week, I finally owned up to my part of the bet. It took a bit because I really didn't want to admit I lost...and because I fetching detest oranges.

Until now...I ate an orange. And I liked it. I think. It has been taking me awhile to adjust to this alternate reality where oranges might not taste like arsenic. I still am not sure who I really am anymore. I might even think of eating another one to help me decide what my new purpose in life might be instead..

Gramsified

(Grams explaining to me how to become amazing like her)

You know how people always think they have the most adorable grandma in the world? Okay, so maybe that only happens with children, BUT if this was a normalcy, I would absolutely win the contest of cutest grandmother in the universe.

My sweet 84-year-old grams stands just below my armpit at 4'11. She probably weighs 95 pounds, but is always insisting she is developing "a belly" and refuses to buy clothes (which she ALWAYS pronounces clo) lower than a 14 though she is obviously around a size 4. She gets her salt and pepper hair done every other Friday around 8AM. She loves lawn ornaments and celebrates every holiday to it's fullest potential. She has a stone goose that sits on her porch that she dresses in clothes themed to whatever season or holiday is being celebrated. She also sends cards to all of her grandkids and 21 (ish) great-grandkids for EVERY holiday-Valentines Day, Saint Patricks Day, Easter, etc. Her favorite color is blue which is obvious from her living room, kitchen, and bedroom decor. She drinks a concoction of pure cherry syrup and cranberry juice every morning ever since she heard about antioxidants. She can out power walk my 18-year-old sister. She is a chocolate addict. She will share EVERYTHING she owns, but she keeps a secret stash of the best chocolate in one of her laundry room cabinets around the holidays. She was a BABE (and still is) and married one of the handsomest fellows around. She misses my grandpa every single day and can hardly wait to see him again. While watching"The Mentalist", my grandmother will wax on about how handsome Simon Barker is and then abashedly cast her eyes to the ceiling and apologize to my deceased grandfather. She points her finger at me whenever I visit and says, "Are you still praying to keep me around? I'm ready to go and you can't stop me!" When the doctor tells her during checkups that she is perfectly healthy, she sighs. Everything my grandma does revolves around serving others and living like the Savior. She has an intuition like no other I have ever met and seems to always call when I need it most. She predicted the man I would marry down to the specifics and winked and whispered to me after meeting Sel that "He's the one!" She is absolutely hilarious without even trying too and has more spunk than any hormonal pre-teen I have ever met.

I want to be JUST like my Grandma someday. I know it will likely never happen because she is WAY too much to live up to, but I keep hoping all the same. Here's to becoming a future Wanda!