The Adseros

My deepest apologies go out to you....my readers. The other day, our cable was out, and I had to go to the library to use the internet to send my sister (who's on a mission) an email. I happened to glance at our blog while I was there. Not only was in heinously ugly, but the color scheme messed with my eyes. Jules, I know you tried to warn me, but on both our computers, our blog looked great. Anyway, from now on, I'll try to stick to a more simple color scheme so as to not alienate you all.

This last weekend, Matt and I went out to eat with some friends. I got an eggplant sandwich which had all sorts of yummy spring veggies, some aioli and melted provolone and other kinds of cheese on it. Anyway, I didn't finish my sandwich, so I got a box. I left my sandwich in the car while we went and played some games at our friends' house. Following our delightful game-playing session, Matt and I returned to the car. After a few minutes ride, Matt accused me of "letting one go". I swore on the Holy Bible that I didn't, and that it was probably just the stinky provolone on my sandwich...you know sometimes those cheeses really do kinda reek. Anyway, a few minutes more passed and I decided that the smell was a little too strong and a little too poop-like to have been my sandwich that was stinking up the joint, unless, of course, I had accidentally ordered a poop sandwich for dinner. Just a couple weeks earlier, Matt had tracked some dog poop into the car after having taken Lucy out, so I was paranoid that it had happened again. So, I checked my shoes, which were clear, and then suggested that Matt check his. He refused stating that there's NO WAY he could have done that twice. I said, "OK." and didn't push the issue cause I knew he'd get ticked. We continued to drive in silence, doing all we could to disregard/endure the foul odor. Matt finally stopped to get some gas and as he stepped out of the car, I screamed "YOU DID!!!!". I screamed so loud that Matt thought I had been shot. I was laughing hysterically, and was almost convulsing. Even though he denied it, I knew in my heart of hearts after determining that it wasn't my sandwich, that Matt, for the second time, had accidentally put on his poop-magnet shoes. Even though we had some cleanup to do, I was glad to know that I didn't eat a poop sandwich for dinner.

Don't our tomatoes look lush??? Too bad there are only three of them. Not quite enough to make a salad.

Two or three months ago, our old dryer that my uncle gave us stopped working. It would start up, but then wouldn't let you select the cycle, and if you don't select a cycle, it'll stop rotating after 10 seconds. Anyway, I figured it was something electrical, and beyond what Matt and I could fix, so we've abandoned it these last few months. Instead of forking over the $400 to either get it fixed or buy a new one, we resorted to hauling our laundry to our Beaumont apartment. This method has been working out OK, but we knew this alternative wouldn't last forever. We considered using our Christmas money to buy a new dryer, but decided we'd rather have a dresser. Anyway, since we've only been in Houston on the weekends, that means that typically, there's not more than a basket of laundry to haul. But having been in Houston for over two weeks over the holidays, Matt and I were on our last pair of clean underwear and the thought of hauling the mountains of laundry that had built up over Christmas/New Year's was almost more than either of us could bear.

This last weekend, Matt informed me that he was going to fix the dryer as he had threatened to do many times in the past few months. Every time he'd threaten to "fix it", I'd put up a fight. Sometimes, it seems to me that Matt thinks that because his dad has a degree in electrical engineering, he is somehow an electrician by birth. I don't mind him patching walls, or constructing things that don't require too much structural stability, but wires scare me. I would not want to be the one responsible for burning down the entire apartment complex cause I let me electrician-by-birth husband rewire our dryer. I REALLY did not want to haul all those clothes to Beaumont, so I caved. Matt took out two screws and popped off the top of the dryer. Lo and behold, a dusty, unread owner's manual was hidden back there, and inside there was a "Common Problems" section. After a few minutes of reading, Matt concluded that a little part had jiggled loose. He shoved it back in, popped the top back on and ta da!!....FIXED!!!! He made all my Christmas wishes come true! No more hauling laundry!! If I had had the faith to take the first step in fixing the dryer, even I, a "non-electrician-by-birth"...or gentile, if you will, could have done that. I felt like Laman and Lemuel who mocked Nephi for trying to build a boat. Despite their bad attitudes, he was successful, and they sailed all the way to America on a boat built by someone who has never built a boat before. Over the last year and four months of marriage, I've learned to trust a little more in Matt's skills as an electrician, and he's learned to trust more in my map reading and sense of direction. We've got a lot of years ahead of us, which is good, cause I still have a lot to learn. Thanks for fixing the dryer, Matt! Love you!