May list

I think I need to explain something. I know my blog is getting listy, and I know it's kind of boring to read lists all the time. But, I have a good defense. A while back, I was going through some old blog posts, and I read a list I'd made of our Christmas. It wasn't an awesome post (being a list!) but it included some details that I'd forgotten, and was so grateful that I'd written down. So now my goal is to do a monthly list of different things I want to remember. I know it's boring. I'm just recording stuff for my own (selfish) purposes. I really won't be offended if you skip right past them.


That being said, on with the list! And since I like the 10 lists format, I'll give you my 10 lists for May. (Is that a chorus of snores I hear? Sorry, friends!)

10 things I did:

1. Had pizza and fun with some cool friends and bloggers. What a fun night!
2. Built garden boxes so that I can have zucchini and spaghetti squash and tomatoes in the fall. Yum!
3. Celebrated Mother's Day by cleaning up my mom's yard. It's amazing what 4 sisters, 2 husbands, lots of nieces and nephews and my own two kids can do in 2 hours. Whew!
4. Welcomed home my neighbor's husband who served for 7 months in Iraq. When he left their baby was 3 weeks old, now he's almost 8 months old! I'm glad he came home in one piece.
5. Spent a day walking around the nearly-empty Oquirrh Mountain Temple while volunteering to be an usher. It is such a pretty, pretty temple. I seriously sat for more than an hour at one time, waiting for people to come through. It was such a cool day.
6. Watched my kids learn how to ice skate. We got an annual pass to the speed skating oval, so it looks like we will be doing a lot of ice skating.
7. Drooled over, I mean watched, the season finale of Lost. Holy cow, I really do love that Sawyer. Are there many characters in the history of TV who are close to as hot? I think not.
8. Celebrated Memorial Day by buying lots of bottles of soap from Bath & Body works. I love their sales. I seem to only ever shop there when things are on sale. Even the boys like the new yummy smelling foamy soap.
9. Failed to read even one book. I don't know what is wrong with me; it seems I am having a bad reading summer so far. It better improve or I'll go crazy.
10. Got to 1st Kings in the Old Testament. I'm still going through Psalms while I learn about Elijah. I never knew how ignorant I was about the Bible. Holy cow, there is a lot in there.

9 People I was grateful for:

1. Shane's Grandma Mary, who died yesterday, the day after her 81st birthday. I want to do a blog post just for her in the next few days. But I have to say how much I loved her and how I will miss her.
2. My dad. I saw him for the first time in 2 months last week. He is slowly becoming a silent, shuffling old man. It breaks my heart. But Amy and I took him on a walk to the park during our visit with him. It feels somehow more normal to see him out of the context of the care center he lives in. I hope he felt a little more normal. I will remember holding his arm, walking to the park for a long, long time.
3. My friend and fellow blogger Isabel. I went to high school with Isabel, but we didn't really hang out or talk much. It seems such a waste that we waited 15 years after high school to become friends.
4. The lady who was in charge the day I volunteered at the temple open house. I had hoped and prayed to be stuck in the corner of the temple somewhere. Somehow they assigned me to what I think was the prettiest floor, the top floor where they perform marriage ceremonies (called sealings). It was so amazing to me to get to volunteer like that.
5. Melanie, who has taught Ben in her Music Makers class each Thursday for the past two years. Ben looked forward to Music so much, and so did I. I know how much time she put into making it fun and educational for the kids. Thanks for teaching us, Mel. You are the best.
6. My mother-in-law, who took such good care of her parents during this hard time. She spent most of the month of May 300 miles from her home so that she could be there when her mom drifted out of this world. I am so grateful for her sacrifice.
7. My mom, who came to Ben's preschool graduation a few weeks ago. She came with us to lunch afterwards at the McDonald's (Ben's choice) and I had so much fun talking with her while the kids played and Shane visited with his mom.
8. Paper Pocket Edward, who was so inspiring during the blogger dinner I attended. Little Edward didn't have much on, but man, he sure made the night. I love you Edward! I'm sorry we didn't cut your clothes out, but you are too hot to cover up.
9. Juliet from Lost. Now that she's detonated the nuclear bomb, does that mean Sawyer is up for grabs? Oh, let me grab...

8 places I went:

1. The Pie
2. The Spaghetti Factory
3. Work
4. Maurice's (I got the cutest jeans from there! Nothing better than cute AND cheap jeans, right?
5. IHOP for Mother's Day breakfast
6. My mom's house
7. Amy's house
8. The Olympic Speed Skating Oval

7 websites I love (or began to love) in May:

1. The library
2. Barnes and Noble
3. Get Away Today (planning a VACATION to San Diego) (no one panic; the world isn't coming to an end)
4. Word Twist on Facebook (despite the fact that I frequently get all of 12 points during a game.)
5. The BYU scripture discussion page (I am a geek, I know. But I can't listen to chapter after chapter of the Old Testament and not have someone to explain just who Jeroboam and Rehoboam were and why I should care).
6. Hotmail. Bored? Email me at beckykump [at] live dot com.
7. C-jane. I have total blog envy over her. I keep wondering if we know some of the same people, but I doubt I would admit to knowing said people. They would have been the kids in detention at her high school, probably.

6 new songs on my iPod:

1. Sometime after midnight, Airborne Toxic Event. Oh, the angstyness of that song just makes me want to wrap up in it and live for a while.
2. Give a little bit, by the Goo Goo Dolls.
3. Joy Ride, the Killers
4. Dustland Fairytale, Killers
5. Heart and Soul (thanks Amy!)
6. Spaceman, Killers (Are you seeing a trend?)

5 Reasons to be happy:

1. My yard. Man, all the weeding I've done lately has paid off. My iris in the backyard are gorgeous; the front yard, not so much, but I think next year they will be. The bleeding heart I planted last year came back and is so pretty.
2. Summer is almost here!
3. Ben is doing summer camp with his preschool. Let's all say "HOORAY!" for 4 more Thursdays of having time to myself!
4. My garden is coming along so wonderfully. I have 3 different kinds of squash that I planted from seed coming up, and I haven't killed my tomatoes yet.
5. We got a new laptop. It's amazing having one that has a functioning battery. No more blogging while standing next to the kitchen counter!

4 Things I watched last month:

1. Taken. Terrible beginning and ending, awesome middle. Liam is pretty hot.
2. Lost. We are watching Season 2.
3. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. I liked it, Shane didn't.
4. Arrested Development. I really missed out on that series. It is hilarious!

3 things I'm thinking right now:

1. I'm hungry.
2. I wonder what the boys are up to?
3. I wonder who is on Facebook....

2 Books I'm excited to be released:

1. The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane. Salem witch trials, anyone?
2. The Lost Symbol. I love Dan Brown's books.

1 Cool thing about this coming June:

1. On the 24th, I will have been at my job for 10 years. I never knew I'd stay so long. I'll be getting some new silverware as a reward. Shane is pretty excited about the silverware, I must say. He must ask me where it is 10 times a week. 10 years = more silverware to clean. Fun times for everyone.

It's the place I always imagine in my head when a book's setting is an apartment. The tiny one-bedroom apartment has housed so many dear characters, probably because of the dear people who originally inhabited #49.

I went to visit my Dad today. Amy and I ended up making a morning of it, dropping off some of our gorgeous purple iris at our grandparent's grave. I was so excited earlier this spring when I saw how many iris I was going to have. I knew exactly what I wanted to do with them. Because my grandma loved purple, and loved iris, and there were some ready-made, seemingly aching to be transported to the small cemetary plot by the mountains.

Our route to see Dad took us by the street that Grandma and Grandpa lived on. I found myself passing it, but thought better of it and turned on the next street and headed toward that small apartment that has so often come to me while reading.

They say the places you visit from your childhood always seem smaller. It was. I almost missed the driveway to the apartments. I took a brief look at the gutter where I spent so many hours as a girl building dams to trap the spring run-off that came down the street. And suddenly I was looking at the door of #49. Painted a hopeful red to match the roof, it looked both so familiar and so anonymous. Amy and I sat and talked about the flowers that Grandpa had planted during his time as the manager of the apartments. A beautiful orange rose was sitting by the entrance to the stairway. Could it be one that our dear Grandpa planted, his gnarled fingers gently pressing the soil into place? Where were the sweet william and iris that had been planted by Grandma? Were any of their decendants still multiplying somewhere on the property?

I could almost smell them: Grandma's cold cream and lotion trailing up the stairs, Grandpa's haze of smoke and aftershave wafting through the parking lot. I missed them so much at that moment, wishing that I could hug them just once more, tell them that I love them and miss them. They've been gone long enough that their memories are mostly a vague idea of love and cigarette smoke and already-been-chewed gum stuck furtively under a table. But that love is still so real.

I don't know what made me turn onto that street today. But it seemed fitting to visit the place where they were alive to me so soon after honoring their memory at their final resting place. But if I could, if I really had wanted to honor them, me and Amy's iris, roses, columbine, and late yellow tulips would have been placed at the door of #49. That is the place that houses my memories. That is the place where I loved them, and they loved me, their last grandchild, the fifth of all those girls. The place I so often revisit in my mind without any effort. #49.

I miss you Grandma. I miss you Grandpa. Wait for me.

The friend I made, and lost

Last night was my night to run. I left a little upset (long story) and so I was not in the best, most charitable mood. As I turned a corner a few blocks from my house, a medium-sized mutt came hurtling after me. Now, if you were my sister Amy, you'd be surprised that I didn't run into a stranger's house crying, but in reality I just stopped running and prepared for whatever the dog was up to.

Luckily the dog was friendly. It swerved in front of me and took off a few paces ahead. I started running again and figured he would keep running off somewhere far from me. However, the dog continued to pace me as I made my jaunt down the road, always staying in front of me. I kept hoping he would turn down one of the many sidestreets, but he didn't.

So I discovered I'd picked up a friend for my Tuesday run. Part of my run leads me onto a dirt trail which joins a busy street. I hoped that my doggy friend would take off on the dirt path; he didn't. When I joined the busy road, he kept running with me. I don't think he was used to running because he kept darting in and out of the road, running in front of cars and crossing in front of me.

I yelled at him a few times to go home, but it didn't do any good. He paced me pretty well for a while, and then he slowed down. I felt bad for him, because even though I'm not a fast runner, the girth around his middle told me he wasn't used to running long distances. Before long he was trailing behind me, only catching up when I would slow down a little between sprints.

I was so mad. One, I was mad at how he was making me look like the most unresponsible pet owner ever. Despite the fact that he wasn't mine, he was running with me, and usually dogs that are running with people belong to those people. I HATED how he would run out in the street, and how it looked like I was allowing my portly dog to run sans collar or leash on a busy road with nary a glance backward. All those cars passing me seemed to be a reproach for myapparent carelessness. It made me feel like such a jerk.

Two, I was mad at the dog himself. I was torn between annoyance at him joining me and worry that he wouldn't keep up. I could see he was tiring, and there wasn't any shade or water to help him feel better. Plus the road many places where glass had been broken, and I kept worrying about the pads of his feet getting splinters. I kept wondering what I was going to do with him when I got home. Why had he picked ME to run with?

About a mile and a half from my house, he finally had enough, I suppose. He took off down a side street before I could catch him, heading off in search of water or his home, I'll never know which. I ran as fast as I could to the next corner so that he wouldn't try to find me.

Once he had gone, I realized I might miss him a little. If he had been my dog, I would have enjoyed the evening run with him. Even as mad as I was while he was with me, it was fun watching his joyfull leaps into the brush that line the road. How he couldn't resist stopping to smell something or check out a rustle in the field, but would cut it short to race to keep up with me.

Maybe he was a little like me last night, in a bad mood and needing some way to work out the frustrations in his head. Maybe we needed each other just at that moment in time. I just hope that he made it home safely. And that his owner will take him running.

The time I rented a tv for the people down the hall.

Back when I lived with Cindy, I was about as innocent as they come. Even though I broke the word of wisdom in more ways than one before I sat down in my first class for the day, I still didn't really know the ways of the world. Which is why I thought it a great idea to rent a TV for the grown men who lived down the hall.

I guess I should back up.

The apartment I lived in had a hot tub and pool that was open year-round. Cindy came home from a tour of Italy and promptly moved into my apartment. One night while I was away visiting my parents, she met some construction workers from South Carolina. Being Cindy, she got friendly with them (not THAT kind of friendly, just bum-a-smoke-off-the-old-guys kind of friendly). She discovered that they were here in Utah to remodel the local Marriott Hotel.

In her Cindy-way, she discovered that the men needed some young hands to do a few odd jobs around the hotel. Stuff like vacuuming and scraping leftover wall paper plaster off of freshly wall papered walls. Stuff that 4 old guys named Terry, Jerry, Brian and Glenn would be happy to pay some young girl to do for them. You know, out of the kindness of their hearts, I'm sure.

I soon found myself driving Cindy to these odd jobs at the Marriott. She came home with cash, and since I hated my current telemarketing job, I decided to make friends with TJB & G and see if some cash could come my way. After all, what DON'T 18 year-old girls have in common with 30 and 40 something construction workers? (Remember I said I was innocent?).

Before long, our pursuit of cash led us to clean the disgustingly dirty apartment that housed dear TJB & G. For $50 we dumped out days-old cups filled with cigarette butts, cleaned bathrooms, did dishes, and made the apartment down the hall somewhat habitable. We even found ourselves cleaning for other friends of TJB & G. Hey, $50 in the early 90's for an hour of work (however disgusting) seemed like a good deal.

So, we thought we were in with these guys. After all, we'd been in their "space." They'd aired their dirty laundry right in front of us, hadn't they? We'd dumped their beer bottles and spit cups. So when the request that one of us rent a TV for them from the local rent-a-center came along and I was the only one with good credit between Cindy and I, I signed along the dotted line. The "boys" agreed to give us the $15 per week it would cost for the borrowed TV and we would pay the rent-a-center. Easy, cheesy. It seemed a little strange to me that the grown men who could have an apartment and buy beer and pay young girls in cash couldn't get a TV, but whatever. They were good for it, right?

(You know where this is going, right?)

Fast forward a few months. TJB & G are leaving town, and leave us keys to their apartment. The plan was that they would leave the TV and other random furniture in the apartment for us. We could pick up the TV and have our pick of the couches, chairs and whatnot that were left over.

Cindy and I walked down to collect our goods. The key opened the door, and there stood the apartment just as we had seen countless times before. Random furniture, left over empty bottles, mattress on the floor, empty table...wait, empty table? Wasn't that? Um, didn't the table formerly house the TV that was rented in my name?

What happened to the TV? asks my stupid 18 year-old brain and my equally stupid 19 year-old friend. Sure it was a mistake, we rush over TJB & G's boss's apartment across the complex. He claims no knowledge of a TV. We wander back to TJB & G's place and search the closets, the cupboards, anywhere that might house the TV.

You know where it was. On its way maiden voyage to South Carolina with our good buddies.

I called the rent-a-center. They were very kind and polite and a little confused at why I had allowed the TV that was rented in my name to be used by someone else. I had to work out a deal with them to pay them each week for the TV until it was completely paid off (I think it was around $150; lucky me it wasn't more.)

So, my dear friends, somewhere out there I own a TV. It is old. It has lived with other people for many, many years. But it is mine. I paid for it. And learned a valuable lesson.

Next time your friend wants you to rent someone else a TV, let her risk her credit, not yours. Cause TGB & G will always find some sweet young thing to clean up their crap, and will always make off with the TV.

B*stards.

What stupid things did you do as a college student? Tell me I wasn't the only dumb one out there.

Random thoughts

Because I'm too distracted to write actual paragraphs that relate to one another:

• Water tastes a lot better these days than it did when my primary source of hydration was high fructose corn syrupy prune juice.
• But I still kinda miss the above prune juice.
• How is it possible that the wind can blow in ALL directions during my run? Seriously.
• Today is one of the last 3 days I have of two hours kid-free. Maybe I should consider the summer pre-school program...
• I rocked my run today in my running skirt.
• My iPod isn't impressing me since I had to re-register with iTunes. Why did I have to re-import all my songs that I had copied from cd's? Any iPod/iTunes experts out there?
• I'm considering running this with my husband and sister. I haven't raced since 2006 (not that any race I do could really be considered a race, just a jaunt really). I guess I better get training. But I think: can it be too hard to run when people are cross-country skiing it all the time? Am I going to eat those words in 2.5 months?
• My ankles hurt from ice-skating on Monday. But I will say that watching your 7 and 4 year old learn how to skate rocks.
• I am glad it is Thursday. It is my favorite day of the week.

What random thoughts do you have? Come on and be random with me.

The lost blog post.

Long ago, I found out about blogs because of my sister Amy's blog. I really wanted a blog, but I didn't really think that I "got" it, and so I started one and then promplty forgot.

Last week Shane (who knows all things google, believe me) told me about google blog search.

And today, I found this. When another girl named Becky Kump showed up on my google blog search, and liked so many of the things I liked, well, my first thought was someone had impersonated me, a la c-jane. But no. It was just me.

It's really cheesy. But aren't all initial blog posts cheesy? "Here is this thing, no one will read it, but...I'm going to try anyway." And before long, everyone knows about the burnt dinner from last night and the haircut you gave your kids.

I'm glad no one is impersonating me out there. Wouldn't that be a blow to the self-esteem?

Why I cried in my kitchen tonight.

The world as it looked at approximately 7:45 tonight:



The world as it looked at approximately 8:30 tonight:



I cried the entire time I shaved Ben's head. I'm convinced he will never be this blond again, and so I hated to cut it. But Thomas wanted his done, and heaven forbid Thomas do something that Ben doesn't.


Their new hair is cute, but I loved their floppy long hair. Neither one of them has ever had a different haircut. And now they have no hair. But they are happy, so that is all that matters, right?


Right?


(But it still makes me a little teary.)