Isn't it About Time?

Well, now that I've typed the title I can only conjur up images of "Mormon Ads" on PBS.  So... let me take a moment to regroup.

Oh look, I'm back!

The reason the title is as it is - is because I feel it's high time for another "little letters" post.  I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, but the little letters blogging format has an incredible ability to cover a huge quantity of random in a somewhat organized fashion... right?  Such an impressive tool.

So here goes...

Dear Kimberly at Wells Fargo....  Holy crap, girl, where to start with you?  Never ever in my life have I been greeted by someone at a drive up window who is so incredibly happy and chipper to be working on a random Wednesday morning.  You were one impressive bank teller.  The way you introduced yourself and asked what you could do for me?  You have a bright future Miss K.  You made my brief interaction delightful and borderline hysterical.  And my little rug rats thank you for digging through the Dum Dum bucket to produce two "bwu ones" and a "red one".  Wow.

Dear Pioneer Ancestors....  Hats off y'all.  This weekend our AC went out for unknown reasons and let me tell you something...  Me LOVES me some AC.  I was hot, ornery, lazy, hot and ornery.  And that is about all I could muster up.  It became incredibly obvious to me in that very long day and a half that I am not cut out for a life without modern amenities.  So when Armageddon comes - just know that I'll be hanging up my hat and surrendering because I simply am not cut out for a life without a working thermostat.

Dear Kael....  What, pray tell, is with you and your little "murse"?  I am equal parts entertained and grossed out by what you collect in your little man bag all day.  Tonight I found, blocks, a toy car, nasty old fruit snacks, a half-eaten box of raisins, and fist fulls of grass.  (Not weed everyone - calm down - actual grass.  As in lawn).  I know it is just a silly little phase, but I don't know how much longer you and your little Delta airlines toiletries bag can be besties.  Although - it is wickedly hilarious.

Dear Dad... You are cracking me up with your fervor and complete immersion into the Republican party convention.  I adore getting your texts before, during and after each speaker.  Your increased use of exclamation points and adjectives like, "Powerful" and "Impressive" just make me grin.  No one - and I mean NO ONE has ever accused you of not being a passionate person Papa Bear.  You and Chris Christy sittin' in a tree.... :)

Dear Ryan... Soak this next line or two in, brotha, because I am about to say something to you that you will revel in hearing... ready?  You were right about whole milk.  (Crap)  After ten years of telling you that skim and one percent taste just as delish as two percent or whole, I would officially like to strike those comments from the record.  Whole milk is kind of freaking delicious and when you drink it like the littles do, with loads of Hershey's chocolate syrup?  Fetch.  I'll say it again, but then this better sustain you for another ten years, "You were right.  I was wrong."

Dear Dax... As you like to say, "Hey Homey".  So, I get that you are a tough little gangsta with a mowhawk, but lets just juxtapose that with your affinity for sweet pastries.  My little Pillsbury Dough Boy, you make me laugh when you hear your baby brother squack and you respond to him by saying, "Baby, I don't have any donuts wight now."  Or when he cries and you lean forward and grab his face and say, "Baby, you wanna cookie?"  As if every pained expression from everyone in the world could be sated with a sweet treat.  Actually - you may be on to something little smartie pants.

Dear Shades of Grey...  Yep, I just came clean about this dirty little bit.  I love you.  Nothin' like a little imaginative mood setter on the pages of a book.  I highly recommend your stories to all the women in the world.  As RyGar said, "That's my favorite book and I haven't read a single page."  Yep, it's that good y'all.  And if my Relief Society President would like to question me about it, I'll gladly loan her my copy!  :)

Dear Ace... I love the way you love you.  Let's face it, you are one vain little son-of-a-gun... and I adore it.  The way you lecture, kiss, admire (from all angles), wave, spit at, dance with and talk to your own little reflection is one of my very favorite things in the history of all time.  We can't decide what to get you for your upcoming birthday... but we're leaning toward a full-length mirror.  :)

Dear Fall... I am officially ready.  My favorite outside chore of mowing the lawn, is getting a little tiresome.  I'm ready for a change... like chopping down perennials and raking leaves.  I may or may not be ready for peaches and pears as opposed to melons and berries too.  And if you told me to trade in my sandals for my boots?  I might just grin like a school girl.  Tweed, here I come.

Dear Labor Day Weekend... I love that you are our last summer hurrah.  I love that my Dad insists that Labor Day is the official day for a steak fry and a family four-wheeler ride.  I love that my little crew will wear overalls and jeans instead of shorts.  I love that the cousins will all get grubby and sticky and silly together.  I love that RyGar will get accosted to go fishing and riding eighty times a day from his little mini mes.  I love that maybe, just maybe, we'll talk to my siblings late at night after we tuck in kiddies and actually have some adult conversation.  I could go on... but in summary, what's not to love about a long weekend where Sunday evening blues or "a little case of the Mondays" just doesn't even happen?  Nada.  That's what.

Happy Hurrah-ing to everyone. :)