Welcome to Richmond!

*My little cousin Michael Jeppesen (okay, he's not so little anymore since he surpassed the 6-foot mark long ago) was called to serve in the Richmond, Virginia mission. Michael and his twin brother Kirk (who was called to Ghana, Africa) are more than just cousins to me (whether they like it or not). Since I never had younger brothers of my own, these two more or less filled those shoes. Despite the age difference, I can't think of anyone we had more fun with growing up (was it because we were so immature that we just related better? I don't know!). Since they're from the Rexburg, Idaho area, I was always envious that my sisters, who both went to Ricks College, got to hang out with them so often. Michael leaves for the MTC tomorrow and I hope he knows that although I probably won't be able to see him very often (unless he gets put in my ward), that he'll have someone nearby who is praying for him!

(Downtown Richmond)

Dear Michael (I mean Elder Jeppesen),

I honestly thought you were lying when you called to tell me you were called to serve in the Richmond, Virginia Mission. What are the chances? I'm sure you've had time to research all about it, but I wanted to share some of my favorite parts of the "mission" with you:

See this -- yeah, that's a cotton plant. Yes, cotton! There are cotton plantations in Virginia. Welcome to the south! By the way, you should probably know that you should never refer to Virginia as the STATE of Virginia. You'll get shot. Here it's the COMMONWEALTH of Virginia. Weird? Yeah, I know.

Although Kirk may be going to a place that some people refer to as the foundations of civilization, you will be going to where the foundation of America began. This is Jamestown, Virginia -- the first permanent English settlement in America.

Maybe on your p-day you and your companion can dress up like this and take pictures to send back to your family. Your mom will probably hang them on the fridge and brag about you:

What we have next is one of my favorites: Monticello, the home of Thomas Jefferson located in Charlottesville, Virginia. If you are lucky, maybe they'll send you here during the fall . . .

When it looks like this . . . (you don't see this back west!)

Lastly, this is Williamsburg. Another one of my favorite places to visit. And yes, people really do dress up like this and perform regularly . . .

If I had more time, I could make this post really, really long because there are so many things about Virginia that I love. Lucky for you, this is where it ends. You'll get to experience it all for yourself soon enough! I love you, Michael! Hopefully we'll run into each other somewhere in the Commonwealth soon.

Love,

Brittany

Happy Father's Day!

I don't know what I'd do without this man. He's always had a special place in my heart and I cherish every moment I get with him--especially now that we live thousands of miles apart. I think it took me awhile to find the right guy to marry because no one came close to comparing to my dad.

Thanks, Dad, for always being there for me. Thanks for flying out to the East Coast to see us at least 3 (sometimes more) times a year. Thanks for holding us to high standards and teaching us to be our best. Thanks for always keeping the Gospel strong in our home and for being a good example. Thanks for having a great sense of humor and for always making me laugh. Thanks for always knowing the right thing to say and do. And most importantly, thanks for being my dad! I sure do love you!

Lastly, Brian wouldn't be the man he is without the great example of his father. I had an easy time transitioning into the Richman family partly because Brian's dad was so wonderful and made me feel so welcome.

Happy Father's Day!!!

One Big Happy Family

My mom just sent me these pictures -- three decades of the Candrian family. They were too good not to share.

1988: Times were so simple back then and I didn't even realize it. I was 7-years-old and my biggest worries were probably whether to flip my bangs out or curl them under . . . Rob probably had no idea that someday he would lose that thick red hair. The things no one tells you when you're that young . . .

1998: 17-years-old and probably 15 lbs lighter (okay, with my recent weight gain it may be more like 25 lbs lighter). Rob left on his mission the next month and when he came back two years later, Amy didn't look like the Amy he used to know . . . Also hopefully we were out of our puka shell necklace stage by the time he got back (probably not though -- I think I hung on to those shell necklaces for years).

2008: Still one big happy family . . . with two new additions (and two more currently on the way).

How Does Your Garden Grow?

In the past, my attempts at gardening have not gone so well. Last summer I planted three tomato plants. Each plant grew exactly one tomato! That's right, ONE! Brian hates tomatoes with a passion, so I am sure he was secretly praying for this outcome. I knew one tomato per plant wasn't normal, but I became extra discouraged when Brian went home to Idaho and proudly reported that his mom's tomato plants had at least 20 tomatoes each growing on them! I blame it on the lack of sun in our yard. Well, I am happy to report that there is at least one thing I can grow: today I picked our first green beans of the year! I planted the green bean seeds just a few weeks ago and they have already grown at least a foot tall. I have to admit that it's quite satisfying to watch something grow from nothing! I guess that's what my mom was trying to teach us all those years when she tried to force us to help her with gardening. I guess moms do know a thing or two.

I ate this one for dinner -- it was pretty good!

Other parts of our yard seem to be blooming all over the place, but with plants that I didn't actually plant myself. Last year some amazing purple flowers grew up the light post in our front yard. They showed up again this year. I should have taken a picture last week when there were three times as many flowers -- I thought about it every time I walked out the door -- oh-well!

All sorts of surprises are popping up. We're not really sure what this little guy growing by our front door is yet. All we know is that we didn't plant it and it wasn't there last year:

My Five Senses and Random Memories

It's amazing how certain sights, sounds, smells, tastes, etc. can take us back to a place in time we may have completely forgotten about.

I've always been an extremely nastalgic person. My memories of loved ones and times past are something I hold close to my heart. Sometimes really obscure occurrences trigger old memories and can make me rather emotional (especially lately--but it's not my fault!).

A couple weeks ago, when I was in Palm Springs with Brian's family, we went on a walk through our hotel's golf course Sunday evening after we'd eaten dinner. It was a beautiful night. The course was definitely a higher-end golf course, extremely green (even though we were in the middle of the desert), with beautiful flowers blooming all over the place. We were about half way across the course when a light breeze rolled through and I smelled something that made me stop in my tracks. It was a fragrant, sweet smell and one that I knew instantly I had smelled before. It took me a second to figure out how I knew the smell. There were delicate white flowers growing up the side of one of the fences (I later found out it was a jasmine flower) and I stepped forward to smell them. Sure enough, that's where the smell was coming from. All of a sudden it hit me. I knew exactly where I'd smelled it before. At first I doubted myself because I didn't think there was any way my memory was that good, but years ago, when my Dad's mom lived in the Bay Area California, her backyard was full of all sorts of plants and vines. Jasmine was one of them. She moved from California when I was 10 and passed away almost 4 years ago (has it really been that long!?!). I sure did love that lady. I missed her all the more (and this is where my emotions really kicked in) when I realized that it was Mother's Day that day. I had to fight hard to hold back tears so Brian's family wouldn't think I was a total moron. As soon as I got home from the trip, I went out and bought jasmine-scented lotion (amazingly easy to find), just so I could hold onto the scent. Some day when I have a house that the sun actually reaches (the trees in our yard are so tall that we get virtually no sun), I am going to plant jasmine and tell my kids stories about my Grandma.

A few months ago I was eating some chicken stir-fry and all of a sudden a certain spice or seasoning triggered another random memory in my brain. It took me a minute to realize what I was tasting, but I slowly started remembering the summer of the year I was 11. My parents must have had their last straw with a house full of pre-teens (and one 6-year-old who already thought she was a teenager) and sent us to stay with our grandparents in Oregon for the summer. I remember eating two very specific things that summer. The first one being one of those no-bake Jello-0 cheesecakes. One of my cousins (Joy or Julie) ran through their farm house to deliver it to us and it slipped out of their hands and fell upside down onto the floor. For some reason the loss of that cheesecake really devestated me -- we even ran to get spoons so we could eat the salvagable part off the floor. I laugh about it now, but back then, I don't ever remember my mom buying things like that, so we must have thought it was a special treat (man, were we deprived or what?). It goes to show that some things never change with me and food. It's one of the only things I still get really passionate about. The second food item I remember from that summer is my Grandma Thatcher making us chicken stir-fry with Yoshida's sauce. How in the world I remembered something like Yoshida's, I will never know. All I know is that for the past few weeks I have begged my mom to buy some in Utah and bring it back to Virginia for me (I can't find anywhere here that sells it!). Tonight I tried it and sure enough it was the exact taste I remembered. For a brief moment I closed my eyes and I found myself sitting at my Grandma's kitchen table eating the same chicken. She died when I was 12. I didn't get another summer with her, so unfortunately, I'll have to take whatever memory of her I can get, even if it is of Yoshida's sauce.

I sure do miss my grandmas.

On a ligher note, to this day, the sound of a distant train whistle still reminds both Andrea and I of an incredibly creepy Stephen King movie we made the mistake of watching when we were younger. We talked about it this past weekend when we were driving across a train track in D.C. We had to have been no older than 12. Mom, why in the world did you let us watch this movie? Didn't you know it would be permanently scarring? Adults shouldn't even be allowed to watch something like that. It was evil, I swear. All you need to know is that there was a train involved. I think it was one of those movies that was ultimately so disturbing that it sucked us in and we didn't even realize we had the choice to walk away from it. I met Stephen King the summer I interned for C-SPAN's Book TV (Yes, I interned for Book TV. Yes, I am a nerd.) and I wanted to go up to him and ask if he knew what he was doing to little children!

I don't know why I chose to post about this, but I could go on and on . . . Do these types of things happen to anyone else? Do certain sounds, tastes, and smells do these things to you? I mean, I know I've got quirks, but I can't be the only one!

The Candrians go to Washington!

Where to begin . . . I feel like I've been all over the place the last few days. My parents flew into D.C. last week and I drove up after work to meet up with the fam at the Washington Nationals game. Good thing my mom called me on the way up to tell me it was raining and to bring a jacket. "Raining" was an understatement! I haven't seen that much rain in a long time.

Right before they called the game due to the rain, Andrea and I made our way down to the center field overhang and yelled to one of the outfielders to throw us a ball. A bunch of guys to the left of us had been doing the same thing and couldn't seem to catch anything. Maybe it was because we are girls but the player gave up on trying to get a ball to the group of guys and threw one to us instead. Who knew that Andrea could catch (no offense, Andrea)?

After the game, with Lincoln and George . . .

The next day was one of the highlights of the trip. Whenever my mom and dad visit D.C. I always try and plan something for them to do that they've never done before (which is getting harder and harder since they've been here so many times). My dad has always wanted to stand on the balcony at the top of the U.S. Capitol dome and he finally got his chance. Good thing it stopped raining long enough to enjoy it!

This is where we ended up . . .

The tour starts out going up a steep set of about 300 metal stairs that wind their way up between the inner and outer domes. . .

About half way up the top, we found ourselves on a balcony located directly beneath the painting the Apotheosis of Washington. This is what the top of the dome looks like from the floor of the Rotunda.

This is what it looks like from half way up the dome.

(oops, I forgot to turn this picture around -- oh-well!)

My mom, the aspiring artist that she is, was in heaven . . .

There were a few fun stops along the way, including this one . . .

One of the octagon cut outs in the dome opened up so we could peer down at the crowds below. I don't think anyone saw us, but I don't know what I would have thought if I looked up and saw someone sticking their head out of the side of the dome.

Here's the view from the top:

It's still funny to me that Andrea and I both ended up working for Congress -- she on the Senate side and me on the House side (this picture was taken on the House side).

Once we got back down into the Capitol, it was after public viewing hours so we found ourselves completely alone. Rob thought he'd have a little fun and slide down one of the balconies since there was no one around to stop him:

(Again, oops, I'm new at this blogging thing -- next time I'll remember to turn the pictures around before I add them to the blog.)


Thanks for visiting Mom and Dad -- come back anytime!

1600 Pennsylvania Ave

I'm probably the only one who finds this interesting, but this is my blog so I get to post what I want . . . NBC's Brian Williams is doing an exclusive "behind the scenes" look at the Obama White House tonight, so ahead of the interview NBC has created an "interactive" White House on its website. Check it out:

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/30932789/

You can click on any room to see a 3-D view of how it currenty looks. I find it odd that the Bush Administration is continually bashed by the current President and yet he chose to keep the Oval Office decor exactly the same as President Bush had it (apparently he loves the way it looks). Traditionally, an incoming President chooses to have it completely redecorated, if for no other reason than as a symbol of the change of power. You'd think with everything else he's changing he'd want that changed, too.

I know Brian doesn't miss this place -- while we were dating I dragged him on more West Wing tours than anyone should have to endure -- but I have to admit that even two years later, looking at pictures of that place makes me feel a little homesick.

I got to go back a couple of months ago (when I volunteered at the White House Egg Roll) and it made me realize that half of what I loved about the White House environment was the people there. Take those people out of the equation and it's not the same. Needless to say, as I walked out of the White House gate that evening surrounded by new staff with a new political agenda, I took one glance behind me and told myself I'd be back . . . but not for at least 4 more years.