Monday, December 24, 2007

Christmas Eve at the Gardners

My last blog entry had mixed reviews. I thought it time to maybe put up something a little more classy. But since I don't have anything classy to share at the moment this will have to suffice. Perhaps one day it will be classic. Hope you enjoy. Ned's on the left...I'm on the right. Please don't judge us. We're just amateurs trying to have a little fun. For the record, I had moments of stage fright during the performance, but somehow overcame. Merry Christmas!

Thursday, December 13, 2007


If you've been tagged you're supposed to write 6 things most people don't know about you. I was tagged a while back, but haven't followed up on it because it seems to me that if you read my blog, you know me pretty well, and if there's something you don't know, it's probably because I don't want you to know. So why would I put something in public domain that I don't want others to know? Oh well, here's my best shot at putting down something you probably DIDN'T want to know about me. Yeah it's a little twisted, but kind of fun....and that's how I'd describe myself to someone...a little twisted, but fun. Pardon my manner of spewing words onto my blog...

1. I once vomited on my brother Mark's head. I'd like to claim that I couldn't help it and that it was an accident, but honestly, I think I timed it perfectly. Does that make me a bad brother? Probably.

2. I can be a bit dramatic when I'm sick and tossing my cookies. For example, after driving through Baltimore and going up to Pennsylvania to help Ned move to New York I became very ill. I'm pretty sure it was the McDonald's hamburger I ate earlier in the day. (This is karma at its best. Anyone who eats at McD's deserves to be ill). In any case, my friend Hyrum, sister Emily, and brother Ned had to put up with my retching and awful....and I mean awful groaning in Ned's small apartment until the wee hours of the morning. I think they still have scars from that night.

3. In my younger years I suffered from some sort of acid reflux syndrome. It doesn't usually rear its ugly head these days, but when I was younger I could basically throw up at will (thus, the probability that #1 was not an accident). Not a very cool talent if you ask me, but hey, we're not supposed to hide our talents now are we? Hyrum was one of my best friends until 3rd grade. At that point our school was split and I didn't see him for about the next 6 years. One of the first things he says to me when our friendship strikes back up in 9th grade is...."Matt, the one thing I remember about you was that you had really bad breath." I like to tell him that it was a different Matt....and there were plenty of Matt's to pass the blame on to, but in all likelihood his memory was probably dead on.

4. Years ago, in a BYU class, I volunteered to be part of what seemed to be a harmless competition. Me against another student eating a few hot peppers. There were 3 different peppers, increasing in hotness (kind of like me each year that I age). The last hot pepper was a HABANERO. I highly recommend you don't eat these whole. It's not good for you. I won't mention that I cried in class after the competition...that would be embarrassing. What I will say is that I ran home, holding the peppers down as long as possible, and then blew chunks of half- chewed peppers out my nose and mouth. I think having a chunk of habanero stuck in my nose is probably one of my most painful memories. I would like to thank my teacher at BYU for giving me the opportunity to participate in a pointless, masochistic competition that nearly killed me. It is probably the only class at BYU that I will never forget.

5. We had 2 cats growing up - Bouncer and Rascal. I don't like cats very much, but Bouncer and Rascal were part of the family. Bouncer had longish hair and would often cough up hair balls...disgusting. Even more disgusting was the time she coughed up a tape worm. I assume right about now you are wishing you hadn't read this right before lunch. Sorry, you can't say I didn't warn you that these were probably things you didn't want to know about me.

6. I was once an Anthropology major at BYU. If you would like to add to my list of synonyms for "blow chunks" I would appreciate it. Anthropologists use Eskimos as a good example of how language reflects one's culture. Not surprisingly, Eskimos have a plethora of words to describe snow. Are you surprised that we have so many ways to say "throw up"? I assume it is a reflection of our American culture (or perhaps lack thereof).

Alright...I'm supposed to tag 6 people now. But I'm changing the rules a little. Please share 6 things I never wanted to know about you. Apparently there are no "touch backs". Wet willies for everyone who doesn't respond.

Erin, Ned, Emily, Megan, Lindsay, Mom/Dad

Wednesday, December 05, 2007

Updated Mouse Discussion...

Anna posted the mouse dilemma on a dicussion thread. Looks like I'm not the only one that has struggled with these decisions before. Read on if interested.

Oh yeah, and I may just be delirious from all the job hunting, but I noticed my niece had left one of her toys near the mouse trap. I thought it was pretty funny.

Tuesday, December 04, 2007

What Would You Do?

We have mice in the house. The other morning there was a fairly large one stuck in Mom and Dad's bathtub and Lindsay had heard one scrambling around in the kitchen. So naturally we set up a few mouse traps. The mouse in the kitchen was very elusive. For about 3 nights in a row we set the traditional trap and each morning the cheese would be gone with the trap still ready to spring. My parents accused me of playing a trick on them....which I didn't, but wish I had. Anyway, we took the battle up to the next level. We bought tar traps. I won't go into too much detail, but the tar trap is basically a flat piece of plastic with a small indentation for a thin layer of tar-like substance. Another night went by and we still weren't catching the little rodents. Last night we finally showed our unconquerable strategic decision making abilities and surrounded the traditional trap with 4 tar traps. The only way to get to the cheese was through the tar. Before the lights had gone out we had our mouse. Now here's the moral dilemma I faced. He was stuck in the tar, but still very alive and terrified. Having tar stuck to his feet and his nosed buried in the sticky stuff was his fate sealed? Did we have to find another way to finish him off? I didn't think I was up for the task, but my dad's eyes clearly said, "Your free rent this month depends on you taking care of this mess." So here were my options (parental discretion advised...the following suggestions may not be appropriate for young children).

1. Go find a shovel and "finish it off"

2. Drown the mouse (Dad's meek suggestion)

3. Burn the mouse (Anna's suggestion...but apparently she was suggesting that it be cremated and the ashes be scattered out of respect after the ordeal was over....not as a way to kill the mouse)

4. Let someone else deal with it (Lindsay's suggestion)

5. Just throw the trap and mouse in the garbage and assume it will either freeze, starve, or suffocate.

6. Surgically remove the mouse from the tar pad using a razor blade and set it "free". (Anna thought that it would be appropriate to set it free in the McDonald's dumpster for enduring our shup with the dramatic night).

So most of the options didn't seem that humane, and I decided to go with the last. I used the broadside of a pencil to hold the mouse down in the snow (Dad helped some too) and then I, paw by paw, released the mouse from the tar trap. The mouse clenched the pencil with its teeth (as if this was some real surgery that was being done without any sort of pain killer and the only way it could bear the pain was to sink its teeth into the soft # 2 pencil).

I'm sure this was much more dramatic than it ever had to be. I released the mouse from the tar, but couldn't get the tar off its feet. He was stuck to the cold concrete and probably not going to make it anyway. Oh yeah, and I think I also surgically removed a few of his toes on the last remaining paw. As I tossed the little guy into the field I wondered if I should have just knocked him out with the shovel at the beginning....but I just couldn't. So what would you have done? We may have more mice, so I'll probably be faced with this decision again.

Maybe we should find a live mouse trap so we can keep them. Mom would love that. Then we could feed them to our new pet snake.