Plus one of me that Til took:


You should put it on the blog & write "Rising Food Costs" above it. -Taft

Yesterday "someone" tried to make cookies.
But apparently they mixed the dough up too much (it was the kind where most of the ingredients come in a bag and you add the liquids), and it ended up looking like double-chocolate-yuck cookie dough. 
So the "someone" who made the dough decided to just throw it away.
Mom finds the dough in the garbage and pulls it out and makes cookies out of it. (Apparently the dough was on top of some plastic, so it was totally still good, and besides, it's getting cooked. That'll kill all the germs.)
Taft, the kind person that he is, decides that he needs to warn the rest of the family of the potential dangers of these cookies.
So he makes a sign:
And Tavin & Drey felt the need to act out their feelings concerning the cookies (I didn't pose them or anything...they just do this stuff on their own):
Haha we love you Mom!
On an unrelated note: Tavin fell off of a teeter-totter, and his wound looks like a snake bite:


Drey made dinner for us today, and while he was cooking I took pictures of him:

His feet are pretty awesome in a gross feet way :D

I didn't take this picture today, but I thought I would throw it in. He's like the chicken whisperer or something...

And this is what Drey made for dinner, just in case you were curious...I sometimes miss photographing food...


Prayer Is the Soul's Sincere Desire

We sang this song in Relief Society last Sunday. I had never heard it before, and I thought it was nice.

Prayer is the soul's sincere desire,
Uttered or unexpressed,
The motion of a hidden fire
That trembles in the breast.

Prayer is the burden of a sigh,
The falling of a tear,
The upward glancing of an eye
When none but God is near.

Prayer is the simplest form of speech
That infant lips can try;
Prayer, the sublimest strains that reach
The Majesty on high.

Prayer is the Christian's vital breath,
The Christian's native air,
His watchword at the gates of death;
He enters heav'n with prayer.

Prayer is the contrite sinner's voice,
Returning from his ways,
While angels in their songs rejoice
And cry, "Behold, he prays!"

The Saints in prayer appear as one
In word and deed and mind,
While with the Father and Son
Their fellowship they find.

Nor prayer is made on earth alone:
The Holy Spirit pleads,
And Jesus at the Father's throne
For sinners intercedes.

O thou by whom we come to God,
The Life, the Truth, the Way!
The path of prayer thyself hast trod:
Lord, teach us how to pray.

click to play: the hymn

i can't sleep. i only have 8 more days until i leave...and that makes me excited, scared, and sick...