Let Me Introduce You to my Little Friend--

As many may know Lindsey and I are now living alone in the vast apartment of OA 104. It can get lonely at times. And there are days when Lindsey and I are bored out of our minds for hours on end. Because of this people should not be surprised to find us in the apartment throwing marshmallows at each other while hanging upside down off the side of the couch or reenacting musicals in our living room. But tonight we found a new hobby called OCTAVIUS!!

After a fun-filled day Lindsey and I were sitting quietly, each on our separate couches, playing on our computers when were heard a small, rather distressed noise coming from outside of our door. Lindz and I looked at each other while I anxiously asked, "What is that?" Lindsey chose not to respond to me with words, but rather by mimicking the noise to which we heard yet another call from outside our door. At the same moment we each looked at each other, yelled, CAT!! and ran to the door. Upon opening the door we discovered the cutest little black and white Tabby cat ever! Both of us fell to our knees just inside our door to try to persuade little Tabby to come over and play with us. Lindz was more successful than I was and got the cat to come up to our door mat and lay down like a little puppy to pet its stomach.

As we were petting our little friend we decided that he looked hungry so we brought him inside to feed him some milk.
The cat loved the milk and soon began wandering around our apartment. We didn't know what to do with him but we knew we couldn't just turn him out into the cold dark night again so Lindsey grabbed some paper and started making LOST posters while I continued to play with the cat. It was difficult to always call him "cat" so I decided to name him Octavius. Lindsey liked the name Skipper (hello, I'm a teenage Barbie right?) But I soon persuaded her that Octavius was the name our little cat deserved. It's strong and powerful and reminds me of a Roman God so from that point forward little Tabby was known as Octavius.

This story is not very exciting because Lindz and I just played with Octavius for like two hours. We found some streamers because that is seriously the closest thing we had to string which little Tavius loved and then we tried to make him wear crowns and feather boas, the pictures of which you can see below.



Anyway, after hours of fun we decided that Octavius' real parents were probably missing him. So after giving Tavius lots of hugs Lindsey took him outside and dropped him off to scamper home. And now were are all alone once again . . .

Puppy Love

I just had to take this moment to share one of my new found obsessions called, Border Collie puppies!

First a little background into my life. I grew up in a small town (as everyone should know) and my dad is a farmer. Consequently, I have always had dogs growing up. I actually cannot remember a time in my life when we haven't had a dog in our backyard, that is until recently. We have had Cocker Spaniels, Irish setters, multiple mutts we randomly found who knows where, a Chocolate Lab, and by far the Nielsen family favorite, Golden Retrievers. However, we haven't had a dog grace our home for about four years (roughly the same amount of time my parents have been empty nesters). My last dog, Cocoa, met a tragic end courtesy of the green needle (he was euthanized) while I was away visiting my friend in Oregon. I still remember my parents picking me up at the airport and of course the first thing I asked about was my crazy yet lovable puppy only to find out that while I was away my dad had taken matters into his own hands and killed my dog! I cried the whole way home, a two hour drive folks. And I would have cried longer, but being sad is exhausting and I fell asleep as soon as I got home. But suffice it to say I am still super bitter about my Cocoa's end. But! the doggie death is the perfect tool to guilt my dad into getting me things. Or so I thought . . .
After I finished finals this year I came home for about a week before I had to start working again at the lovely Harold B. Lee Library. When I came home my sister-in-law and her four kids were also down for Jen's (my brother's wife) sisters wedding. One day my dad decided that he was going to take us all down to his friend's farm to see the new lambs. I was incredibly excited about this because I am a little obsessed with baby lambs. Now for some baby lamb background. If you really know me and Rach you would know that 1: Last year we both became a little obsessed and I pressed my dad for weeks trying to get him to give me and Rachael a bummer lamb to care for over the summer. And yes, I did use the Cocoa guilt trip to no avail and this brings up my second point. Once in High School Rach and I chased baby lambs around at my farm for like 15 minutes in shorts and flip flops AND in about three foot weeds. It was pretty great, only we weren't fast enough and those elusive lambs escaped our loving grasps.
Anyway, I have always wanted to feed and hold a lamb and this was my chance. So we went down to Ray Terry's farm and we saw the lambs. And they were so cute! One of them sucked on my finger for like five minutes and would have longer, except the mom got really mad and was stamping her foot at me and I freaked out and had to run away. Because, seriously, the last thing I need right now is to be attacked my a mad Ewe. I also saw a mom who just gave birth probably ten minutes before we got to the farm--to twins! It was incredible, and really gross . . . I'm not going into details, but I will never forget it.


So, onto my puppies. After we saw the lambs my dad casually asked, "So, do you guys want to go see the puppies?" I was climbing over a fence at the time he announced this and of course, being the graceful soul that I am, I sort of rolled over the top of the fence and slid down into the dirt. I couldn't be bothered with inconsequential things like fences at time like that. I, along with my four nieces and nephews jumped up and down with excitement and ran as fast as we could over to the puppy pit, as I now affectionately call it. As we rounded the corner we saw the three cutest puppies I had ever seen in my life. Chaos ensued. I was chosen to crawl into the dog house and retrieve the puppies, such a gift, let me tell you. Do I ever do anything not stupid looking? I think not. I think my family just did this to me on purpose so they could laugh outrageously, and probably take pictures. After I spent a considerable amount of time with my head in a dog house and my butt in the air I got all three puppies out and had secured one special puppy for me and me alone to hold. It is my favorite puppy of all time. It's a little chunky guy and all he ever wants to do is cuddle in your arms. To make the long first puppy visit a little shorter I will summarize. . . I greedily hogged the fat one and occasionly let my 18 month old nephew attempt to touch him. But, Tanner got super scared every time he got too close to the dog and would turn around and run away, doing the Randy whine the whole way (please say you know the Randy whine--if you don't, ask me. I will demonstrate for you) but he really enjoyed looking at the puppy from a distance. Mitch, my other nephew, threw one of the puppies into the water bowl then innocently told my dad that the puppy was 'all wet' and pointed at me when my dad asked what happened. Yes, that's my nephew for you. And Livy and Abby insisted on taking one home with them to Kansas. Livy even played the crying card. But alas, it didn't work.
My plan on securing a puppy was more subtle. I know from experience that crying only works with my dad on certain occasions, mainly car accidents. Only when I do get into those accidents, the tears are not planned. I release emotion quite frequently through tears . . .
Anyway, my plan was to make my dad fall in love with puppies as much as I had. So for the remainder of my time at home I made my dad take me every day to see the puppies. This was for my benefit too. I couldn't get enough of those guys. One day I even took Rachael with me and we both spent a long time playing with the puppies and taking pictures while my dad distanced himself by looking at the mutton sheep--he even feed them hay once. It was really strange, and of course, I had to mock for a little bit. But only later did I realize that he was onto my game and he was staying away so he wouldn't become attached to the puppies. Foiled again.

SO-- I had to go back to Provo for about two weeks, but today I am back in Ephraim, and yes, I did make my dad take me to see the puppies again. This time he even held one of them. My favorite fattie was running around a corner when we came up to the dog house, and my wonderful dad even tried to find him for me. My dad even crawled on the ground with me to look under to floorboards of the granary. Again I ask, do I ever do anything not stupid looking? Answer, no, I do not. So I once again spent a wonderful day playing with my border collie puppies and loving every minute of it. Throughout the puppy play-time I planted subtle hints to my dad saying, "Doesn't the mom have a good disposition, Dad?" and "Look at his eyes, he loves you!"
I even gave him the puppy and made him hold it because I 'had to tie my shoe' then I ran away and looked for the fat one for a little bit. But yet again my plan was ruined because my dad is just too smart for me. After I had my fun he made us leave and go home.

But never fear, we are going again tomorrow before I go back to Provo and with any luck I will get my puppy! I still have the Cocoa fiasco to bring up if all else fails. But in reality, I just don't think i will ever be getting that elusive puppy back to my house. Because, let's face it, while I am incredibly spoiled, my dad doesn't give me everything I want. Shocking I know. But maybe that puppy won't really love my little house with my just parents to keep him company. I don't think the puppy wants to watch Lifetime movies every night with two sixty years olds. But what do I know? And I won't be there that often to play with it . . . BUT I still have hope. I mean after all, my birthday is coming in July and what better present than a shiny new border collie puppy? And if all else fails, maybe I will just have to go behind my dad's back and get myself a new roommate for next year . . . I hope my other roommies won't mind . . .

My family and I spent the weekend at a cabin in Capitol Reef. It was beautiful and I had the most wonderful time exploring and hiking, so you can guess the shock I felt when I was going through my vacation pictures and discovered this, a demonic face in our fire!!!! My first thought was that clearly Satan is sending extra minions to wreak havoc on me because I'm so righteous and a huge threat to his evil plans. But then I remembered that just the other day I not only swore once, but twice at the BYU Track and Field invitational when Jens (my brother) and his teammate dropped their baton on the four-by-one relay, hardly the conduct of a devout christian. And then the thought came to me that maybe the fiend wasn't there to tempt me, but another member of the Howe clan. But that option quickly went out the window because let's face it, everything's about me, Me, ME! So now I'm lost and confused as I contemplate this baffling dilemma, and will probably remain so until someone flashes a puppy or cookie in front of my face, in which case I'll forget the whole thing.
On a side note, look how beautiful Calf Creek is. We hiked there on Saturday. I'd imagine heaven looks a lot like Calf Creek, and maybe one day I'll find out if the devil will stop sending his demons and I can abstain from saying the "S" word.