To be 17...

You know how on blogs people actually follow, people have guest bloggers? Well, lets pretend I invited my sister to do that, but I really just stole her photos to share with the world, because no matter how much bad there is in the world there is still enough good (like you people) who deserve a little photographic love.

To be 17 and have the talent of this girl here. Anneliese (no middle name) Carter is, as most of you know, my little sister and alter ego. Famous for her speedy "that's what she said" and wit. Sister's got it all, plus she just posted her own photo gallery on Flickr today. And because she is hardly proud but truly talented, I will graciously be the one to share them with you.

The charming, handsome {son} of Cade and Kassidy Carter. He's just as classy as his mom and pop.

Keep snappin' pics, Ace (ha! newest nickname for A.C.). I hope this girl never stops and teaches me some tricks of the trade. Check out her blog acarter-thenewgirlintown.blogspot.com for some more inspiration on how to be spectacular.

Sinner's Motorcycle Club

It's a common phrase, but an unmistakably golden idea - "if I could have a quarter for every time I heard... michael white ask for a motorcycle."

"Couldn't you just see me cruisin' down the freeway to law school?"

"No."

"Ahh, Babe."

"No. I'd rather have you alive than save a little gas money or have you look cool."

"But, Babe."

You get the story. So tonight when we went strolling around Springville with the Probsts, and yes, I understand it's a random saturday night activity, we spotted the next best thing to Michael's hopeful cycle.

This is the famous sculpture by "I'm a Mormon" Jeff Decker, member of sinner's motorcycle club and a mormon. duh.

Maybe Michael can get a motorcycle if he makes a sweet video like this AND wears a full-leather body suit, helmet, wrist-guards, elbow and knee-pads. I'm paranoid.

Off to the Isles

World, meet Sister Megan Looney, one of our newest sister missionaries at the MTC. She is called to serve in the, yep I'm going to say it, the Honolulu, Hawaii mission. It's hard to imagine, but that girl will make the sun shine even brighter on those beaches, because that's what Megan does, she glows.

FYI, this honorary blog post is not meant to be an epilogue, even though I keep telling myself "she's gonna come back again. we'll be able to go running, yogurt eating, movie watching and traveling again someday."

No, this is a toast to a mass of letters with "dear looney... love, stay."

I will 100% miss this girl.

Next up, Sister Claire Pingree, photographer, designer and friend extraordinaire.

Here's the two of 'em. Little did they know they'd be serving a mission in a little over a year from them. Ha!

{I'll be back to post about this little number when she leaves for the MTC august 3 with everybody's favorite Sister Janey Taylor. At least Michael gets to see all of my friends considering he helps run the place}

Runner Exxxx

Feast your eyes on the dirty dash: 9 miles, 6 people, 2 teams, and 1 photographer (moi)

"Oh hot JAMN" came in 2nd!
{Jeff AND Michael + Nick}

We were up at 7:30 AM headed up to some motocross trail in Salt Lake for these MTC co-workers and team Soil Sisters to endure a trek over hill and dirty dale.


Before


After


I totally should've come prepared with running shorts and shoes. Next year. But then again standing around and taking pictures was a little less treacherous

Les Miserables

Ron White called the day we left for Fourth of July Weekend in California to say that we were going to my favorite show of all time. I remember listening to this soundtrack roadtrip after roadtrip growing up, so although I knew every word, I refrained from singing along and spared the audience.

Thank you White Family!!

And thank you Julie for crying with me -- that show will do it to ya.

I had to throw this photo in, because we all look a little "not ready" for the camera (except our lovely Christie)

Ode to Faja

For the first time I've come to the blogosphere speechless, because I don't even know where to begin. How do we "kids" define and thank our fathers for everything they do. The only way that comes to mind is to speak their language.

Hey dad,

Last night at the rodeo a clown pulled a bra out of a car calling it a fan belt. He said "this thing here reminds me of that ole Barack Obama -- loosing more and more support everyday."

And what is more "dad" than The Beatles.

I can honestly say that without our dads' shameless Beatles brainwashing, Michael and I would never survive the occasional road trip. Our music taste is as different as black and white (no pun intended).

With that, to all our dads that double as our friend, it's easy to see "We get by with a little help from our friends."

thanks for all the years of help, laughter and love

Strawberry Days

Ro-de-o: [Rho-dee-oh]: n. a public exhibition of cowboy skills, as bronco riding and calf roping.

If you've never been to the Strawberry Days Pleasant Grove Rodeo, it's time to change your ways. The Probsts invited us to join and opened our eyes to a grand 'ole time.

The Probsts:

Our dearest friends from Spanish Fork.

Sad I didn't take a picture of this, but they sell a bowl of sliced strawberries soaking in sweet cream for $1.50. So good.