run erin run.

This morning I signed up for the Timpanogos Half Marathon. Crazy, right? I hate running. Every time I start I silently curse the forsaken exercise for at least the first two to three miles. But once I hit mile three, something happens inside me.
No, I'm not going to call it a runner's high, because there's nothing high about my feet repeatedly pounding the pavement, and the monotony of inhales and exhales to keep up with my forward motion. It's almost like I hit a numbness, and in that moment I no longer feel the ache in my legs or the burn in the tips of my lungs. It's like my body just gives up and says, "fine, what the heck, keep running then. You suck."

So I keep running. On Monday, in fact, I ran just under seven miles.

Today when Mark proposed we run a half...something we've been considering for awhile...I figured, what the heck. Let's do it. We signed up, we paid our money, and now we're in. There's no turning back, but I figured why not get a few of you out there to do it with me. It could be like a super-cool group thing. You know, all the cool people are doing it.

So if you want to join me, click on the link for details:

Timpanogos Half Marathon

best album ever. oh, and a contest.

I was recently reading a friend's post in which she asked, "what's your favorite road trip song ever?"
Well, my first thought was:
Of course, I'm Moving On by Rascal Flatts
That song is a given for all road trips. If you haven't sung your guts out with the Rascal Flatts boys to the smooth harmonies of I'm Moving On while driving down the I-15, then you haven't road tripped. Just hearing the song on the radio puts an itch in my step to jump in my mini (van, that is) and head North or South to my sister's homes.
But before I could type my answer, a buried memory clawed it's way out of my cobwebbed brain, and I thought of another road trip I took years ago. During a short-lived summer job in New York City, I accompanied my boss to her summer home in the Adirondacks. We drove for a few hours at most, but what I remember was bonding over a particular album that we both loved:

U2 - Joshua Tree

Favorite song:
Where the Steets Have No Name

Um, pretty much. Best. Song. Ever.

The songs in Joshua Tree were like my personal anthem for that summer, and many more after. In recent years, I lost the album and sadly forgot about how much I loved playing it over and over again. That is, until Ally's post. And if you want, you can go and enter her contest:

HERE

And now that I have that memory back, the Summerills are going to be enjoying the musical stylings of Bono and the U2 gang once again. 

What's your all time favorite album?

second day of the journey I came across a large group of Wilcoxen...

Remember how I said my sister has seven kids, well I shot them all! Muah ha ha ha...ok, pardon my ill-placed humor. I see now that sounds disturbing, possibly sick. It could be a result of my easter bingeing, but regardless, it was uncalled for. However, that doesn't stop me from posting the fruits of my labor, the kill of my hunt, the fabulous picture of all 9 Wilcoxen! (That's what you call a family of Wilcox, just saying.)

Enjoy your Monday. Luv, erin

seven.

My sister has seven kids. I have four. That means, she has practically twice the amount of kiddoes running under foot than I do. Twice the mess. Twice the chaos. Twice the noise. So up until we visited her I thought to myself, why would any sane person have more kids than I have because I can't even keep up with the four that I have. And then when I was staying at her home in California, I remembered.

Because they're so sweet and cuddly. And they look up at you like this:

Isn't this little gal so adorable? I can understand the temptation to have another one, so sweet and cuddly and cute. Is this a spew of my own future desires? Heck no. I'm still set with my four...especially after Ruby and Teddy made sure everyone in church heard their uncanny ability to mimic a machine gun during the sacrament. That was a treat. But in all honesty, I love my four. I'm grateful for the manic joy they bring me every day...especially today when my thoughts are on all that the Lord has given me. Manic chaos and all, I've certianly be blessed.

Happy Easter.

luv, erin

build it and he will come.

Remember Field of Dreams? Such a classic, back when Kevin Costner was pure awesome.

Today Brekke, my frienemy, came by with her decadant strawberry lime "scratch" cakes (cupcakes made without a box mix). Unfortunately for me, and my kids that may or may not have heard me curse, I am not eating sugar. Mark and I agreed, when we returned from California, that our sugar days were over. So for the last five days I've been doing great.

And them Brekke came.

Well, I did tell her in the past, "Bring it and I will shoot." And so she did. I guess I shouldn't be complaining. I only had to leave the room once, fist stuffed securely in my mouth, to keep myself from lunging at the scratch cake and shoving it, wrapper and all, in my mouth. Now I have these lovely pictures to post.

Enjoy a strawberry lime Brekke-Cake.

Sigh. Remember when I could eat sugar and my hair wouldn't fall out. Yes, those were the good days.



hot sister of hair.

There are many things that I covet. The number one thing being: My Sister's HAIR!

If you don't know who she is, you can check her out:

HERE

As I was saying, she has Hair. Loads of it, and I have none. When we were younger I was convinced my hair was thin because of her mean, hair-pulling, older-sister ways. I see now that I lucked out and got the bum, thin-hair gene which isn't helped when I eat sugar or caffiene...there will be another post on this conundrum later...as I was saying, Nikki has awesomely thick hair. I love it and I'm jealous of it.

Confession over. Here she is.

A head full of hair, and smokin' hot.

This picture was taken during the Summerill Family Trip to SO-CAL 2011...also, there will be many of these pics to follow. Stay tuned all your 2 readers!

weedy niece.

My niece is growing like a weed.

hairy situation.

This is my husband, Mark:

Hairy? Yes.
Why? Simply because I cut his hair and I haven't had time to do so in the last year. So Mark got to embrace the 70's and grow out his wavy fro (as pictured above).

So, this last week I figured, why not really rock the 70's look. After a little persuasion, he was shorn like a sheep, sampsoned like Delilah would want it, de-hair-i-fied to look like this:

Oh yeah, baby! That's hotness for you.
But his serious man-ness was a little overwhelming after about 30 seconds, so we cut the rest off and now here's the new and improved Mark:

 

Which "look" do you like best?

a. 70's Fro

b. Mullet Man

c. Clean Cut Mark

I'm leaning toward Mullet Man.

Throw in a wife-beater top and a dirty old truck and he'd have some serious Mullet style.

luv, erin

Yard SALE!!! You know you wanna come.

Guess who's having a MASSIVE yard sale tomorrow? 

ME ME ME...want good stuff, come to my place: 

439 E 900 N, PG.

henry.

I try really hard not to label my kids, at least not while they're listening. I don't want them to think that's how they should always be. For example: if I said, "George is my shy child."

I would feel like a fail-mom if he never made any friends because of his tendency towards being shy.

But, since my kiddos hardly read this blog, I feel I can spurt about anything on here without them knowing. Mom-Of-The-Year goes to me, I know. I pretty much dropped that award in my pocket years ago.

So let me just say, my kiddos are gloriously different from one another.

Sometimes I love it. Other times, not so much.

The other day I overheard Henry say to George:

 "Hey Georgie, what happens when you're feeling really grateful for something, but you really have to toot?"

Did your eye brows just screw together in a "Did I seriously just hear that?"

Mine certainly did.

Henry's answer: "You have a gratitoot!"

I'm not going to lie, a laugh burst from my lips and I thought to myself, that kid is definitely mine.

I'm so grateful to have Henry. He's clever, witty, charming and always fun.

Happy eight years old, kiddo!



book love.

When I first read My Fair Godmother, I died over it. I laughed and cried and wanted more, more, more.

I told friends to read it and then I searched out, stalked, and befriended the author. It's been almost two years since all that happened and I'm finally so super excited to tell you that the second book in the series is coming out. I believe it will be as epically humorous and romantic and adorable as the first. And, she's giving it away FREE!

http://janette-rallison.blogspot.com/2011/03/fairygodmother-countdown-give-away-arc.html

Cut and paste the above address in your browser to try for a free copy of:

Don't you just love the book cover? Sigh.

cupcake.

As if I didn't need another reason to break Lent. Brekke, an amazing photographer and friend, showed up on my doorstep today with a lovely box of these goodies (see images below). Believe me when I say they smell as good as they look. So here's the new motto of my little ghetto blog:

If You Bring It, I Will Shoot It.

Do you think it's too Kevin Costner? Nah, I didn't think so either.

So, if you perchance happen to make something mouth-watering and ridiculously good-looking, don't hesistate to stop by my house. I take a couple shots, more than a couple bites, and we'll call it good.

luv, erin

And in case you were wondering, the cupcakes on the left are blueberry cream cheese, and the ones on the right are peanut butter chocolate. Terrible, right? Ugh. Talk about kill my Lent with a fiery vengence.

popcorn and parties

Every year March rolls around and my stomach clenches in knots. You see, I lucked out in the birthday department. My oldest two boys are born 2 years and 4 days apart. So every other March (we have friend's parties on the even years), I get to throw one wildly enormous party or two parties 4 days apart. Neither option thrills me, but this year I opted for the easy route.

Two parties. Both a trip to the movie theater so my house stay's intact.

A Movie Party! Easy right? Well, not so much. Herding 15 kids to the movie theater and back wasn't my finest mommy moment. I'll spare you the details, but I will share my one epiphany of the week. In photoshop I made these nifty popcorn invitations, and then I googled popcorn cupcakes and came up with a plan to make what you see below. If you like it, let me know and I'll be glad to pass along the party invite in a digital file.

Oh, and if you want to check out my George-a-pie's pics, they're up on my photo blog:

www.erinsummerillphotography.com/blog

withdrawal. an ode to sugar.

I am

a crack addict

not really, but holy hell it feels like it

Today.

one of the lovely ladies at the PG Rec Center ate a doughnut!

In front of me.

Can you believe that?

The sweet smell of sugar glaze was like fire to my nose.

Burning my olfactory system with maple sugary goodness.

Sugar.

Sugar. 

Sugar. 

Itch. Scratch. Itchy. Scratch. Scratch. 

I want me some SUGAR!

Withdrawals suck. 

38 days from now, I'm going to feel like a friggin' rockstar. 

38 days to go. 

LENT. die sugar die.

Lent, typically followed by Catholics, starts tomorrow.

I am not Catholic, however, I see the need in my life and my family's to break our addiction to sugar. And I figure, why not do it now while a great deal of other people are doing the same. Mark and I started our quest to cut sugar at the beginning of the year, and we did awesome for quite some time. The last few weeks, littered with holidays and vacations, haven't been the best. And I'll tell you, I can feel the difference.

When I eat a lot of sugar, frankly, I feel like Poo!

I'm tired. Blue. Un-motivated. Sluggish. Mean.

Pretty much, life sucks. Watch the video, you'll see what I'm talking about.

So, though I know cutting the sugar addiction is hard (I've traveled this road before), I also know it's better for my well-being.

I'm not saying that all sugars like those found in fruit and veggies are bad, but I definitely think rocky road ice cream before bed isn't scoring points with my thighs.

So here's the plan:

40 Days to become a healthier, more-energetic me!

Eliminate:

Candy

Cake

Cookies

Anything made with High Fructose Corn Syrup

Any processed food that has SUGAR listed as one of the first three ingredients

Are you in?

to mark.

I know it's cliche it is to say, "time flies," but there isn't another phrase that can accurately describe how fast the years of our marriage have passed. It seems like just yesterday we tied the knot, moved to a cozy apartment in Springville, and started our exciting married life together. It's funny, really, to think of how poor we were back then. How we scraped by on $800 a month. How we once walked by the Springville Taco Bell together and my mouth watered something bad, but it just wasn't in our budget to buy even a taco. How could it be on $800 a month?
We were the poster children for poor married college students. Living on nothing but love.

I used to curse our stinking poorness, and pray for the day when I could go to the grocery store and buy whatever I wanted to buy.

Shari, your older sister, once told me that I'd look back one day and miss the struggle, and the small apartment, and the nights you and I walked up and down the block because that's all we could afford to do.
At the time Shari was talking to me, I thought, Yeah Right! But it's true. Even though I love our lives now, our four kiddoes, our lazy fat dog, our home and careers, I do miss those early days. And at the same time I'm so glad we've moved on. The last dozen years have been littered with trials. Ugh, more than I wish to count. Finances, loss, moving, children, worry, health...so much to remember, and I'm sure there's so much more to come. But the crazy thing is, as I sit here and try to remember all we've been through together I keep getting stuck on the "we." The trials fade from my thoughts and all I see is You.
You, by my side.
That's all that's important.
I'm grateful that you're the one that's gone through it all with me. You are an amazing husband that is my equal, or better, in every way. There isn't a day that goes by when I don't thank the Lord for blessing me you as my companion. I hope our next dozen years will be as wonderfull hard and sweet and rich as the last dozen.

Happy anniversary, Mark. luv, erin

Now, if you've read through all my sap today, and you want to see some amazing pictures of our recent trip to Key Biscayne, Florida, go check out my photo blog: www.erinsummerillphotography.com/blog

the book list.

Fact 1. I read a lot.

Fact 2. More often than not, I'm quite opinionated on what I read. However, that being said, I've found that my opinion on books, plots, characters, themes, yada, yada, yada, sometimes, more than other times, differs from what my family and friends think.

So what does that mean?

I like to think it means I know what's right and best, and they know jack squat. But seeing as that may or may not be seen as an abrasive judgement, I've settled on the idea that people all like books for different reasons. (Yep, that's the epiphany, folks. I know, I know, deep thoughts.)

Fact 3. Even though we may not agree on all books, there is a book list (of the best books) that all people should read.

(I see you might take argument with the fact that I named fact 3 a "fact". But, I direct you to the title of this blog, and remind you that it's my blog, so therefore, I have the power of creating "facts." Sorry. That's just the rules. I don't make them...most of the time.)

So what's the point?

The point is I, miss-read-a-lot, have created the book list. Books, that everybody should read, but particularly people who love YA lit. Cool people, like me. Just saying. These are books that have excellent character voice, or amazing plot lines, tension, conflict, a protagonist that speaks to my heart, and so on. Frankly, I love these books, and you should too.

My Top Ten

1. The Giver by Lois Lowry

(One of my first, and all time favorite, dystopic novels.)

2. Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card

(A must read for all high school boys, and girls who think their lives are controlled. Ha, read this and think again.

3. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte

(My all time favorite romance. Sigh.)

4. Unwind by Neal Shusterman

(Probably my second favorite dystopic novels. Eerie, and thought-provoking.)

5. Just One Wish by Janette Rallision

(One of my favorite authors. Hilarious, witty, and heart-wrenching at the same time. If you love that book, then also read My Fair Godmother, another amazing book by Janette Rallison.)

6. The Thief, The Queen of Attolia, The King of Attolia

(So I cheated on this one and listed three books. When I first fell in love with this series, I read the thrid book first. To be fair, it's my favorite. However, you can't just read the third. I suggest when you sit down to read these books you read the first, second and third all together as if reading a giant book. It's so worth it.)

7. Graceling by Kristen Cashore

8. Birthmarked by Caragh Obrien

(It takes a lot for me to give a book five stars on Goodreads. But I gave this book the full five stars. Sidenote: if you're not on Goodreads, than you should join now.)

9. The Hunger Games (Trilogy) by Suzanne Collins

(I'm not saying that I love the third book, but you can't just read one in three, can you?)

10. Mistborn (Trilogy) by Brandon Sanderson

(I never thought I liked epic fantasy, that is, until I read the Mistborn Trilogy.)

Bonus: I'd Tell You I Love You, But Then I'd Have to Kill You (Series) by Ally Carter

(The series, similar to Harry Potter, starts with a light hearted learning premise, and around book four the stakes get higher and the mood darker. I absolutely love this series.)

There you have it, my ten, plus a few, favorites. There were at least a couple dozen more I could've added to this list, but I figured you have to start somewhere. No go, read, and let me know how much you love these books too.

where i've been.

Weather Forecast: It's yucky. Yep, that's the technical term when the wind's blowing and rain pelts my windows in angry fat drops. The sky, not the lovely inky blue of Key Biscayne, but a mottled gray, mocks me and my newly acquired tan. Fine, sunburn. Dang, I thought my part Hawaiian skin would hold up better than that. I guess I should've listened to that creepy 90's song and actually worn sunscreen.

Here's where I've been for the last week.

Did you miss me? Loathe the cyber-silence I left you in?

(No need to answer that question, lest I fall into an even deep pit of moaning and misery.) 

But, I'm back now.

You've been warned.

Bring on the posts.

luv, erin

rules.

I've spent the last few days at LTUE, learning how to turn my craptastic novel writing into something spectacularly un-crappy. In order to do this, I first must follow the rules. Guidelines, if you will, that will mold and shape my writing, and self image into something that's marketable, manageable, malleable. Hoops to jump through. Feats to accomplish.
Honestly, (because my novel writing isn't the best) it's amazing how much I need to do.
Ugh (insert whiney groan because at heart, I'm truly a lazy arse).
But, because I'm determined to one day shake hands with MR. PUBLISHER, and grin like a wildcat (Go Troy Bolton!) when he passes over my first royalty check, I'm going to follow the rules.

So in the meantime...while I'm attending this science fiction and fantasy writing conference, I've decided to take the liberty to write some of my own rules. Why? You ask. Because as I've gone throughout the day and shared space with hundreds of other hopeful writers (believe me, the classes have been packed and that's not necessarily a good thing), a few things have become clear to me.
Undeniably clear.

And so, you see, I've come up with a list of my own. 

Rules for attending a Sci-Fi/Fantasy Writing Conference: 

1. Shower.
I hate to say it, but when you pack a few hundred people into a room that has the body capacity for 50, it gets warm and stinky pretty fast. Take a look at the type of conference I'm attending. Believe me, ode of greasy head isn't what I want to bathe in for hours each day. So please Sci-Fi and Fantasy friends, shower.

2. Turn off your D*%# cell phone.
I don't care who you are, it's rude when your cell phone screams a creepy 'howler' ring smack dab in the middle of a NYT bestselling author's explanation of the revision process.

3. Use shampoo. 
I realize that I've already cautioned those attending this type of Con to shower. But it's come to my attention due to close proximity of another that perhaps all sci-fi/fantasy loving, fantastically long-haired males don't understand that proper showering includes a good scrubbing with shampoo that will cleanse the scalp of greasy clumping oils. Please, use shampoo, lest the sweet gal beside you pass out from overdose of head stink.

4. No crying.
I know Brandon Sanderson and Jessica Day George make you swoon just by walking in the room, but for the love of all things holy, don't bawl like a baby in front of them. It's just not cool. And again, I know it's a Sci-Fi writing conference, but you have to draw the line somewhere.

5. Keep your D&D where it belongs.
This is a writing conference. Not a boys gaming quest. Please no more D&D questions, and how it applies to Lord of the Rings. Please...I'm dying here.

And last, but certainly not least:

6. Just don't do it.
When one of the class options for the hour is "Bella as Mother Savior..." just walk away. Don't attend. Pretend it's an ink stain on the list of possible Con classes to take. A grave mistake that you don't have to be a part of.

So, follow these simple rules, and you too can make it through a Sci-Fi Writing Conference without passing out, offending others, dropping your dignity off the empire state building of self-worth, or permanently scarring your brain.

sick, sad, and sweet.

Today I shot a bride.
It was a beautiful bridal/groomal session, that once I edit will remind me why I love to shoot.
As for now. I hate it.
Not the bride and groom, but the shooting part.
Why? You ask.
Because the equipment costs so dang much.
And on a beautiful sunny, warm, February day like today, I was a complete idiot.
My light, hooked securely to a stand, toppled as soon as the wind blew.
And in that moment, the very moment I'd stepped away to take a shot with out the light, my new (only used twice) expensive light hit the ground with a crash and BROKE!
Son of a %#$!
Heck yes I was PO!
But, I finished the shoot. And thanks to an awesome bride and groom that are equally stunning, I'm sure my shots will look wonderfully delightful.
As for my light.
It's broke.

So I fumed at my own stupidity all the way home.
And when I walked in, cursing this very Valentine's Day, I found a delightful treat that practically made me cry. So beautiful. So delectible. So helpful to erase my worries...well for all of 2.7 seconds that it took me to down the sweet bliss of cookie.

Thank you amazing friend that makes equally amazing cookies. You are my Valentine!