As tradition dictates, Jason and I spent New Year’s Eve in the company of many a friend. Being invited to more New Year’s parties than we can reasonably attend has somehow become the norm for us. Is it our sparkling personalities perhaps? Or maybe our limitless charm? Could it be our unfailing humility? Who knows. The possible reasons for why we are so in demand are numerous but the result is the same regardless of the cause: a night packed with multiple events and whole lot of socializing.

As in times past, this year we spread ourselves between three parties. (We’ve decided that three gatherings are pretty much the limit to our spreading, possibly because we have shear-thickening rheological properties.) We caught up with Jason’s old Pizza Hut coworkers at Bob’s get-together, were humorously penalized for playing cards too slowly at the Rowley’s, and ate ice cream with Cam and Fran and company. We rang in 2012 right with a hefty dose of our chums, so much so that my voice was little more than a squeak by the end of the evening.

Chris, Bob, and Miah all worked with Jason at Pizza Hut many moons ago. We caught up with them while a live band provided a background of pleasing tunes.

Along with celebratory parties, most people observe the New Year by coming up with a list of resolutions. I am generally opposed to these annual pledges because they typically don’t stick and, as many of you know, I never commit to anything that I don’t fully intend to follow through on. However, this year I decided to make a resolution list of one: eat more whole grains.

You see, a couple months back I underwent a series of wellness evaluations and blood tests as part of a workplace program designed to increase employee health awareness and motivate positive lifestyle changes. Not surprisingly, I am a pretty solidly healthy person. My heart is in great shape, my cholesterol and triglyceride levels are perfect, and I can do more pushups than all but one of my female coworkers. (I didn’t see that whole arm supremacy thing coming; given the flabby state of my upper limbs I bet you didn’t see it coming either.) But, although my “metabolic age” is 19 and that makes me feel all tough and fuzzy inside, my test results showed one issue: my blood sugar is higher than optimal and in the “pre-diabetic” range.

Jason and I happily welcomed 2012. It's sure to be another fantastic year.

My glucose has always been a little screwy. My family has a rampant predisposition, which I too share, for experiencing hypoglycemia. I’ve learned to manage this problem better through the years by eating small meals frequently to avoid the shakes, headaches, grouchiness, and cold sweats that can hit me like a plaque. I don’t know whether this annoying condition has anything to do with my recent blood sugar reading or not but I’m not willing to risk inaction in the chance that it doesn’t.

I certainly don’t fit the profile of a syndrome X sufferer. I’m not overweight, I exercise regularly, and I eat fairly healthy. So, based on the odds, diabetes shouldn’t be something I have to contend with. However, once again, it’s not a risk I’m willing to take. Unlike the majority of Americans out there, I’m not going to wait until I have a diagnosed ailment to do something about it. Hence, I resolved to eat more whole grains this year.

Besides just being more nutritious, whole grains can be a great help to those trying to keep their blood sugar under wraps. Complex carbohydrates don’t mess with your glucose levels nearly as much as their simple sugar counterparts and they contain fiber, which has an anti-diabetic effect.

Why not totally reinvent all my eating habits and start living solely on spirulina and wheat grass? Dietary changes need to be such that you can follow them indefinitely. They need to be permanent lifestyle alterations. Anything too restrictive generally doesn’t last. I can eat more whole grains. I can substitute processed grains for their wholegrain equivalents whenever possible. That is an attainable and sustainable goal. So that is a good place to start.

Thus, I have revealed my New Year’s resolution to the world and now there is no going back. You, the fine people of the World-Wide Web, are my witnesses that this goal is a go. I get my blood sugar tested again in six months and we shall see just how much of an impact my modified eating habits have on my health.

To the parties and preventative measures of 2012!

Valentine’s Day: is any holiday as simultaneously loved and hated? I think not. Valentine’s Day makes some giddy with anticipation and others overcome with dread. Its advocates love the gushing cheesiness and cliché romance it embodies. Its loathers despise all of thee above or they despise that their partner expects all of thee above from them on this day even if they are content with far less the rest of the time.

Jason brought these beautiful flowers to my work on Valentine's Day. All my coworkers were jealous that they didn't have a Jason to spoil them.

This year, instead of going on my usual tirade about how I hate Valentine’s Day haters, I am going to simply write about, in a very drawn-out manner, what made my valentine’s as spectacular as it always is. This will be as good of an explanation for why I am no hater as any. Because, although my holiday may have been stuffed with more cheese than a block of Velveeta, it was fun, it was romantic, it was full of expected surprises. It was everything Valentine’s Day should be.

I wrapped Jason's presents in the cutest wrapping paper. I'm not entirely sure he properly appreciated their cuteness.

It was Jason’s turn to plan out Valentine’s Day celebration this year. He isn’t the party organizing machine I am but he does alright for himself. He came up with a three-pronged plan for our festivities. The first part of the plan involved going out to dinner with our friends the Rowleys and the Ashleys to a new place in Salt Lake City called The Copper Onion. This restaurant’s niche is locally sourced food that is turned into made from scratch deliciousness. I very much enjoyed the beef stroganoff I ordered. How can you go wrong with fresh made noodles? And surprisingly, The Copper Onion was very economical. Dinner and deserts for both me and Jason only set us back $50.

Pago was scrumptious but I still can't figure out what the name refers to.

Part deux of Jason’s Valentine’s Day strategy had a very similar plot to part one. Another new restaurant specializing in local offerings was involved but this time the dinning was at a place called Pago and no friends were invited. V-Day dinner numbero dos was also yummy, pricier, but still yummy and spending some one-on-one time with my muy fantastico hubby was grand.

The adorable dress I wore to the dance came from my shopping spree in New York City. Good thing I decided to spend way to much money out there.

The last of our Valentine’s Day partying actually happened on the actual holiday. We went with our friends Dan and Raquel, and some of their acquaintances, to a dinner dance at Thanksgiving Point. I am a sucka for the dance floor so I was stoked about getting a chance to boogie. The food at the dance was decent but not noteworthy. However, the live band was terrific and the setting was lovely. I would recommend this event to anyone wanting to do something romantic on Valentine’s Day without having to fight the restaurant crowds; it always sells out though so make sure you plan ahead.

I gave Jason a new snowboard for Valentine's Day. He was totally shocked and so excited about it that he couldn't fall asleep that night.

Jason and I had another great love day but that’s not surprising; the two of us have a blast doing pretty much anything together. And those of you under the impression that I did all of the V-Day receiving and none of the giving are mistaken. I made sure Jason was bombarded by random flashy deliveries at work, a cookie bouquet and chocolate covered strawberries, because everyone needs some Valentine’s Day spousal embarrassment. His love was also effectively bought with lots of presents, including a new snowboard. So all you haters can ram that cheese right down your throats!

Christmas represents a lot of different things to different people. For many it is a time of gathering, of renewing connections with family and friends. For some it is a chaotic blur of shopping and hosting that leaves exhaustion in its wake. To others it signifies a renewing of hope and faith in the goodness of the human race and in the future of mankind.

For me I think Christmas is a little of all of the above…and perhaps more.

Jas and his brother Matt: crackers with cracker crowns.

Jas and I are rarely pictured together so this photo is a treat.

Wes was all about cheesy smiles as he played with new toys aplenty.

These are the men of my family-or at least the portion of them that was present and willing to sit still for a moment.

Like most people, Jason and I are super busy at Christmastime. I am a very organized person so I start my Christmas shopping well in advance but even with my abnormally early preparations there still always seems to be a general shortage of time to accomplish all that needs to be done before the big day. We love that we live near both of our families and so are able to spend time with each of them on Christmas but this double family whammy sometimes isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. Many a Christmas has passed where Jason and I have had very little time to ourselves and haven’t even had a chance to open our Christmas presents to each other until midnight or later. I love our families but I love Jason more. (Sorry fams, you can’t seriously think you can compete with that boy.) That’s why I was so grateful when our family get-togethers this year weren’t all scheduled for Christmas. Jason’s family gathered on Christmas Eve while my family members spent a few hours with each other on Christmas afternoon. This left me and Jason some sublime time for sleeping in and making breakfast together on Christmas morning. Fantastico! Since our holiday evening was also free, shockingly, we gladly used it to make a yummy dinner of chicken marsala and gingerbread cookie sandwiches. Lovely, lovely, lovely. I think I’m going to have to insist on less packed Christmases in the future-I can’t go back now that I’ve had a taste of that restful sweetness-I’m hooked.

We gave my sister and her husband longboards for Christmas. John was so thrilled about his board that he had to go right out into the freezing night to give it a try.

Our nephew, Jadon, was very excited about his candy cane and homemade sweater. And I was excited when I realized that the two canes in this picture are chiral images of each other.

The chicken marsala I made for our Christmas dinner was scrumptious! Thanks Robyn for the great recipe.

Jason bought me a new snowboard for Christmas. I was eager to give it a go in our living room.

So what does Christmas mean to me, besides busyness and the crammed family schedule that we somehow avoided this year? It means fun and crazy Black Friday shopping with friends and family. It means hiding presents for Jason in the “secret closet” until the closet doors will no longer close and being supremely excited about my ingenious gift ideas for that superb man. It means spoiling the members of our families that we happen to draw the names of pretty rottenly. It means listening to Christmas music and being unable to keep from tearing up a bit. It means watching nieces and nephews open new toys with the magic of Christmas all over their faces. It means feeling the conviction that mankind is capable of more. It means having a great excuse to spend time with family and friends. It means partying. It means being generous. It means filling a dreary month with some light.

Christmas is spectacular, and tiring, and thrilling, and sometimes exasperating…but I wouldn’t miss it for the world!

While Jas and I were out running last week on the Jordan River trail we came across what I thought at first was a ferret but it turned out to be two little kittens playing on the side of the path. This seemed like an odd spot for kittens to be hanging out since it wasn’t near any homes so on our way back we kept a lookout for these little guys and sure enough they were still in the same place chilling in the bushes.

We realized that they must have been abandoned by some irresponsible moron so we really could only consider one course of action. We ran home and grabbed a cardboard box, some tuna fish, and flashlights. Then we literally ran back in the moonlight to where we found the kittens, which was over a mile and a half away from our house, and used the fish to lure them out of the thick bushes and river grasses. It worked; they came out when they smelled the fish but to our surprise there weren’t just two of them, there were four and a very tired and skinny looking mama.

This kitten is probably my favorite. She is mild-mannered and very fluffy.

We had been planning on catching the little guys, taking them home with us, and keeping them until we found them good homes but the presence of their mother changed our approach. We didn’t want to separate the babies from their mama but we didn’t think we could catch the mom so we fed them all and left them to their mother’s watchful care.

I named this kitten Willy. He's very playful and feisty. He also seems to enjoy aggravating his siblings.

We have made the 3 mile round trip to these cats nearly every day since then, either on foot or on our bikes, to feed them. They have become more used to us and we plan on trapping them soon so they can begin the process of finding loving homes. We have conversed with several animal rescue organizations about these furry rascals and the consensus on their origins so far is that they were probably semi-feral barn cats before they were dumped by the river and therefore have had somewhat limited human contact. This would explain why they seem relatively used to humans but still not too anxious to associate with us. The experts we have talked to also believe that it is very likely that the mama cat was abused or neglected based off her demeanor.

I call this kitten the Mama's Boy. He follows his mom around like a shadow.

Sometimes I am ashamed to be a human; it is unfortunate that intelligence and conscience do not always go hand in hand. Those poor little river cats are adorable and anyone that could discard them like yesterday’s trash, leaving them to starve or fend for themselves, obviously has the moral fiber of a cockroach. We hope that someone can offer these tiny cats caring homes and show them that not all people are unkind. We have been working with a couple of great local animal charities, Four Paws Rescue and No More Homeless Pets, to make that happen. I will update all you curious animal lovers on the outcome of our feline adventures when the situation is completely resolved.