You Will Find Me in the Library

New Year's Resolutions

2012-01-16T22:57:00.000-07:00

You know, every year I set a few New Year's Resolutions. Sometimes I complete them and sometimes I don't.

But I was thinking this year how much I love the New Year. I don't like it work-wise. This is my least favorite time at work. But I love the idea of a new year, a new start. There's something very hopeful about it, something very clean and shiny.

I remember a comment Kathleen Richardson made once in a Relief Society lesson. The lesson was on making daily scripture study a habit. Someone said that such lessons always made her feel guilty and hopeless because she would make a resolve only to break it after a short time. Kathleen said that she looked at it in a different way. Yes, she would hear the lesson. Yes, she would make the resolve. And, yes, often the resolve would be less strong after a few weeks. But Kathleen said that each time, she felt she learned a little more from the effort. Each time she got a little further in the goal. And she hoped, each time, that this would be the time that the goal would become an iron habit. And if it didn't, then perhaps the next time would. But each lesson gave her the encouragement to keep on trying.

I liked the hope in that. I think of New Year's resolutions the same way. If they are not met, push on. The growth comes in the trying not just the completion. I always tell myself that you haven't failed if you haven't quit.

Someone once said that God's grace may be most powerful when it is giving you the strength to try just one more time. I won't tell you my resolves this year, my focus. But I trust that God will give me the grace to try just one more time....until, as Kathleen believes, I will meet my goals or my Maker; whichever comes first.

Always a Starter, Rarely a Finisher?

2011-11-28T04:55:00.001-07:00

Okay, it's been forever since I've blogged. I was going to keep a time journal to see how it went. I started and then got too sick to really care. And then for the last six weeks, we've all taken turns passing around stomach bugs and now this is the second cold I've had since September.

So, now I know what I've been spending my time...these last six weeks anyway. Cough, cough...

Time: My Enemy Or Friend?

2011-10-16T21:04:00.001-06:00

I never seem to have time anymore. I've actually decided to spend a week logging my time. I want to see where it goes much as I keep up my check book so that I know where my money slips away to.

Isn't this supposed to be when life starts to slow down? Why do I have less time for reading or cleaning or planning?

So today, here it is, Sunday 9:00 p.m. I have 15 more minutes because I am trying to limit my computer time. I fear that's where a lot of it is going down the drain. So did I spend the majority of time in church? No, you might be surprised to find that I did not.

I spend 3 hours and 26 minutes making dinner. The family started arriving at 5:20 and I finished dinner clean up at 8:15.

Loved the time with the kids. Clayton and Kim are always so cute together. Clayton makes me laugh. Sarah is sweet. Perhaps that's where Jonathan gets it. A few stolen moments with Emily. I miss our Sunday nights together. Serving Sean dinner after everyone had left is always special time for me.

And playing with Pete. Looking at the world through a 2 year old's eyes is the best.

I'll keep you posted on what I learn this week.

Always, Always Puts a Smile on My Face

2011-09-11T20:46:00.001-06:00

We tried (twice) to do a family camp out this year and succeeded the second time. Best parts were talking with the kids around the camp fire late into the evening. Then a fun breakfast in the morning. Oh, and anything with Pete.

Pete acted as if it were Christmas, Easter and July 4th all rolled into one. It started when I went to his house to get some firewood. When I walked in the door, he said, "Da Da?" I said, "No, Pete." He yelled out, "Nammy, Nammy!" and jumped into my arms. He immediately wanted to fun to his room to play. I asked where the baby was and he said, "Nap," and made snoring sounds while pretending to be asleep; all while running and not breaking his stride. So cute. Finally, it was so sweet to watch him help me carry stack the wood in the van.

So camping...here's the Pete bullet points:

*Pete yelling from his car seat as soon as he saw me, "Nammy! Nammy! Open the door!!!" All while he was trying desperately to pull the handle from the inside. He wanted out of that car.

*Pete running across the meadow once he had gotten out of the car, "Nammy, Nammy!"

*Pete trying to climb up the tent poles.

*Pete trying to be a real man and help Papa put up the tent.

*Pete doing a running jump into the air mattress. Again. And Again.

*Pete laughing loudly as he fell between the air mattress and the tent. "Help me! Help me! Nammy! Ha ha ha ha ha!"

*Pete excited about going to the store for extra bratwurst. "Nammy, Nammy!" He just had to have that assortment of Tootsie Pops. Who could say no to that?

*Pete when he's ready to go. "Bye bye." Happily driving off.

Yep, couldn't stop smiling that night. And the cherry on top was being able to feed Jonathan his bottle and looking into those brilliant blue eyes. What a sweetheart.

So I plan to go to bed with a smile on my face tonight. Why? Maddie, sweet Maddie in her watermelon dress. Kinlie finally starting to warm up to me. She has a VERY sweet smile. These two little girlies hold my heart in their little hands. I love to talk to Maddie, tickle her, read to her. I love how she will spontaneously kiss me on the cheek; but refuse to do it when you request it. I loved gathering a little bag of snacks for her and Kinlie to take home tonight. I love when Kinlie will surprise me with a word or phrase when you least expect it; my shy little Kinlie. I love when she will ask for more. It will be so hard when they are gone to New Zealand. But for right now, I'm smilin' myself to sleep.

Movies On My Own

2011-08-31T22:12:00.003-06:00

I've been alone this week in my own house. Seriously, who would have thought it? And I've done lots of fun things and not a lot of what needed to be done.

I have:

Posted grandchildren pictures on the Family Facebook page
Posted recipes on the Family food blog
And watched lots and lots of movies

Did you know that movies are a favorite of mine and when I am in the house alone I watch whatever I want.

I'm glad this isn't my life all the time. But once in a while, it's kind of nice.

Ed Sullivan vs. American Idol

2011-08-13T04:49:00.007-06:00

I remember the night The Beatles sang for the first time on Ed Sullivan. I was just under 6 years old. Here I was in kindergarten and everybody was talking about it at school the next day. I mean, it seemed everybody had watched it. Back in the old days you had to catch things has they happened as there was no YouTube to play catch up.

I remember my parents voicing disgust over their long hair and asserting the lack of talent, or so stood Alex's and Wilma's opinions. What kind of lyrics are "Yeah, Yeah, Yeah" anyway? But we thought they were the best! So cool! So hip! And they would have been groovy, but that phrase hadn't been coined just yet. Shirley Hermansen snuck out her parent's old style wooden tennis rackets and we played them as guitars with our hair pulled into our faces. The game certainly beat out dolls and tea parties. Watching Ed Sullivan in February of 1964 was a life changing event even for a 5 year old.

I loved the music of the early sixties. The Beach Boys. The Mama's & the Papa's. The Supremes. Tommy James & the Shondelles. Petula Clark. The Animals. And, especially, The Beatles.

What brings this up is that I can't sleep and I'm watching a PBS special on Ed Sullivan and the music of the 60's. (Wow, is DVR great or what? And I don't even have to feel the guilt to call in a pledge because no one is there to take it!)

As I'm seeing all of these performers, I'm struck by a few thoughts.

1. Many of them had REALLY long careers.

2. The staging was sometimes pretty cheesy.

3. Some of the fashions may have been neat then but they don't hold up. Could the tall fur hat that the guitarist wore in the Mama's and Papa's performance of "Monday, Monday" really have ever been cool???

4. The music still really makes me happy.

5. It's amazing how different voices sound without all of the electronic enhancements.

6. Ed Sullivan's main talent was showcasing talent; maybe his only talent.

Watching Petula Clark sing "Downtown" reminded me of Saturday morning cleanings with KCPX blasting in the background and all of us stopping to bee bop in between chores. It's still a song that can lift my spirits. And I still like going "Downtown" except that in Salt Lake it really should be called uptown (at least from where I am at) and it's really only downtown if you are standing on Ensign Peak, right?

So as I am watching, I'm thinking about the hours and effort that talent scouts went to to find these really big talents. I thought of the work spent to get the performers ready for their minute in the spotlight. It was entertainment at its best.

So how does American Idol compare? Well, I have just a few questions.

1. When did it switch that the audience had to do the scouting for talent?

2. Why are the masses satisfied with substandard, half-baked performances?

3. When did mediocrity start passing for entertainment? Not many of these singers go on to really make a name for themselves.

4. Do we just have no value for memorable performances anymore?

5. Is instant more important than well-planned?

6. Is it just because Americans like competition more than art?

To be fair, I've never watched an episode of American Idol. So I might be the only American who shouldn't judge. Frankly, it never appealed to me. I thought I didn't like to sit for hours and watch people sing. But here I am at 4:00 a.m. watching people sing, so I guess I just don't like watching wannabees sing.

I know there are millions of Idol followers out there that would gladly shout me down. Obviously...the show keeps going on and on and on. But, you know. I think I'm in the Ed Sullivan Camp. Maybe I'm too lazy to weed out the so-so talent myself. Maybe I am just stuck in a time warp.

Check out some of the YouTube videos and decide for yourself....and text your votes if you can find a place to text them to!

Boys Will Be Boys

2011-08-10T20:49:00.002-06:00

Pete is all boy. That is indisputable.

As I baby sat him and Jonathan yesterday, we played while Jonathan slept. Pete has a little plastic breastplate, sword, and shield. He also has a little cardboard knife. I put on the breastplate, he hefted the sword and shield, handed me the cardboard knife and we proceeded to start fencing. He has a perfect stance and knows just how to wield that sword while holding the shield steady. Kind of amazing for a 2 1/2 year old little boy. In the heat of the duel, I dropped my knife. I prepared to meet my demise. Pete, keeping the perfect stance and not dropping his shield even a little, leaned down and used his sword to lift up the knife to hand it back to me so we could continue the duel.

I just don't know where he gets it!

Later as I was leaving, he yelled out, "Nammy! Nammy! The moon! The moon!" You know, I think we were all better off when simple things like seeing the moon for the first time each evening was exciting enough to shout about it.

And once again, I was rejuvenated after a very long work day.

The Goodness of People

2011-08-07T20:58:00.004-06:00

I attended a funeral yesterday for an articulate and powerful woman. She had been faithful all of her 78 years. It was a lovely funeral.

During the funeral, another sweet, elderly sister slid out of her chair and to the floor. It was so quiet that only a few around her were aware of her distress. I was a few rows away, but the people around were were immediately at her side. A doctor arose from a few rows back and a nurse moved over from three seats away. Other people were quick to get her towels, loan her a sweater for a makeshift pillow, and stroke her arm soothingly until the medics could come.

I was struck with the goodness of people. I hear about inner cities where people fear getting involved. It makes me sad for it is the opposite of what I witness almost every day.

There are a lot of people who really do realize that we are all brothers and sisters and that this is a rough road to travel alone. Helping each other along the way only seems right.

Career...or a Job

2011-07-20T21:30:00.004-06:00

You know, some times I really wish I didn't have to work for a living. So here's to the fantasy...if I didn't have to work, tomorrow I would...

1. Walk with Karrie

2. Read that book that I have to take back to the library half finished because I never seemed to have the time to read it.

3. Sew an outfit for Maddie or Kinlie just because I can.

4. Make a dinner that takes 3 hours.

5. Clean up the back yard.

6. Sleep until 7:00 a.m.

7. Not have to get my butt chewed off.

Oh, well.

Fellowship

2011-07-04T20:59:00.002-06:00

One of the great blessings of belonging to a ward or any church congregation is the fellowship of others who share your faith.

This morning we had a breakfast to commemorate Independence Day. Church members began cooking at 6:00 to be able to serve at 8:30. We sang patriotic songs, heard a veteran speak, and people wore red, white, or blue. The tables had little firework type centerpieces. We had good pancakes, orange juice, sausage, hash browns and eggs. And, of course, someone forgot the ketchup. (Which I don't like on eggs anyway!)

But I love the feeling of gathering. I sat by Elsie. I've seen her and she knows me as her Sunday School teacher. But as we visited, I found out that she had been a little girl in Germany during WWII. Her father was mistakenly killed after the war was over by someone who hadn't gotten word of the ceasefire. Her mother was left to raise four children alone. Elsie told me of having moved from Hamburg to East Germany before they finally made their way to the States. Elsie said that boat trip was the only cruise she has ever been on.

It turns out that her husband of over 50 years owned Snappy's restaurant in downtown Salt Lake and served President Monson for years when he came in for his lunch. Elsie makes President Monson an apple cake every year for Christmas and every year she receives a personal thank you note. She's saved every one of them.

It was so wonderful to get to know them better.

After the breakfast, everyone chips in and helps clean up. What could take hours is done in short shift with so many hands making light of the work. Women clear tables and men fold them and put them away. It's the most amazing thing to see.

These are experiences I never had in my youth since we never belonged to a congregation. But when I experience them now, I always think one word: Fellowship. Love it.

The Age of Machines

2011-06-12T21:05:00.004-06:00

I drive a 1996 Nissan Light Green Mini Van. I bought it in 1999, the year that Clayton went on his mission. It had 45,000 miles on it. In the ensuing years, I've driven and driven and driven. I reached this milestone on Saturday on 4800 South, one of the roads that I've driven on the most. I was traveling from the post office on State Street to Walgreens on 4500 & Redwood.

Maybe it sounds funny, but I'm grateful to my van. I know it's an inanimate object with no spirit or soul. But it works hard and I work it hard. She has served me very well for a long, long time. She has carried my family on vacations, church youth to activities, moved countless boxes for lots of people, carried countless loads to the DI, gone on grocery runs and made countless treks down Redwood Road to my job.

We live in the age of machines large and small where we have computers, refrigerators, televisions, electric razors, and air conditioners. But there's something a little more personal about a vehicle. I always feel a little funny driving someone else's car and a little funny loaning out my own. And it always takes a while to get used to a new car...different controls, steering wheel....even the seat feels different.

I think I may have mentioned before how very much I love driving. My mom taught me when I was 15 years old. I couldn't wait to learn how to drive. I love the freedom it gives me to go and do. I love the avenues and boulevards that it opens up.

There is something so wonderful about being able to cover such vast distances in short time. I often think of Pioneers that walked and walked and walked. I can be at a Target on Redwood Road (1700 West) and 7200 South, decide I want to see the selection and be out to Fort Union (1300 East) in a matter of minutes. How many people who have ever lived on this earth could do that?

I've owned a lot of vehicles, but this van in particular has served me well. I hope there is a lot of life in her yet. I need her to run a little longer. But whenever it comes, when our time together is over, and I'm driving a newer, more reliable vehicle, I will be a little sad....even though that's a little weird.

Happy Place

2011-05-22T19:19:00.006-06:00

We had the chance to go to the zoo with the Utah babies this Saturday. We just had to say good-bye to the Texas babies and the Ohio baby is coming in 3 weeks.

But Saturday was a very fun, very exhausting day.

Two Graduations in One Week

2011-05-10T22:51:00.004-06:00

Saturday my son, Sean, graduated from Utah State University. He's so unique that I could pick him out across the crowded arena from all the other graduates due to his body language and walk. Clayton and Kim accompanied me on the long drive to Logan. Clayton had the brilliant idea to play a guessing game to see which one of us could come closest to what Sean was thinking during the ceremonies. Clayton guessed that he was thinking, "I wonder where we'll go to lunch after this is done." (Texas Roadhouse...steak was yummy!) Kim guessed that Sean was thinking, "This is such a momentous day for me." I won when Sean confirmed that his thoughts matched my guess word for word, "I'm so mad at Mom for making me do this (participate in walking)." Ha ha!

Seriously had a moment where I couldn't believe that this was my little boy graduating. Could this really be that same sweet, chubby-cheeked little boy who wouldn't let go of my leg the first day of kindergarten? Where do the years go? I can tell you that he has brought me joy every day of his life and never given me a moment of worry that he would choose anything that would make me less than proud.

The second graduation was of a different sort. My sons had a co-worker who died in a tragic work-related accident. The bitter irony was that he was two weeks short of retirement. We had all known him for 28 years. Tau was the most cheerful and meekest of men. He was the epitome of child like; just as the Savior admonished us to be.

The majority of the funeral mass was in Tongan and we understood only the little bit that was spoken in English by the priest for our benefit. The congregation and family were so sensitive to our ignorance of their customs and so welcoming. The music by the choir was one of the most amazing sounds I have ever heard; beautiful and clear voices raised the roof of the little chapel, wafting between sad and joyous strains.

It was the perfect graduation ceremony for a man who had lived life to the fullest. The priest said, "Tau was a man of love and hard work." Would that such a tribute be given to each of us at our own graduation.

Gratitude

2011-04-27T05:19:00.002-06:00

Today I am thankful for prayer. I'm thankful that there is something that we can do when we can do nothing else. I'm thankful to know that prayers are heard. I'm thankful to know that prayers are answered.

I am thankful to know that we are not alone in this harsh, messy, beautiful world.

Praying today for Grant, Nephi, Clayton, The Angilau family, and Niel.

My heart hurts for all of you.

Quiet Times, Noisy Times

2011-04-25T19:54:00.002-06:00

I had the opportunity to babysit Jonathan this afternoon while Pete went to the allergist. Is there anything more sweet than to hold a sleeping baby to your chest? I love looking down and seeing Jonathan's little fist clenched and to hear his quiet breathing. From above, his most prominent features are two sweet, chubby little cheeks topped with two soft fringes of eye lashes. I love hearing his soft breathing punctuated by periodic long deep sighs. It doesn't get much better than that!

And then there's Pete, with only a few minutes we played hard and we played fast. He absolutely loves to sing Happy Birthday and all cakes are "Happy." Playing in his room today, he had a single birthday candle. Who knows where he got it? But he wanted to put it in my mouth. I blew as hard as I could shooting it three feet across the room. Peter laughed and laughed!!! Then we had to get cookie monster to eat play donuts and rolls only to have them spill out of his mouth. Peter laughed and laughed again.

When I spoke to him on the phone later on he said, "Love you, Nammy."

Quiet times, noisy times, good times.

Goin' Right Far

2011-04-21T22:31:00.004-06:00

When I was a young girl, my family gathered together to watch a movie called "Spencer's Mountain." It was the story of a backwoods family with many children. The mother's dream was to send her children to college. The belief was that an education was the key to a better life. The parents sacrifice their dreams for their oldest son to go to college trusting that the others will follow. The family gathers together to see Clay Boy board the bus to travel miles away to conquer state college. He moves to the last seat on the bus and a stranger asks him, "Goin' far, son?" The boy answers, with tears in his eyes from the separation from his family, "Right far."

That ending always brings tears to my own eyes.

That idea that an education could help you get far in life always stayed with me. I know that college isn't for everybody and that many people make a lot of money and a great contribution to society without higher education. But there are doors that a degree opens and doors that remain shut without one.

But more important to me has always been the value of learning and I have enormous respect for those who work and sacrifice to gain an education.

My dad worked as a diesel mechanic after joining the Navy at seventeen. My mom said that she attended a few classes at a community college after high school. I was the first among my sisters to earn a high school degree as my two elder sisters dropped out, later earning their high school equivalent. I attended BYU for two months after my own high school graduation and then dropped out, not even having completed one semester of college. I have always regretted it.

I earned an Associate of Science in accounting from LDS Business College after my divorce. It was one of the most challenging tasks I have accomplished. That degree has opened many doors for this single mom.

Well, today Emily graduated from BYU. In a couple of weeks, Sean will graduate from USU. They follow Sarah, Clayton, and Laurie. Nephi attended BYU Salt Lake. Shandie attended SLCC and Kim also has a bachelor's. Laurie has a Masters; Sarah's husband, Jeremiah is working on his Masters; and Laurie's husband, Clint, is a doctor. We've come right far.

As I stood in the Marriott Center watching the graduates come in, I was filled with emotion. I thought of the sacrifices that my children and their spouses have made for their educations. It has been hard work; stressful and exhausting. One or more of my children have been taking college courses since 1997 when Sarah first entered BYU. Sometimes it seemed like our family would forever be stuck in a state of suspended college attendance animation. As I stood there, two weeks before the tail end, I felt pleased with all of their accomplishments and I respect them for their hard work.

I especially love seeing commencement at BYU. There are so many young families posing for pictures. Graduates, young moms and dads, in blue robes for bachelors and black for doctorates holding babies or toddler's hands while standing in front of the Cougar by the stadium or outside of the sign that says, "Enter to Learn, Go Forth to Serve." I can't imagine the hard work or the sacrifice for them to attend school while raising families.

But still, I always believe deep in my heart that it's all worth it because now they have the keys to "go right far."

Thanks to my children. You always and forever bring honor to me.

A Few of My Favorite Things

2011-04-15T06:17:00.003-06:00

1. Daily pictures of Thomas sent over the cell phone and hearing him coo while I talk to his mom on the phone.
2. Jonathan's soft coos amidst the noise of the family before he falls alseep on my shoulder.
3. Videos of Kinlie whether it's blowing kisses or walking with her favorite bag.
4. Skyping with Maddie and reading her one of her favorite books; especially the time she turned to Shandie and said, "Take me to Grammy Joey's house!"
5. Pete reaching out for me and crying, "Nammy, Nammy, Nammy!!!" as if his life depended upon it when it's time to go home.

The Circle of Life....or whatever that's called.

2011-03-25T12:22:00.002-06:00

Sweet moment this morning. I heard Laurie singing to Thomas (and yes, she'll be mad I told you that she sings to him, but I don't care because I'm leaving tomorrow). She was singing hello to Thomas. But it was the w-a-y she sang it that make me happy.

She sang it to the tune of "Good Morning, Good Morning" from the movie Singing in the Rain. That will make some of my kids giggle and some groan. But this was a song that I sang many a mornin' to get me little lads and lassies out of bed.

Now how cool is it that Laurie uses that tune to sing to her little wee bairn? See, the circle goes on and on. Thomas may sing it to his kids and he'll never know that Grammy Joey started it all.

Yes! She scores!

Meeting Family

2011-03-21T19:32:00.003-06:00

During the last month I've met two new family members. It's an odd experience meeting someone who you already know will have a profound influence on your life.

Over a year ago, I met Kim, my new daughter-in-law. But I didn't know when I met her she would be my newest daughter.

But on February 23rd, I met Jonathan Jeremiah Washburn. And last Saturday, I got to meet Thomas Reddick Allred.

Thomas is so sweet. He has the most adorable little snore. He sounds like he is a little buzz saw cutting through toothpicks (as stated in Raising Arizona). He is quite an alert little guy and very, very serious. He constantly is raising one eye-brow as he considers the world's problems and knits his little eye-brows when he isn't sure of the solutions. He is an incredibly handsome little boy. He looks a lot like Laurie, with lots of light hair and blue eyes.

Jonathan is super sweet, also. The poor little guy has been sick and worried us all; but he's borne it with patience. He's started to turn the corner and I've been missing him while I'm here in Ohio. He is quite tender and spends a lot of time resting up....probably preparing for the day when he has to be a match with Pete. Jonathan also has a healthy head of hair and appears that he might end up with brown eyes like his bro; but it's too early to tell just yet. He's very cuddly and just so much fun to have around.

I'm excited to get to know these boys better for them to get to know each other. Their moms were always great friends, too!

Man Against Nature

2011-03-14T22:17:00.002-06:00

Every Spring I ask myself the same question: Who was the evil mastermind who came up with the idea of Daylight Savings Time?

I really, really don't like Spring Forward. Love Fall Back, but always in the back of my mind is the sober thought that Spring will steal back from me the hour given so freely in November. I just don't get it. What is it that we gain again? Farm workers getting an extra hour in the field? An extra hour to shop in stores? Seriously don't remember.

I only know that for two weeks, I make mental calculations. "I don't really need to go to bed yet because it's really 10:30 pm, not 11:30 pm." "I can't make dinner yet because it's really only 4:30 pm." "I can't get up yet. I know the alarm says 6:00 am, but it's really 5:00 am." The exhaustion of doing the math adds to the sleep deprivation and the result is one cranky sourpuss.

I really think it's some kind of mad plot to overthrow the sane world, but I can't get anyone to admit it.

I guess I'd better go to bed even though it's really only 9:30 pm. 6:00, er 5:00 comes pretty early in the morning.

Spending Time With a New Big Brother

2011-03-01T17:44:00.003-07:00

I had the opportunity, the priceless privilege, of spending time with Maddie last year as she became a big sister. This year I had that same gift of being there with Pete as his little world was rocked. The day that both their little brother and sister were born, the older toddlers were a little subdued. Was it having mom gone and only Grammy Joey there for such a longer time than normal? Perhaps. But I wonder if it isn't some divine preparation for the role to come, a mantle of the responsibility of being an example drifting upon tiny shoulders. At the very least, they must be sensing that something big is happening; something much bigger and beyond the norm.

However, there is something so incredibly sweet in spending time with a toddler in their own home with no mom in sight. They become reliant upon you for their meals, diaper changes, naps and cuddles. And you get to know them in a way that you don't when they are at "Grammy Joey's." I think it's being on their own turf that does it. At Grammy Joey's, it's a mad pace to fit in all of the regular fun (playing in the van, shooting a few baskets, getting some books read...the list is different for Maddie and for Pete).

Well, I will say that the time was choice. Poor Pete has had a lot to contend with the past few weeks. First came the tension that inevitably attends the ticking time bomb of a due date getting closer and closer. Second, the sad fall off of the swing. While it is true, that it could have been much worse and a week long splint followed by a three week long cast isn't too bad, really; I'm not sure you could convince any active two-year-old of that. I wish I could understand what is going through his head. Right in the middle of having fun, he falls and experiences pain and; before you know it, he can't do half of the things he wants to do. Wassup???

Well, the morning came to put the cast on. Poor Sarah was having contractions 20 minutes apart the entire time that they were putting Pete's leg in a cast. She went home and I went to work to finish up a couple of things. I got them done and rushed over to Sarah's house. She was more than ready to go to the hospital; and thus began my time alone with Sweet Pete.

He is so doggone cute, I'll tell you. Too many cute memories to share them all, but I will always remember building huts with the couch cushions and Pete motioning me to "Come on, come on!" There was no convincing him that we couldn't both fit under one tiny couch cushion.

I also loved watching Elmo in Grouchland with him. He was so concerned when it looked like his hero, Elmo, had lost his best friend blanket forever. When they were reunited at the end, Pete clapped loudly and said, "Yay! Yay!" (Note: we made sure beforehand that I could work the remote. Imperative!)

We played basketball with him standing in the crib, race cars sitting on the pool table (him, not me), trains sitting on the floor, read books, and cuddled. And I learned again what I already knew, Pete is really, really sweet. Oh, and he has a very good set up shot.

Thank you, Sarah. What a wonderful gift!

Rollar Coaster

2011-02-20T07:47:00.004-07:00

So are there any of you for which life is a Merry-Go-Round? Same thing day after day, year after year?

That has never been my life. Never. Mine is a rollar coaster; up, down, around the curve, up the hill. Keep your hands and arms inside the ride at all times.

This week, Pete broke his leg and Laurie had her baby. And that's not even recounting the more personal and private jogs.

It's enough to give a person whiplash. Really.

Oh, and I got to see Ken Jennings beaten in Jeopardy! by a computer. Who would have ever thought I'd live this long?

By the way, that baby, Thomas Reddick Allred, is beyond adorable and Pete is holding up as best as can be expected for an eagle with it's wings clipped.

What to say....what to say...

2011-02-02T04:05:00.002-07:00

It's cold outside. It's been a long, hard winter and today is Groundhog Day. Will he see his shadow? And if he does, who in the Sam Hill remembers if that means more winter or not?

I don't remember a time when I've been surrounded by so many who are so distraught, discouraged, or discombobulated. What to do....what to do...

1. Remember that we are all in this together.
2. Realize that the person next to you is your brother.
3. Reach out and lift whenever possible.
4. Try to find something to laugh about. Because life is seriously funny.

And the sun will come out tomorrow, somewhere over the rainbow, and just around the riverbend, good times are a comin'. Sure nuff! Oh, and this, too, shall pass!

Magic Moments

2011-01-13T08:14:00.000-07:00

Okay, best moment last night....dancing Maddie, Pete, and me....just the three of us.

Music to my ears....hearing Maddie say at least twice, "Take me to Grammy Joey's house."

Sweet. Sweet. Sweet.

Musings

2011-01-11T00:47:00.002-07:00

Interesting all of the words with the core "muse" in them. Musings, muse, amuse, bemuse. They all mean such different things.

So it is 12:48 p.m. during year end and I can't sleep. So a list is a good way to empty some of my brain.

1. Saturday and Sunday were so fun with the house full of little people. Who ever knew it would be so joyful to get grandkids together? I wonder if my in-laws felt the same way when theirs numbered into the 40's instead of the single digits. Now that there are more than 99, that can't possibly be fun.

2. Isn't it strange that you can be lonely when you're not alone and not lonely when you are alone? And don't you wish loneliness were something you could swat away?

3. Don't you think car problems are the pits? I won't even give the bad news about Sean's. As for me, $100 to fix the fact that I put power steering fluid in the brake line. Now I need to watch it from here on out...not a good thing for a recovering leadfoot. And why do mechanics use phrases like "slushy?" What do "slushy" brakes feel like anyway? I might find out soon enough.

4. Does every profession have a season that they just dread? Or maybe a time of day or week? For example do deli people hate the lunch rush and theater workers hate Saturday night?

5. I drove past an injury accident today. Also, I was thinking about those poor people in Arizona. I heard the mother of a victim in the Trolley Square shootings talking about his recovery and how hard it continues to be. These bodies are so amazing. They can do so many things. Yet by design they wear out. But they can heal from the most horrific things. And then sometimes they don't. They really can be too, too hurt. One of the bystanders in the shootings in AZ said that the gunman was picking people off and he was close to her and all she could think was, "I wonder how much it will hurt when he shoots me." Sad. Sad.

6. In continuation of 5...and yet, we take so many chances with these vehicles for our spirits. I shudder to think of some of the dare devil things I put mine through and not all in my youth. Stupid things like reaching too high when I should go get a ladder. Don't even get me started on jumping the railroad tracks in SF's car in high school.

7. I wish I knew how many times in my life I've slipped on the ice. Isn't 52 years old too old for skinned knees?

8. If we can have life lists, I want to know how much time I've spent in doctor's waiting rooms reading High Lights Magazine. Who ever came up with the names "Goofus and Galant?" And do you remember those Bible Stories books that used to be there when we were kids? Hmmmm....they are not there now. Victims of a secular society no less.

9. And, yes, Laurie, if I do a blog this late at night it tends to be a little bit of a downer.

10. And I've had the weirdest headache for the past few hours. It feels as if someone is hammering nails into my head. Maybe it will drain out some of this yuck!

Thanks for the outlet!

New Year!

2011-01-01T08:20:00.002-07:00

Okay, closing the book on the holidays; fraught with emotion as they were. But as I have learned, the joy is in the moments. So to list just a few of my favorites:

1. Being able to read my family's and friends' blogs to see all of the cute Christmas pictures and laughing at the image of Clint putting another log on the fire. Makes me chuckle every time I think of it.

2. Having a best friend who will listen to me no matter how screwy I get. Not to mention my daughters who continually worry about me making it through the holidays in one piece.

3. Skyping with the MadKin and seeing Maddie's eyes so wide and filled with wonder as she told me about Santa eating the cookies. They are both so sweet!

4. A special New Years moment with Emily and Sean and being able to tell them how very much they mean to me.

5. Pete asking for "more" to finish his cookies and milk party in the cardboard playhouse with Emily by saying, "Mmm, mmm, mmm" and smacking his lips.

6. Clayton making everyone laugh as we sat around the table, as he does so well.

7. A wonderful sister visit with the one who lives 15 minutes away.

So very much for which to be thankful. I know I missed recording other minutes here in the blog, but they are forever recorded in my heart. And here's to 2011.

Tradition!

2010-12-27T02:24:00.003-07:00

In the play "Fiddler on the Roof" Tevya, the main character, sings a wonderful song about traditions and ends with "Because of our traditions every one of us knows who he is and what God expects him to do....Traditions, traditions. Without our traditions, our lives would be as shaky as... as... as a fiddler on the roof!"

For many years, really unnaturally so, my little family remained intact and our holiday traditions were an anchor. They were as dependable as the sun coming up in the East. We knew what Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years would bring because it was all in my control.

That was before the first earthquake hit with marriage #1, then marriage #2, #3, followed by #4, #5. And there are still a few more to come. With each marriage, new schedules had to be considered and traditions and expectations from the past jettisoned to make way for others expectations to be met and other traditions to be honored. I have scrambled, trying to batten down hatches, bailing water out the back while a wave of tsunami's rocked my boat from the front.

Perhaps the reason for my "Grinchy" attitude this holiday season is that there is so little left of my little family's traditions that I no longer recognize the new events around me as "holiday." It hasn't felt like Christmas because there has been nothing that I could count on to "feel" like Christmas.

So it is with great happiness and satisfaction that I can recount that "Tradition!" lives on in my children. Each of my married children gave me a gift without even knowing it.

Sarah mentioned that she bought a stuffed animal (a bee pillow pet) to leave on Pete's pillow the morning of Christmas Eve. She didn't even know why that tradition had started in our family, but is carrying it on because she loved the magic of that one new toy to keep her busy the day before Christmas when the plethora came.

Clayton called me to ask the addresses of the homes we'd driven past to see Christmas lights. Turns out that Kim and he plan to keep that tradition alive, as well as new pajamas on Christmas Eve.

Laurie told me that she and Clint had some of Grandma Salazar's crab dip and Grandpa Mackay's South Cottonwood Carrots because that taste of home when she's so far away out in Ohio made it seem like the holidays to her. She splurged on a resident's salary to bring traditions into her home that even went back further than me. (For further information see: http://familyfoodiefun.blogspot.com/ )

Maddie told me with wonder in her eyes that Santa had come and eaten the cookies she and her family put out on Christmas Eve.

As I write this, it brings tears to my eyes. Perhaps my efforts all of those years were not wasted. Even though I have had to see the death of my traditions and Christmas didn't feel like Christmas to me, those traditions live on in my children. If they continue to bring them and their families happiness, then my work has been well done after all. Perhaps the anchors have just moved to hold down other ships.

Thank you Sarah, Clayton, Laurie and Nephi for giving me this gift. Now if I can only find ways to keep something around of the past for Sean and Emily, I will have succeeded after all.

Call Me Ebenezer

2010-12-10T03:41:00.002-07:00

I have a co-worker who is a Jehovah's Witness. We were talking about the holidays and his decision to not celebrate because of his faith. He said that he always feels a little relieved that he's not caught up in this hustle and bustle of December that most of the rest of us go through.

Well, when my children were young, I loved Christmas. It was such a diversion to take time out of the drugery of diapers to plan, shop, bake and; yes, even, wrap. I loved family parties and doing the 12 days of Christmas to needy families and the whole show.

But I'm older now. Am I tired? Perhaps. Maybe I've just cooked one too many turkeys. Perhaps it's just that I don't have time for diversions. Then too, somewhere along the line, the diversions turned into have-to's.

Bottom line; I'm not feelin' the holidays much this year. To me December just means extra work and then the lead in to year-end with it's tax preparation, W2's, and updates, updates, updates to our computer software at work.

Blah, blah, blah.

So to keep it short. I will ONLY list 3 things that are irking me this season.

1. Junk e-mails. What the what??? Just because I sent a gift basket with your english muffins once two years ago to my sister in NC does not mean that I will succumb to the 30 e-mails you have sent me in the last 15 days. Do you hear that Wolferman's? And don't even get me started on JC Penney. Delete. Delete. Delete.

2. Crowds. Never liked them. Never will. And how can Toys R Us possibly be this busy on a Wednesday afternoon at 3:00 p.m.? I deliberately took a late lunch because I thought it would be a ghost town if I waited. Was I ever wrong.

3. Turkey. Yeah, I loved it as a kid, liked it as a young mother. Not so much now. Can there be a meal that takes more crazy kitchen antics? Mashing the potatoes while you're stirring the gravy while you're checking the rolls and don't forget the stuffing all while the turkey sits majestically lording over all laughing inside while watching my kitchen gymnastics. Is there a crockpot large enough for a big bird that I could throw the gravy mix in and have it done?

Now that you've listened to that rant, I will share what is still and probably forever will be one of my favorite parts of Christmas.

The lights.

Ah, yes. From the time when I was small and we would drive around as a family, I've loved to look at the lights. There was a man on the old Murray-Holladay road that would run his hose over some giant bushes and paint the resulting ice with food color and then light it up with floodlights. How we loved to drive by it every year to oh and ah. Good times.

The lights still give me a warm little feeling in my cold heart. And when January comes and the Christmas lights are turned off, the whole world seems more than a little dark to me. Something like what our lives are like without the Savior's presence. And then, I remember the reason for it all.

Ah, yes. The Light of the World.

Nothin' To Say?

2010-12-07T04:59:00.003-07:00

It's five in the morning. I can't get into my bedroom to do all kinds of stuff that I could do up there if I had access because my husband is snoring away. Emily is home and on European time and my time clock is keeping her company.

I really have nothing to say except that I felt it was time for a different blog to replace the last one.

So the muse sleeps, but I do not.

Literature

2010-11-24T03:16:00.002-07:00

Have you read more than 6 of these books? The BBC believes most people will have read only 6 of the 100 books listed here.

Instructions: Copy this list. Bold those books you've read in their entirety, italicize the ones you started but didn't finish or read an excerpt.

1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6 The Bible
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveler’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
34 Emma -Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe - CS Lewis
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh - A.A. Milne
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Inferno - Dante
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte’s Web - E.B. White
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo

Flow Gently, Sweet Afton

2010-11-15T20:51:00.002-07:00

A sweet friend, Afton, died a short while ago. Hers was one of the happiest funerals that I had ever attended. She was 96 years old and alert enough to wake up from the throws of death to ask who was playing on Monday Night Football before she passed away Tuesday morning.

One of the things I love about attending a church is the fellowship found there. I love that I can become friends with people that I might not otherwise meet in the realm of work, family, and neighborhood. Afton was one of those people. I'll wager that our paths would never have crossed otherwise.

Afton was really more saucy than sweet being a strong personality who spoke her mind. But one of the things I love about funerals is that I always learn. I learn new things about the departed one's life and it's a time for introspection to determine if I am on the path I want to be.

Afton had pioneer spirit. Her son told how the family moved to Texas when she and Grant had 3 children so that Grant could attend veterinary school. They lived in a 2bedroom, 800 sf house, and rented out the other bedroom to 3 college students. Afton cooked and cleaned for the whole crew. During that time, she had baby number 4! Imagine 6 people in one room and 3 college students in the other. Now that's bravery!

Afton was also generous. While in the Golden Living Retirement Village, she would tell her daughter-in-law, "My TV is broken. I need a new one." They would bring in the new and she would tell them "Wheel that old one down the hall. Jim's TV is on the fritz." Or "My walker is broken. I need a new one." The old one would go to Ellen in the next room. What a way to outfit her bunk mates!

But my favorite story was told by a family friend. He looks to be in his late 50's or early 60's now. He told how he had grown up very poor in a mining town in the west desert. His family wanted a better life for him and sent him at the age of 15 to attend high school in Salt Lake where he met Afton's son, Wayne. They were good friends all through high school and after. This young man attended two years of college but the financial strain was more than he could handle. He was ready to quit and consign himself to a life driving a truck when Afton called him and said, "Wayne is on his mission and will be gone for two years. Come and live in his room." The man said that offer of free room and board for two years enabled him to continue his education and forever changed his life.

He said that as an engineering major he took classes in Applied Science and Applied Math, but to him the Boam family always lived Applied Religion. Great phrase, "Applied Religion."

What a lesson! I want to be a student in Applied Religion and when the class is done I hope I get a big, fat A!

Thank you, Afton. Adieu!

Just Kvetching, Thank You

2010-11-10T12:12:00.002-07:00

Every once in a while, don't you hear a word that you really just want to work into your vocabulary? I read once that we know many more words than we use. I wish I didn't so easily get into a lexicon rut.

Dictionary.com sent me a great word the other day. Kvetch\Kvech: To complain habitually. Used as a noun it means a habitual complainer or a complaint. What a handy word that can be used in three ways.

I have a kvetch about today's lunch menu.
I just have to kvetch about that new cook and her menu.
She's such a kvetch. Can't she just shut up about the new lunch menu?

Why, oh why, has this word eluded me for so many years? I mean, it's a perfect word. So I'm kvetching about just now learning about kvetch.

Yep! Stress Is At It Again

2010-11-06T04:29:00.003-06:00

I would never have chosen to work outside of the home. Life handed me that challenge. And we have stress in our workplace right now. So what happens when I am stressed? Here's the signposts for me personally so that I know, in case I missed it, that I am under a lot of stress.

1. Loss of sleep. Oh, I hate that. I love to sleep. I mean I wish I could get by with 4 hours a night so I could get a lot done, but when I'm snoozing I want to stay snoozing not wake up because some dumb worries work their way into my slumbering brain.

2. Eating, lots and junk. Enough said.

3. Hair falling out. Well, that's when it gets really bad. Luckily I had a lot to begin with.

4. The weird neck thing where it tightens up and you can't turn your head to check your blind spot. Yeah, that's not too cool.

I suppose it could be worse. When I was young, I bit my nails. Glad that habit is left in the dust.

And now that I'm older and wiser, I know that this, too, shall pass.

Have a nice night everyone, er morning!

My Girls

2010-10-27T05:29:00.002-06:00

Did I mention that I have two of the most beautiful little granddaughters who have ever toddled the earth? Unfortunately, they live in the great state of Texas. Yep, Houston has two yellow roses that by rights belong in the desert of Utah. I hope it won't be forever and that at some point they can be transplanted back home where they belong.

But until then, I am most grateful for the wonders of technology. Shandie, my daughter-in-law, brightens many a bland workday by sending me a picture via her cell phone. Now how about that? I get a neat little fairy wand sound on this little flat rectangle sitting on my desk or buried in my purse and open it up to find Maddie or Kinlie smiling up at me with bright blue eyes. I then forward it to my e-mail, where I forward it on clogging my other children's e-mail boxes with as many pictures as I can. No waiting for months while Shandie has to take a picture with some sub-standard little box with Kodak on the front, only to wait two months to get the film developed, and three more months to drop it in the mail.

Yep, I get to see my girls grow through the wonders of 21st century gadgets and gizmos galore! I can see Kinlie crawling from far, far away.

And then there's SKYPE. Whoa, would I like to thank the kind soul that developed that one! Often we SKYPE on Sundays, so the girls still get their visits to Grammy. It's not perfect. We all sit in front of our computers, moving our heads around, trying to see each other. But I happened upon one way to make it fun. I read to my girls. Maddie and Kinlie love to be read to. So from across many states, they can hear their Grammy read book after book after book. Madison is so cute and tries to get closer and closer to the computer to see the pictures so that sometimes I only end up seeing the part in her hair bobbing up and down. McKinlie sits on her dad's lap with her big blue eyes barely blinking.

Maddie has a bottomless appetite for books. I will finish one for her to only hear her say, "More." Just one word, "More" spoken in a sweet Maddie voice. By the time an hour is done, Nephi is in a near comatose state from having had to watch her to keep her from falling off their desk and my voice is hoarse. But it does my heart good to hear her say, "More."

Next up, when my pc dies, is a Mac something or other that Sean has already sold me on by saying that it would be easier to chat with Maddie and Kinlie.

So glad to live in the 21st century. Gotta love those technology geeks who gave me gifts. And thank Heaven for little girls!

Pete, The Explorer

2010-10-16T06:31:00.003-06:00

"Behold your little ones, and see within them the wonders of God, from whose presence they have recently come." Gordon B. Hinckley

I love this quote because that is exactly what I feel whenever I look at my grandchildren. There are wonderfully entertaining, exciting, fascinating creations of God. I never, never tired of observing them. I stand in awe.

Maddie & Kinlie are so far away and so I don't get to experience the growth up close. I miss them more than I can say and love them more than they can know. But with Pete, it's different. I get to see him unfold and I get to see it up close. So let me tell you a little about Pete.

Pete is never content to just sit if there is something within his sight that he has not explored and explored thoroughly. My house is small and; therefore, he's seen every inch of it with the exception of Emily's room. Some areas he passes with barely a glance, knowing that there is nothing in such and such a room that is worthy of his interest. Other rooms he'll stay in, but nowhere does he stay for long because there's always another hill to climb. His favorite thing is to explore the outdoors and he's making friends among the neighbors as we inch further and further along the street.

Well, each time he learns how to do something new, he claims another little piece of my heart. He's learning to talk, just words not real sentences yet, and what a sweet sound it is. But this week, he's learned something new that just melted my heart into a little puddle. We were sitting at the table (where he refused to stay in his booster seat because it is too confining for such an explorer as Pete). He climbed down, came over to me, and took my hand to pull me to the key rack. For a long time, his favorite place to explore was my minivan. I fear that it's becoming a little old now that he knows how to turn on the windshield wipers and radio. But he pointed and said, "Key. Key." Well, how is a grandma to say no to that? Whether we were in the middle of dinner or not was a mute point.

That was cute enough, but later in the evening when he again pulled my hand to take me up to the kitchen table to play with Emily's old Halloween Happy Meal toys, my heart was cemented as Pete's Personal Putty. Jeremiah said, "Lately we've learned he has his own agenda and he'll want you to follow it." Uh, no problem, Pete. Your agenda is my agenda.

Do You Ever Wish You Could Go Back?

2010-10-10T20:52:00.003-06:00

Perhaps it's a result of living so long. Perhaps it's straddling two centuries and many, many decades. But I have seen a lot of changes.

I've seen changes in the landscape. It matters not that I've lived in the same county for over 51 years, I've still seen a lot of changes in the landscape. I've seen busy roads turned into dead ends and new roads stretching out what were dead ends.

I've seen changes in morals and manners and mores. It would take a book to address those!

I've seen changes in fashions; skirt lengths long and short and everything in between. I've seen the end of skirts in many instances and what should never really pass for skirts in others.

But one of the changes I have been thinking a lot about lately are gadgets, gizmos, and machines. If I tried to tell my children about how excited my parents were to get a console television, I would get blank stares in return. Could they really understand the excitement of extensively shopping for and bringing home a huge, mahagony wood, casket shaped, hulking, heavy cabinet filled with a relatively small screen and side speakers with red fabric behind the cabinet cutouts? Zenith, RCA, or Motorola...were there any other choices to be made? I wonder, is there even a Zenith now and doesn't Motorola just make cell phones these days?

And speaking of cell phones, I remember when Grant got his first one. Boy, did it free him up. I could page him (see how advanced we were!) and he didn't have to drive a few miles to find a phone booth, searching for pocket change all the while. It was an ugly brick thing that was actually mounted in the car; but, boy did we ever feel rich and ahead of the times! Speaking of which, where has pocket change gone? It has almost happened, just as predicted; that we seldom use cash anymore. When even McDonalds will take a debit card, why bother?

Is it okay to say that I miss cd's? Yep, they really are fast becoming a thing of the past. Once again, I've lived long enough to outlast the complete life of something that was once the newest and coolest. And yet cd's replaced vinyl. I'm old enough to remember using 45 rpm's with the little plastic insert that you had to put in to get it to play on your record player, which was just a little box that had latched like a suitcase and was stored away in the hall closet when you weren't using it. Our very first records were 78 rpms. The children's records were in bright yellow and green, instead of the grown-up 33 rpm black. Did you giggle, too, if you put in a 33 rpm record and turned the speed up to 78 rpm? Was there ever anything more funny to a 5 year old?

Speaking of having outlasted the complete life of something, I say to you: VHS. The first time that I had ever heard about a VCR was while watching a game show. I think it was probably The Price is Right or Let's Make a Deal. The announcer talked about how you could record your favorite shows and watch them later. Imagine that!!!!! I remember my mother remarking about how happy that would make her to record a musical such as The King and I and be able to watch it whenever she wanted. Well, those first machines were only for the wealthiest. Mass marketing didn't catch on for another eight to ten years. But they did catch on and watching tv changed forever. There was no more need to stay home to watch to see who shot J.R. Just record it and watch it later.

And what about those first video stores? Well? Remember going to some tiny shop with maybe 100 titles to choose from. You learned to find a video shop owner that shared your taste in videos. Along came Blockbuster Video and the corner shop was a thing of the past. Put out to pasture by a bigger bull. Blockbuster had everything and yet you still had to wait for the new releases to be not-so-new to actually rent one. And now Blockbuster has been put out to pasture by a little thing called Red Box and we're back to 100 titles again. Unless, of course, you NetFlix and order ahead or pay per view through cable (again limited selection of titles) or order a movie through your X-box. Who would ever have thought???

Well, every once in a while I miss the old days. Days when I wasn't accessible by cell phone and had to wait for an important call by staying home. Days when it was exciting to put on a record and be-bop around the living room to The Supremes while my parents were gone. (Jimmy Mack, Jimmy, Oh Jimmy Mack. When are you comin' back?) I miss the family gathering around the tv to watch "The Wizard of Oz" because you couldn't just flip in a dvd any old time that you wanted to watch it. (I think I was 10 years old before I knew that part of the movie was in technicolor.) I miss family dinners before Hamburger Helper. I miss waiting for your food to be cooked at the hamburger joint while you sat in the family auto waiting for the car hop to bring you steaming french fries.

Oh, well. What was it I heard lately? Nostalgia; it isn't what it used to be.

Except sometimes it is.

P.S. As if my mind were read by the MSN, here is an article to back me up!

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/39610178/from/toolbar?GT1=43001

Some Things Just Play Better With Music

2010-09-25T00:17:00.003-06:00

I remember my older sister playing her radio loudly while we cleaned our bedrooms on Saturdays when I was small. I grew up on the Beatles, CCR, Iron Butterfly and The Supremes. Somehow listening to the music made the work go down better. Forget the spoonful of sugar, it's music does the trick.

I'm not a great singer, but I love to sing. I can't remember a time when I didn't sing. My parents sang around the house. My mother would sing, "I wonder why nobody don't love me. Or is it a fact that I'm ugly?" My dad would sing, "I talk to the trees, but they don't listen to me." I always thought the songs were made up until I became acquainted with Harry Belafonte and Paint Your Wagon. So maybe this singing around the house is in my blood. I only know that I can't imagine not singing around the house.

In the movie About A Boy the lead character, Will, talks about watching other characters "singing with their eyes closed" and cringing because it was just too much--too much emotion, too much letting go, while they belted out the song, while they felt the song. Sometimes you just have to belt out a song or it doesn't quite feel right. Do you know what I mean? Will finally changes when he, too, experiences the joy of singing with his eyes closed. Sometimes you just have to, really have to sing with your eyes closed. Do you know what I mean?

All I know is that there are things that are really more fun, more pleasurable, more meaningful when you sing, even with your eyes opened. So these are some of the situations where I like to sing:

In the pews at church. I really love a good hymn.
Doing the dishes.
Taking a shower.
Cooking.
Driving, especially at night on an open highway. Yep, this one is the best.

So tell me, where do you sing? And do you ever sing with your eyes closed?

Packages

2010-09-15T12:50:00.002-06:00

One of the things I really love is to get packages in the mail. I mean, seriously, how fun is that??? I think I've always loved getting things in the mail. Well, now UPS or FedEx does just as well. My sister, Theresa, is extraordinarily good about sending packages with the funnest things; little odds and ends, bags of candy, small gifts. It's always so exciting to see what she sends.

Today I went to UPS to send two packages. Laurie will be excited to get her lamp that she needs to do her art work and other assorted goodies. Maddie & Kinlie & Company will be so excited to get their little toys, new book, animal crackers, and jam. I wish I could be there when they open it, but it was pretty fun to send it. I hope it brings them pleasure.

Since we have to keep things even, I bought Pete a giant blue ball and a dvd of Milo & Otis. I'm excited to see him when he gets his gifts.

Simple pleasures are the best. Packages. Yeah, they're up there!

Crazy, Weird Summer

2010-09-07T21:31:00.005-06:00

So Labor Day is done. As a young girl, it heralded the start of school or a break from the first week; depending upon when the school calendar started. I love the start of school. It's a new beginning of sorts. The air is cooler, holidays around the corner, and the end of a long, hot summer.

This was a crazy, weird summer. I felt much, much, much too task oriented. I wanted to fast-forward my life away. There's a lot I would do differently if I had the chance; namely "Pork."

But, Elder Ballard says that the happiness of motherhood comes in the moments. Profound thought even if I paraphrased a perfect idea. Most of motherhood is hard work, but the moments of laughter, smiles, sticky hugs are the happiness and they far outweigh the labor.

I found my summer to be a little the same way. As I look back, I see moments that will live with me for a long, long time. Of course, they mostly have to do with family. I mentioned before discovering that Maddie loves to dance to Abba. I will remember the look on her face when I broke into "Money, Money, Money." The awe as she discovered that her Nammy knows a song she knows was perfection. Sweet Maddie.

The other day, Pete was splashing with his hands in the water toy in the back yard; some cheap thing bought at WalMart for $29 that has brought a lot of fun to little ones this summer. He splashed water on me and I squealed, which is my usual response when cold, wet water falls in my shoes and dampens my capri pants. Well, he laughed so hard, I thought he would split open. It was a hearty, deep in the belly, body shaking laugh. So he splashed me again. I squealed again. He splashed me again. I squealed again. And I learned that Pete is a tease. Sweet Pete.

Nephi sent me a video of Kinlie trying to grab a forkful of mashed potatoes out of her mom's hands. Sweet Kinlie.

I have loved time with my daughters and time with my sons. I loved visiting with Kim when she got her manicure before her wedding. People were so kind to help out with all of the work of the wedding. Sweet Sharon and Sweet Angie and Sweet Denise.

I had a much too short Education Week, but some good time spent with Karrie. And I start my institute class tomorrow. I've too long neglected feeding my soul.

We went to the Farmer's Market. I've meant to go the past 3 years but have been too busy. It was fun and hectic and full of eclectic wares to buy. But why do people bring their dogs to a Farmer's Market? Although we did get to see a dog like the one in "The Shaggy Dog." Oh, and a huge gray Mastiff (sp?) that drooled A LOT.

There have been too-many-to-count family dinners. Lots of grocery shopping. Lots of cooking. Hot days driving in the un-airconditioned van. Weeding, mowing, window washing. Chores.

Best of all people.

So long summer.

Just pics

2010-09-03T10:00:00.011-06:00

Wyla Sherwood

2010-08-26T18:38:00.002-06:00

The other day, right before the August 14th, I needed to hem the sleeves for my fancy new black dress I bought for Clayton's wedding. I don't know if dresses are made for orangutans or I really, really have short arms; but sleeves are often way too long on me.

I got out my sewing machine and a name flashed across my brain: Wyla Sherwood. Wyla taught me how to sew. I was in the sixth grade and very high strung. My teacher called in my mother to tell her that she thought I needed a hobby because, as she put it, "She sits in class and shakes like a leaf." Well, my sister was in reform school, my parents were fighting all the time, and I had no friends. I had lots to shake about. Nowadays, I would be sent to therapy. Then, I got a hobby.

Sewing. Just two days before I had wanted to see how the sewing machine worked; and Kathy, my older sister, said (quite snottily, I might add), "You can't use it until you have Home Edconomics." Interesting name for a class and I don't think they even teach anything close to it now where you learned about the 4 basic food groups and how to cut out an apron that you would never use. Well, when my mom mentioned a hobby, the memory popped into my mind and I said, "I would like to learn how to sew." If we'd had a piano that Kathy had kept me away from, who knows? Perhaps I would be a virtuoso today.

At any rate, my mom did what all of us did in the days before Google; she looked in the yellow pages. Sure enough, Wyla Sherwood taught sewing lessons. She had a room above an art gallery in the Holladay area. It was quite a drive for my parents and I'm really grateful for their sacrifice in paying for the lessons and supplies, as well as the time invested in helping me calm my nerves.

Well, I took to sewing like a duck to water. I loved the order of it all. I loved that you could take a pattern, follow instructions and come out with something useable; even fashionable. Back then lots of people sewed and there were fabric stores everywhere. But I don't think there was another Wyla. She had a group of 6-8women, most old enough to be my grandmother. I don't know how they felt about having a little 12 year old girl listen in on all their chit chat. Many of them were business women looking for a hobby or a way to find clothes that didn't come off the rack needing alterations, some just wanted a night out. I do remember being teased about my lead foot on the sewing pedal. They laughed that they wanted warning when I turned 16 so they could keep off the road. What can I say? I just loved moving down those seams as fast as I could, much as I still love moving down the highway.

I thought about Wyla as I easily made the alterations to my dress. Did she have any clue of the pleasure she would bring me throughout my life by passing on her skills? All those prom dresses, Halloween costumes, baby blessing clothes would never have come into existence without her giving me my start. Truly, it has been a talent that has brought happiness to me and my family. It was probably better than therapy. Even as I type this, an array of bridesmaid dresses made for others, prom dresses sewn as service projects for Church, pioneer hats sewn for a family outing march across my mind. I can still see the materials and feel the pins in my mouth. It was the one area of my life where I felt really creative....gathering materials, buttons, ribbon and seeing it in my mind's eye as a finished project even before the first cut of the fabric. It was the one area where I would allow myself to be a perfectionist. I was never afraid of unpicking if it meant that it would turn out perfect.

Some favorites: The dress I made for Sarah out of one of Nina's old prom dresses. My Spring formal dress with the orange flowers and the one with that was turquoise blue that always made me feel like a medieval princess. Clayton's outfit with the hand embroidered sail boat. Okay, too many favorites to name.

I don't get to sew very often now. Perhaps that time will come again. Perhaps that time is forever past.

But I will forever be grateful to Wyla. I googled her the other day. There was a copy of her obituary from a few years back and it appeared that she lived a very full, very happy life. I wonder if, wherever she is, she knows what a wonderful gift she gave to a nervous 12 year old little girl.

Thank you, Wyla. I hope there are Berninas in Heaven! :)

Perfect Days Repeated

2010-08-06T14:17:00.002-06:00

Last night we had all 3 grand kids to dinner. Highlights:

*The look on Maddie's face when she saw that she was at Nammy's again.

*Pete looking so happy to have someone to play with even though Maddie looks at him as if he were a bug on the ground.

*Pete trying to get the stuffed frog to kiss Maddie and her patience as he shoved it in her face.

*The couple of times that Kinlie did smile at me.

*Seeing Kinlie's big blue round eyes and cute chubby arms.

*Dancing with Maddie to Abba songs in the kitchen. She really knows how to shake it!

Procrastination

2010-08-03T10:50:00.004-06:00

Won't tell you what I'm procrastinating, but thought I'd take a minute to share some cute things with you.

Puddle Splashin' With Pete

2010-07-31T21:20:00.002-06:00

Breakfast with Niel, who was so sweet and helped me clean the house for Kim's bridal shower.

Everyone must have had a good time because they stayed long even though the house was an oven.

The perfect end to a long day was when Pete came to visit. He was in the best mood. I love it when he throws his head back when he laughs. We played in the ball cage and threw baseballs down the basement stairs and played peek-a-boo and I chased him as he giggled and ran.

And after the rain, which was just enough to make it humid, but not enough to cool it down; Pete and I went out and splashed barefoot in the puddle by the side door.

Yep, perfect.

Everyone Seems To Be Vacationing This Summer...

2010-07-25T23:00:00.002-06:00

Even the muse.

I really dislike when my life feels like something to be endured, to get through. But that's where I am these days.

When does the fun start?

And if not fun, how about a little break from chaos?

Unlikely Heroes

2010-07-11T21:31:00.002-06:00

Thursday I went to a family reunion. Family reunions are not usually something I go to willingly. I'm not really close to my family and they really don't make a lot of social demands. That a good thing, I think. This reunion was for my husband's extended family and I wasn't looking forward to it as small talk isn't my favorite thing to do.

Kathleen was seated by me and was most happy to have an audience as she began to talk and talk and talk. It didn't take long to see that she had some mental challenges. She is about my age and quite sharp at a lot of things, but arrested in some development. She shared with me many facts; she wasn't going to be able to go to the breakfast on Saturday because of a baby shower, she goes to a singles ward for mentally challenged people and likes it a lot, her father would let her help clean, but he didn't trust her to cook, etc. Among the many facts she recited, she told me that her mother had died in February and now she and her dad are alone. Her mother had Alzheimer's for 10 years, so it had been hard for a long time. But she was missing her a lot.

At that point her father came up, a tall, lanky, soft-spoken man named Robert. He smiled at me with soft eyes and turning to his daughter he gently told Kathleen that she had taken up enough of my time. I assured him that I was enjoying getting to know his daughter.

Robert then began to share with me some experiences. He asked if I was aware that I had been talking to his miracle child. I had not. He explained that Kathleen had been a happy baby when she came down with encephalitis and fevered up to 113 degrees. The doctors didn't expect her to make it through the night. Elder Howard W. Hunter, then of the Quorum of the Twelve, was walking past the hospital room when he asked Robert if he would like his daughter to receive a blessing. Robert was happy to accept. Kathleen was blessed that she would live and be a blessing to her family. The fever broke almost immediately, but the results of the illness lingered.

Robert told me that Kathleen hadn't started uttering words until she was 6 years old. It was impossible for the unspoken anguish and labors to not hang between the lines of his story. He said that for three years she would only utter a word here and there. One day when Kathleen was the age of 9, Robert was trying to get her to record her newest word into a tape recorder. He kept prodding her and prodding her, following with the tape recorer until she said boldly, "Dad, leave me alone" surprising the family who didn't know she could string together words. It was the first sentence she had uttered. It was the beginning of many. He smiled gently as he told the story, fondly reliving the memory.

I asked Robert about his wife and he said that the 10 years had been hard having lost her bit by bit. His eyes softened when he talked about her and he said savoring the words, "She was the prettiest little thing."

So here he was right before my eyes, a real life hero. I can't imagine the grueling task of taking care of an ill wife for 10 years only to finally lose her to the grave. I can't imagine the exhaustion of caring for a daughter who is challenged for so many years, first with his wife's help and now going it alone. I can't imagine the fear he must feel at wondering who will care for her when he's gone.

If you had asked me when I walked in the room to pick out a hero, I'm not sure I would have chosen Robert. But heroism is best exhibited silently, slowly, deliberately in the quiet moments of life. Heroes; they are all around us.

Wassup Wit Dat?

2010-06-26T07:09:00.002-06:00

I need to get a couple of things off my chest; nothing too serious, just little pet peeves.

I really get bugged when someone I don't know calls me "Hon." Or should it be spelled "Hun?" It's usually a woman, roughly my own age, blue collar type, waitress or store clerk. I don't know why it irritates me so much. But when I hear it from someone in the service industry who should show a little less familiarity; the back of my neck crackles just a little bit. Am I a snob? Do I see them as less than I am? No, I don't think that's it. I just want a little more respectful distance from a stranger. Is that asking too much? Does that bug anybody else? If so, what's a good response? Perhaps I should say, "Have a nice day, dear." Or would "darling" be better? Or do I continue to do what I do and just walk away letting my annoyance fade slowly away?

Second pet peeve: What is with the word "enjoy" being used everywhere lately. Now don't be offended if you've done this to me, but I get pictures e-mailed to me with the one word "Enjoy" in the message. No friendly little explanation of the pics or a "How's the fam?" Just enjoy. And often the pictures aren't pictures of Pete or Maddie or Mckinlie. I really could take joy in those. But they are pictures of dogs or flowers or some other such falderal. (Now there's a great word. I'm going to use it more often.) Enjoy by definition means: to experience with joy, to take pleasure in, to have and use with satisfaction, to have the benefit of, and to have intercourse with. Yeah, the last one surprised me, too.

At any rate none of these will be my natural response to an e-mail filled with cutesy pictures. So why does it feel like a command of sorts when someone writes "Enjoy" and leaves it at that.

The final straw is our new microwave at work. When the cycle is finished, it's beeps once and then in it's lcd message displays over and over again "Enjoy, Enjoy, Enjoy." Now this is really too, too much! The last thing I need is some dumb microwave telling me how to feel about my poorly heated Lean Cuisine.

Thanks for letting me get it off my chest.

Memories....Like the Corners of My Mind

2010-06-19T22:18:00.003-06:00

I watched a movie last night called "Away From Her." It is a poignant show that at first glance seems to be about a man having to put his wife in a home because she has Alzheimers. But it's seriously more than that. It's about the different ways we show love and the need to show love. And it's about seeing things through to the end. It's about what makes a happy marriage and the balance between settling and sacrifice. But most of all it's about memories and how really undependable they are.

We don't need Alzheimers to color what we believe ocurred in the past. You and I could experience the same event and a year later we will remember different things or one of us might not even remember it at all. Then, too, we color memories by our own emotions past and present. The event doesn't even have to have happened a year before. My husband and I differ on what we think happened yesterday.

And yet we place so much credence in memory. Memory in the form of testimony under oath has sent men to prison and has set them free. Memory has caused people to stay in love or fall out of love. Memories of horrible things can haunt us years after the event and even cause emotional or health problems when the circumstances have long been buried. Happy memories can make us smile or even laugh. Sad memories can make us cry.

Smells can bring back memories. Popcorn takes me back to the old Century Theater where I worked for two weeks behind the refreshment counter. Songs can bring back memories. If I hear "American Pie," I am once again driving down State with my sister, Kathy, in our 56 Buick. Sounds can bring back memories. I can't hear crickets without thinking of watching "To Kill A Mockingbird" on tv on a late summer night with the front door open so the evening breeze could come through the screen to cool down the warm house.

Many people have no memories of their childhood and; yet, I can tell you dreams that I had at the age of 5. If you've had a good life, it pays to have a good memory. If life's been hard, it still pays if you use the memories as lessons.

But memories are best when shared, good or bad. So share a good memory today with someone you love. I'll bet it will open the door to more.

Snakes & Snails & Puppy Dog Tails

2010-06-15T08:46:00.002-06:00

Is that really what little boys are made of? Who in the Sam Hill came up with that? Anyway, tell me what you think this dream means.

I had a night mare last night and actually woke up with a blood curdling scream. I don’t know the last time that I woke myself up screaming. Usually in a nightmare, I just wake up with a gasp.

I dreamt that we had a snake in the laundry room and I kept telling Niel that he needed to get it out of there. I kept peeking in the door to make sure that it hadn’t moved amongst piles and piles of clothes that we had in there (in my dream). There was a black and white cat and the cat took its paw and mirrored the movement of the snake. I told Niel again that he needed to get rid of the snake for me and he kept telling me, “Just a minute.” I walked into the laundry room and fell amongst the piles of clothes, buried in them. I laid there frozen with fear that the snake would move into the pile of clothes, which he proceeded to do. In real life, Niel said that he heard me whimpering and reached over with his arm to wake me. But in my dream, I felt (his arm) the snake moving over my shoulder and screamed loud enough to wake the dead!!!

What do you think it all means?

Payday

2010-06-10T09:30:00.000-06:00

Sweeeeeeeet! Even though there's not a lot extra; I'm thankful to have a job. Lots of people don't now a days.

I'm going to go buy Pete some summer clothes (not a lot); Grandma retail therapy.

But, seriously, I'm thankful to have $$ to cover my bills, provide for my family, and have a little fun on the side. I often think that most of the billions of people who have ever lived on this planet do not and did not get to experience the 'little luxuries' that I do.

Costco at lunchtime. Sweet!

Green With Envy

2010-06-02T07:57:00.002-06:00

Coming in to work this morning, I passed some junior high school kids on their way to school. It suddenly occurred to me that this was their last week of school. I had lost track of the time. I was taken back to days of yore. Ah, that week between Memorial Day and the last day of school; was there ever anything else so sweet?

It all comes back to me; the anticipation of a long, lazy summer ahead, walking to school in the daylight and warmth after the long winter months in the dark; seeing dew on the grass; walking into a school that is no longer neat and tidy but already showing the chaos of cleaned out lockers and wastebaskets out of place.

I miss that last week, whether it be elementary school where we spent the time cleaning out and washing our desks and running relay races on the school lawn or high school where we would sign year books in each class sitting on top of the desks or cross legged on the tile floor. It was a wonderful, glorious slow paced week to transition us into an endless, languid summer.

Working 40+ hours a week, there is no 'last week' of anything. The beat goes on and on and on. Facing this morning putting a stop payment on a lost payroll check, ordering paper supplies for 4 customers and making inventory adjustments. All the time knowing I will do the same tasks again a few weeks from now.

Yes, I am envious indeed.

Time After Time

2010-05-19T21:50:00.002-06:00

I was watching 'Antiques Roadshow' today. A person brought in a clock that was made in Pennsylvania around the year 1750. It only had an hour hand; no minute hand. The expert said that people weren't as pressed for time as we are today and to even own a clock was a rare thing. Most people relied on the clock in the town square to know what time it is.

Amazing. The image of a slower pace flashed through my mind and was then gone. Because there was no time for it to linger there.

I cannot remember a time that I wasn't aware of time. I was given my first watch on my 10th birthday. It was an orange, clunky thing right in keeping with the 60's mod style. I promptly wound it too tight and it never worked quite right no matter how many times my mother took it to the jeweler to get it fixed.

How far do I have to look to find a clock today? There is one in the corner of the computer screen, a watch on my wrist, clocks on the VCR or tv, if I turn on Comcast, clocks on my cell phone, in my car, on the walls at church, work and home. Most of them do not have minute or hour hands but numbers so that I can calculate the time quickly.

How would I survive with no minute hand today? Let's see. What types of things are scheduled around time for me in a normal week? Meetings at work, time clock tracking my hours, doctors appointments, TV shows, luncheon appointments, store hours opened and closed, movie times, church meetings. How are my minutes measured? Commute time, 1 1/2 minutes in the microwave to heat lunch, boil the pasta for 11 minutes, 20 minutes until the load of laundry is ready. Could I function without minute hands? How different would life be when measured by hours and not seconds?

Could these early Americans have imagined that there would ever be such a thing as a nanosecond?

What do you think? How different would your life be without a minute hand on the clock. Should we try it for a day and see if we bring the world to its knees? What about 40 minutes? Could we go that long?

Anne Frank Exhibit

2010-05-06T09:20:00.002-06:00

Yesterday, my husband and I went to the exhibit on the life of Anne Frank at the Salt Lake Public Library. It was so very moving. Anne's life is a lesson to all of us in tolerance of others and the importance of standing up for fairness.

The library showed a video of Anne's life and seeing her smile in the only known video of her was wondrous. The exhibit has a parallel time line showing Anne Frank's life events with the rise of Nazi Germany. Looking into the eyes of people who knew they were being marched off to certain death in gas chambers is sobering.

I am most grateful to her father for sharing Anne's private thoughts with us and seeing that her dream of becoming a novelist was fulfilled after her death. I remember reading the book when I was about Anne's age and feeling her spirit through her words.

To share two quotes:

"It's really a wonder that I haven't dropped all my ideals, because they seem so absurd and impossible to carry out. Yet I keep them, because in spite of everything I still believe that people are really good at heart."

"How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world."

The exhibit ends May 11. I would encourage everyone to take the opportunity to learn more of this pivotal point of history.

National Poetry Month

2010-04-28T14:31:00.002-06:00

In honor of the month, I will post one by Emily Dickenson

Hope

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

Cleaning Irma Garski's

2010-04-25T20:13:00.002-06:00

There is a housebound widow in our neighborhood named Irma Garski. How is that for a name that rolls off the tongue? Irma immigrated from Germany in 1952. She lives in a tiny apartment not far from where I live. Since she is housebound, the ladies in the church, take turns going over to clean her home.

Her apartment is tiny, tiny, tiny. There is a bedroom, small kitchen, living room, and bath. Every available space in the apartment is filled with brick-a-brack of every variety. A multitude of family pictures line every shelf. The walls are covered with hangings of every kind. When I was there Saturday, I noticed a black felt scroll hanging with a map of St. Croix. Irma's hearing is bad and it makes conversation difficult, so I couldn't really ask her about it. But I wondered. Was this a vacation she went on? If so, was it wonderful or a disappointment as dream vacations can be sometimes? Or was this a souvenir brought back for her from a family member who leads a more adventurous life than Irma? Who knows? Around the apartment are romance magazines of every kind written in German. As I clean, I wonder how her family will ever distribute all of these things when she is gone. Or will they end up boxed up and given to a thrift store, an entire life picked over by strangers looking for a deal?

Irma has her sheets ready for changing. It takes just a few minutes to vacuum the apartment. The bathroom is spotless so there is never much to do there. I was intimidated at the idea of dusting the thousands of knick-knacks the first time I went, but I noticed that there was not a speck of dust to be found on any of them. Irma cannot see very well, so I don't know how she does it. Her mind isn't too sharp either because one time I mentioned it and she said she did it herself. Then in the next breath, she talked about someone who comes in and does it for her.

The first time I met her, she was uncomfortable with having someone she knew so little come into her home. It was wintertime and she was lonely and blue. I asked her about her children. She said that she had two, one that lived close and one further away; but she doesn't see them often. And she told me that she had grandchildren. I said, "Aren't they the best?" She said, "Well, I don't know about that. They never come around." I saw into the future to a time when Pete would be too busy to drop in to see me. She kept saying, "It's not much of a life" over and over. She apologized again and again for needing my help. I said, "Well, that's what we do. I help you. Sometimes others help me. That's how it works."

Yesterday when I visited her, she was more relaxed. Spring has come and she does have regret that she can't get out more. She is on the second floor of the condominiums and can't navigate the stairs. (Note to self: Move to a house with no stairs before it's too late.) Her spirits were a little better and she was more comfortable having me help her. She smiled more and was having a better day.

Well, life is like that. Sometimes we have better days than others. And aging is like that. Eighty-six years old can be busy and productive for some and lonely and apparently purposeless for others. I don't know which lot I'll draw. And I'm new at this aging thing. I'm not too keen on what I've experienced so far, so I would hesitate to give advice on something I'm so new at.

But one thing I do have a little experience at is learning to find joy. And joy is a slippery thing. Sometimes you have to really search, kind of like those hidden pictures that I loved as a child. You know the kind I mean, where an umbrella is hidden in a tree and an ear of corn is hidden in the eves of a house. I have learned that gratitude is tied to finding joy. As Irma talked the first time about how little life was worth living, it scared me a little. I wondered if I was peeking at my own future. But if I've learned something, it's that if I can feel gratitude, I will feel joy. Sometimes you have to dig for the things to be grateful for, but when you find them; they are gold.

For example, Irma is a very lucky lady. She has Eva, a neighbor who comes in and checks on her every day. How wonderful is that? Eva schedules all of the church ladies to come clean. Irma is lucky enough to stay in her own place with her comforts around her. Irma can still read and enjoy vicarious romance in German.

I heard a teacher say once that the virtue of Job was that he praised God even when he lost everything. I have never had to lose everything. I don't know if I've ever known anybody who has. Would I, could I, should I still be grateful if all were taken from me?

The answer is that if I want to be happy, I will be. I hope I am learning to be grateful in the little things now so that I am prepared when the big tsunami's of life hit and hit me hard.

Thank you, Irma, for the opportunity to serve you.

Time For A Change

2010-04-20T21:41:00.002-06:00

Seeing my last blog was getting me down. The problem with posting something so negative is that I usually don't stay feeling that way for long.

Since then, I have lived a roller coaster life. What else is new. I had a birthday and dear friends treated me better than I deserve. My loving children always are the best and remember their dear old mum. Sarah made me a birthday cake and a great Italian dinner. My husband took me to see the most amazing film at the planetarium about the Hubble Space Craft and pictures it has sent back to earth. The film was in IMAX 3D and it was unbelievably cool. Seeing the miracles of nature is a sure way to fill one's heart with joy.

So, while this isn't well-written or well-thought out, at least it's a little less bleak than the last post. Yeah, like that would have been hard to do.

Just One Of Those Days

2010-04-08T00:02:00.003-06:00

I can't sleep; probably too wound up from the emotions of the day, of which there were plenty. So these are my random musings.

Does it ever feel that life is just too weird around you and you don't know how to process it all? Was there ever a less complicated time? I mean, I know that it was less complicated when we were kids, but did our parents live a less complicated life? Or our grandparents? Has it always been this messy?

Don't you hate those moments in life when something happens and you really, really, really don't know how to respond? I remember my daughter telling a friend who was going on and on about something, "I have nothing to say to that." Sometimes you really don't, you know?

And don't you hate it when words don't comfort when that's all you have to give? I mean you can't give some people hugs, not in today's world. You can't throw money at some problems. Sometimes words are all you've got and they just don't cut it.

Is there a way to turn off emotions? Is that what people do when they get drunk or take drugs? Or meditate?

Who do you talk to when you really need to talk to someone and no one is around? Or at least no one is around at that moment who cares?

And isn't it weird that you can be lonely with people around? What's up with that?

And shouldn't the fact that I know I will be tired and dragging tomorrow be enough to make me go to bed?

Would it be too weird to go and fill up the gas tank in my robe? I'll have to do it tomorrow on the way to work and I'll be running late. I'm not tired now and it would be a good time to do it. What if I got pulled over or in an accident? Would I then wish I had worn one of my nicer, less comfortable robes?

To quote a song from a musical that no one but me has ever seen or would remember (except for Sarah), "Is anybody there? Does anybody care? Does anybody see what I see?" Probably not at this time of night.

Yep, I Finally Went Inside

2010-04-03T16:26:00.002-06:00

A long time ago, just a city away, I attended elementary school. It's no longer a school. It was turned into Murray City Hall many, many, many years ago. A few years after that, the police also moved in to make it their station. But I drive past it very often, doing all kinds of grown up errands. For a long time now, I have thought that I wanted to go inside and see how the building compares with the memories I have. The building is getting older and rumors abound about tearing it down, so the urgency has been building. There is something about knowing that your elementary school may be torn down that makes one feel really, really old.

Arlington was a great elementary school to attend. It was old even when I went. I believe that at one time it was the high school for Murray. It is a huge, imposing building with large windows, window made for day-dreaming school children. The building is two stories high, with one long hall down the middle, no wings growing out of the main hall. We were never, never allowed to run down those halls and the imposing principal made sure we did not. I can still see him, a big bald man standing post with his hands ominously clasped behind his back. Only the bravest disobeyed him. I remember the bathrooms with their old fixtures and black and white tile floors, so different from today's sanitized restrooms with no personality.

I was at lunch one day in the opposite part of the valley where I work. It was a nice day and I wasn't anxious to get back. As I was driving past I thought, "This is it. Today is the day!" I parked in the back with all of the cop cars. It was so odd to walk in the same back door that I had run out of as a child anxious to get to recess. I almost felt as if I were trespassing, even though it's public property.

The interior is so changed. Naturally. 40 years will do that. Yet, I could see that school in my minds eye just as it was so many years ago. I entered the long halls stepping on the vinyl floors now covered in carpet. I tentatively passed the principal and nurse's offices where I got help after being stung by a bee in the first grade. Do they even have school nurses now? If they do, I know they are not dressed in crisp white uniforms, topped off with a smart hat.

I didn't go upstairs figuring that it would look similar to the ground floor. But I remembered the old lunch room up there that was turned into a library later on.

Going outside, I pictured the janitor's house that adjoined the school yard back then. The Murray Post Office is there now. I could envision the playground with monkey bars and tether ball poles. All the girls used to wear shorts under their dresses so they could hang upside down without flashing their underwear. I loved playing hopscotch the very best. I could picture myself, a little brown-eyed girl with ears that stuck out, being chased as a first grader by Fred and Danny. I still have some scars on my knees from tripping over that asphalt.

As I crossed the parking lot to go back to my van, I saw the windows of the room where I learned to read. The huge, large window panes have been replaced with newer, efficient double paned glass. Through the window, I could see the little girl who tried to pull down the cloth blinds only to have them whip around and around the dowel at the top of the window while the children outside laughed. That was one magical room to me; the room where I learned to read. Yes, yes. Thank you, my sweet first grade teacher.

And I don't know how old I can be if I can remember all of this like it was yesterday. If it's real in my mind, doesn't it exist in some universe somewhere?

Hope, Hope, Hope

2010-03-30T23:02:00.006-06:00

I just read a good friend's post. She has had her identity stolen and is in for one hairy ride. The world abounds with bad news. It's enough to really get you down.

I heard a quote by Calvin Coolidge the other day. "If you see ten troubles coming down the road, you can be sure that nine will run into the ditch before they reach you." Well, I'm a born worrier. And 99.9% of the things I worried about never happened. What kills me is the bad stuff that I never worried about that did happen!!!

And what about the wonderful stuff that I never imagined would come into my life? Well, here are three:

Hope is in our children. Love them and nourish them. It's one way that each of us can make the world a better place.

Ole Stink-Eye Pete

2010-03-15T21:51:00.003-06:00

Grandchildren are simply the best. If you ask Maddie to show you her "cold" face she shudders and shudders. It's adorable.

Now Pete has started giving people the "stink eye." He doesn't show any indication of why he does it and it appears to be the luck of the draw who gets it. But it's the cutest thing ever. He pulls his sweet little eye brows together in a strong little scowl. I would give anything to know what he is thinking when he gives it.

We've tried to take pictures, but we snap the picture right after he's done. This pic doesn't do it justice. But let me tell you, it's not a look you'd like to see over a gun at 20 paces. Old Stink-Eye Pete. What a cutie.

Sitting Here at Work

2010-02-19T16:43:00.002-07:00

Lest you think I am a slacker, I should tell you that I am trying for the third time to download a software program that doesn't seem to be taking. It's moving at a snail's pace and I can't do anything until the program is up and running. Here's the thing. Before I decided to download it, at 3:30 p.m., mind you; I thought, "Maybe I shouldn't do it in case it doesn't work and the software company can't help me until Monday." But then I thought, "Nah, it's worked every other time I've done it."

So here I sit. And I'm going to share with you the dream I had last night. I dreamt that I had an 8th grade science project due and I was worried about how I was going to get that done along with the Bank Migration website we use and the set up for automatic deposit for worker's paychecks. I couldn't go hear Michael Wilcox teach a class because I was way too busy; and the Relief Society asked me to review a book that I didn't want to read. When I walked into the science room, I saw that the assignment was lab work and everyone had beakers and bunson burners. I thought, "I hate lab work!" I asked the teacher how I was supposed to know which group I was to work with. He said that everyone had just split into their own and to hook up with someone. I saw two smart, yet geeky, looking girls and asked if I could be with them. They turned towards me and I saw that they had spread glitter all over their arms and we having fun playing with it and giggling up a storm. I thought, "Great. Just great." I then woke up. It was 4:00 a.m. I began to think about the month closeout I had to do, as well as depreciating entries for 2009. I couldn't get back to sleep. I dozed a bit for an hour around 5:30 - 6:30. And here I sit almost 13 hours later and I have hit a wall. So the file is now at 90.6MB when it has to reach 210.

And I wonder....does this prepare me for the eternities? Does anyone grow up saying they want to be an accountant? Wouldn't it be wonderful if I had been June Cleaver and could be home right now with an apron on getting dinner ready for Ward, Wally and The Beaver?

But in spite of it all, there is much to be grateful for. #1. I am no longer in 8th grade science. #2. Well, lots more. But that science thing trumps them all right now.

109MB done.

My Work Here Is Finished

2010-02-01T05:33:00.002-07:00

I have learned how to work the remote (I think) and I got to the store and back without using the GPS. I think it is time to go home.

I think I've had a little sense of how weird it would be if we lived in a culture where the mother-in-law lived with her son and family as, well...sort of a third wheel. It's been nice to help Shandie, but they need their time alone now to bond as a family. And there will be some spoiling that needs to be undone with Maddie. (Sorry about that Shandie. I couldn't help myself, really!)

It will be months before I see Maddie and McKinlie again. Will Maddie remember that I was the one who taught her "The Wheels on the Bus?" Probably not. McKinlie may be crawling by then and will have evolved into an entirely different being. Sigh.

It's been wonderful seeing Nephi and Shandie together. They are so cute together and love each other very much. One of the great gifts of being a grandparent is watching your children be parents. Nephi works and works and works as a dad. And he is so incredibly patient with Maddie. Saturday night there was a most important basketball game on that he could only watch on his computer in his office. Unfortunately, Maddie kept wanting him to be in the family room with her while she watched a show. He kept sneaking out to catch the game and she kept calling him back. And he went back...even when his team lost their lead. Amazing! The boy of nineteen that I once knew could never have made such a sacrifice. But he smiled each time she drew him back. No fly has flown more willingly into a web. She has him wrapped around her little finger. And she knows it. But what a sweet little web she weaves.

It was hard last night to say good bye to my son. He's off at work already (6:15 a.m.). It will be another long twelve-hour day for him, working hard to support his little family. They have troubles like everyone; money problems, worries about their kids, spats about in-laws. What a ride this life is! But he will experience the joy of coming home to his girls (all three of them now). And that makes all the other stuff worth it.

I don't know the next time I will see him. A son in Texas and a daughter in Ohio is too much sometimes for this mother heart to bear. I'm so grateful to have Sarah, Clayton, Sean and Emily close by. And I am grateful to have cell phones and air planes and computers to keep all of my kids close by in one way or another. It is a much smaller world than it was. I am grateful for that.

Have I said lately how grateful I am to be a mother and now a grandmother? It's the best job in the world. Hands down. Even when you have to work remotes.

The Power of Positive Thinking

2010-01-28T13:30:00.003-07:00

Well, my trip is half over and I know I will really miss Maddie when I go back home. I will miss the way that she jibber jabbers and stops in the middle to do this cute and heartfelt fake laugh. She is a mini drama queen and she's an adorable one. I've learned that she likes to be obedient and get along....unless there is something she really, really wants and then "Maddie, The Hellcat" comes out. That's her father's name for her, not mine. Being the grandmother, I haven't seen too much of that side, since I give her most of what she wants, when she wants it. It's my job.

But the sweetest thing that I have learned is that she is an eternal optimist. Today she wanted to watch "White" (as in Disney's Snow). I've mentioned my remote challenged personality. We spent 20 minutes trying to get that stupid DVD to play. I would load it into the play station, it would come up with the Disney logo blazoned over the world renowned castle only to go to a black screen. The first time I waited and waited and no movie. Maddie busied herself pulling toys out of her toy box. I would try again and again, hitting every button on the remote trying to get me to the play menu. Once I got there only to hit the wrong button and be kicked out again. During the process, at one time, I groaned under my breath--no foul words, mind you, I know I'm in the presence of an impressionable two year old--and Maddie came up to give me a hug to make me feel better. And then she went back to her toy box to distract herself while she waited. Each time I would get to the Disney logo, she would raise her hands high in the air and shout, "Yay!!!!" When it would go back to the blank screen, she would turn back to her toy box, only to have the same scene reenacted again. I believe that in that 20 minutes, we had that logo come up 45 times. I lost count about halfway through. Each time Maddie would encourage me with "Yay!" Finally, we got the DVD loaded. I still don't know what combination of buttons worked. By then she was more interested in the toy box and never really watched Snow White. I watched and the movie jumped from the point where Grumpy gets his forced bath by the other dwarfs to the end where the Prince kisses her awake. What the what?!?! Turns out the DVD is scratched and only the blue ray works all the way through.

But I love Maddie all the more for her patience and encouragement. She's going to do a great job of getting through this life.

And McKinlie is so sweet. Funny, but she has lots of hair on the sides of her head and not so much on the top. Shandie combs it up so it's spikey. Very chic.

Maddie Plus One

2010-01-26T07:05:00.004-07:00

McKinlie Anna Mackay is now officially part of the Nephi & Shandie Mackay family. Oh, and did I say she was beautiful?

I am here holding down the fort while Mom and Baby are at the hospital. I had totally forgotten how exhausting being home with a two year old is all day. Right now, I am so grateful for Walt Disney. Did he know he existed to give moms and grandmas stolen moments of quiet?

Anyway, Maddie will be a great big sister. Nephi sent a picture of the baby to my cell phone. When I showed Maddie, she looked at it, said in the softest, sweetest voice, "Baby!" and gave my phone a hug. She was mesmerized when we were able to show her the baby through the nursery window. That's the closest she could get with the H1N1 virus scare. When Nephi came home after a long day yesterday, she met him with, "Where's the baby???"

Tomorrow is the day McKinlie and Mom get to come home and it can't be soon enough for Maddie and me; Maddie because she misses her mom, me because I can't work the remote.

I'm a gonner as soon as this Disney DVD is done!

From The Great State of Texas!

2010-01-24T21:07:00.003-07:00

Yes, Yes I am sitting in my son's study in Houston, Texas. In less than 24 hours my grandmother crown of jewels will be increased to three!

What an amazing thing to know that a new life is entering this world tomorrow to change all of our lives forever. Talk about mind blowing! Is there a phrase to describe heart blowing....perhaps overflowing is the word.

And I have had a great and exhausting time with Maddie. She is so sweet. I haven't seen her since last June and she is so incredibly sweet. She is so petite and dainty and none of the pictures seem to capture that delicate side of Princess Maddie.

We have spent most of the time with her lying on her stomach on the bed in the guest room coloring while she jabbers away. She says many words clearly, but the sentences are not easily comprehended. But she's great company. And she certainly has a mind of her own!

I am most grateful to live in times where I can fly 3 hours and be here for my son and his wife. I'm grateful for cell phones where I am a phone call away (and don't have to count minutes$$) with everyone else I really love. Isn't this really the best of times? I guess really every time is the best of times if we are looking for it.

I can't wait until tomorrow.

Year End

2010-01-20T04:40:00.002-07:00

Need I say more? Not to anyone working in accounting. No time, no time....

2009 and Kalaidescope

2010-01-01T16:02:00.008-07:00

Sarah gave me a Kalaidescope for Christmas. I love it. It's like fireworks and diamonds in a tunnel. I have loved kalaidescopes ever since I was a child and this is the first one I've ever owned.

All of my children gave me gifts of love this year. Clayton gave me the movie "Matilda" which makes me smile. Long story. Sean gave me the movie "Holiday Inn." Did I tell you about the dream I had about Fred Astaire? I didn't dance with him in my dream. I don't know what that means.

Emily is making a dvd of my grandchildren in different stages. Laurie gave me wedding pictures. Did I mention that I love my family?

Well, over all 2009 was a year that I am glad to be done with. I will not name the many reasons that I am happy to say goodbye. But to go out on a high note:

THE BEST OF 2009

Sweet Pete won all of our hearts. I love having "Peter the Accessible" around...and often. He holds my heart in his little flipper hands.

Little Maddie is getting a little sister...a promise of good things to come in 2010! Maddie looks so much like her daddy and takes me back.

The wedding of the year was on June 30th and it was a beautiful wedding. Yellow and gray and sunshine and a couple in love. The perfect beginning.

We had health, if not wealth, in 2009. Family and friends and fun. There were growth and challenges.

Here's to looking forward! Happy New Year, everyone!

The Parade Passed By...

2009-12-05T04:49:00.003-07:00

Last Saturday I was driving out to drop off my sick computer to the ultimate Computer Wizard. I was heading west on 4100 South when I found the road closed due to a parade by the Ghetto Mall. Seriously, who goes to a parade the Friday after Thanksgiving? Do people really take time to go to parades at all anymore?

It got me thinking about things that I once enjoyed that I haven't done for a while. And why haven't I done some of them, I wonder? Some things it's been more than a while. It's been years.....and years.....and years. So just to chat about a few:

Parades; probably been over 15 years since I went to the last one. Yet as a child, the 4th of July Parade was a mainstay. Then we'd gather just a month or so later for the parade kicking off the County Fair. We'd sit on the curb of State Street on our bony little fannies (as my mom called them)and plug our ears when the fire engines blared their sirens, clapping for the clowns walking by, and moving to the beat of the bands. My favorite was always the floats. I still have a thing about sparkling, glittery, lumbering vehicles topped off by pretty girls wearing pretty dresses and pretty crowns. My kids never liked parades, or at least the boys didn't seem to like them, and it was just too much effort dragging 6 little ones through the crowds. I'm not sure I'd have the patience to sit through one in person now; let alone the ones on TV (Macy's Thanksgiving, Rose Parade, etc.) that began to be boring sometime around my 7th birthday. As a side note, I was in many parades as a flag carrier for the band when I was in high school. And once when the kids were little, I was Cruella De Ville and my kids were Dalmatians for the Primary Parade the Saturday before Pioneer Day. Maybe after that, I learned that watching a parade was never as fun as being in one.

Circuses; wow, even longer since that parades. I took my kids once at the old Salt Palace. It was a Shriner's parade that I bought tickets to for charity. I wonder how many of them remember. It wasn't a very good circus. Then I was taken on a date to one in high school. I think it was either Cory Plant or Jim Cook, but I don't remember. But as a child, we had a run where it was a yearly event. My dad would take all of us girls (probably a great break for my mom) to the old Derk's Field on 13th South, right by where my dad worked. The circus started at night and I can still remember the feel of the birght lights on the dark field, trying desperately to keep my eyes open while I saw the lions and tigers and bears, oh my! The animal acts were never quite as interesting as the trapeze artists and other aerialists because I was, again, always drawn to ladies in pretty costumes. Put sparkles on a piece of clothing and you've captured my attention immediately. Watching little dogs jump through hoops wasn't very thrilling. I do remember my dad buying me a Kewpie doll every year, a sweet plastic concoction with feathers and sparkles that never lasted beyond the next day. But how I loved them for that day.

Shopping for Christmas trees (and for a few years plodding miles into the wilderness to cut them down) was a big thing for my family growing up. My mother loved the smell of a long needle pine tree in the house. We stopped that tradition early in our marriage when one year the tree we bought at trusty Allied Supply was dead by Christmas Day. We opened presents under the drooping limbs and the minute the kids were off with their toys, I spent the morning taking off the decorations and lights. Grant and I dragged it out to the field, where he lit a match that torched it immediately. It cured me of real trees. The next year we purchased our first "fake" tree. Grant teased the kids by showing them the 12" one the clerk at the store had thrown in for free before he brought out the 8 ft one. It was just a few years later that we learned that Laurie had such an allergy to pine that we couldn't even light a pine scented candle to invite the smell into the house without her coughing and sneezing in misery. I don't miss the real tree ever. Who needs to be climbing under a bunch of glass bulbs to water a tree every day? And who needs to come up with an extra $50 every year when the budget is already tight?

And, believe it or not, there was a time when I was crafty. Not sneaky, mind you...that's not me. But I used to go to the old musty, messy places called Zims and Utah Craft before they morphed into clean and crisp places like Roberts and Michaels. Yes, Virginia, I purchased paint for wood nativities and silk flowers for arrangements and glitter for whatever I could find. (Do we see a trend with the glitter thing? Ya, Ya. I think we do.) That was really a long time ago! I don't even know when it ended. I was never good at "crafts." I think I do things too tightly with my hands or something like that. I must be a little uptight. (Niel would laugh if he read that one.) I could never be loose and flowery and creative. And my house would get messy. Crafts took up precious space on the kitchen table and after spending hours getting burned with the hot glue gun, I would stop to see that the house had been demolished by my own personal Mackay wrecking crew and the crafts just never seemed worth it after counting the cost.

It's funny how the things I once enjoyed lost their enjoyment. Perhaps I've gotten too busy with my to-do list. Perhaps it's just that I've found new enjoyments. All I know is that last Friday, I was surprised to find there were still parades being held somewhere, anywhere on the day after Thanksgiving. Looks like Santa arrived at the Valley Fair Mall without me. And, frankly...that's fine by me!

What A Nice Day

2009-11-22T06:25:00.003-07:00

Bone tired still, but in a nice way. I got up early (5:30 a.m.) to prepare dinner for some special guests.

Went and walked with Karrie. Old friends really are gold.

My sweet husband and I got to go to the temple to do sealings with other ward members. An amazing spirit fills the room and leaves with you.

Got to go to Bath and Body Works. Can you ever have too much lotion or sweet smelling soaps? Especially when they have names like Nectarine Mint?

Our special guests came for dinner....the missionaries in our area. Loved hearing their experiences and testimonies. One of them reminded me particularly of Sean, dark haired, quiet, with a nice smile. It made me think of my own sons serving and gave me the opportunity to give back just a little to all of those wonderful sisters who fed my sons over the years. Kathy Priest...thanks again! Sent them home with all of the leftovers, except for enough baked beans for Clayton to have a taste.

Went grocery shopping with my good helper, Niel. Read over my Sunday school lesson. Yes, prophets again walk the earth. Watched part of an Alfred Hitchcock movie before falling asleep. It was his only comedy with Carol Lombard, so no bad dreams there.

Yes, still bone tired tired this early Sunday a.m.; but worth every minute of it.

The Eyes Have It

2009-10-28T15:05:00.003-06:00

I am working on getting used to contacts. Since my old eyes are blurry as they strive to adapt to focusing on one or the other contact (depending upon if I'm looking close or far), I am being less productive this week at work.

And I finally realize how very lucky I was to never need glasses for 40+ years. Although medical science can do some amazing things, the bandages that they use to make up for our body's failings (hearing aids, glasses, dentures, etc.) are never as good as what Mother Nature gave us in the first place.

But I am grateful for those bandages...at least I'm not consigned to being blind forever! But I can't wait for my size 2 resurrected body!

Relationships, Trust, Love and Whatever

2009-10-06T19:21:00.005-06:00

You know I believe that relationships are forever. I really do. But not all relationships, mind you.

Warning. I'm a little raw these days.

Last week my dad had to have brain surgery. You would need to know more history than I can put in a blog to know what that means....really means. My sister dropped everything to go up and sit in a room full of strangers, by any other name called steps (siblings, mother, etc.). I didn't. I'd taken that ride before and I said no thanks this time. It's one of those round and round rides that make you dizzy and nauseous and you just wish the ride would quit and it keeps going on and on and when you think it's stopping, it just lets someone else off and starts up again. My sister is mad that I chose differently than she and I'm left asking, "Who wrote the rules on these relationships things?" Was it an open vote? If so, how did I miss it? I'm not bitter, just confused.

I did go up to see my father today. Huge hospital with amazing architecture and windows and wide halls that criss cross and leave you having to choose between elevators A, B, and C. Lovely, really. That is until you get to the ward with four beds in it. It was cramped and crowded and ugly. For the first time I thought about the mix that hospitals are: hope, despair, busy, languid, living, dying. Weird seeing him lying in bed, tearing up over memories of me as a child, remarking that I look more and more like his mother. Never mind that he doesn't know one challenge that's facing me today, one joy that makes me smile. However, he'll be fine and out in a few days. I may hear from him again next birthday.

But it got me to thinking. One of the issues (there's a catchword for you) in my life is that I have had the opportunity/challenge of having significant people in my life who don't get that trust = relationship. Or that's how I see it. Isn't that how it is? Shouldn't that be the number one rule? If we're talking about rules, wasn't this one voted on and approved unanimously??? It seems obvious. I mean, can you really love someone you don't trust? Can you want to be with someone that you don't trust? And I mean, especially forever? Will it be Heaven if you look into the eyes of the person next to you (be it parent, child, spouse, or friend) and you can't believe what they are telling you? I think not.

And would it be Heaven if you couldn't look into the eyes of the person next to you and tell them the truth? I mean the honest, bald, sometimes ugly, often beautiful truth?

And about this trust thing....isn't it as much about actions as words. If someone says one thing and does another, what are you gonna believe? I mean, really, what should you believe? Words really are only as powerful as the actions behind them, aren't they? Isn't it only a fool who believes just words? I mean words are cotton candy, clouds, and fog. At least that's what they are without actions, aren't they? They are shot out to hang, to float without substance, in the air until an action gives them life. Didn't even Reagan say, "Trust and verify?"

Which brings me to Love. Isn't love trust and trust love? Can you have love (romantic, parental, friendship) if you can't believe that love is more than words? Isn't love actions? Okay, now I'm circling here. Love=Actions=Trust=Relationship=Forever If any of those are missing, the whole castle in the air dissolves.

But if the actions back up the words....well, then you have power!

And lest you think this is only a downer blog, a major purge of ugliness, you should know that I have had relationships that were built on trust...long term ones. I would trust my kids with my life. And you know what? I think they know they could trust me with theirs. And then there's one sister that always comes through. She's better at it than I am. One out of 4 siblings...that ain't bad. (And that's not even really fair, because I stink as a sister. And I'm not so great shakes as a daughter, either.) Then there are friends that have staying power and have earned the titles of honorary brothers and sisters. I'm thankful for these people. They add color and light and peace to my life. They are precious gifts.

And there's the ultimate One in whom I trust. The Foundation. He who never says one thing and does another. And I know. I've tested Him. He passed, and more than once.

So crazy as it is...I have hope in relationships. I have hope that relationships based on love and trust can last into eternity and beyond! :)

Saturday Is A Special Day

2009-09-12T16:56:00.006-06:00

Let's see, it's 5:00 p.m. I woke up at about 7:30 a.m. (slept in a little). Read the paper (quickly), went walking on the treadmill at the gym (read "Oliver Twist"), went to Great Harvest (the bread store), Costco (Watermelon for Clayton), came home, dropped off, went grocery shopping (Smith's), came home dropped off. I then showered and met Sarahmiah and Peetato at Thanksgiving Point where we walked around the gardens for 1 hour and got to taste new hybrid tomatoes. (Orange tomatoes are cool.)

I shopped for new high heels at Macy's. It only took me 15 minutes because I hate shopping for shoes ever since a shoe salesman told me I had fat feet when I was in sixth grade. (I hope I get nice ankles in the eternities. Do you think we'll wear heels? I digress.)

I came home and mowed the lawn and did some weeding. I am now watering said lawn.

This is a normal Saturday for me. I like to be busy. I like to feel as if I've accomplished something every day. And that's a good thing because there is never a shortage of work around here. I like the feeling of using my body after using my mind all week long (or sort of....at work). Moreover, there is a great feeling seeing the lawn look good and a fridge full of milk and fruit. Life has it's payoffs, doesn't it?

When I was young I would read for hours, when I was younger I would watch ants on the sidewalk and clouds in the sky. I'd like to say I'd like to do that again, but I really wouldn't; not right now anyway. I'm not saying the time won't come in my life again where I have hours upon hours to pursue listless pleasures. But that's not my season now. We learn in whatever season we are in, don't we?

And now I'm off to clean out my bedroom drawers. Happy Saturday everyone! And Sarah, thanks for letting me tag along with you, Moo-moo and Lil' Pete!

Scroll below to see and older picture of the cutest lil' Pete this side of the Mississippi! Too bad he's not smilin'! He often is!

You Can Find Me in Omaha!

2009-08-26T18:24:00.002-06:00

The last two weeks have been a most unusual treat for me. Last week was spent at BYU Campus Education Week. I know, I know....this is NOT how most people would choose to spend a vacation. But the last few years, on the first morning, I have experienced an amazing giddyness that I don't feel anywhere else. The full impact doesn't hit until I climb out of the van, pull out my rolling-makes-me-the-ultimate-dork backpack, and start heading for the campus. I am so excited that I want to run. I want to skip. My heart feels light. And I know there is a full week of learning ahead. Does it GET any better than this?

I spent the week in class after class: Film classes, one art class (that I fell asleep in...sorry, Laurie), classes on Isaiah, classes on the grace of Jesus Christ, classes on wealth in the scriptures (and how to handle having it or not having it), a devotional with Pres. Boyd K. Packer, etc., etc., etc. I love it. Amazingly, it energizes me. Friday hit and I DID NOT WANT TO GO HOME. I had a fleeting though about hiding out somewhere on campus and auditing the larger classes where I wouldn't get caught. But the police, in searching for me, would track my credit card to the Cougar Eat and I'd be busted. Darn it! Why didn't I bring cash?

This week I have been in Omaha for work. It has been classes all day, albeit training classes; not quite as fun. But I have had a great time. And I love Omaha. I seriously could live here. Omaha, you say? Well, there is the most beautiful flavor to this town. The people are so friendly, there are beautiful parks with a myriad of fountains to walk around, and all kinds of little shops, art galleries, and restaurants in "Old Market." This little area alone makes this city a jewel. There are Indian, Italian, Steakhouse, and even Persian restaurants. The streets are cobblestone and the buildings have printing on the brick sides. It's like stepping back into the 1880's. So cool that they have preserved their history in this way.

Last night the company that I am training with took the conference to Omaha's amazing zoo. We saw all kinds of neat, and I mean neat, animals. Finally, we had dinner in the aquarium. Unfortunately, we did not get to see the penguins because they were mating and needed their privacy (So the zoo keepers said. I have my doubts). The hall that we had the dinner in was surrounded by an aquarium and we ate with sharks and a sea turtle swimming overhead. I did get to see seahorses, by the way. The are so delicate. What a miracle of Nature; artwork in the form of a fish. And I saw what could only be described as a sea dragon. It was about 9 inches long and; at first glance, looked like a piece of floating seaweed. Only upon deeper inspection could you see the long snout and eyes; spooky, yet beautiful at the same time.

Anyway, I'm thinking of staying here.....Oh wait, I would not get to see the people who matter most to me. So I guess I'm stuck in Salt Lake. But has anyone ever written a song, "I Left My Heart in Omaha?" Or at least, part of my heart. :)

Road Trip

2009-07-30T10:41:00.003-06:00

We got back Sunday night from our almost cross country adventure. It went like this:

Salt Lake City, Utah to Lincoln, Nebraska
to Independence, Missouri
to St. Louis, Missouri
to Columbus, Ohio
to Kirtland, Ohio
to Columbus, Ohio
to Chicago, Illinois
to Nauvoo, Illinois
to Grand Island, Nebraska
to Salt Lake City, Utah

We saw much along the way. The very best:

Laurie and Clint
Laurie and Clint's apartment
Adam-ondi-Ahmen
The Nauvoo Temple
The St. Louis Arch
The old Chicago City Library
Millenium Park
North Market in Ohio

The not so very best:

Dirty restrooms (Ick, double ick)
Too much fast food
Snacks in the car

We drove, drove, drove...over 4300 miles in 8 days. And here's the thing...I love a road trip. I love driving with the radio blaring, singing along to the tunes, watching the miles tick by. It never ceases to amaze me that we can cross so much country in so little time. Thank you, Henry Ford. I like the feel of moving in a car. I always have. I remember, as a child, loving the feeling of rolling up and down hills, gliding through a turn, and the wheels beneath you on a long stretch of road. We passed through some wonderful country. Big cities like Chicago, Indianapolis, St. Louis. Cities with history like Kirtland and Independence. Small towns with big names and little populations; one after another. Small towns with even smaller names and sometimes smaller populations. And all of them have their own personality; as varied as the humans inhabiting them. We saw the Mississippi and crossed the wide Missouri. Farmland as far as the eye can see. Beautiful sunsets and even one amazingly beautiful sunrise, with mist blanketing the cornfields as far as my eyes could see.

And I feel grateful to live in a time when I can drive. Learning to drive and learning to read have brought me two of my great pleasures. And during the road trip, I even got to read when it wasn't my turn to drive, "Uncle Tom's Cabin." So add a great book, good ridin' and music and it's a recipe for the best road trip.

Time At Last

2009-07-13T21:09:00.002-06:00

The wedding is over. It was an 'elegant affair' and a good time was had by all. Maddie and fam are back in Texas. I'm no longer YW president and I'm left with much time on my hands.

Now, what to do, what to do! I'm keeping my next big project under wraps. But it is 'mucho gusto!'

I walked Peter around the neighborhood in the stroller for 30 minutes today. Sweet Pete goes into a zen state where is is not aware of anything and yet is aware of everything around him. Probably not a bad place to go. But suffice it to say, he is so cute!

Anyway, it's nice to be no-so-busy for a while!

A Perfect Day in the Midst of Madness

2009-06-27T22:35:00.002-06:00

In the midst of being buried in cupcake worries, nightmares of wedding day disasters, dress fittings, and picking up tables for the reception; we experienced a practically perfect day.

I got to spend precious moments with my sweet, sweet husband today; and that's been a rare thing for us lately.

I got to spend time with Maddie and that's a really rare thing. She talks! She walks! Of course, we only understand about 1 word in 50; but we love it just the same. What would I give to know what she is saying when she is saying, saying, saying? I would give a kingdom. Unfortunately, I have no idea where you buy a kingdom. I doubt they sell them at Target. I KNOW they don't at Walmart.

I absolutely love watching Nephi with her. How amazing to see my son in the role of father. He's patient and fun and adoring. But who could not adore her? She loves to play ball and actually smiled at Niel. She loved the book that has a steering wheel and makes driving and honking noises. I got to take her alone for a walk in her stroller and then we went again with Nephi. Nephi and I talked as we walked and Maddie feel fast asleep. Perfectly rare moment! Once we got home, Maddie woke up and then she was fussy until she got her second wind. But with that second wind came even more cuteness. She's so, so, so cute!

But best of all, I got to escort my daughter, Laurie, to the temple today to attend, as the temple matron put it, the celestial university. The reception train that has been picking up speed, racing by faster and faster, ground to a halt; and for four hours we felt the quiet, still of the temple. Pure joy to watch my sweet daughter take it all in. Pure joy to see my children gather in the temple to support her. Pure joy to see her sweet fiance care for her so well. Pure joy...simply that....pure joy.

The only thing that would have made it perfect would be a visit from Sweet Pete. Ah, tomorrow, we will gather for a Sunday dinner; and, yes, Sweet Pete will get to visit with cousin Maddie. How cool is that?

Thank Heaven above for perfect days in the midst of madness.

It's the Name of The Game, Etc., Etc.

2009-06-07T23:23:00.003-06:00

Aren't you happy that we live in a time where movies, books, and music are so readily available? No, let me ask, aren't you ecstatic??? Well, I am. And today I want to focus on music.

I have been busily making cupcakes for Laurie's wedding (45 dozen in the freezer...everything from Cherry Marzipan to Banana w/Cinnamon Honey Frosting to Chocolate Cream Filled). They are not frosted yet and I don't know how they will turn out, but if they don't...we will just say, "Let them eat cake!" Wedding cake, that is.

Anyway, I digress; as I am prone to do. I could not have gotten through it (because making 45 dozen cupcakes tends to be a bit tedious) without music. Some of those cupcakes were birthed to Classical music from the movies including Opera, some to Motown Classic 60's, and most to the soundtrack of Mamma Mia. Yes, Emily sat at the kitchen table visiting with me, surfing Facebook, as well as various online stores and played her copy of the Abba inspired musical. I'm not a super Abba fan, but the music is just so darn danceable. And dancing while making cupcakes is a good thing to do. Honey, Honey....Take a Chance on Me.

From the time I was 8 and had my first transistor radio (a little boxy thing that ate up 9V batteries like a desert drinks up water) to now with music playing at work on my computer, at home on my cd/radio installed under the cabinet, to the old radio in my 13 year old van; I cannot imagine a life without instant music.

I rocked to that transistor and when it wore out, I rocked to others that followed. I carried them with me when I walked around the neighborhood. Music kept me company when I did dishes, when I went to sleep at night and even when I laid out (which was a totally 60's thing to do even though I never tanned).

I still love 60's rock and it always lifts any spirit. I must admit that I don't get rap. And for some unfathomable reason (for a girl who grew up in Utah) I cannot stand country. I think it has to do with the twang....or perhaps the sappy lyrics. However, I fell in love with Mozart when at the age of 18 I sat in a library listening to "Eine Kleine Nachtmusik" over and over instead of transcribing the shorthand tapes I was supposed to be doing. I still love that piece of music. It's the last thing I want to hear before I leave this world. My kids have been told that as soon as the grave is dedicated, they are to play the best recording of that music they can find. My appreciation of Opera really grew when Sarah and I had the chance to go to the Utah Opera Company for their dress rehearsals when she was in high school and needed the concert for credit for her choir grade.

Now, that I'm old....I've learned to love crooners and even a little jazz, though I'm not fond of scat. Sarah gave me an Ella Fitzgerald cd a few years ago and she still laughs when she remembers my what-in-the-Sam-Hill?-quick-look-excited expression when I opened it. Who knew that Ella was so smooth and that she could sing "Someone To Watch Over Me" in a way that could make the coldest heart long for love?

I love musical soundtracks. I love the Beatles, who do not belong lumped in some 60's music category, but rather rock on their own. I loved the hours spent with the kids driving in the van listening to children's tapes with John Jacob Jingle-Heimer Schmidt and On Top of Old Smokey, primary songs; and, yes, even one odd tape that had tv show themes like Gilligan's Island and even Rin Tin Tin. (We can sing them all...even "Duck and Cover," which was some cold-war training song teaching what to do if an Atom Bomb hit for kids at school.)

And finally there was one song that came with a little story book. Actually, there was a whole set and the kids could read the book while the cassette told the story and sang a little song. "Three cheers, three cheers for the little red hen. She could do the work of ten." But the one that we all remember and no one can put their finger on which story it went to was, "Cupcakes and Lemonade...that me and my mommy made."

How apropros! Is there a way we can get a copy of that to play at Laurie's wedding? Anyone? Anyone?

Share, if you will, your favorite music memories with me. I mean, really. Aren't they the best?

Ohio

2009-05-24T20:30:00.003-06:00

Last weekend, I had the opportunity to go to Ohio to visit with my sweet daughter, Laurie. It was her Master of Fine Arts Show. Since I will never have another daughter graduate with her master in fine arts, it was a must see.

It was wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. And guess what? My daughter is now a professional artist. A major collector sent a scout to the show and purchased one of her pieces for......drumroll.......$3500! How wonderful is that?

But more than the sale was seeing the culmination of her two years of hard word in Ohio. Laurie's art has a beauty and a softness that is inexpressible. She is most modest about her work; but, trust me, she is genius. And that's not just her mom talking. We went to the Columbus Museum of Art; and I chose as my favorite painting a Matisse, which was probably the most expensive painting in the room. I tell you, I have taste. And my taste tells me that my daughter's art work was the best; far better than the student who made a drinking fountain out of duct tape or the one who froze meat in an ice block.

I also got the chance to see her and her honey together. They are so cute, just like an old married couple. We also went for ice cream at her favorite place in Ohio, Jeni's. I had an ice cream sandwich made out of banana curry ice cream with cashews. I know, it sounds gross. It was not. Yes, it was out of this world...the kind of taste that I will now crave every once n a while.

We also went to the North Market, which is an indoor farmer's market. It was very fun.

Last of all, I got to see the apartment she and Clint will be sharing. Laurie has definitely put her touch on it. It is tasteful and artistic, down to the pillows on the couch.

What a great weekend.

And this weekend, Laurie flew here for her bridal fitting. We have many gatherings planned this weekend. Family gatherings...it really, truly doesn't get any better.

Planet Houston

2009-05-17T20:57:00.004-06:00

The past two weeks have been most exciting and I must share. I want to share. But the trip to Ohio will have to wait until the next writing.

Not this weekend, but the weekend before, I got to visit Houston. Oh, the city was fine all right and we even got to see the Museum of Natural History and the Houston Temple. But the real attraction to those in the know was Maddie Mackay and her loving parents.

It was so great to see how happy and cute Nephi and Shandie are together. And they are both amazing parents to Maddie. Poochie remembered me and wagged her tail, old and slow as it is.

But to see Maddie in her own surroundings was S-W-E-E-T! So here's a flash of pictures I took with my heart because I am terrible at taking them with a camera.

She loves her bath, which Shandie does in the kitchen sink (which is really the best way!). Shandie made Maddie's hair into a mohawk while she was shampooing it and Maddie loved it. She loves the water and splashing around with her special bath toys.

Maddie went wild at the petting zoo we visited; and for some unfathomable reason, the pigs were her absolute favorite. How can that be when she was surrounded by deer, peacocks, cows, donkeys, and even ferrets?

She won't hold two people's hands while she is walking, so when Niel took her right hand, Maddie dropped my hand which had been holding her left. What's up with that?

Maddie has the cutest little coy look, glancing down with her big blue eyes and then covering her eyes with her hand. Maddie also has a most mischevious look right before she does something that she knows she's not supposed to. She looks out of the corner of her eye to see if she will get away with it. And if she thinks there's the slightest chance, she goes for it.

Maddie would much rather feed me Trix than herself and I was more than happy to allow her to feed me trix that had fallen in her little princess chair that she likes to sit in. Luckily they weren't day old Trix. You know, I hate Trix, but they taste great when fed with little hands.

But the best was the night before we were going to leave. Maddie waved good night with the cutest little princess/beauty pageant wave that you ever saw. How can a 15 month old have that much charm?

We should call her the Enchanting Princess, because enchanted I am.

She had the cutest little surprised, big-eyed, aprehensive look when I went to get her out of bed in the morning when she was expecting her mother. But she was fine as soon as I lifted her out of the crib and took her to "Da!"

Forced Ponderings

2009-04-14T16:33:00.004-06:00

I wish that I didn't have to be forced to slow down, but such is the nature of my life. Last night I had the privilege of watching Peter while Saramiah moved out of their house.

Peter loves to be rocked while he is sleeping. He doesn't necessarily like being cradled, but rather prefers being held up to your chest as if he is standing while being rocked. He was a tired little guy because he slept for almost two hours while I rocked. And it's amazing the random thoughts that flit across your mind when the only sound is a baby's soft breathing and the creak of a chair. For example....

Why does this chair squeek and is there really nothing we can do to fix it? Niel said that it's just old, but really...doesn't oil fix everything?

Is there anything softer than rubbing your cheek against a baby's hair?

This chair is so uncomfortable. It kind of has a cushion that pushes your head forward. Niel says I'm just too short for the chair.

Dusk is the most amazing time of day. It's kind of magical, really. And dusk in the Spring is entirely different than dusk in the Winter. Winter dusk is cold and quick, strangling the light rather cruelly. Spring dusk kind of sneaks in, as if the light is the last to leave the dance of day, still waving good bye long after it was expected to be gone.

I really must dust that curio cabinet.

I still love that little sculpture that Laurie did in college. I remember when she gave it to me. She was so bugged when Angie called it "cute."

Isn't it sweet how Peter will take a deep breath and then breath out like a chugging train?

How can his little hand look so cute?

Does he feel fat in his skin the same way I feel fat in mine? I hope it's not uncomfortable.

Could it get any better than this?

Sweet Pete...thanks for the two hours.

Death and Taxes

2009-02-28T03:46:00.002-07:00

No, no one died. And, yes, we do owe taxes this year.

The saying goes that two things are inevitable, death and taxes. I would add one thing to that list of inevitable life experiences and it is "Change." With a capital "C" and that rhymes with "T" and that stands for trouble.

Change. The mere word inspires either an adrenalin rush like no other or a cold feeling in the pit of your stomach depending upon a few factors, I believe. One is the nature of the change. Is it happy or sad? Wedding verses loss of a job? Getting a new car verses growing older?

The other factor that determines the response to change is our natural temperaments. There are adventurers and then there are nest builders.

I had a friend who had a friend who loved to move. I mean move as in houses, residences, states; not dance, walk, or run. She would sell her house and move, first around the county, then out of the state, just for the adventure of it. I could not imagine such a thing! Packing, unpacking, finding new grocery stores, schools, doctors, and friends. It was unfathomable to me that anyone would call that adventure!

I have experienced mucho, mucho change in my life. And it has taught me that change is inevitable, sometimes stressful, often good-for-you, and; yes, sometimes even happy. But I am a nest builder and not an adventurer (at least where change is concerned). I have not yet learned to make change "easy."

Oh, I know all the stuff about how it's all in your attitude, blah, blah, blah. Well, just how does one change ones attitude, I'd like to know? I have never found it an easy thing to do. I come from emotional responses, the heart not the mind. Can one really change feelings as easily as one changes one's underwear? It is not a talent that I have mastered.

And now, having enlarged my nest to include so many more people; there is so much more change. Now I get to watch my kids experience change. I am afraid that they are all nest builders. Well, there may be one or two semi-adventurers in the bunch...well, maybe not.

They will learn, as I have, that change is survivable...always survivable, if you know where to look for strength.

I wonder if any of them will learn the whole attitude thing, thus making change a fun and exciting part of life.

Nah, probably not.

There's sick...and then there's S-I-C-K

2009-02-17T16:09:00.002-07:00

May I confess that sometimes I like being sick? By sick I mean sick, not S-I-C-K. Let me explain the difference. Sick is when you have just enough of the sniffles that you stay in your pj's, spend an afternoon in bed, drinking Sprite, eating rice pudding, and watching old tv shows (i.e. Leave It To Beaver, Green Acres). I like that kind of sick once in a while. Can't handle it too often, but sometimes it's kinda nice. It feels like a short vacation from the grown up world. It's extra fun now that I have Niel to be so nice to me and wait on me hand and foot, bringing me juice.

However, I do not deal very well with being S-I-C-K. S-I-C-K is when your throat starts hurting clear last Wednesday and you are too sick to stay at Maddie's first birthday party, or to hold Peter for days on end. It is when you lie in bed and can't move because of the aches and pains. You can open your eyes wide enough to see things that need to be done, but you can't do any of them. It is when you can almost hear the work piling up on your desk in your office 8 miles away from home. It is when you have to blow off church and family duties for over five days and you're still not home having fun watching old tv shows. It is when you only wake up long enough to cough up a lung and then fall back into a sweaty, uncomfortable sleep.

The only benefit to being S-I-C-K is that you could bounce a check or forget to make a payment and it won't matter (at the moment) because you are too deep in the fog of being S-I-C-K to care. But it catches up to you, so maybe that's not a benefit. And, no I didn't bounce a check or forget to make a payment. I'm just saying that's how it is.

So finally, today, after missing the last three days of work and wasting a weekend, particularly a Valentine's Day weekend; at 3:48 p.m., the S-I-C-K broke and I am now just sick. Yay! I just did a short load of dishes and took out the garbage and am still standing! I will still blow off Young Women's tonight and lay in bed watching old tv shows....and try not to think about next Saturday when I will be working to make up for lost time.

Maybe there really never is a vacation. :)

Passwords

2009-01-30T04:43:00.004-07:00

When exactly did passwords become so necessary to getting through life? I am old enough to remember when the only password any of us knew was the one that got us into the neighborhood tree house. And if they changed the password on you and didn't tell you the new one, you knew your social life was on the skids.

By definition, a password is:

1. a secret word or expression used by authorized persons to prove their right to access, information, etc.

I'm not sure that I should have any right to access or information of any kind. Doesn't that sound somewhat James Bondish? How could such a thing be necessary in my little, old life? But, because of my work, I use lots of passwords; passwords into bank websites, government websites, supply ordering websites; the list is endless. And all of those passwords float around in my head taking up much needed space! Now my mind is so full of passwords that it seems there is hardly room for anything else. And I wish I had a dollar (would have been a dime, except for inflation) for every e-mail received from online stores, etc. that have had to send me the "Forgot your password e-mail." I always feel somewhat upbraided after receiving one. I don't know why. And then when they make you reset it instead of just sending you the old one....Sheesh!!!! More brain space just wasted!

At my age, shouldn't I be filling my mind with memories or nuggets of wisdom to pass on to the next breathlessly waiting generation?

I read somewhere that you should never have a spreadsheet or word file with your list of passwords because hackers can steal that info and wreak havoc in your life. (And what's with hackers anyway? Isn't that a lower life form? How can anyone have so little to do that they have endless time to spend sitting in dark rooms hacking into other peoples lives? I say get your own! But I digress...)

So tell me, how do you keep your passwords straight? And don't you really wish that we lived back in the times when "Password" was a television game show with Alan Ludden as the host? Ah, simpler times for sure!

Peter (The Accessible)

2009-01-20T04:35:00.004-07:00

Yes, it has happened. My daughter is a mother. Peter David Washburn was born yesterday morning at 12:35 a.m. And he is a most fortunate child to have the sweet mother that he does. He is, of course, perfect. 10 fingers, 10 toes and immediately after birth he looked exactly like a cabbage patch kid. Now that he is a day past the beating up of birth, he looks like the perfect mix between Sarah and Jeremiah.

Babies are the best. But, as often happens in life, good follows bad or the other way around. Friday evening, my ex-husband had a serious accident occur on his jobsite. His line of work is demolition and it is a dangerous profession.

Laurie's birth also was somewhat an intersection of happy and sad. I found out the day after she was born that my beloved mother-in-law was dying of cancer and only had a short time to live. Laurie was light in the middle of shock and sorrow. I remember often taking Laurie and the other kids over to Mom's house during those final days. Once Laurie was lying on Mom's bed next to her, just cooing away. I remember Mom smiling and remarking on that sweet, beautiful baby sound. And for some moments, that sound deadened the pain.

Life has been compared to a roller coaster. Sometimes I think it is more like the Wild Mouse at Lagoon, a roller coaster of sorts with one big difference. The Wild Mouse takes pleasure in jarring the rider. It will take you to the edge only to jolt you in the other direction. At the end of the ride, you have laughed and and you have screamed. And you are left with bones rattled and muscles sore. But what a ride!

I have pondered this weekend how often in life the happy comes with the sad; how often sorrow is followed by joy. If we allow it, the joy always wins. Joy is so powerful. Yes, powerful enough even to overcome sorrow. Powerful enough even to overcome worry. If we let it.

And isn't life wonderful? Especially the hope that comes with a new life. Sweet Peter may be the President someday (I'd prefer President of the Church over the Nation :) ), or a teacher of teenagers, or a wonderful father, or whatever he wants to be. He is promise personified. Every baby is the birth of hope.

And God is good. Yes, yes He is! In the words of CS Lewis, "God who foresaw your tribulations, has specially armed you to go through it, not without pain but without stain; not a case of 'tempering the wind to the shorn lamb' but of giving the lamb a coat proportional to the wind."

Gratitude is the key to overcoming sorrow. Opening our eyes to joy and light chases away the dark. The light is there. It is always there.

And to digress... Yesterday, we went to the hospital and Peter's paternal grandpa, Mike, was holding him. Mike is a quiet, soft-spoken giant of a man, who is always ready with a smile. I thought of how lucky Peter is to have three grandpas. He has Niel who is most gentle, Mike who is most warm, and Grant who is most wacky. And little boys need all three. What a lucky, lucky baby!

Dreams

2008-12-28T15:49:00.002-07:00

I absolutely love my dreams. I mean, sleep time is often as interesting to me as waking hours.

One night a couple of weeks ago, I woke Niel up by laughing in my sleep. Not ha ha, loud guffawing, but a long, constant chuckle. He asked me what I was dreaming and I was still half asleep and couldn't make my mouth work the words. All I could get out was that it was something about The Brady Bunch. I love being awakened by laughter.

A few nights ago, I had a dream that I worked for a company like Lowes, not in a floor position, but a buyer of some sort. Now, you would have to know that was dreaming because I know as much about hardware as I do about physics...zilch, nada, zero. Anyway, Niel and I were attending a convention in San Diego. We were driving down an ocean highway in a convertible. I told him that he was going too fast for the corners and he brushed away my concerns (this part of the dream was quite realistic). Sure enough, he took one corner too fast and we soared over the edge. We were heading down, down, down toward the ocean waves. I remember my feelings so clearly. I felt regret that I wouldn't be living any longer, knew I would miss my children, but felt total peace and acceptance of my fate. I turned to Niel and said, "I love you, Niel." He was just looking over the edge of the car at the deep, deep ocean with panic on his face. I woke up bugged that he hadn't told me he loved me too. He's still in the dog house for that one.

Friday night I had a dream where I had committed a crime of fraud about 90 years ago (some trick since I'm not that old). I was living in England and remembered trying to hide the evidence, something about flushing cigarettes down a toilet...err watercloset. I dreamed about the arrest and my conviction, standing on the docket as they prounounced my guilt. It was all quite dramatic!

Last night I dreamed about finding antiques at a yard sale (which I never stop at, but perhaps I should). There was a pen and a vase that were both just lovely. I felt an instant connection to both objects and believed that I had truly found two items that had been treasures in someone else's life. I woke up feeling safe and fulfilled.

Anyway, I just love dreaming. It's the best entertainment! Ever!!!

Call Me Scrooge

2008-12-25T21:22:00.002-07:00

Okay, maybe I am. But I really don't think I like Christmas. I don't think it's the "most wonderful time of the year." When I was in my twenties and even thirties, I think I enjoyed it more. The shopping, baking, wrapping, parties, etc. seemed such a diversion from everyday life. I'm old enough now and busy enough that I don't need diversions and all of these things now seem like just one more thing to do.

I feel sometimes as if I am so caught up in tasks that I don't stop to live in the moment. While at one party, I'm looking ahead to the next. (And if you read my last blog, you know how I love parties). Finding one perfect gift, while feeling like a great accomplishment, doesn't mitigate the fact that there are still more gifts to find.

So what did I like about it this year?

Madison, Madison, Madison. She has a new thing that she does that just melts my heart. When she sees something wonderful, she opens her eyes wide, purses her little lips, and says in the sweetest voice, "Ohhhhhhhh."

Laurie, Nephi & Shandie home from out of state. In fact the whole family together is such a blessing. I see the gift of time together as a family and the most precious gift ever.

Watching all of my family interact. Sometimes it's just fun to watch them enjoy each other.

The moment when Nephi gave Clayton the replica leg lamp from "A Christmas Story." He had marked "fragile" on the outside of the box and Shandie filled it with shredded paper so it looked like excelsior. Clayton's look was priceless when he pulled that leg out of the box.

Cuddling with Niel in the morning. He was most extravagant and thoughtful showering me with gifts. I'm most spoiled today.

And I have the opportunity to build up the Kingdom of God on the Earth. The ultimate preparation for Christmas!

Parties

2008-12-07T19:12:00.002-07:00

You know, I really don't like parties. Never have. Probably never will. Yesterday, we had a baby shower for my daughter at her in-laws and a company Christmas party. It was a lot of party for one day.

Don't get me wrong. I love people...talking to them one on one or in small groups. And I fully realize the importance of social contacts and obligations. But I always find the party atmosphere, with loud noises and small talk, a bit much.

Our company Christmas party consisted of eating Mexican food in the office warehouse. Only 10% of the people speak English, so the party consists of me smiling and nodding a lot. When I had to introduce myself, I said that I was Johanna and handle the denada. Niel had to correct me and tell me that it's denaro that I handle. And that's just a sample of my Espanol!

It was really cute watching the little kids with a pinata, though. One of the workers brought his little daughters in their best dresses and they looked festive and lovely.

A good time was had by all. And now I only have Niel's family Christmas Party, ward party and Sarah's last baby shower to get through til break time.

Emily asked why I had a weird smile pasted on my face at the baby shower. I don't think I ever realized before just why my face always felt the same way at social events, but now I know. I am aware. I told her that was my polite party face and it was better than just sitting there with a blank look, or worse yet, a groucy face. She laughed.

Anyway, I'm practicing a new party face for the upcoming events. :)

I'm A Bakin' Fool

2008-12-03T22:15:00.002-07:00

It's farewell to Autumn, my very favorite season. It is the perfect season; a final party before the long Winter.

And one of the things Autumn brings out in me is my more domestric streak. You see, I don't usually bake just to pass the time. For some reason, I cannot reconcile baking unless I have a specific reason, i.e. Sunday dessert, holiday gifts, etc. I would never ever get up on a rainy Saturday and say, "I'm bored. I think I'll bake." First, I never get bored. Second, if I did, baking wouldn't be the first thing to come to mind.

But every other year or so at this time, I get in the mood to bake. This year Sarah suggested that we could both bake cookies and then split them between us to deliver to neighbors and friends, kind of a mini cookie exchangette.

And thus it began....the plan unleased my obsessive/compulsive, all-or-nothing psyco side. I can't just bake one batch of chocolate chip cookies and call it good. Oh, no! That's not for me. After a crazy weekend of baking and a couple of more batches tonight I have waiting in my freezer to be handed out to the worthy few:

Orange Sable Cookies, Fruitcake bars, Chocolate chip pecan bars, peppermint swirl cookies, gingerbread swirl cookies, death by caramel bars, honey carrot bars, banana chocolate chip bars, almond sliced cookies, lemon poppy seed cookies, raspberry-walnut pinwheels, and fruitcake slices. I still have iced pumpkin bars and snickerdoodles to go.

Once I start baking, I can't stop. Help!!! S.O.S. 9-1-1! I'm being taken over by my inner Suzie Homemaker. Choking....cough, cough...she's cutting off my air...... Glub, glub, glub.... I hope it's only temporary or I may have to quit my day job!!!

Snoozin' in Sacrament

2008-11-23T19:04:00.002-07:00

I was so tired this morning, but woke up at 5:00 a.m. anyway. Even with another 1/2 hour of sleep between 6:30 and 7:00 (when I had to get up for a meeting), I was beyond sleepy. So the thing is, halfway through sacrament, I cannot...repeat...cannot keep my eyes open. At least I don't put my head on Niel's shoulder (although he'd like that) or do anything quite so obvious; but I hate falling asleep in sacrament. Mostly I hate falling asleep because it's so rude and I worry about the poor speaker who might feel slighted.

In fact, I hate falling asleep anywhere but in my own little bed. I have fought off sleep in work meetings (the worst because the setting is small and it's hard to cover it); Education Week (which made me mad because it was Michael Wilcox and I really, really, really wanted to hear it); the Temple (which is such a wasted opportunity); and airplanes (I think almost everyone has to learn to sleep on a plane or you'll go crazy). But, surprisingly, I cannot sleep in a car.

I didn't used to be this way. I laughed along with everyone else with kids who were caught snoozing in science class. I used to only be able to sleep in a dark room. And now I am broadening my nap places. It can only be old age. I just don't know what else it could be, unless it was years and years of sleep deprivation catching up with me...

Random Thoughts On Tears

2008-11-08T18:18:00.002-07:00

*Why does everyone always say it makes you feel better if you cry? It doesn't. Tears don't heal what hurt you and they don't change any outcomes. I especially hate the ones that make you sniffley and gulping.

*The weirdest time that I remember not crying was when I dropped Sarah off at her first day of college. She was very teary and homesick and I hadn't even left yet. I remember thinking that I had better not cry or she'd lose it all together. When I was driving home, I swallowed and felt tears run down my throat. I realized I had been crying inside, even if not outside.

*I used to cry quite easily. I cried in movies, I cried reading books, I cried in plays. That all stopped probably about 10 years ago. The last time that I remember crying a lot over anything was when we moved. I don't cry so easily now. But when I do, I really hate it.

*I had a boyfriend in high school who would melt at the sight of a girl in tears. I think I used that sometimes. However, it just made my first husband more angry if I cried during an argument; possibly because he never knew what to do to fix it.

*My mother absolutely hated it when I cried. She would call me a ball-baby and say that I was feeling sorry for myself. I probably still do.

*I think I cried all the way through my twenties and thirties. I remember at my father-in-law's funeral crying my eyes out because I loved him so. He was the father figure I never had as a child and now he was gone. My friend, Karrie, told me later that she was amazed that I could cry as hard as I had and look pretty good. She said my eyes weren't swollen and my skin wasn't blotchy. I think that is fair compensation. If you have to spend a lot of your life in tears, at least you should look okay while you're crying.

Where's The Remote?

2008-11-01T03:41:00.002-06:00

Let me begin by saying that I believe that Time is a gift from God. Whether it is our time here on earth, time to learn and change, or precious, precious time spent with loved ones; Time is a gift.

I had an experience years ago, when I was a stay-at-home mom, that taught me a lot. I was sitting in my bedroom and the kids were in school. I said, out loud (mind you, I don't know why I say things out loud when no one is there...), "I think I will waste some time." Suddenly I was impressed with a room full of spirits that had passed on and they were dismayed at the thought of me wasting time they wished desperately they had back. I am ashamed to say, I still wasted the time. Nevertheless...

That's not the point. I believe that we shall account for how we spend our time. I'm okay with that. I really am. But my hope is that I shall get an accounting back. I would like to know how much time in my 50 1/2+ years so far I have spent:

1) In waiting rooms. I figure that between six kids (dentist, doctor, whatever), the time when I was a little girl and had to go to the doctor a lot, obstretician appointments, etc., that I have spent "mucho, mucho" time in waiting rooms. I just want to know how much. And I have progressed from spending the time reading "Highlights" to "People" to "Ladies Home Journal" to "Time" and "Newsweek" back to "Highlights" again. I always loved "Goofus and Galant" and those "Find in this Picture" things.

2) Waiting for policemen to write up the speeding ticket he just pulled me over for. Luckily, the one the other day was quite quick. I think they are really making these speedtraps efficient. But don't you really, and I mean really, hate it when you are sitting there by the side of the road, the policeman's lights are flashing, and everyone who normally would be speeding has slowed down to look over at you as they crawl by, with a smirk on their faces because they know you got a ticket, nyah, nyah, nyah?

3) Looking for things like the remote. Or keys. Or reading glasses. I mean, really! Last summer Niel's boys lost the remote for days; days, I kid you not! My house is so small. There's only so many places a remote can go. How on earth can things like that ellude us for so long? And don't you hate how when you are looking for it, you realize that the area under your couch cushions has not been cleaned for a while? And these days it's not like you only have to look for a tv remote. There are dvd remotes, old VHS remotes, etc. And half of the bells and whistles on our tv won't work without a remote, so the old "Get up and change the channel" doesn't really fly. Why, sonny, back in my day we adjusted the volume by hand and the responsibility to change channels was given to the one lying on the carpet closest to the tv.

In a perfect world, you would never have to waste time looking for the remote.

Time Travel

2008-10-20T00:02:00.003-06:00

I've been time traveling tonight. I couldn't sleep, so I decided to visit 110 West American Avenue, Murray, Utah, as it was in 1970. You see, one of my great gifts is a most amazing memory. As I was trying to sleep, I decided to play mind games. I read once of a girl who was kidnapped and was buried underground for three days. She kept her sanity by picturing in her mind her family decorating and taking down their traditional Christmas tree. She would take out each ornament in her hand, look over it, consider memories, etc. She repeated this exercise again and again. Psychiatrists later told her that exercise was what kept her from going insane during those days of darkness. The mind is a wonderful thing, isn't it? Anyway, I often use such exercises to help me fall asleep. I will decorate a room or picture myself in a garden. But I digress...

Tonight I decided to visit my childhood home. I haven't lived there since 1976, when we moved in February of my senior year of high school. We had moved into the house when I was four years old, so my childhood was spent there and my personality formed by many experiences in that house.

Tonight I entered the living room as it was when I was twelve years of age. The house was a small house, perhaps 900 sf. It had three bedrooms, 1 1/2 baths, no family room or den. There was no basement, just a crawl space under the house for the furnace and plumbing. There was no entry way. When you entered, you were in! The front door was a wood slab door, with a white screen door covering that. In those days, houses had screen doors. It was a must. Central air conditioning was unknown in my neighborhood and even swamp coolers were rare. The screen door allowed a breeze to come through on hot summer evenings. Our house had a southern exposure, so leaving the wood door open during the day wasn't an option.

My mother loved that screen door. I remember her excitement when we got it. The door was one of the few touches that she had been able to add to the house. Most screen doors were a plain steel gray, with the fancier ones having a wrought iron family Monogram in the center. Our screen door was unique. It was a white door, similar to a country barn door on the bottom, with a "x" shape stamped in the metal. The top half had a scalloped edge around the screen. The screen was removable and was replaced with glass when the seasons turned cold. The door introduced my mother's Early American theme.

My mother favored Early American decor and our living room furniture reflected it. She had a curio cabinet that hung on the wall that was made of light maple. It had a clock and shelves to put knick knacks on. There was a single sofa, no love seat, and a wood rocking chair. Most of our playing and TV watching was done from the floor. Luckily, the living room was carpeted. In fact, the living room and my parent's bedroom were the only rooms in the house that had "wall to wall" carpet, such a luxury in those days. We had a huge wood stereo on the east end of the living room. It was very different from the sound systems that people have now. The turntable that played lp's was in the middle and you opened a huge wood cover to reach into an area to put on records. The speakers were on each end and an area to store lp's was between them. Our "color TV" was at the other end of the living room. Again, the style at the time was to encase the TV in a huge wooden cabinet. It was such a big deal to have a color TV, and I was one of the last of the kids my age to get one. There was a tiny closet for coats that was perpendicular to the front door. If the front door was open, you could not get to the closet...not very conducive for entertaining.

As a sign of the poor architecture of our tract house, our bathroom was a straight view from the front door. The was not very convenient if you were finishing up makeup or hair when a date came to pick you up. It was a simple bathroom, with a tub, medicine cabinet on the wall, and space in one corner where we had a wooden rack that my mother hung hand washables on.

Our bedrooms had vinyl flooring, not tile; but a solid sheet of vinyl with a horrendous, huge raised floral design on it. I believe it was sort of a mauvish-gray color. I remember my sisters and I used to rub crayons over paper to copy the design. I can't imagine how hard the floor would have been to keep clean. However, it was rarely cleaned, as my mother struggled with housekeeping. Therefore, it must have been truly filthy.

My parent's bedroom was off of the living room. My mother kept a huge, blue trunk at the end of her bed. It was filled with mementos of her past. She bordered on being miserly with her memories. It was a rare instance when she opened her trunk and allowed us to see the bounty within. Among other treasures, there were pictures of my father in his sailor's uniform, her high school yearbooks, a china teapot, etc. One of my favorite was a large, blue blanket that smelled of dust. I have no idea where it came from. I seem to recall that she told me her sister had made it; but I don't see how since it was a woven blanket. But it was very heavy. Once when I was sick and running a fever, she took the blanket out of the trunk and covered me with it. I loved the feeling of the heavy cover. It felt safe somehow. To this day, I rarely can sleep without a cover of some sort. I remember asking her other times if I could use it, but she usually said no.

Off of my parent's bedroom was a bath with a shower. It was the only shower in the house, as the main bathroom only had a tub. I only remembering showering in it a few times because the plumbing never seemed to be working, and often the room ended up as a junk room of sorts. But I do remember thinking, as a child, that showering was SO exotic! It was much more fun that even a bubble bath because you could pretend you were singing in the rain.

Adjoining that bathroom and the kitchen was the "utility" room. The washer and dryer were housed there, along with the water heater. The back porch was off of the utility room, with a much less ornate screen door.

Okay. It is now almost 1:00 a.m. And my memories keep flowing. And I haven't even gotten to the heart of our house; the kitchen. I will leave it for another time. As I begin to recall these things, I really could make this much more detailed with colors and scents and textures. But I have no idea how large of a post we are allowed to write.

But I will say that if you drive past that little house, which is still there on American Avenue, you will be in awe that a family could raise five girls in such a little house with only one working bathroom!

Reading Glasses, Pimples, and Curly Hair

2008-10-13T21:44:00.004-06:00

Okay, I know a lot of people will say, "You should at least be glad that you didn't have to wear glasses in your teens!" But, that's what makes it that much more unfair. Why couldn't I go through life never needing glasses if I started that way? It makes it much harder to remember them if you didn't always need them. And if I had needed them as a teen, I probably would have gotten contacts. But you really can't get your first pair of contacts when you're beyond middle-aged, can you? And do you know that there are times I have had to have Niel read a menu to me because I forgot my glasses? What's fair about that? And don't get me started on how hard it is to read labels in the grocery store.

And, why do I still get random pimples when I am fifty years old? Shouldn't I be completely pimple free if I have to use reading glasses? Shouldn't there be a trade-off here?

Which (somehow) brings me to curly hair... As a child of the 70's, I was totally out of style. While the boys worshiped Marsha Brady's smooth, silken waterfall of hair, I was stuck with wavy, wavy, wavy. I remember once going to get my hair trimmed and trying to describe the angle of Marsha's hair; but lacking in communication skills, got it all wrong. All I could say is that I wanted it natural looking and not just straight across in the back. My mother, who easily lost patience with me; and seldom understood me, told the hairdresser, exasperation dripping in her voice, "Okay, cut it very uneven and we'll see if she likes it." The hairdresser balked, but my mother was adamant. It was horrible, but I was too stubborn to admit it to my mom and told her it was just what I wanted, thank you.

But back to the curly hair....the waves have gotten curlier with the years. Go figure that!!! I wish I had a dollar for every person who said to me, "Oh, I wish I had your hair." "It must be wonderful to have such curly hair!" "Why do you ever wear it straight?" Well, these same people do not know that curly hair has a mind of its own. On days that my hair is feeling particularly generous towards me; yes, it will fall in a wonderful cascade of curls. On days that my hair is feeling somewhat persnickedy (which is more often), it will choose to do "it's own thing." "It's own thing" can be anything from making me look like a bushman (sorry, Bruce), to curling on one side/falling straight on the other, to looking great with two or three errant locks that persist in sticking out at odd angles. And that's not even taking into account when humidity hits and it just grows bigger and bigger. They could make a movie, "The Hair That Took Over Salt Lake City."

What can I say? Oct. 13th seemed like a good day to whine...do you think Christopher Columbus whined?

I'll Swap 2 Easters, 3 Labor Days for 1 Conference

2008-10-07T11:56:00.008-06:00

There is something about hearing the Word of God born in solemn testimony that waters my soul; it is necessary to my survival. You see, I am a remedial spirit and need a lot of help making it through this wilderness. General Conference is my watering hole. It has not always been thus.

My experiences of General Conference have been most varied. Growing up in Utah, not a member of the Church, Conference was something that drew complaints. All I knew was that it tied up the tv for two weekends of the year. When you only have 3 main channels to choose from (yes, I'm old), that takes a bite. I never watched it, even once...

Until I became a member of the Church at the age of almost 17. My close friends began to talk about Conference and it became a happenin' event. I listened on the radio as I worked Fridays and Saturday's (yes, I am old) and watched it, usually at various friend's houses, on Sunday. It was all so new to me and I was hungry. I loved it. I only tried attending it once, when my friend, Niel, took me up to Temple Square. The Tabernacle was filled and we ended up in an overflow of the old Salt Palace (yes, I'm old) watching it on a screen in the basement.

When my family was young, Conference became a delicious break of sorts. We would watch Sunday sessions in our jammies, sweaters and slippers in the new Autumn cold; capri's and flip flops in the new Spring warmth. Saturday was a catch-what-we-could day in between gardening or yard cleanup.

As Grant and I went through our testimony slump, Conference weekend became the perfect vacation weekend. We might listen as we drove to Vernal (Dinosaur Land) or through Flaming Gorge; but with kids in the van, it was a half-hearted effort at best. I didn't miss or need it at all...or so I thought.

And then life changed. Grant and I both paid the price for our testimony slump and in finding my way back, Conference became a lifeline. I began to look forward to General Conference in a way I never had before. I felt renewed, faith strengthened; a greater will to press forward. I began to hear life-changing talks; Elder Haight's teachings of how to learn in the temple, President Benson's talk on pride, and so on and so on. And, of course, there was Elder Neal A. Maxwell...a class unto himself. My looking forward to his talks became such a running joke in our family, that my kids knew how disappointed I was when he would be "wasted" on the Priesthood meeting. From the time he was twelve, Clayton would come home after every Priesthood meeting teasing me that Elder Maxwell had spoken, even when he hadn't.

When Grant and I were first separated and life was nothing but fear and stress, Conference took on an even deeper meaning. I noticed that the women in the support group I was attending all felt the same way about it as I did. We were starved for comfort and strength and would begin looking forward to it two or three weeks ahead. Returning to our Tuesday meetings the Sunday after Conference, everyone would gush, "Oh, that was the best Conference ever!" And it truly was.

Conference became a must for me, a time of renewal, a time of uplift, a time of learning. When the kids were little (and perhaps this was a mean thing), I would have them watch it downstairs while I watched it on my bedroom tv upstairs. I needed, needed, needed the quiet to hear the messages so much. I could hear their chatter downstairs and knew they always had a good time. One by one, each of them would begin to come up and watch it with me saying, "It's too noisy downstairs. I need to be able to listen." Finally, we moved downstairs and watched it as a family.

Conference took on a level of tradition. Life in the world, as we knew, it stopped. Errands were not run, housework was not done. Conference weekend became a quiet respite from the world, where we could gather as a family in a protected fort. The boys would attend priesthood with their dad and I would take the girls out to dinner. We would have conference candy (a bygone from old Conference Bingo games when they were small) and follow it all up with a Conference dinner where we would discuss our favorite talks. Wherever my children were, be it Logan or Provo; if it were possible they would come home. I have watched as my children have been strengthed by talks; comforting one after a broken engagement, fortifying others while preparing for missions.

Two of my children who were not able to attend this year, one living in Houston, one in Ohio, both called and said they missed being here with the family. I fear that the time for gathering as a family is nearing it's end. Each of my children do or will soon have families of their own. They will need to build their own traditions. And some of ours may morph into new ones, perhaps a pot-luck conference dinner... But as long as I live, some of my favorite memories will be of those times spent watching Conference with my children; learning and laughing and praying with them.

My love for Conference weekend continues to grow each year. I have especially learned to love the Brethren who wear out their lives in our service. Beloved Brethren have passed on and I still miss hearing their voices. And new ones have taken their places with new voices to be loved.

I still rely on Conference; the lifeline never fails. I am still a remedial spirit and Conference still waters my soul. It has become my favorite holiday and holy day of the year.

Wife Swap

2008-10-01T21:08:00.003-06:00

Okay, I admit it. There was a time when the only reality tv I watched was the high brow, PBS, house tv series (1900 House, Frontier House, Manor House, etc.). But TLC took me into a whole new level with "What Not To Wear," "Say Yes To The Dress," and "Date Patrol." And, of course, now "The Biggest Loser" is must-see tv.

But the guiltiest pleasure of all is "Wife Swap." I have always, always, always been fascinated with how varied each of our lives are. How different would I be if I had been born in 1750 or lived in England or grew up with all brothers instead of sisters? How much are we a product of our circumstances?

I do know that you are different depending upon who you married. So if you switched everything else, wouldn't you be different, too?

Well, Lifetime TV now is rerunning episodes of "Wife Swap." In fact, it is running two episodes a day. And with the magic of DVR, I am now wasting all of my free time filling my mind with goo. But I can't help it! The premise is that they take two women, with very different life styles, and have them switch lives for two weeks. The first week is spent living the life of the woman whose place they filled. The second week is spent introducing some of their own beliefs and rules into the home they are visiting. I tell you, it's most entertaining! I am enthralled with the idea of taking a home-schooling, bread-making, granola mom and switching her with a former beauty queen who stays in bed all day; which brings me to...

Who knew that there were so many women who totally subsist as parasites, sucking the very lifeblood of their families? Episode after episode we meet women who sleep until 3:00 p.m., screaming at their husbands to bring them breakfast (or wine!) in bed. Or there are the others who shop, bar hop, or spend all of their time getting manicures, living as strangers to their husbands and children.

Where on earth is June Cleaver when you need her???

And where do they find all of these dysfunctional families???

And is mine one of them?

I begin to think that I've watched too much reality tv when I go out to get the morning paper in my nightgown and wonder if someone is filming me for the "secret footage" to be shown in front of my friends, leaving me mortified and begging for help to get over my fashion flubs. Or when I wonder what the narrator would say about my penchant for never cooking the same meal twice, leaving the bathrooms messy, or letting the girls sneak the cat into the house.

In my heart I know I would be better off reading a good book. But, oh, the mindlessness of it all.... It's truly cotton candy for the brain.

And, I've always loved cotton candy.

Niel, Sweet Niel

2008-09-27T15:22:00.003-06:00

Well, we did it. We survived our first year of marriage...with 12 children between us, squishing into one small home, adjusting to different schedules, etc., etc., etc....

It hasn't all been easy. And you really learn a lot about someone while you are in the trenches with them. I am telling you that Niel deserves a medal, perhaps Congressional Medal of Honor, if that were possible. In truth, I have not adjusted quickly or easily.

However, Niel is loyal and patient and willing to go to the mat again and again. I have never met anybody more willing to work at a relationship and more willing to change and to grow than Niel. And his courage in the face of emotional storms is unmatched.

His ways are definitely not my ways, and sometimes (not always!) his ways are better. We have both changed a little. He watches "Wife Swap" with me sometimes and I attended at least four action movies this summer.

Every once in a while, I look at him and see the Niel I knew in high school. I marvel again and again that our journeys have brought us together after all these years. Finally, I am together again with my good friend.

And, at last, we are again becoming comfortable with each other.

I would be in a foxhole with Niel anytime. I trust him and know he would cover my back.

I Worry, Therefore I Am

2008-09-27T06:36:00.002-06:00

I have always been a worrier. I was blessed (cursed?) with an overactive imagination; but only where disasters are concerned. To save my life, I can't come up with a creative or imaginative idea in any other area. Don't ask me for great party ideas or how to decorate a room. However, Nephi and family were caught in the middle of Hurricane Ike two weeks ago. Listening to newscasts led my mind to a place where I could see them huddled in the dark, wind and rain whipping around them as the house broke to pieces, with Madison crying; only to have the wind tear her from their arms where she could never be found again.

I know, I know. If you are not a worrier, you cannot relate, even a little. C. S. Lewis called worrying an affliction, something that you have to learn to work around. Usually faith is the best antidote. But to tell a worrier not to worry is like telling someone with a lisp, "Just don't lisp."

And the funny thing is that in my life, the things that have been hardest were the things I didn't think to worry about! In fact, so many of the things I have worried about have never come to pass, that one of my coping mechanisms has become, "Well, I've worried about it, so now it won't happen."

But I have found as I grow older that the things I spend my worry on have changed. I am old enough to know that if we have a recession/depression; we can get through it. If I lost my home to fire, I think I would survive. If sickness came to me, it would make me cranky and hard to live with; but I would survive even if the people I loved didn't!

My worries are now spent on people. I woke up this morning worrying about my Young Women. To be called to a position as leader, for me anyway, translates into caring and worry. They are so adorably cute. When we were at camp, we heard them talking in the tent at night, "Joey is so cute. She worries about us so much." I hadn't realized that it was so apparent; but really, they don't know the half of it. I worry about the trials and temptations they face. I worry about their little hurts and their big ones. I worry if they are being taught.

I worry about my kids. Will they be happy? Have I armed them for the storms of life? Will they know how to recover from mistakes? Will they know how to accept happiness?

I worry about my friends and sisters.

And now, with remarriage, I have even more people to worry about.

Don't get me wrong. I do have faith. I know that all of the people I love are in God's good hands. I know that the Holy Ghost can lead and guide and comfort them. But I would spare the people I love hurt, if I could. But that's not the plan...

No matter. For me, I love. Therefore, I worry; therefore I am.

Mothers & Daughters

2008-08-25T21:09:00.002-06:00

My good friend (who is much more eloquent than I) had a post about mothers and daughters on her blog. She spoke of complicated relationships.

Everyone has a different experience, don't they? My relationship with my mother was a very complicated one. But my relationships with my daughters are anything but complicated. My children are the great joy of my life. Perhaps it's the compensation for the other complicated relationships in my life.

If I blog long enough, I expect to write about each of my children. But for tonight, I will share one experience that I had with all of them.

As a single mother, we never had much money for vacations, so we went to exotic places like Provo, Ogden, and Logan. I learned early on that a vacation was any motel with a clean swimming pool. When we vacationed in Logan, we hunted down a ghost town that was listed on a tourist map. We drove hours on a dusty dirt road at 25 mph only to find that the ghost town was a single post stating that the town had once been there. It was quite a let-down, but we did have fun on the drive; doing all the things families do on a trip: bickering, laughing, telling stories.

We found ourselves on the north side of the Great Salt Lake in a very secluded spot. We pulled over close to the shore and got out of the mini-van. Nephi was the only one who dared go into the brine-smelling, salty water. He kept trying to splash the other kids and they were all yelling and squeeling. I remember looking over the rippling water, which was a magical color of purple. The dried salt glistened on the rocks, appearing like diamond after diamond along the shore. The only sound for miles was teen-age laughter. It seemed as if my children and I were all alone in the world.

I remember thinking so clearly, "This is as good as it gets."

It was and it is. There have been many moments with my children since then where I experience the same magic...the hospital room where sweet Maddie was born, the airport when the boys came home from their missions, taking the girls out to dinner while the boys are at priesthood meeting for General Conference. Good times.

I had such a hard time growing up. I often felt that I didn't belong in my family. How sweet it is to now have a group of people who always feel like family. Life really does compensate, doesn't it? In fact, it over-compensates, if you live long enough.

Oh My Gosh, Omaha

2008-08-25T21:01:00.002-06:00

I write this from a hotel room in the Embassy Suites in Omaha, Nebraska. I would love to be a world traveler, but Omaha is going to have to take care of it for this year.

This is actually a nice city. The hotel is right at the edge of Old Town, a step back in history...cobblestone streets and pubs every three shops. I could spend hours roaming around the used books stores, etc. I found a little candy shop that had a whole room devoted to Pez. Although, I really don't like Pez, the room was interesting.

There are lots of record shops in this part of town, not cd's; but vinyl records (new and used). Which reminds me...I wonder what ever happened to all of those 45 rpm records that I collected all throughout junior high. "Baby, Now That I've Found You..." Many an hour was spent bee-boppin to my records.

I love flying on planes, seeing new places...

Childhood Toys

2008-08-13T20:56:00.003-06:00

The other day I received an e-mail about a company that sells John McCain and Barack Obama paper dolls. They even came with an election night score card. Interesting enough the sample they showed had a casual outfit for McCain, but Obama's were all very formal. I don't know what that means. I told Niel that I wondered if the dolls themselves were in their underwear, because all of my paper dolls when I was young were in their underwear. And isn't it a good thing after all that Mitt Romney is not running? Would it be good for him to have a paper doll based on him in his underwear?

But I digress. The subject made me think about my favorite toys as a child. I LOVED paper dolls. I think it was the fashionista buried deep inside the frumpy me that lives today. Also, I loved sewing cards. Does anyone remember them? I loved hopscotch and jump rope, but hated jacks. Oh, and boxes of 64 crayons...especially the blue green, green blue, silver, gold, and copper. I had no use for burnt sierra, however.

What about you? What were your favorite playthings as a child?