Arizona

These are pictures from my trip to Arizona in May.

I am itching to go again.

I do love a good road trip.

I want to take my children on a vacation.

I want them to travel the road that I traveled so many times.

I want them to love Arizona like I love Arizona.

Which they can't do unless I take them there and tell them things.

Grandpa could give them his infamous tour.

He is a native afterall.

My children are native to Utah--so far.

Who knows where they will land?

Parachutes, Weddings, Collisions, OH MY!

Not only have I really wanted to post lately, I feel like I need to post. So here I am. Want to know what pushed me back over the edge into blogland? Well, several things.

1. My niece jumped out of an airplane. That inspired me. In my head I actually thought, "If Nicole can fly, so can I! But not with a parachute, with a pen." (Well, not a pen, but a laptop.) http://poppinsko.blogspot.com/ Yes, she's crazy. In a good way.

2. I was studying late, at the library. While I was studying, I was eating almonds and chocolate. Eating almonds and chocolate made me think of my Aunt Myrna. I am just sorry for all of you Aunt Myrnaless people bumbling your way through lives devoid of knowing one of the most joyful, loving, giving, jolly people. There may be somewhere, someone equally as pleasant and jocular but there is no one, anywhere more so than she. While I was thinking of Aunt Myrna another actual, clear thought came into my head, "I need to blog about Aunt Myrna." Aunt Myrna is a phenomenal person in her own right but she just happened to give birth to one of my other favorite persons, my cousin, Carla, who could do no wrong. I was going to grow up to be just like her. I could go on and on--more blog topics for other days.

3. Then there was that fabulous event in July where Samantha and Brandon were officially and marvelously married. The hitching went off without a hitch. Seriously, not even a hiccup. Well, okay there were a few hiccups on the otherwise most perfect day ever.
All of this portion must be read in a very fast, very low mumbly voice like the people on the end of the commercials that are rattling off the disclaimers about all of the possible ways you can die if you use their product
I temporarily lost my cell phone at a critical juncture in the day, my dad wasn't able to come, I weigh about 1000 pounds, my youngest children will behave shockingly like children and look disgruntled in the one and only family picture I have had in about 5 years. (I would have thought they would be overjoyed to finally be in a family picture where they are visible, not still in my womb--preconception.) 
The days events were brilliantly and beautifully photographed by Jennifer Grigg, yes, THE Jennifer Grigg, and should be where they can be seen by all so I have been thinking, "I need to post some photos on my blog." Of course, I have actually been thinking that since May when the engagement photos were taken.
4. I am back in school and it is moving much like a bullet train--very fast. "What's that up there on the track? Dang, it looks like an oncoming train! Yep, sure enough". That oncoming train would be my job. Unfortunately both trains are packed with members of my family, close friends, any semblance of spirituality I once may have almost thought I had, homemaking skills, gardening, tennis playing, summer hours spent with my children at the swimming pool. (I taught all of my children how to swim except for Jeremiah and Corban who, I am afraid, secretly doubt that I know how to swim. Or maybe they think that I'll melt, like the Wicked Witch of the West. [Could happen.]  Scott has taught them. [to swim, not that I'll melt. I didn't catch that until I reread it just now--very funny. punctuation does matter. Not that anyone could tell that I understand that based upon my incredible overuse of parenthesis.] He has done an amazing job but "WAIT! That used to be my job. Didn't it? Wasn't it?" It was until I got on that blasted train.)
So, back to the two trains that are on a collision course with eachother, I am thinking that blogging will be a good buffer, stress reducer, a type of therapy if you will. I am hoping that it will act as a lever to switch one of the trains on to another track sort of like that horrible movie they showed in Seminary. The one about the dad who was a switch operator for a railroad and his son comes running on the track to tell him to come home. The dad has to choose between the train full of people or his son.--In the case of my impending trains colliding however, there isn't a person on the track there is just the other train. Hopefully my magical blog/lever/switch will put one of the two trains smoothly on to another track and they will both just travel safely until they arrive at their respective destinations.)

6. My loyal friends and family who would occassionally, very nicely ask me if I was thinking of maybe blogging again,ever, can be given much credit, or discredit, depending on your perspective, for my return to blogdom.

7. The most awesome, brilliant and inspiring bit of advertising that I have seen since the good old Dr. Pepper commercials. Check it out, if you haven't already on the incredible singing devil's blog. http://unwillingcougar.blogspot.com/. I watch it several times a day because it makes me happy and because it's in a library which is where I spend all of my time these days. This particular library is where I used to spend a lot of my time many, many moons ago. Brilliant.
I might go watch it again right now.

Those are just some of the reasons I have returned to the land o' the blogs. So here I am again! We'll just see how it goes.

Identity Crisis, sort of

Sometimes, lately, I find myself thinking to myself, "This is not who I am supposed to be." Hmm. What does that mean exactly? I am not entirely sure. This recurring phrase pops into my brain at the most random and sometimes unexpected times. Like, today, for example. I was driving home from some serious errand running. I turned onto my street, that I love. The day was beautiful, everything looked fantastic, super-imposed, brilliant colors, early dusk (one of my favorite times of the day). Boom. There it was. That thought. What does it mean exactly? I don't get it.

I've had the thought while at the grocery store, at church, at home, in my room, on a walk, there is no rhyme or reason to when the thought will present itself. It just does. It is extra weird because I think that I am essentially happy with my life. Very strange. I will continue to ponder this cryptic message to myself from myself.

Johnathon

Here's the latest on the Johnathon front. He comes home on June 1st. The countdown has begun!

Hello,
I had a good birthday. We went to my ward misson leader's house because it was also his wife's b-day so that was fun. We have someone scheduled for baptism on June 5. Tell bishop Skinner that I will speak with him on the 13th. Do you know what my topic is on the home ward talk? My week was normal other than the fact that I'm 21 now and I wasn't the week before.
Talk to you later.
John.

I did pass my class. But I no longer have a 4.0 G.P.A. It was short lived. My 4.0. Just one semester. It felt nice, but a little strange. I like to think the "B" in my 4 credit class represents balanced or bully, as in "bully for you" instead of bad or boo (think Princess Bride).

The fact is, I am in a funk. I haven't felt like I could blog in my present state of funkiness but now I have determined that it may be a potential cure, a shot in the arm or the behind, so to speak. I'm going give it a try.

Yes, I know. I have failed in my daily blogging attempt but I believe that repentance in the form of an occassional double dose of blogging can be applied in this situation. I'll make up for the days that I missed. Eventually.

 Aside from not quite finishing that blasted, never-ending IOP that was due tonight (I need to talk to database support as soon as they open in the morning), and being "under the weather," Mother's Day was very nice.  My children and husband showered me with love, books, poetry, flowers, handmade cards, storebought cards, and served me a lovely lunch. I was also acknowledged for my motherliness in a blog (thanks Nicole) and a text and a phone call (Johnathon). I feel undeserving but enjoyed the accolades none the less.


I did not, however, return the love to the motherly women in my life, so tomorrow, promptly upon finishing up that dreaded IOP, I will belatedly wish much happiness to those who I neglected today.

Be Still

My future son-in-law is reading Jane Eyre, a particular favorite of mine, although it has been several years since I've read it. That is one that would be worth rereading, again, which would be rerereading. He wondered if people really conversed like that back then. I think they did. I think that they spent a lot more time talking to each other. I think they had more time. Ironic because now, with all of our time saving inventions we seem to have less time. Obviously, I am generalizing. I am sure there were many people in the 1800's who went through life without any meaningful conversation. But, they didn't really know better. We do. We just have so many distractions. We are all busy. I don't think that a meaningful conversation has to take hours but it does require focus and active listening. My friend, Kathy Evans, majored in the home and family sciences. I remember her talking about how some of the best conversations can occur when a parent and a child wash dishes together. Both people are stationed in one area and focusing on a task that leaves mental awareness available for communication between the two workers. Some types of yard work accomodate this sort of conversation as well.
Be still. What a concept. It is a requirement for relationships with deity, families, friends, neighbors, and self. People who know how to  "be still" stand out. It is almost like time stops or slows down around them even when they are moving fast.

I'll try to remember. Maybe a tattoo...no, probably not.

What words can be used to describe 16?

Sweet,

Silly,

Sad,

Scary,

Smart,

Simple,

Sydnee

Traveling

Drove home from Arizona today.
It was a great visit and a great trip back.
I do love a good road trip.
My brother, Grant, who I was traveling with likes to take the scenic route. So do I.
If you have never taken the cutoff through Johnson Canyon before, you should.
It goes through the town of Alton, Utah.
My niece, Hannah was thrilled beyond measure to discover that at the Subway in Panquitch the girl who made our sandwiches tessellates the cheese.
Much happiness all around.
Grant took lots of great pictures. Unfortunately they are all on his camera.

Another Johnathon Update

This weeks letter--

Mom

I'm going to call at 3:30 your time 2:30 here. Last phone call. I went tracting in a sandstorm yesterday that's probably the funnest thing this week so far. That sandstorm was nuts. Other than that I'm taking care of myself. My comp has just about talked me into taking Kung fu when I get back. Walters is good kid. I like him. Talk to you Sunday.

John

(Photo taken May 28, 2008--Just yesterday)

LAST WEEK'S LETTER

Today is my 23 months day. Wo dude! Thats crazy. Yesterday I bore my dying testimony in zone conference which is why I didn't email but it was a narly experience for me. The bike I came out with broke like a year ago. It basically blew up, so I'm not bringing home a bike. We're teaching some nice people and some crazies, mostly trying to get the ward members to help us out. Someone in particular we're teaching is Teresa Huckaby a nice lady, 73 years old.  I think she is our top progressing investigator at the moment. Well, I'll talk to you later.
Love,
John.

Graduation

I loved BYU. I knew from the time I was 7 years old that I wanted to grow up and go to BYU. At that point my motivation was the fact that my cousin, the person I adored most in the world, Carla, went to BYU. My family started going to BYU every summer from 1975 to around 1980 or 81. We would stay in Heritage Halls during the summer semester. We had great times and it further instilled in me the desire to attend and graduate from BYU. I never considered any other University. I mean, I knew there were other schools, my dad was a professor at a junior college in Arizona, I could have gone there for free, but my heart was set on BYU. Eventually I did attend and graduate from BYU. It was good. All three of my siblings graduated from there too. I still love BYU...Occassionally I go back to campus for various reasons, it feels like going home again. I thought my children would end up going there as well.

When child #1 was deciding which school to go to she was invited down to SUU. So we went down to tour the campus and talk to some of the professors. I came away from that totally convinced that SUU would be the perfect place for her to go. She did too. Matt Nickerson is the advisor over the Honors program at SUU. He is a brilliant educator and atleast 50% of the reason I was rooting for SUU.

Today she got a high 5 and a photo with him. That was worth every single trip to and from Cedar City, even the trip that included my first speeding ticket in 25 years. The motto of the SUU Honors Program is "Got Passion?" The world needs more people like Nickerson, people with passion for what they do and with a passion for passing it on to others. I'm glad to say that Samantha caught it. Look out, she's a carrier.

A Place of Her Own

Tonight I am in Cedar City. I had the chance to observe child #1 interact with some of the people she has worked with and learned from for the last 4 years.  Also today, I read her honors thesis. In it she compares her growth as a writer to her growth as student and person. I realized as I observed her and read what she wrote that she had found a place where she belonged. She had made a life for herself and it was good. Coming of age, finding herself, coming into her own. Whatever it is called, she accomplished it and now she is ready to move on and do it again. But wherever she goes now she'll always take the feeling of belonging with her because it isn't a place it's a state of being.

IOP re-revisited

Still
    working
                on
                      it.

IOP again

I know that BYU and SUU and UVU are all having finals and finishing up this week but UNT is still going strong for another 2 weeks. Tonight I took a quiz and I've been working on that marvelous, magical, magnificent IOP again. Preliminary draft 4 is due tomorrow night. Wish me luck, again. Thanks.

(This blog post should be read with a slight edge to your voice, you know, the "Huh, isn't life just great, I'm just barely hanging on, please don't step on my fingers, ouch that hurts, tone of voice" that is generally reserved for when your house is disaster and company drops in unexpectedly, or you run into your old boyfriend in Albertsons when you are looking particularly pathetic, or your child just said or did something very embarrassing in front of a large group of unsympathetic people. I could go on, but I won't because, you see, I have this IOP due.....)

Day 82

82 days of blogging in a row!
Only 283 days left to go.

FABP

The Flowering Almond Bush was in bloom today so we attempted the annual  Flowering Almond Bush Photo aka FABP. We experienced a little miracle that Samantha happened to be here this weekend, unexpectedly. So it looked like we would have everyone present, with the exception of Elder Gay who is occupied on the Lord's errand in Washington State which is an acceptable excuse for missing the yearly event.

We have started initiation procedures for the fiance. We explained the importance of being available around this time of the year, every year for "the photo session". He seemed a little startled at the prospect. Actually, I am not sure how to proceed with this tradition. Should I try to make everyone return annually as my progeny grows or should I just exact it as a price paid by those living at home at the time and all others are excused?

Over the years we have had guest appearances in the FABP. We have had years where cousins, grandparents or friends were included if they were so blessed as to be present on the Sunday that the bush is in bloom.

Let's do a head count.

#1 plus her husband to be, "here" and "here"

#2 Johnathon (excused absence),

#3

*Conspicuous silence*

  Yep, we were missing one.

To #3's credit, I did tell her that #1 would be available until 4 or 5 but then #1 had to leave sooner than that.

(Some story about finals and wanting to study so she could do well...)

To #3's discredit, she had an unexcused absence on the day of the FABP, a very serious offense.

Any suggestions for a suitable punishment will be duly noted.

She was off exploring the beauties of nature and didn't return in time.

She certainly looks guilty but sort of repentant so I guess I'll let her off for good behavior, or something.

Here we are. Almost all present and accounted for.

Don't we look spectacular?

Happy Spring everyone!

Wow

After work today my mom and I drove to Provo to meet daughters 1 and 3 who were dress shopping. Wedding dress shopping.

Very exciting.

She found one, with able assistance from her little sister.
Wow!

It is beautiful.
She is beautiful in it.

After a wonderful dinner at Zupa's,

We left Samantha in Provo with her boyfriend fiance.

On the way home we were discussing events in the one-week-from-being-16-year old's life (daughter #3)

A recent negative encounter with her friend who is a boy has left her feeling angry and, dare I say, vengeful.

I was trying to suggest that it is generally best to err on the side of kindness when this poem popped into my head, just as my mom started to recite it outloud.

I have wept in the night

For the shortness of sight

that to somebody's need made me blind.

But I never have yet,

felt a tinge of regret

For being a little too kind

                             --Author Unknown

 Weird. (I must have learned it from my mom.)

But applicable.

I love it when I find out that I have something like this stored in my memory banks. It is my hope that if I go senile these are the sorts of things that I will say to my grandchildren when they come visit.

 I hope to be pleasant in my old age which is approaching rapidly as indicated by the fact that I have a child old enough to be out shopping for, and successfully selecting a wedding dress.
Weird.

I do try to remember to err on the side of kindness, but I am not always successful.

So, I'll keep working on it, and for those of you who have felt my lack of kindness from time to time, I apologize.
Unless, of course, you deserved it.

Nothing

There is nothing.

No words.

I'm not sad

or depressed.

Just tired

All of my words are being used for other things.

Maybe I will find some more tomorrow, at the library.

There are lots of words there.

I'll bring some home to post with.

If I remember.

And if there is room in my brain

or my heart

or my bookbag to carry them here to my blog.

A motto

Let's make better mistakes tomorrow.
                              Sarah Skousen Tippetts

I am unashamedly stealing tonight's quote from my little sister's blog. http://nestexploredesign.blogspot.com/ She actually has two blogs. One is her family blog and the other is her design blog where she highlights her work and/or design ideas she likes. It is brilliant, because she is brilliant and amazing.

I love this quote because it gives permission to mess up. In fact, it doesn't just give permission, it encourages and supports error. I love it. I think I might make a sampler or a throw pillow or something with it. Maybe it will be our homeschool motto. I've been trying to come up with one for about 15 years now. I'm not proud. My sister can be responsible for my motto. She named my blog for me too.
This quote makes me thing I should revel in the mistakes of today and I need that. I tend to review things in my head and beat myself up for things I wish I had done differently throughout the day, week, year(s), life.

Let's make better mistakes tomorrow.

Yes, let's.

Jen

My friend Jen.

You know how when you were a child you thought you would grow up and be friends with the friends that you had back then? I did.

I thought I would live in Arizona after a 4 year stint at BYU.

But I didn't go back to live in Arizona and I never see any of the friends I grew up with.

I reconnected with a few, briefly, on facebook but it felt shallow and weird to me so I gave it up.

Jen and I have been friends for 15 years.

Our children are friends.

 Her husband is a friend to my husband.

Sometimes we all do things together, not so much anymore because the older our children get the more complicated life gets.

She's older than me.

She's smarter than me (ACT scores don't lie).

She lets me borrow her car when mine doesn't work.

She looks out for my children.

She reads nonfiction.

All of the best photos of my children were taken by her (or my cousin Carla).

I think I might be a bad influence on her.

Sometimes she gets homesick for Texas because that's where her family is

but I'm glad she lives in Utah because life wouldn't be the same without her.

We rock

Dear mom,

 I'm glad to hear that your week was good. Mine was pretty good but I'm losing my companion and I'm pretty bummed. My last transfer starts tomorrow and that is freaking me out. Its gone by so fast. Good things are happening in my area. I think we'll have some successes soon. I think you've been married longer than you haven't. Anyway life is still good and above all the church is still true. You guys rock.

Love,

John.

                        

He didn't explain any of his pictures but I'm glad he sent some. I feel like there is a story behind this picture in particular. It will be good to hear what it is someday.

I would walk 500 miles

My friend Maggie started training for a half marathon, maybe it is a full blown marathon. She looks fantastic and she says she feels great.  I have had the beginnings of feeling like I should really engage in some consistent physical exercise regimen for YEARS. 

I just don't want to be this person anymore. And by that I mean, this person that can't seem to commit to something and stick with it. I see people engaged and focused and consistent all around me and wonder what is wrong with me?

I read somewhere recently that for every child a woman has her risk of obesity increases 7%. Which if you count my 3 miscarriages, that is a 77% risk. I know a lot of people who have had multiple children who aren't overweight. So, I think that study is sort of bogus. How did they even determine such a thing.

Back to Maggie and the marathon, I think it is amazing that she is doing it. I need to find something that motivates me like that. I would like to run a 5 or 10K someday. (I'm not sure that I have a marathon in me.) But I am pretty sure that my body would rebel in some pretty major ways if I were to attempt to take up running at this juncture.

I can, however, commit to 10,000 steps 4 days a week and 15,000 steps 3 days a week. It is more than the mile a day I was going to do according to my March 6th post. I kind of haven't been keeping up with that so well. But, tomorrow is a new day and I can start with counting my steps and work up to jogging later on. So that someday I can be cool, like Maggie. Well, probably never that cool.

23

Today was our 23rd anniversary.

Weird, because that is a long time.

Easy to remember because we have been married one year more than Samantha's age (barely).

We got new wedding rings last night.

At Wal-Mart.

I like them.

My original wedding ring is too small but I refuse to have it sized up because I intend to size down.

Scott's wedding ring wore out after about 5 years. It was a beautiful brushed gold band that couldn't withstand all of the years of landscaping and mechanics.

So we have been sputtering along with what ever we could find to wear on our ring fingers for the last 10-15 years.

Our new rings are titanium, to withstand whatever Scott comes up against at work.

They spin, which is cool and they say "Forever and Always".

Sort of sappy.

Scott, who isn't really a movie buff, surprisingly, alluded to the song from Napolean Dynamite in the parking lot at 1:00 a.m. Great, that makes me LaFawnduh.

AND

It might be time to get a good photo of the two of us because there really aren't any.

I mean, not that don't have other people in them, or that are good.

I have a general dislike for photos of myself but I'm just sayin',

it might be time to take a couple for the sake of our posterity.

These photos are from Disneyland in December

Also, I can't remember if I mentioned this before, it seems like I may have, but I have now been a married person longer than I was a single person.

Scott and I have had some challenges and some triumphs.

I'm glad that I made him marry me.

I hope that our next 23 years of marriage will be like our new rings---

Practical.

Functional.
A little spontaneous.

Shiny.

A good fit.

Strong as titanium, to withstand whatever we may come up against.

And true to the engraved words, always and forever.

Choices

Our lives are a sum total of the choices we have made.

- Wayne Dyer

Own all of your choices.

I read quite a bit. There is a lot of truth to be found in a lot of places.

I have had this quote on a post it note in anticipation of it becoming a blog post.

I believe that our lives truly are a sum total of the choices we have made....mostly, somewhat. I also believe that, fortunately, God has contingency plans for contingency plans for contingency plans....

So, in truth our lives are a sum total of the choices we have made + gentle nudges from the Spirit that come to us and for us+ forgiveness+divine intervention+tender mercies of a loving and all knowing Heavenly Father and His Son.

Let me give an example.

Behold this sewing machine.

 (Actually, this sewing machine cabinet, but the sewing machine is in it and still sort of operational except something is wrong with the tension.)

It belonged to my Dad's mother, my Grammie Rhoda.

She purchased it in the late 1920's or early 1930's.

She was actually making payments on it and had fallen behind on her payments.

At the time she had three children but the baby, DelRoy, passed away.

They had a small viewing in their home. Grammie used this sewing machine to place the baby's body on. 

It was at this time that a man came to repossses the sewing machine. He came  into their home. Saw the baby. He could not bring himself to take the sewing machine and told Grammie to keep it. 

Coincidence?

I don't think so.

 I think it was a contingency plan for a contingency plan...

Mercy was extended to my Grandma in a difficult economic and emotional time.

If she had been current on her payments she may not have felt the forgiveness and mercy proferred in this act, and the man, whoever he was, would not have had the opportunity to extend it. Or if this man had used the classic "business is business" approach and ignored the promptings or intuition that he felt and had taken the machine, which was his right to do, I wouldn't have this beautiful piece of furniture/heritage in my home to remind me of God and his contingency plans.

I believe that we get to choose whether to accept the gifts, blessings, miracles, and even trials that come to us with a grateful heart or not. Actually, first we get to choose whether or not to even see these things.

It is all too easy to chalk things up to coincidence when in fact it is God working one of his contingency plans, for a contingency plan.......for us. For you. For me.

My #7 is seven

Six went out with a bang and seven came in with one. No whimpering around here.

So far we are loving seven.

A simply spectacular cake courtesy of his sisters.

Grandma Sylvia fixed us all breakfast and brought over 7 presents centered around a bird theme,  3 birdfeeders/houses, 2 bird books, bird food all culminating in the traditional rice krispy treat shaped like......

You guessed it! (No, not a bird) A seven.

There were gummy worms involved and consumed in the festivities which always help us remember Grandpa Howard and his penchant for pulling gummy worms out of children's ears. (Sounds gross, but everybody always loved it!) Plus the gummy worms even fit in with the bird theme Grandma had selected and run with. Because birds eat worms and, I don't think Grandma took her theme to this extreme, but Jeremiah is one of my early birds and so he does get the proverbial worm that is the prize of early risers. (Or so I've heard).

 I was not fast enough or my mind nimble enough to document the Grandma Sylvia event photographically. I will try to remedy that over the next few days by capturing pictures of birds flocking to the birdfeeders. If the cats don't scare them away.

The rice krispy treat 7 was gone in a matter of minutes so there will be no photos of that forthcoming.

A very late lunch, could be considered dinner, was enjoyed at the resturaunt of Jeremiah's choice. That would be McDonalds. The one in Spanish Fork because we haven't been to that one in a while.

When Dad came home from work we sang Happy Birthday, with some help from our neighbors, ate cake and then it was off to WalMart for a little shopping.

Now at 1:00 in the morning we are calling it a day. A fun day. A memorable day. A let's all please go to bed now day.

Happy Birthday to you, Jeremiah!

Names

Tonight Corban named Samantha's future children for her. He is thoughtful that way.

Here's how it happened.

It all started with Amanda cleaning her room, from TOP to bottom.  In the process of cleaning she did a substantial amount of decluttering. A truly magnificent thing to behold. I am considering using her room for company instead of the front room. But I digress. In the throes of decluttering she came across things that she knew I would want so she brought those things down to my room. Mostly odds n' ends. Lots of books and other things like this friendly little mouse bookmark. Cute. Cuter before we actually had real mice inhabiting our basement but still cute. (I believe that Scott and the little boys have successfully rid our living quarters of rodents. Thank goodness.) Again, I digress.

 This cute little pair of baby shoes are a particularly important item that ended up in my room today. These were Amanda's. She had crooked feet when she was born. They were put into casts when she was just a few months old. After the casts were removed she had to wear these shoes for a while. She knew I would want to keep them so she put them in my room. She went outside a little later and found them on the side porch. Hmmm, weird. So she brought them back in. I was studying in my room when Corban came down, saw the shoes, picked them up and started to leave with them.

Me: Where are you taking those shoes?

Corban: I am taking them to ________(the neighbor) for the little baby.

Me: I don't want you to give those away. I want to save them for when Samantha   has a baby.

A reasonably long discussion ensued about me and who my babies were. Followed by this dialogue.

Corban: We will name Samantha's baby for her.

Me: What will we name her baby?

Corban: First we will name one Sarah Phillips. Then we will name one John              Washington and then another one John Washington.

Me: Are you sure you don't mean George Washington?

Corban: No, I mean John Washington and John Washington.

I called Samantha so he could let her know. I bet it is a relief for her not to have to worry about what to name her children.

Corban is quite pleased with himself.

six

 Hurry Jeremiah!
Seven is hunting for you.
We don't want it to find you yet.
(Or atleast I don't want it to find you yet.)
Six should last longer.

Hide!
It has been so much fun and you have been so good at six.
Does it really have to end so soon?

What?
You want a birthday cake with 7 candles?
I know I said when you are seven Johnathon would come home
but I thought that it would take longer.

Okay...
I'm sure you'll be a spectacular seven year-old.
I won't make you hide after all.
You can come out from under the bed and we'll enjoy your last day of sixness together.

Blueberries

               I really like blueberries. There do not seem to be any around right now. I miss them. I am not positive but I am pretty sure that the blueberries I usually buy come from Chile. So that deepens my sadness about the lack of blueberries because I am lacking blueberries due to the devestation of an earthquake. People's lives were changed forever. I wish blueberries for me, for them. When I have blueberries from Chile by way of Cosco or Reams it will mean that maybe things are getting back to normal for the Chileans.  Maybe the blueberries are just off season, but I don't think so, I have been watching and there just aren't any.

Let's all pray for blueberries, really yummy, sweet ones. Or maybe we should pray for the Chileans and then the blueberries will return.

Faded Photo

Faded Photo

Posed in front of a shed,

a small wooden playhouse,

four children remain frozen.

Two sit on the step:

one boy, one girl.

She, in a short, pale-pink dress,

her smile two-year-old simple.

His hair won't lay down,

his face set in a distracted stare.

The two older boys

stand to either side

in stripes and plaid

grinning wide

one dark brown and one ginger-carrot

unaware, at five and seven,

that half-lives exist.

Samantha Gay (used with permission)

George

April 11, 1974 is

the day my brother died, and in some ways, life as my family knew it, or thought we would know it, died too. Not immediately. It happened in degrees.

For several years after George died, Mom would want us to remember him so she would have us look at his baby book and write or talk about our memories of him. She would make his favorite cookies, date pinwheels. It was hard to know how to respond.

Just like it was hard to know how to respond when people would ask me how many brothers and sisters I had. "Three, but one died." Which was always awkward for the person who had asked, and for me, but I always felt guilty if I just said, "Two", like I was leaving him out, like he didn't count anymore. But he did count because even though he was gone, his absence still had a presence to it.

His absence was there even though we moved to a different house where he had never been. I remember feeling it when I would go on walks with my dad and when my mom told me she was going to have another baby. The feeling of his absence overwhelmed me at girl's camp, up in the mountains of Arizona.

My children know they have an Uncle George. Sometimes my parents talk about him. My dad calls him "ol' Georgie boy," and even after 36 years can't speak of him without choking up, (but he's notorious for that, teariness)

Sometimes I talk about him. My children have seen pictures.

Something strange. When I look at pictures of him, intellectually I know he is an 11, just a month shy of 12, year-old boy. I know that I am a middle-aged, grown woman who has 5 children older than he was when he died, but I look at those pictures of him and I don't see a little boy. I see my older brother.

Last year, my oldest child wrote a series of poems about George from all of the different family member's perspectives at that time. She captured so much of the emotion and the experience. It is almost like she knows him. Like he is still present in his absence.

I think that for my parents one of the hardest things about losing their child was the feeling that eventually no one would notice the day that came to be one of the most pivotal days in their lives. And that people would forget this person that meant so much to them. 

I used to always try to call my parents on April 11 to let them know that I am thinking about him and about them and about how things were. I didn't call this year. Maybe I should have. This year I blogged instead.

See Mom? I remember.

Hale Center theater

Scott and I were able to go see Dirty Rotten Scoundrels at the Hale Center Theater in Orem this evening thanks to the generosity of Mr. & Mrs. Brother and Sister-in-law. So kind of them to invite us out for such a very entertaining evening. It was a spectacular performance.

Here's a little known piece of trivia for your evening's enjoyment. There are 3 locations for the Hale theater. One is up by Salt Lake City, one is in Orem and the other one is in Gilbert, Arizona. Isn't that quite a coincidence? The valley I grew up in and the valley I have lived most of my grown up life in each boast one of the rare Hale Center Theaters. I am thinking of season tickets for a Christmas gift to myself next year or maybe I'll give them to Scott, either is equally self motivated but the latter will accomplish the goal of giving Scott a present.

When Johnny comes marching home

What will I do when John comes marching home again and I no longer have his letters for respectable blog post filler? I really was stumped for a topic last night. It was nice to have the email. It even came with photos.

I also like to use quotes to build a post around. Tonight I decided that I would just open one of my picture files and find something to post from it. I came across this quote that I loved. It was in a book by Elizabeth Berg, The Art of Mending, which I read about three years ago. The book was okay but I thought the quote was spectacular. One of my children had played with it in some paint program and somehow it ended up a random presence in my photo files.

Let's all meet in that field. Soon.

Washington update

Hello
I got the mail last week thanks for that. How was conference? I think it was one of the best ever. Last time I took lots of notes and I'm actually excited for the Ensign next month so I can study it. Weird I know, but I am. did you notice any "themes" from this conference? What were some of your favorite talks?It's weird cause next conference I'll be home. isn't that nuts? Anyways here's some pictures of me thanks for the mail!
John

There was a time in this young man's life when I knew everything about him. I knew his schedule, what he ate for breakfast, lunch, and dinner (that was an easy one--cold cereal),  and had obtained for him every article of clothing he owned. I realize that he has been gone for nearly two years. I no longer no what he does, where he goes, or what he eats. As to what he wears, I recognize the suits but he sure has a acquired a lot of ties I've never seen before. He looks good, doesn't he?

The rat race

The trouble with being in the

rat race is that even if you win, you're still a rat.

      --Lily Tomlin

      
I have been pondering this quote for a couple of days. It is funny and it is true. I find myself acting like a rat all too often. It bothers me when I do. So I should stop, acting like a rat. I think the quote is sending the same message as "we should be in the world, not of the world."  It isn't possible to avoid the rat race but we should be in the rat race but not be a rat, right?