Modem Mayhem

No mayhem.
Our modem just isn't working.
So in keeping with the letter of the law which is that I will blog everyday, I am blogging from work (after hours).
This is, however, a very lame post and probably not in keeping with the spirit of the law which is to share thoughts and experiences.
Please accept my apologies. I will try to do better tomorrow although I will probably have to post from work again.
I'll try to be clever tomorrow.

Eggs and Stuff

----- Original Message -----

From: Johnathon Scott Gay

To: Dona GAY
Sent: Tuesday, March 30, 2010 10:58 AM
Subject: Re: Eggs and stuff

Dear Mom

I didn't get the letters you sent but I will probably get those soon. The office has been a little bit slow at forwarding mail lately which may cause an uprising or a  strike if they don't pick it up soon. Anyway, your over compensation hasn't quite panned out yet but it's all good. Yes, my location and companion are still the same and it had better stay that way till the end of my mission. Life on the chicken farm is good. I don't know if it's just cause there are almost 2 million of them but chickens really stink. I don't think you want chickens.

I think I'm just gonna write to Eric and Scott it sounds like they need that more than they need to write to me. But Eric had better send me a letter the DAY he gets his call. Make sure he knows that. I'm also gonna send a letter to Nathan he needs one I need to tell him how proud I am of the TONS of courage it takes to do the right thing. Well, I love you guys have fun watching conference.

You're awesome. Much love,

John.


Thanks John,

I needed that email. It brought a tear to my eye. That could be because I had about 3 hours of sleep this morning or because I am so impresssed with the amazingness of you, or a combination of both. I hope you don't get moved again too, unless it is to your favorite area again. You are right about the letters to Eric and Scott and Nathan. I hope you do that, even if it means that you don't write us a real letter. Your priorities are straight which is an impressive thing for a 20, soon to be 21, year old man.

Dang, I was hoping you would fall in love with chickens and insist on having them.

Love,

Mom

I'll just send some pictures. I'm overdue on that. How many chickens do you want? Any more than 3 is too many in my opinion. who knows maybe they will eventually grow on me. good luck with your class. Get some sleep.

John

Minor Miracles

I know there are people who don't believe in miracles, but I do.

I am not sure where the line is drawn between  minor and  major miracles especially since, as far as I know, those aren't even actual terms or considerations except by me and I'm operating on very little sleep, so keep that in mind.

I do know that I had a little miracle happen today. One of my children left the Children's Friend The Friend magazine propped up behind the bathroom faucet, opened to this page.

There are several miraculous aspects to this.

First, I usually find Calvin and Hobbes, Far Side, Peanuts, or Garfield, propped up all over the house not The Friend.

Second, I don't usually notice content, I just put things away which is what I was doing when I happened to notice the title of the song.

Third, this is a simplified version of a song that the children will be singing in Sacrament Meeting in the fall. It is a beautiful song but the version I was trying to play was giving me fits, literally. I almost threw one in Primary yesterday. I had developed a mental block big enough that people were starting to point and laugh at me... it (the mental block) was visible to the naked eye and/or ear.

 "What's the miracle?" You ask. (If you were in primary yesterday you don't.)

The miracle is that someone was inspired to write a simplified version of this song so that I could love it again, overcome my mental block, and hopefully enable me to help create a more pleasant experience for all of the 3-12 year olds and their teachers on Sundays. All of this just for me.

I think miracles happen frequently. We just need to watch for them and then write them down so we don't forget them.

Back in my BYU days the President of the University was Jeffrey R. Holland. I know that God didn't place him there, at that time, JUST for me. It was probably a pretty good experience for him and his family and the entire student body, but I do think of him as my president, and now, as my General Authority.

One of my miracles happened at a devotional. I was engaged to Scott at the time. Well, not that day. It was one of the several distressing times when Scott had called off our engagement. I went to the devotional and God spoke to me. Not directly but almost, through Jeffrey R. Holland.

Okay, so it clearly didn't just impact me because that talk was published several places, including in this book, which I own.

Miracles. I could go on. But I won't. Maybe I'll post some more on another day.

My friend, Kazzy, does a musical monday post weekly. Maybe I'll call it Miraculous Mondays,  Miracles on Mondays, or something else. I'll think.

I think, therefore I am...tired

I could use a little stamina about now. I have a project due tomorrow night. I want to stay up until it's done but I need sleep. Thinking has exhausted me.

I accompanied the primary children today. They sang a song in sacrament meeting. It is a song that I am reasonably comfortable playing on the piano.   It is a beautiful song and the children know it and sing it well. I started out okay but got more nervous as the song progressed. So at the beginning of the song my hands were steady but by the end they were pretty shaky. Usually I am nervous at the beginning of something but I calm down as I settle into it. Like when I have to speak in church or give a lesson, I start out shaky but that goes away. I wonder if there's a cure for shaky hands. I like playing the piano and I am pretty sure I get points for perseverence but I'd really like it to sound better.

I am trying to avoid comparing myself to others because it isn't productive but I still do it. A lot.  I am especially prone to comparing myself to my brother who is not quite 2 years older than me (1 year, 10 months and 6 days to be precise). It is a blessing and a curse to follow Gerry through life. Piano playing was especially frustrating because I can feel music, I love it. It speaks to me. I just can't play it the way I feel it. Gerry can. I love to listen to him play. He is magical. "Golden Fingers" was what they called him at the Gilbert Jr. High school talent show when he played "One tin soldier" or "Music Box dancer" or maybe both which he had learned by ear. If I didn't adore him, I would hate him. Really. A lot.

I'll just keep pounding away in primary. I am counting on my one talent being turned into two because I have not hid it under a bushel. Sorry to all who might wish that I would, hide it under a bushel, I want more.

(My apologies, It is light that gets hidden under a bushel. Talents get buried. But you know what I mean, right? )

She is Fifteen Going on Sixteen

 

Remember 15?

Was there a more marvelous, terrible, wonderful, horrible, fantastic, frustrating time?

I remember 15, atleast the parts I haven't repressed.

My 15 year old is spectacular.

Not perfect, which drives her crazy, but spectacular.

Now to get her to realize that,

and accept it.

My friend Robin posted about teenagers recently in her post, "I Glory in Teenagers." She made some excellent points. Good reading for anyone anticipating living with a teen, ever.

I just finished reading The Weed that Strings the Hangman's Bag by Alan Bradley. I love Flavia de Luce, the precocious, genius 11-year-old who narrates the book. This was the second novel. The first was called The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie. A very enjoyable read. I really should be sleeping though so, goodnight.

Sisters-in-law

I love the movie Emma, both of them, the Gwenyth Paltrow version and the new Masterpiece Theater version. I have several favorite quotes which differ slightly from one version to the other. I need to read the book and see which, if either, is correct. Of course there is the classic chastening of Emma by Mr. Knightley, "Badly done, Emma. Badly done." And, "Better to have no sense at all than to misapply it as you do." Ouch. Harsh. I also really like,  "Men of sense do not want silly wives."

Pictured here are my 2 Skousen sisters-in-law.

In some ways it feels like I've always known them.

I have seen them both act silly at times but they are not silly wives.

They both manage their homes well, take good care of my nieces and nephews, look out for their neighbors, and love their husbands, my brothers.

I helped influence who their husbands were before,*

They've helped make them who they are now.

They are very good men.

We should all be proud.

Including my brothers who were sensible and did not marry silly wives.

*I could have influenced Grant more if he had talked to me before I was 14 but I did what I could.

Gerry and I had a lot of influence on each other.

Eggs are Tasty on a Tuesday

Last week Amanda's artistic impulses led her to attempt to animate some of our eggs. It's a little alarming, in a fun way, to open a carton of eggs and be met with faces. I insisted on photos of them.

Now fast forward from last week to yesterday (technically rewind). Johnathon's weekly email came with the subject line "eggs are tasty on a Tuesday".

Hello

My week was a busy week. We had lots to do. There are so many different kinds of people in the world it's just odd. A lady we're teaching named Tina tried converting us to veganism, hard core veganism. Some guy wanted to know about the end of the world. And all kinds of crazy stuff. We do have one solid family we are teaching, The Palmer family. And I live on a egg farm with 1.8 million chickens. The owner is actually related to the egg farmers in Napolean Dynamite. I thought that was funny.

Love ya till next week

John

I don't abridge John's letters. This is how they come. Well, sort of. I do some editing; grammar, spelling, a little punctuating.  In this case, I chose not to edit his closing so that you could analyze it with me. It is possible that he is saying "Love ya till next week at which point I am done with the lot of you." Hopefully, what he meant to say is, "Love ya'. Till next week." Just in case it's the former I made everyone write to him today, including me. Are 7 letters enough to restore his love?


                       

Last semester I was in the BYU Library doing some research. I loved being there again. It amazes me that they changed it so drastically and yet it still feels like the same old Harold B. Library where I did homework as an undergraduate 20+ years ago. While I was there I wandered around a bit and came across this quote that was on a wall display. I was feeling guilty for spending so much time on my studies and away from other responsibilities. I was also feeling overwhelmed and wondering why in the world I was back in school.

"For a disciple of Jesus Christ, academic scholarship is a form of worship. It is actually another dimension of consecration. Hence, one who seeks to be a disciple-scholar will take both scholarship and discipleship seriously."
                                                                          Neal A. Maxwell

It was just what I needed right when I needed it. I put a copy of it on my bulletin
board above my desk. I seek to be a disciple-scholar so I am endeavoring to take them both more seriously. I have been doing less than quality work on some of my assignments so now I am getting back on track. I have another portion of an enormous project coming due so I am putting my nose to the grindstone. Hopefully my nose will heal up in time for the family photos we will be taking in June when Johnathon comes home. Those grindstones can be brutal.

I went to Spark for lunch last Friday with one of my favorite people. I wanted to try Spark after I saw it mentioned on CJane's blog about places in Provo. I had never heard of it or noticed it before. I thought it was new but it has been there for a year and a half. Either it isn't very noticeable, or I'm not very observant.  Nicole had butternut squash ravioli. I had salmon. Yum. We split a creme brulee for desert. Yum again.

The dining experience was good.

The food was better.

Time with Nicole was best.

Knitting with Linda Lou

So, I was sitting in church today and somebody said something that got me thinking about something else. (If this seems vague, I'm sorry, but this is how my mind works.) Before I knew it, I was talking to Linda (in my head, of course, not outloud, although I fear that day is coming).

This happens to me sometimes. It is weird, I know. Made weirder still by the fact that my good friend Linda passed away about 10 months ago. But we were friends for a long time and we spent a lot of time together so I got used to talking to her. Sometimes I just listened, so I got used to listening to her. I got used to reporting to her about things that were going on in the world outside of her window. Things like, who's who in the neighborhood, how messy my house was, goofy things my children and other people's children did or said, and who spoke in church and what they talked about, sometimes. I got used to her reactions to some of the things I told her as well as her reactions to things she gleaned from the news and other visitors.  I am getting used to the fact that she is gone. Linda was quadriplegic for 35 years. The last 17 or so years of her life were spent in her room, mostly. Actually, the last year was spent in and out of hospitals and nursing homes, but mostly, the rest of the time, she was at home. Linda was one of my favorite people. That's not to say that we didn't drive each other crazy sometimes. Hence, the conversation in my head today. I don't think I am explaining this well.

Recently I pulled out a knitting project that Linda started years ago. She had stopped knitting because it made her muscles too tense so she gave it to me to finish. I put it away in my pile of projects about 5 years ago. Then, last month, I was looking for something completely unrelated and found Linda's afghan so I decided to try to finish it. (She was a much better knitter than I but fortunately most of it is already done.)

I think I have been thinking more about her lately because I have been knitting her project. Also in primary the children have been singing "Follow the Prophet" and Linda had a great story that she used to tell about Jonah. I almost always think of Linda when I hear the Jonah story---THAT WAS IT! One of the speakers in church started out with a story about Jonah and that's when I started talking to Linda, in my head, of course.

This post makes me think of  the scripture in Mosiah 18:21 And he commanded them that there should be no contention one with another... having their hearts knit together in unity and in love one towards another."

If I am still talking to Linda, in my head, of course, I think it could be that our hearts were knit together in love one towards another. (Most of the time, because there was a little contention sometimes, which just makes the scripture even more appropos, don't you think?)

Violet

My good friend, Denice, blessed our home by coming to visit. She brought along her oldest daughter, Kimberly, and her newest daughter, Violet. I already adore Kimberly and now I have bonded with Violet who was 3 weeks old at the time (last week). There is nothing quite as amazing as a new baby, except maybe old friends. Thanks for stopping by.

I want to start having friends over for tea, or maybe popsicles, or lunch, or something. I think that we are all too busy. I think we all need to visit each other more, without looking at our watches, or cell phones. Why are we all doing all of this stuff that we do?

Revisiting Grandma and Greer

This is a photo of my Grandma Crosby in front of the Library I mentioned in my March 9th post. My brother, Grant, the family history genius helped me track down these pictures so I could share them with my faithful readers. Yes, I know that the sign says United Stated Post Office. She was the post mistress for Greer, Arizona as well as the sole librarian.

This building that housed the post office

was also home to the library and, if I remember correctly, the bunkhouse for ranch hands and the laundry room. Eventually, my older cousins and brothers had the chance to work summers in Greer. My Grandpa ran the store, gas station,  horseback riding stables, and grew an enormous garden on the side of the hill next to the store.

Greer was a great town. I haven't been back in a million years. Grandpa's store is gone now and someone else lives in their old house. The library is in a different building.

Part of me would love to go back to Greer again--maybe I could be in charge of the library there. Another part of me just wants to go back in my mind and remember the flashes of memories that I have carried with me since I was a child. Memories of swinging on an enormous rope swing at the top of Hilltop. It had a metal pole that we sat on and I could feel the wind and touch the sky. The smell of the pines.  The thrill of driving over the cattleguard that meant we had entered Greer, hearing and feeling the bumps. Lying underneath the cattleguard to watch cars drive over it. Going underneath the porch of Grandpa's store to hunt for dropped coins so we could buy creamsicles and listen to unsuspecting grownup's conversations. The smell of the barn and the dark coolness of it when Grandma would send us to gather the eggs. Grandpa sitting by me at the breakfast table making sure I ate every bite of my oatmeal (maybe it was Cream of Wheat). Playing pool in the gas station. Getting a soda out of the old soda machine, the kind with the cool glass bottles and the bottle caps that you couldn't open without a bottle opener (the openers were built into the pop machine). Helping my brother, Gerry dig worms to sell to fishermen. Grandpa let us dig up along the edges of his garden where the dirt was rich and black and loaded with worms. I especially loved the smell of Greer right after it rained. Every once in a while I still get a little whiff and then it is almost like being there again. 

Sad

There are many people that I would love to blog about. There are so many fabulous people in the world of Dona. Here and there I try to blog about some of them when there is a birthday or something important going on. One very dear person, that I have loved since she was born, has had her world turned upside down. I am sad because I know she is sad. I hope she knows that she is amazing. I hope she knows that people in this world and the next are thinking of her, loving her, hurting for her, and hoping for her. I hope she can feel it.

Happy St. Patrick's Day

Johnathon's email came today instead of yesterday. Samantha emailed him about her engagement. This was his response:

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGGG
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGG
I made that noise in the library just now when I read Sam's email. I also grabbed my companion and started shaking him. Alot....ALOT


AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHGg.
I'm so excited I can barely type. I like my new area/comp. I was in zone conference yesterday so thats why I didn't email. AAAHHHH!!!! I honestly don't know what to do with myself right now.
bye

Since I was sitting at my computer when his email came through I quickly fired off a reply:

It looks like they will get married on July 10th in Manti. Very exciting. I am assuming your response was a happy one.
Love,
Mom

To which he wrote:

When did he propose? How? Drinks All Around!! Mazeltoff!! The response is happy. I need MAIL!!! Tell her Happy Birthday. AAHHHHHHGGGGGGG!!!

I recognize that I have been doing a LOT of blogging about Samantha lately. It has been an exceptionally eventful week in the life of said child. For example, today is her birthday. She is not here because she is in St. Louis, Missouri at some sort of English or Honors or something-of-that-nature-conference, presenting some poetry that she wrote last year. She was here three days ago so we had family and friends over to celebrate the big day in advance. It was just serendipity that it turned out to be an engagement party as well.

In case you are thinking that that is the goofiest looking cake you've ever seen let me tell you that it is not a cake. Samantha is not a big fan of cake so several years ago we started fixing pink green lemonade pie instead and the tradition seems to have stuck. It was a pretty yummy pie. (There were 5 of them. They are all gone.)

It was a great evening filled with great people who have been a big part of Samantha's life. Had I been thinking I would have taken a photo of the whole group but I did get a good shot of the celebratory pie.

Happy Birthday to you, Samantha. I have loved you since before they placed you in my arms with that cute little green bow pasted in your hair. You were the start of the best part of who I am, a mother. Thanks for letting me be the mom even when you were, and still are, at times, much more qualified.

A quote for the day

"Heaven must be a place where the library is open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.
     No...eight days a week."

Flavia de Luce from The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie.

Yes, I would have to agree with Flavia. That would be heaven.

Digital

Digital camera's are grand. Remember the old days, when you tried to take great pictures without being able to see what they looked like immediately after snapping the photo? Not to mention the cost and time involved in getting the film developed. It is so interesting to see the things that my children take pictures of. My scrapbooking skills have been lying dormant for a great many years now. Someday they will sprout again and when they do I will have some great photos to put in our neglected scrapbooks.

Blink of an Eye

22 years ago I was 22.
I was graduating from BYU.
I had a new baby.
Then I blinked.

Now the baby is 22.
She's graduating from SUU.
She's getting married.
I'll have to warn her about blinking.

Summer Wedding?

Any suggestions, recommendations, advice, etc on how to properly and thriftily plan for and execute a summer wedding reception would be greatly appreciated.

Carpet

I really want new carpet in my basement. This carpet is 20 something years old and I think it is time go get a nice, sturdy, shaggy type of carpet. But, if we were going to do that we would need to change the 90's wallpaper and paint the walls that haven't been painted in 20 years. Well, unless you consider fingerprints and occassional fits of graffiti a form of painting, in which case our walls have been painted MANY times, as recently as today. It would be one of those not really knowing where to begin or end sort of projects and that doesn't fit into the budget, financially or time wise. So I'll just declutter some more and straighten things up and remember how lucky we are to have a good, solid home and little people that I adore "painting" wherever they go.

Spring Break

Next week is spring break at UNT. I have decided that I am going to get ahead in my classes. I have mapped out a schedule. We'll see how it goes. I am also trying to get some serious decluttering done downstairs. Again, we'll see how it goes. I should take a picture but it's embarrassing. When I clean I like to get everything out of every corner and out from under every couch, chair or shelf. I have started the process and pulled lots of things into the center of the room so it looks really, extra bad at the moment. This family room needs a LOT of work.  Maybe an after picture. It won't be fancy but hopefully it will be functional.

Johnathon Update

The latest news from child #2 :

Mom,
This week was Out OF CONTROL!!
My friend broke his engagement. I still want to come back to the mission but I don't need to be back quite so soon. I found out that I am getting transferred AGAIN! To Pasco. We had a baptism on Sunday and there are 3 set up for this weekend that I'm going to miss. My new comp is going to be Landon Harris who is from Springville. AAAARRGGGGG. I need Mail!
Johnathon

Let me explain. Last week he wrote and said that his friend would be getting married on June 11th in Portland, Oregon and wanted him to be a groomsman. So he was trying to figure out a way to go back after he returned from his mission on June 1st. Now he doesn't have to figure that out.

Here's the thing about my oldest son. He resists change. He is EXTREMELY flexible up to a point and then he's not. He has been highly adaptable his whole mission. It sounds like he is complaining about being transferred and about his new companion in this letter but he's not. What he is upset about is the fact that someone has moved his cheese. He thought he had the rest of his mission figured out. When I talked to him on Christmas Day he was pretty convinced that he would spend the duration of his mission in Yakima with the companion that he had. Now he has to change his mind set and that is what he is protesting. He will be fine. He will do well, as soon as he can wrap his brain around the unexpected change. It is very exciting.

I am DEFINITELY writing him a letter. A real, actual, not cyber letter. The kind that requires a stamp and employs the use of the U.S. Postal system.

Grandma Crosby

I wonder how much our ancestors influence us. It makes sense that we inherited physical traits from them but what about preferences, interests, thought processes. One of my friends thinks that what those that came before us did and liked and felt is still a part of us and influences who we are. I give that idea some thought from time to time.

My Grandma Crosby loved libraries. She started one in Greer, Arizona and maintained it for many years. I have one of the books that was in it. Little House in the Big Woods. I don't have a lot of physical items that belonged to her. She had a lot of grandchildren but I am glad that I have this book. The book makes me feel a little bit of a connection to her. She and her husband also served a mission in Austrailia in the 70's. Part of their assignment was to travel around the country to set up meetinghouse libraries.

So is my obsession with books, reading them, collecting them, organizing them, a learned behavior or is it in my blood? I wonder.

Parables

My friend Lauren posted on her blog tonight. Her nephews are going to shave their heads to raise money for their cousin who is in cancer treatment right now. From Lauren's blog I clicked on the link about Tali, the little cousin, and read some of the posts that her mom and dad have written. I was so impressed. One of my favorite posts was "least likely...." from February of this year.

The Dad (it actually sounds more like the mom writing but at the bottom it says posted by William) writes about an experience he had with 2 girls that came to sell something at his door. He couldn't let them in because they weren't letting anyone around Tali, so he talked to them on the porch. These were girls from a rough, inner city neighborhood that were traveling with a company selling magazines. The girls ended up giving him some of their money and told him they would pray for Tali and his family. He wrote on his blog,  (I hope it's okay to put it on here. I give him full credit and highly recommend a visit to Tali's blog)

"Oh, what good can be done in this world by the least likely people, in the least likely ways, and in the least likely places!
And don't we all fit that description?! Aren't we all the least likely? Don't we all fall victim from time to time to that unfortunate thought that there's nothing we can do to change this world for the better?"

 It is such a great story and so, so, so inspiring. It brought to my mind the "parable of the divers" from Stephen Robinson's book, Following Christ. The author tells about how when he was a child they had a diving competition. Some of the kids had all of the finesse and technique down perfect. Some other kids came and did trickier, more difficult dives but without as much polish. When the scores were given the divers with less finesse won. The fancy divers were frustrated and pointed out the flaws of the scrappy divers and asked why their scores were higher. The answer was, "degree of difficulty".

It is good to know that our ultimate judge will take into account "degree of difficulty". I think it is incredible that in the middle of a difficult time Talitha's parents are seeing miracles and helping others. It is equally amazing that these two girls were able to reach out with compassion despite the difficulty of their own circumstances. I have a tendency to slip into survival mode when things are tough. I forget to watch for, acknowledge or express gratitude for the tender mercies that abound.

Home sick

My two little boys were sick today, just hacky coughing, yucky noses, shouldn't-be-around-other-people sick, nothing major. I stayed home from church with them. It was a quiet day, peaceful but it always feels different when I don't go to church. I miss it. I play the piano in primary. I would like to be a better piano player so that I didn't embarrass myself so often but other than that it is a perfect calling.

I spent a ridiculous amount of time playing with my blog . I tried a bunch of different templates. I worked on the picture that goes with the blog title and tried to come up with a different title. But what?

Walking Home

I walked home from work tonight. It was a beautiful night. It was windy, I love wind, and a little cold, but not too cold. I really do like walking. I like night. It was about 7:oo but it felt later. I should have taken a picture but I don't know how to capture a perfect, cold, windy, spring night walk in a photo.

You're a Homeschooler When...

1. You ask for, and get, a copier for your anniversary.

It's true. I yearned for a copier for a very long time. I did not get it for an anniversary. I found our first one at a yard sale. It was so great but my children photocopied their faces, hands, toys, etc. So it died. Then Scott located another one. Very useful.

2. The principal can give the teacher a pat on the behind and its not harrassment. No explanation needed on this one.

3. Your husband can walk in at the end of a long day and tell how the science experiment went just by looking at the house. Life is basically one long science experiment, wouldn't you say? It is at our house.

4. Your neighbors think you are insane. This could very well be true but fortunately our nearest neighbors are also insane and, in fact, we sometimes take turns supervising each other's insanity.

5. You can listen to your child's favorite passage from Hank the Cowdog 47 times. This one is not peculiar to homeschoolers. I know of many long suffering public school parents that this one applies to as well. Although, not necessarily that particular book/series.

6. Your kids learn new vocabulary from their extensive collection of Calvin and Hobbes books. Talk about hitting the nail ON THE HEAD. You should see our hammered collection of Calvin and Hobbes. They love to read them while they are eating especially. There is still some bitterness over the fact that Corban is Corban not Calvin. Then there is that whole Hobbes nickname adopted by camper girl.

7. Your formal dining room now has a computer, copier, bookshelves and there are posters and maps all over the walls. I don't have a formal dining room but my front room is as described.

8. Talking outloud to yourself is a parent/teacher conference.

That one is my personal favorite and frighteningly true in my case.

9. Your favorite gift is a gift certificate to a bookstore. Well, duh. That one applies to lots of people I know. Homeschoolers do not have the market on that one.

1o. You live in a one-house schoolroom. Cleverly put.

                                                                                   Author unknown

A long time ago, 7-10 yearsish, I came across this list. I did not write it and I don't know who to credit it to. It is applicable to me and I am counting it as my homeschool post for this week. My comments are the ones in red.

Just me and my shadow

Here is a photo of my shadow. I took this picture in St. George in February. It is a LARGE shadow. I would like for my shadow to be less large. So, in the spirit of daily blogging, daily home school (with weekly blogging), and soda abstinence I would like to hereby add in a daily walk with a monthly shadow picture update. This will be fun, just wait and see. Atleast a mile every day. Wish me luck, fortitude and self-discipline. Thanks.

"That's very googley"

I have been feeling guilty. My sister likes to refer to me as the family guilt receptacle, a distinction I have earned over the past 44 years. If medals were awarded for the depth, breadth and speed at which I internalize guilt I would win multiple gold. Some of the guilt has been well deserved and this is one of those instances.

Confession: I intentionally used my blog as a manipulitave tool to draw my little sister's attention to me. It was pathetic and cheap. I am not proud of it but I am oh so happy that she is reading my blog and making comments! I feel so connected. As an added blogging bonus, big brother, Grant, is reading and making occasional comments as well. It makes me feel very googley, a term that I picked up from Grant's design blog. I use it here as a nod to him and as a slap in the face to my master's program that looks down on the use of google for research purposes although I find that it is often an excellent place to start.

Sorry Sarah, my bad. Thanks for reading my blog guys, "that's very googley". And that is a sentiment, from the heart, that I hope any of my other 5 or so faithful blog readers can feel as well.

observations

We do have a lot of cats, hundreds of cats, thousands of cats....Yesterday, Corban was standing on our side porch for quite some time observing the cats. After a while he came back into the house and told Amanda, "I don't know what the cats are trying to tell me." He can be a little intense sometimes.

I am thinking that I will drop my attempt at nicknames. I forget to use them sometimes and I haven't come up with good ones for some of my people. Plus, I'm just really tired so I'll think about it some more tomorrow.

I am feeling Corban's frustration, but amplified. I've been standing out on a porch (metaphorically) observing life for a while and I don't know what life is trying to tell me.

Johnathon's address

If you want to write a missionary, here are Elder Gay's addresses. I am sure he would love to hear from you.

johnathon.gay@myldsmail.net

The address to the mission home, which is where he likes for us to send his mail is:

Washington Kennewick Mission
8656 W Gage Blvd #205
Kennewick, WA 99336

Tuesday is his p-day.

I did email him this week just so I could dodge the "worst mother of the year award" that was coming my way and I will send him an actual, hands-on letter this week.