“Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before!

What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store.

What if Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more!”

-Dr Seuss  

Christmas is most definitely my least favorite holiday.
And I believe I can explain this with a few short words.
unfulfilled expectations
commercialism,
disappointment


No matter how hard I try to change my mindset on Christmas...discontent rears its ugly head.

When ones love language is so NOT 'gift giving' , Christmas  becomes a little dreadful and a burden. When ones love language is 'spending quality time" or 'acts of service', then you can see that Christmas hasn't gone  well for me, (or my family) for many years.

My dream Christmas, since my family began, is to bag the gifts and go away, board a plane, or pack into cars, and spend the time and money making memories that will last forever.  (who remembers what they got for Christmas last year?) To not be buying gifts that will soon be forgotten, or that leave the recipient feeling less than satisfied...or wanting something different, or feeling that's its a lame gift, or that someones elses gift is better...and on and on... Its all nonsense and weighs heavily on my heart when I go to bed after the brouhaha of Christmas.
My simple solution:
Maybe next year will be the year my 'fantasy Christmas' will materialize.
Plane tickets for all instead of socks
Beach house instead of jewelry
Service instead of gift cards
Memories instead of electronics
No regrets or unfulfilled expectation, only joy and great memories.

PS- my kids are GREAT! This is not their problem or their fault. I was born this way.  MyBuilder is the bonified spirit of Christmas in our house. I would have thrown up my hands in defeat years ago if it weren't for him. Bless him!!

An Indian legend holds that celestial hunters

turn the leaves yellow by cooking meat over

an open fire and splattering fat all over the 

trees.  

Western science offers a less colorful explanation:

the leaves simply stop producing chlorophyll, the

chemical that makes them look green(and nourishes

the tree).  Yellow pigment that has been over 

shadowed all summer by the chlorophyll now 

emerges from hiding and becomes dominant.

In other words, the leaves' warm-weather makeup

wears off to reveal the natural surface

underneath; yellow is the leaves true color. Try 

using that explanation next time someone remarks

on your graying hair.

from: Buck Creek

tripod.com

THis photo was taken before the excruciating back pain of last week and before the hellish snow and wind of this week.  It was taken when autumn was fun.  Girls were adorning my hair with the largest leaves they could find from off the school yard.   As I said it was when autumn was warm and inviting.
Then the Universe pulled a fast one on me.  Last week I was completely incapacitated with back pain...pain like I've never experienced before.  Thank heavens its now subsiding...in time for the arctic  weather to rear its ugly,cold head.  In time for me to now stand out on this same school yard for an hour at recess...grumbling quietly under my breath and shivering like those autumn leaves were before falling to the ground. Now Im a planning a shopping spree to the nearest sporting goods store for real winter boots and under armor!!  Gym shoes wont cut it here in Logan Utah and nether will my beloved shorts....in the winter.  Its dang cold!!!

I do not believe that the inscrutable

universe turns on an axis of suffering;

surely the strange beauty of the world

must somewhere rest  in  pure joy!

from: The Artist Way

by: Louise Bogan

For some strange reason this picture of yummy butterscotch pudding made me cry this morning.
I've  realized that I am Not taking the time for the simple pleasures much any more.
Good and generous loving friends and family are my life line and I have been leaning heavily on them of late.
When was the last time I made butterscotch pudding for those I love and for myself?
Here I sit, wondering when my life is going to start again...
And its happening all around me.

When am I going to STOP seeing my glass half empty?
and go back to seeing my glass overflowing!!
What am I waiting for!!!??
A home?
For the perfect job??
For perfect weather?
Till I have a dog?

If you know its going to be a slog anyway,

why not choose to slog your own slog rather

than slogging someone else's slog?

from: Put a Cherry On Top

by: Ben Behunin 

    

Change is inevitable. And things are ALWAYS changing. Clark woke up one morning this week and said it was time for a change. ...that it was the day for a hair cut.
Many, many people are so pleased by Clarks 'transformation'  I love this mug no matter what.  I loved his long curly locks...and I now love this GQ look too.  And I love imagining their future... the changes that are in store for them as school begins soon..in far away Kansas City.

Big changes are in the works for me too.  They feel like big changes...again.
Im packing my bags..saying good-byes...and will be heading north again on Thursday.  I tell people that Im either landing in Salt Lake or Logan this time.  But deep in my heart I think Ill find myself back in Logan with my Builder...where I belong. (NOT in Logan...but with My Builder.) The 'experiment' of long distant relating didnt work as well as I expected. Marriage is hard enough..putting 600 miles between us was just not healthy or helpful. Im hoping for what wont feel like a step backwards, and find myself residing in Logan again..but if its necessary I will find a way to be happy about it!! There are two adorable grands there..and people I love very much.  There are probably 2 more months of decent weather in Logan...I should take advantage of that. But  I'll be doing my best to find our way to Salt Lake before winter hits in any way I can too.
If I 'feel' it in my future...it'll happen.

 My neck and Nora Ephron's thoughts on aging....

 “Our faces are lies and our necks are the truth. You have to cut open a redwood tree to see how old it is, but you wouldn’t if it had a neck.”

 “Oh, how I regret not having worn a bikini for the entire year I was twenty-six. If anyone young is reading this, go, right this minute, put on a bikini, and don't take it off until you're thirty-four.”
 ― Nora Ephron, I Feel Bad About My Neck: And Other Thoughts on Being a Woman

“Here are some questions I am constantly noodling over: Do you splurge or do you hoard? Do you live every day as if it's your last, or do you save your money on the chance you'll live twenty more years? Is life too short, or is it going to be too long? Do you work as hard as you can, or do you slow down to smell the roses? And where do carbohydrates fit into all this? Are we really all going to spend our last years avoiding bread, especially now that bread in American is so unbelievable delicious? And what about chocolate?” ― Nora Ephron,

 “…the amount of maintenance involving hair is genuinely overwhelming. Sometimes I think that not having to worry about your hair anymore is the secret upside of death.”

 Your cleavage looks like a peach pit. If your elbows faced ­forward, you would kill yourself. You’re two inches shorter than you used to be. You’re ten pounds fatter and you ­cannot lose a pound of it to save your soul. Your hands don’t work as well as they once did and you can’t open ­bottles, jars, wrappers. If you were stranded on a desert island and your food were sealed in plastic packaging, you would starve.

 “I don't think any day is worth living without thinking about what you're going to eat next at all times.”

 “There's a reason why forty, fifty, and sixty don't look the way they used to, and it's not because of feminism, or better living through exercise. It's because of hair dye. In the 1950's only 7 percent of American women dyed their hair; today there are parts of Manhattan and Los Angeles where there are no gray-haired women at all.”

 “I look as young as a person can look given how old I am.” Nora Ephron

Its empowering, insanity, therapeutic and liberating all wrapped up into one post.  When I first viewed these photos that Jenna took I was horrified. Its apparent that old age has set in...my neck is giving me away!! But Im trying not to care.  How can I when the joy and blessing are all over my face as well...grands make it worth it!!

Love your enemies, bless them that curse you,

do good to them that hate you, and pray for

them which despitefully use you and

persecute you;  that ye may be the children

of your Father which is in Heaven.

Matt 5: 44-45

What do you think?
Do I lead either a good, 'safe' life....or a very boring life?

The DMV issued me this form...proof of my boringness...or some might wonder at my luckiness.

No arrests

No citations

No trouble

Ho Hum

But I need to rant.
It was a day that looked as though it would be full of social injustice's...for little ol me.
Why did Washington County move the DMV out into the middle of nowhere!!!?? Seriously!!! The vacant fairgrounds and the prison are its only neighbors!!  What were they thinking!!??  And then to have to pay for proof that Im boring...that Im a great driving risk....umph! They could have just asked me about my driving record. What happened to trust and a honest hand shake?

Then to add insult to my already inflamed sense of inequity... My next stop had to be for a drug test!!! (My drug of choice is Pepsi...if that counts.. I'll fail...hands down.)  So I found myself at yet another dysfunctional governmental institution run by people who can't  seem to think for themselves or ease the way for anyone.  I had the privilege of waiting ONE AND ONE HALF HOURS for the honor of peeing in a cup. It was a WorkMed office..whatever that means...and I shared the waiting room with only several dozen men....no women. (what was that about!!!??)
All this to prove I dont take drugs...
Dont they know ...I lead a boring life? I had proof...my driving record was still fresh off the presses in my angry, tremulous hand!!

This was not going to be a banner day.

BUT WAIT!!

SUDDENLY IT WILL BE!!

June 6th, 2014 will now be known as the birth date of our newest baby girl grand!!!

Evelyn May is here!! Healthy and beautiful...just like her mom!!!
Welcome little Dolly!!!
It suddenly doesnt matter a jot...all the time I wasted this morning...fuming and muttering about the incompetence I had to endure.
A miracle has occurred...Evelyn is here!!! 

“I do believe in God. I think God has given so much power

 to people, and intelligence, and said, 'Well, you are on your

 own. Maybe I'm tired, I need a nap. You are mature.

 Why don't you look after yourselves?' 

And I think He's been sleeping too much.”

from: Strength In What Remains

by: Tracy Kidder

This is me again..being an infant on the subject of prayer.
I visit this topic frequently.

So here it goes.... again.

I doesnt matter what I want, or what it is I think I need. It seem futile to me to 'ask' for anything. For as I understand things, God knows best, and I do not. God has the big picture. I do not.
So what is prayer?
The other day..while attending Stake Conference, I heard the speaker make an analogy for prayer. He used the symbol of a racquetball. He asked us to  picture  hitting a racquetball softly against the wall of the court, and to imagine how slowly the ball would then return to us.  Then he asked us to picture us hitting that ball with all the force we could muster, and to then imagine how quickly and forceably the ball would come back at us. His comparison went on...as he asked  us to envision  us lying down at night and mumbling a prayer without heart or intent..a weak plea, a weak hit.  How would the return look?  Then he asked us to think about an ardent and forceful, humble prayer...and couldnt we then imagine a 'return' with greater force?

Im asking....Does deliverance influence God in any way?
How does one pray with force when one already knows that its served back to us on the 'opponents' terms? (I cringe at the term 'opponent' for I dont believe on any level that God is an opponent. But go with me a bit more on this) So Im thinking that prayer isnt so much like racquetball as it is like tennis.  We are in control of the velocity of the racquetball we hit...but the wall is inademate.  In the game of tennis, we are at the mercy of our opponent and how he decides to lob the ball back at us.
Personal example:
Asking with force, fervor, tears, pain to have our business grow enough to support us, has been  an on going battle of wills for 2 years now. As a matter of fact...4 'players' are sending up that plea. God is listening. I believe that He is.  And yet He serves to us what He pleases.
And can you picture the pleading and anguish that God hears every night as we plead for the cure for cancer, or for  help with struggling kids?!  I suppose the return serve comes back..but its unrecognizable most times... its out of our league, and its never usually a forceful, record setting event.
Prayer is so very, very, very, very hard for me. Im not a fan of  vain repetitions. Im not much of a conversationalist either. If God already knows the answer before I ask...why ask, I ask?  I know He knows my heart, and I feel confident that He has already decided what to do in my "game."  No amount of pleading is going to make a difference. (and what if I were to ask amiss!!!??)
I already know that Im here on this earth to learn patience, humility and more patience. I've known this for a very long time. My game seems to be learning how to be happy in each moment, even though these moments look nothing like I expected or planned on.
Again,..will my asking God to help with kids who struggle have an affect on the  kids who also have a game plan not of my understanding...who have the right and gift to choose what they want?  They have choices and God has a plan for them. My prayers wont and maybe shouldnt change their 'game'.
My best attempts at prayer are always the thankfulness prayers, the gratitude prayers. Those come easily for me, and I suppose its important to be thankful.
Its the asking thats so very difficult. Its just like asking anything of my earthly father...its difficult. ( Counseling may be order)
Life is what it is. I suppose Im a bit of a fatalist. God has set me on a course, to prove and to try me. I have to make my way through...with as much gratitude as I can muster and with some flavor of hope.
Shall I pray for hope? Maybe thats the answer.
Stop praying for change; for money or puppies, or trips ...seriously though..I dont pray for these things...just success and happiness. Instead I should pray for the feelings of hope, and for peace where Im at. I could probably hit that prayer/ball right out of the park!!!
God...please grant me hope. Hope in the future..hope for the kids, and hope for friends who struggle with insurmountable trails and battles with cancer.

H-O-P-E

I think Im going to find a ball,...and write in great big letters with a Sharpee across it....H-O-P-E, and tuck it under my pillow.

One must ask children and birds how

 cherries and strawberries taste. 

- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe 

I've become alarmed.
Im into my 8th day of experiencing a nasty cold.
What's  seriously alarming now is that I cant smell.
I hung sprigs of eucalyptus in my shower.  Its a favorite scent of mine. Warm steams heighten its fragrance.
I cant smell a thing.

I have a new candle that I burn in my window when I write.
I cant smell a thing.

I test the contents of the salad bar with my nose every morning...to check for freshness.
I cant smell a thing.

Anna changed Ben's dirty diaper just inches from me.
I cant smell a thing.

I brew the first pots of coffee in the morning before we open the doors.
I cant smell a thing.

But let me be clear. Not smelling my world isnt half as bad as ...NOT BEING ABLE TO TASTE MY WORLD!!!

Is the best pizza in town still the best pizza?
Is Pepsi still the best drink ever devised?
Does cheesecake delight my taste buds as it should?

NO THEY DON'T!!!

I cant taste any of it.
This is disturbing, to say the least. Why eat at all if you cant enjoy all the flavors and combinations?!
I squooze a lime on my pizza this evening, and I couldnt identify it.
Im quite freaked out about this recent development.
Will my taste buds recover?  (Can you hear how hard Im trying to suppress my panic!!!?)

My Builder has become a drug pusher...it quite annoying.  I know he's just trying to help, but I fear that there's nothing in his little medicine basket that can help this.
I pray that this is just a temporary misfortune,  and that I'm experiencing yet another lesson in gratitude and patience with the absence of these finer senses.
May the gods of good health smile on me once again.  For I dont need yet one more reason to blame Logan, Utah for disaster.

p.s- Even though I've been trying hard lately to loose some weight that working at the Grill has added to my waste-line...this is NOT the method I choose!!

p.s.s.- I have noticed, and you may have as well, that my tagging system for my posts on the right has seen an increase in the number of posts written under the heading, "Here's Me Complaining" I apologize. I truly am trying to not always be whining.

p.s.s.s.- I am positive that My dear Builder will be alarmed with this post.  He just spent precious money on a lovely dinner for me, that I faked enjoying.  Im sorry my love.  Just know that half the pleasure of the night was just being out on the town with you.

Peace

"I will go forward. I will smile at the rage of the tempest,

and ride fearlessly and triumphantly across the 

boisterous ocean of circumstance, and the 'testimony

of Jesus" will light a lamp that will guide my vision 

through the portals of mortality."

-Eliza R. Snow***

2 nights ago I received a text from my daughter while they were out on a date at Sams Club.
The text said this: "David's not done with school till next December...just fyi."
(David has always said that he will be thru with school in May)
I wonder....
What were said daughters' motives in sending a text with this information?
Did she not want to witness my reaction?
Did she choose this method because she's chicken?
Or was it because the sight of tears in a grown woman, especially her mother would make her queasy?

I didnt respond to the text.  She experienced the sound of crickets in the night.

This is my official response:

YIPEE

you may insert assumed inflections, sarcastic sneers, and tone....whatever you feel applies...knowing me.

***Oh dear, dear Eliza...why cant I be blessed with one particle of your resolve and determination to make lemon bars from sour lemons!?!?

Because Promtheus had stolen fire from the gods, Zeus decided

 to punish mankind by sending them Pandora, the first woman.

She had every gift- beauty, charm, skill in women's work-

 but she was a "tempting snare"and a "nagging burden."  Before

 she came to earth, men lived happily, untouched by troubles

 and disease. Pandora, whom Zeus made "to be  evil for mortal man,"

was she "from whom comes the fair sex; yes, wicked womenfolk are her descendants.

from: Theogony -Hesiod

quoted in: Sisters at the Well

(the only reason...besides the need for money...to go to work each day is this fine woman, my dear boss!)

My Builder has discovered a way to ease my load at work.
One morning, quite by accident, he discovered that I haul down 20 heavy chairs from off the tabletops and roll out nasty rugs before opening the Grill. (among other things)
Now each morning when My Builder drives me to work, (I havent worked out the bus schedule from here) he parks the truck and comes in to help me.
He does the chairs and rugs and now seems to get a thrill in turning on the shake machine.
Bless him.

My Builder may do this to ease some guilt?
But mostly he behaves like this because he is a true gentleman and he loves me.  (He may also be afraid that my uterus might drop out...due to all the heavy lifting.)
Im very appreciative.
But I guess I'd be more appreciative if I didnt have to work so hard.
I'd be thrilled if the rabbit food business could begin to support us.

I'm wary and worried already about my bad attitude...again.
Things could prove to get a lot worse for me here soon,  very soon.  Snow and much colder weather is on the horizon...no thats incorrect, its at my front door already.  Cold weather alters my mood.
Winter is my plague, and its already here to stay.

Truly there is no upside to winter, no matter how hard "winter-lovers" try to beef these  next months up in their minds.

Winter Lovers speak with fondness of  Fireplaces, and hot chocolate, sledding and skiing and cute sweaters,  hats and gloves. (all indicators of Hades.)

Summer Lovers like me long for laid back BBQ's and cold Pepsi, beaches and hiking with flip flops and shorts.

Dont Winter Lovers notice the puddles at the back door and all the extra clothing it requires to stay warm?? What about the extra expense for said warm, itchy clothing and heating!!!??

I would rather mow the lawn and live in shorts and sandals..plus- YOU CAN GROW YOUR OWN FOOD in the warmer months!!

oH WELL..
hear my sigh...
This too shall pass, eventually...
Meanwhile I'll take My Builders help whenever I can.
His service warms my heart.

Peace

Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens.

from: The Fellowship of the Rings

by: J.R.R. Tolkien

TROUBLE IN THE TERRESTRIAL KINGDOM

(OR ...A SHORT REVIEW OF MY WEEK)

Gravity...the movie...a joy ride!! Trouble in the outer atmosphere! An intense and stunningly beautiful journey. 

Our front yard looks like a bomb went off...as it indeed did...a bomb named Raymond. Raymond the well intentioned but inept landlord. My Builder could write a book about this mans ineptitude in home improvement projects. The front yard will never be the same. Never.

Money .. a quote from my last Sunday School lesson..."I dont like money actually, but it quiets my nerves."  My nerves could stand some calming.

BEN HAD A COOKIE AT CHURCH!!! A cookie made with white flour. oh my

We made grand plans to start putting in some food storage again. There are lists.   Im doing my part by collecting 5 gallon buckets from work. I have plenty of buckets...but nothing yet to put in them.  

Logan had a 3.6 earthquake this week. I missed it.  Anna...my worry wart...did not.  

My Builders elbows and shoulders  are complaining.  Repetitive work is tough.

The government shut down has come and gone. I didnt notice a thing.  Utah saved its own prime resources...and opened up our 4 National Parks, with our 'own money." When there's a will, there's  a way.  Maybe Parks should privatize?  

Storm windows have gone up and new functioning weather stripping has been installed. (note above- about a bomb named Raymond) Battening down the hatches represents impending doom.

The last raspberries have been harvested from the garden.

So long to short sleeves..not because its getting cold...but because I now officially have saggy skin hanging from  my arms.  Im definitely struggling  towards old age.

There was such an incredible logic to kissing,

such a metal-to-magnet pull between two 

people that it was a wonder that they found

the strength to prevent themselves from 

succumbing every second.  Rightfully, the world

should be a whirlpool of kissing into which we

sank and never found the strength to rise up again.

from: Bel Canto

by Ann Patchett

Love is in the air....
Autumn is as well.

One of these things causes me joy,
The other...a sinking feeling of dread and despair would be a more accurate description.
A surprise visit and our first frost all in a few short days.
Can you guess which one is which?

My youngest and his beautiful girlfriend warmed my heart...
It was a wonderful thing to return from the alley where I was hauling empty cardboard boxes in the recycling dumpster, to see Bri and Mericar sitting in booth #1 just waiting to see my reaction to their secret trip to Logan.
I reacted positively....big hugs and smiles all around!!

The visit was way to short...but beggars cant be choosers...so Im grateful for anything at all.
We chilled, we went to church together and ate yummy meals. They harvested goodies from the
garden..took a leisurely stroll in the canyon around the reservoir  and caught up on some much needed sleep.
Perfect for them.
Perfect for me.

Bless them for making time to come up.
May they be blessed in their school and work and with the process of  becoming even better acquainted
with one another.

Peace my friends.

This Is How My Week Looked

There came a time, he realized, when the strangeness of everything

 made it increasingly difficult to realize the strangeness of anything.

from: Lost Horizon

by: James Hilton

(I wish this was the scene at our house)

The mailbox that hangs by our front door contained a water bill.  A water bill so exorbitantly high that it was cause for serious alarm.  A hole was dug...to investigate.  Come to find out that there is a leak...leak is the wrong word..for that suggest a dripping...a small giser might describe it better...from the main water line to the house. It became the city's problem.  But alas..it seems to be my problem still..for it still spouts water into an unseen underground stream somewhere.  The city has done nothing but put up an orange barrier around the hole and have not returned to repair it.  The tree hugger in me is fuming.  So much water wasted.  100s of thousands of gallons!! And I see no way to stop the madness!!

The  sweet boss lady at work called me the sexiest waitress in the joint.  I know shes lying. (that would be a sad state of affairs if she werent)  But she loves me.  And of course there is a part of me that wants to believe her.

Today's Sunday School lesson gave me fits. (I suppose they all will)  Todays topic was Baptisms for the Dead.
Ugh
But I suppose it'll be a walk in Merlin Olsen Park compared to the lesson coming up in 2 weeks.  The subject matter ... The martyrdom of Joseph Smith.  (Did I already tell you that I dont enjoy the Doctrine and Covenants?) Teaching is even harder than I imagined it would be.

I'm back to the point that I'll give up food before I'll give up my beloved Pepsi. And I often do.  For so long...when I was on the wagon...I would tell people and myself that I didnt want to drink my calories. Well you woulnt recognize me now...as I blissfully guzzle them down now.

Its been quite a few years since I've done any water bath canning.  This week  I bottled some delicious apricots.  They'll help this winter to be a little brighter.  Thats the hope anyway.  They already make me happy, just lined up there on the counter.

The semi-annual Man vs Grill took place this week at Center Street Grill.
There was barfing.
And there were a couple of "winners."
Are you really a 'winner' of you can shove down a 3 1/2 pound burger in less than 45 minutes?
You decide.
I got to clean up.
ps- the grill wins ...the majority of the time.

My Builder promised me a puppy.
But I can't remember how long he said I'd have to wait.

How do you spell T-E-N-S-E?
There is rabbit food news.  There are several very hopeful prospects and possibilities for improvements.  But I cant talk about them....for I 'get too emotional.'  Maybe after it becomes old news I can then discuss it with My Builder. Maybe then My Builder and I can talk again.  The same thing goes for conversing about the future....I 'get too emotional.'  So we dont talk about that either.  What do we talk about?  The promise of puppies and our beautiful grands. That'll do.

More hot flashes.
Less sleep.

WEST WING..out new favorite tv series.  Plus there is no need for talking. We watch, we laugh, we learn. Not a bad deal.  Thank you good actors and writers for such a great show!

Im reading again!!  Im halfway through a wonderful book. Its the one I was carrying around in my purse for so long.  Its a treat.  And all you readers out there have undoubtedly read it already...The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society...(quite a mouth full.)   I can now   check # 15 off the below list.  Whew.

Not a bad week my friends.
Peace

....life is much bigger than we give it credit for, and much of

the time its harder than we would like.  It's a package deal,

though. Sometimes our mouths stay open with exhaustion,

and our souls and minds do too, with defeat, and that saggy

opening is what we needed all along.  Any opening leads to

the chance of flow, which sometimes is the best we

can hope for,  and a minor miracle at that....

from: The Poisonwood Bible

by: Barbara Kingsolver

Tonight, for some inexplicable reason , the cool breeze that blows through my beat up window screen  at the head of my bed, which in turn causes the crusty window blind to tap quietly against the sill, is striking a tender cord in me and might just cause me to weep.

Surprisingly, it was "hot" today in Logan.
The temps may have risen as high as 90 degrees.

At the risk of stating the obvious..again...I dont mind the heat.

So these emotions that I feel tonight are surprising, even perplexing.  I may never understand why a breath of  cool air...air that smells surprisingly sweet here in June...would bring tears of joy to my eyes. Cool breezes usually cause me to whine.

It's got to be hormones right?!
But maybe its gratitude?
It could be gratitude.

Today I felt my bones thawing.  Yep...it finally happened...at the end of June.

Or maybe its feelings of romanticism...
There are crickets chirping
The leaves are in a flurry outside in the dark.
The whistle in the screen is comforting...like the sound of waves or a teapot squeal.
The ceiling fan is purring and Im tucked away in our cozy room in our new home....

Maybe its because it dawned on me tonight that Im no longer racked with extreme fatigue after work.  Im toughening up...or the extra person that comes in for the lunch rush really does make all the difference??  Whatever the reason for my feelings of resilience , Im grateful Im no longer dead tired when I get home in the afternoon.

And here's yet  another likely explanation for my emotional reaction to an evening breeze...
I feel great happiness and gratitude at the prospect that this could be the night that a pair of excellent parents may be welcoming a new little boy to their family and home tonight.  Yep, Grand #9 is due any moment...and I suspect it could be tonight.

So...maybe you're thinking what Im thinking...that the billowing of my emotions tonight had not much of anything to do with cool breezes and rustling winds...

I think I  may have a grateful heart...
for many reasons...
and that's been an unfamiliar feeling for me for a while...

It  feels  good.

Night Night....and sweet dreams....

SABBATH WHINING

“Oh, mercy. If it catches you in the wrong frame

 of mind, the King James Bible can make you want

 to drink poison in no uncertain terms.”

 from: The Poisonwood Bible

 by: Barbara Kingsolver

Picture this...
Today, a new ward..
strangers everywhere...
Said strangers coming up and introducing themselves...all of them telling us that they are so happy that we moved into the ward.
People telling us that they 'prayed' us into the ward....or that we were answers to prayers.
There were jokes about handing over the keys to the Relief Society closet, to me.... today.
(First off, let me just say that my daughter who's 9 months pregnant would be a far better Relief Society President  than I ever could  be...and so I wish they were picking on her...but they won't...she will be out of commission for quite some time now.)
UGH!!

HELP!!

NO!!!!

I'M OUT OF HERE!!!

And thats just what  I did...I fled. I walked home, put on some jeans and walked to the corner market and bought myself a cold Pepsi.
Yes its true..I fell off the wagon and I broke the Sabbath all in one fatal hour.  (I've been enjoying Pepsi again for a month or so.)  Then I came home and sat in our lovely back yard and tried hard not to cry.  I forced myself to think about other things.
What came to my desperate mind was how great it would be and how badly I'd love to dig a deep hole out there, not to hide/die  in, though its not a bad idea right now...but a deep hole for a lovey, relaxing, therapeutic  koi pond....that's  what I would love.
Is an old lady like myself, past the prime of life,  still able to have some simple dreams and wishes come true?  I would dearly love to have a real Koi pond.
I also dream of one more family trip with ALL the kiddies..to a beach somewhere.  And a hot tub for the Logan winters would be nice too. And how about a bunch of zinnias planted everywhere.
All these lovely thoughts...and then my mind was pulled right back to the here and now...and the responsibilities that are looming just 3 doors down at the church building....where my family was still faithfully sitting in their classrooms learning about enduring to the end.
I just want to have fun.
I want to entertain friends in our new back yard.
Oh, lookie at me...Im in a "me" mood.....again.
Aint this a dandy way to spend a Sabbath?
My Builder...who is the best dad to our children (Happy Fathers Day babe) ...promises to 'protect' me from the new bishop. He's kind, but he lies.
When a call comes...I'll long to throw myself in the wished for hole in the backyard...and then I'll probably accept what comes.

No pang that is suffered by man or woman

upon the earth will be without its compensating

effect..if it be with patience.

-James E Talmage

Yes...we're moving.
I wish it was us returning to St George...or that we were going to California or better yet, to Mexico. But alas, we are moving just a few blocks away.  We're staying in Logan..where its almost June and yet it's still feeling like November.  8 months of cold weather is for the birds.  (No...thats wrong...cause birds can fly south, and far away from here.)  Last night, and tonight, it'll be cold enough to see our breath.
May June bring warmth..real warmth I pray.

But I  find encouragement  that this move means progress.  A little bit of progress. Now the Sherwoods and the Stephensons are combining forces, in both business and in residence, and are now  moving into a  spacious rental home together.  We'll have plenty of room there, and a lovely backyard to stretch our legs and to till and tend to.

We move in on the 10th of June. But we have already gone over and planted a wee herb garden out back amongst the weeds, and My Builder and Ben have weeded the long neglected sandbox together.  Anna is anxious to do some 'nesting' before baby boy #2 arrives in July, so she's highly motivated to get this moving process started.

Everyday I bring home boxes from work, that hopefully dont smell too much like day old beer battered onion rings, and pack a few things that I wont need between now and the move. You'd think this would be a piece of cake for me...we only moved here to Siberia just a year ago...(though it seems much longer.)   Honestly, I havent accumulated  new 'stuff' in that short amount of time. I promise.  Maybe a few books and some plants have joined us???
But there are already more boxes lining the walls of this apartment than I thought possible.
Sigh
Moving is never easy work.

The plan is to enjoy the new digs for about a year.
David graduates from Graduate School next spring.
But whats not being said...at least out loud...
whats no longer being promised is the immediate vacating of this God forsaken place the day after he's done...
"These things take time, " is what Im hearing.
Moving fast around here is a foreign concept...
Patience

Patience

Patience
.....on so may levels.

Meanwhile:
Pray that The garden doesnt freeze tonight...and yes..its a real possibility.
Pray for me...that I wont have to send back yet another unwanted BBQ Bacon Ranch Burger to the kitchen where they'll roll their eyes and wonder why I "dont get it right the first time."
Pray for me...that I can find the restraint to stay off Tumblr for more than a day.
And most importantly...pray that I can find my writing  "voice" again. I lost it  in last years  move. Hopefully as  I pack up again, I'll discover my 'voice'  behind the toaster or in an old shoe box. I need to communicate again. Being 'holed up' in our dingy little apartment has swallowed up a lot of things about me.  So its time to shake off the grumpiness and funky cobwebs and begin again!

Here's hoping a few extra rooms and a lawn of our own will help to inspire...plus an evolving rabbit food business too!!

Einstein couldnt bear the notion that God could create a

universe in which some things were forever unknowable.

Moreover, the idea of action at a distance-that one part-

icle could instantaneously influence another trillions of

miles away-was a stark violation of the special theory

of relativity.  This expressly decreed that nothing could

out race the speed of light and yet here were physicists 

insisting that, somehow, at the subatomic level, information

could.  (No one, incidentally, has ever explained how the

particles achieve this feat.  Scientists have dealt with this 

problem, according to the physicist Yakir Aharanov, "by

not thinking about it.")

from: A Short History of Nearly Everything

by: Bill Bryson

Tonight is one of those nights when I want to scream and cry and pummel my pillow to a pulp.
Today I was remembered by one of my dear Southern Utah hiking companions.
Its still so incredibly painful to remember what I have lost.

Tomorrow will be better.
The sun will shine.  I will meet new people at The Grill. I'll pack boxes here at home. And I'll keep hoping for a promising future.

But tonight Im clenching my teeth and trying not to wake My Builder with my grief.

.

“Sugar, it's no parade but you'll get down the street

 one way or another, so you'd just as well throw 

your shoulders back and pick up the pace.”

from: The Poisonwood Bible

by:  Barbara Kingsolver

When I started looking for a job here in Logan..I thought I would enjoy a waitressing job. I enjoy people. Im happy to help and serve others.  So I was very pleased and even a little excited when Steph, my boss, took a risk in hiring me, the old lady with no experience in food services.

It didn’t take long… in fact it was probably only a few hours before I began to question my sanity and my abilities.  My first days as a waitress/busboy/ peoples slave had me wondering whether you really do have to be cute, young, and blonde to receive good tips and have stamina enough to carry on.  I was discouraged to say the least when the young, experienced waitresses around me stuffed their pockets with more cash than I each night when they headed home.   BUT…now after a few months of being in the trenches,  I have learned…that the critical word here is experience.  It truly is more important to be sincere, confident,  efficient and relaxed as you work to get the expected tips.  Its not so much about how cute you are. (not so much…but it tips the scales in ones favor  Im sure.)

I have a good smile.  People like that.  They tell me so.  I look people in the eye. I try to connect with each guest, and I am rewarded  more often than not with generous tips.  Though I still have to remind myself that tips are NEVER predictable. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to how much one can make in any given day. Some days its only  loose change thrown in the tip bucket, and other days its 5 dollar bills.  Low cut shirts, good hair days, sporting  blue or purple company t-shirts doesnt seem to have the slightest effect on  one days success and another days famine.  There are  days I come straggling home with a lousy 20 bucks for my 8 hours of hard labor and other days when my apron pocket bulges with a wad of ones and fives equaling a whopping 50 bucks.  I scratch my head in wonder why some days people are generous and other days they are not. Its another one of lifes many mysteries.

I have felt all along that God directed me into Center Street Grill’s  parking lot last August…the voice in my head that said, ‘pull in and see if they are hiring” was convincing.  Steph was there that day and I felt we hit it off.  I am grateful for her  willingness to give me a try and for her patience as she has trained me.    But now in the spirit of honesty..I must confess that there are too many times that I ask myself what it is I’ve done.  Why do I subject myself to this drudgery? Im smart, I have skills and abilities beyond mopping and washing , stocking shelves and making milkshakes.  I constantly ask myself why Im doing this type of work.   (I know I’d be happier there if I could strictly waitress.  If I could just be out on the dining room floor serving the guests, life at the Grill would be more tolerable for me then.)  Its when Im in the back rooms..washing dishes and cleaning nasty bathrooms that I become so discouraged.   But  I was hired to do it all.  And that’s what I do. And so I often sulk and grumble under my breath..or cry into the dishwater wishing I was hiking and soaking up the St George sunshine and not beating my feet into a state of unrecognizable pain and discomfort.  That’s the truth of it. 

Steph is amazing.  There are people on this planet who love being in the restaurant business. And Steph is one of them.  She loves to cook for people and to concoct new menus and to greet each person that comes through her doors. She is passionate about her food and its freshness and presentation.  She is also appreciative of me and what I contribute to her restaurant. I know I am valued.  And so I stay.  The idea of  leaving and having to find a different job and  learn the ins and outs of it are inconceivable to me right now.  The stress of it all would take me down  completely.

So Im putting up with the mountains of dishes that need washing before I can clock out at the  end of the day. I put up with hauling the garbage bags that weigh more than one of my grands to the dumpsters in the back alley. ( Though I have learned to turn a blind eye to the heavy 5 gallon drums of mayo that should be hauled to the cooler, for I refuse to throw out my back at such work.) I mop, I scour and scrub baseboards and walls and machines, all of which are covered with grease and grim that will soon cover them all again by the very next day.  And for the most part no one notices the things that need cleaning  but me.  Greasy fingerprints on windows and doors  always need wiping away but I find teenage kids for hire turn a blind eye to those things as  I suppose as I do to the heavy lifting.

And so  I stay.

I do the work.

I feel  a sense of loyalty there.

And Im tired.

I don’t want to cook or clean when Im home.

I fear my feet may never recover from this abuse.  There are no breaks while Im there. I cant sit and relax for even a moment.  Concrete floors seem to be my downfall.  They are ever so much worse than sand and rocks and trails.

Im determined to stick it out at this job for a while longer.  I guess for as long as it takes.  I try to feel grateful for the work.  I’ll stay until My Builder has built his rabbit food empire. 

God sent me there.  Im not sure why.  But I stay because I do believe I was directed there for whatever purpose..or purposes.  It just isn’t time yet to quit.  But as soon as Im able... Im outta there and never looking back.  Saying ta ta  wont be difficult at all. 

Peace 

2012

A kind of peace settle over us, the sort of narrow peace

that I imagined pioneer families live in during the bitter black

winters, when dark fell early and lingered late, and snow 

piled silently against doors and windows, and commerce 

with the outside world was suspended until spring.

from: The House Next Door

by: Anne Rivers Siddons

Its no secret.
2012 was a hard year for me.
You heard me complain..a lot.
I felt justified in my whining. I no longer hike (much). I miss my red rock more than Pepsi. I miss my hiking friends, my parents, the grands and Sunday dinners.  I miss warm sun and blue skies and cactus and palm trees. I miss the sand between my toes. I miss our hot tub.  I know I've said all this before..but this is a review..and these things havent changed.
2012 was definitely about change; about nothing staying the same.

The Best Things About 2012

Beckham and Benjamin joining the family
Brian returning home from his 2 year mission in California.
Jenna Dot Loveday joining the family.
Mission calls to many young people I know and love.
Downton Abbey
Gardening...tomatoes, squash, tomatoes, chard, tomatoes!  Yum!
Learning that 2 more grands are due in 2013!

But enough is enough.  2013 is going to be a year of no complaining
...of less complaining...
of hardly any complaining...(until the furnace went out!!)

Its going to be a clean start for me.
My Builder deserves better. He's put up with the long face for long enough.
 I've determined that this indeed is going to be our year...for good changes.
I am grateful to all my friends and family who have put up with my whining for more than 356 days. I have needed your empathy.  I am thankful.

This is the year for dear new friends to add to the  dear old friend list.
This is the year for a clean start.
This is the year for new responsibilities and stewardship.
These new challenges will bring new blessings..and miracles...This time I feel sure of it.
There are many a book to be read.
There are new things to be learned, like deciphering a bus schedule...and reading music.
Creating a home from a lack-luster apartment is a good challenge too.
There's much to write about....
and creativity to be nourished.
And negativity to kick to the curb.
And grands to be spoiled.
There is much to do!!

Bring on 2013 and lets see where it leads! 

Expectations is the place you must always go to

before you get to where you're going. Of course,

some people never go beyond Expectations, but my

job is to hurry them along whether they like it or not.

from: Phantom Tollbooth

by: Norton Juster

People have wondered where I've gone...
Why Im not writing..

Well the short answer is .... "its complicated."
The next easiest answer is..."I lost my 'voice,' my muse, my inspiration.
In other words- the wind was taken from my sails.

But I miss it...a lot.

Lately I've been searching for a new muse, a new direction, a new ' look.'
I may be sneaking up on something.

As most everyone knows, Im no longer gathering coral dust between my toes. (instead Im  acquiring a filmy layer of grease and grime on my beloved hiking shoes, from The Grill.)
Life without my red rock and sun and a constant supply of vitamin D that I once enjoyed has now turned into a search for tender mercies that I know are freely given..from my new vantage point here in 'outer darkness.' (My pasty white skin and flabby muscles will attest to the changes going on in my life too.)
Im a broken woman. I've been humbled. But I read in the scriptures that having a broken heart and contrite spirit means having a heart that has been split wide open to let new and wonderful enlightenment enter to in..manifesting God's love to me.  

I have days when I feel Im in the pit of despair. 
I've wallowed well in self-pity.
I've ached for what I no longer have, until Im sick.
I've been angry and bitter and not to nice to live with sometimes.

And yet somehow I have kept some hope alive.  For without hope, what would become of me?
..a constantly bitter, wallowing woman...going nowhere fast...not a pretty picture.

So I now see myself becoming a collector of miracles..of tender mercies that touch my broken heart. 
There will be small and magnificent miracles documented here...from this time forth.
I wont be seeing them on hiking trails any longer...(at least not until spring) But I will see them. I  see them now, all around me.  
A BFF of mine suggested a 'miracle calender.' But Im attached to blogging..so Im going to keep track here and share what I learn  with you...and hopefully you can 'share' your miracles with me too.   
Tomorrow (or the next day) I will begin!
It'll be a list of what I now fondly call our "wedding miracles"
Its a lengthy list. And Im looking forward to sharing it with you. 

It feels good to be back!!
I have felt your love and encouragement and its GREATLY appreciated.
Peace out Friends!