New Year's Resolutions

It's New Year's Eve, the time many people take stock of their lives and make resolutions. I can see the appeal: new year--new improved, thinner, fitter, richer, more organized you. In theory. In reality, I run into a huge problem. For the whole resolution thing to work, my first one would have to be STOP PROCRASTINATING! Obviously, I would procrastinate putting it into effect. You can see my problem. Putting off not putting off is so off-putting. So I guess I'll go another year watching my darling husband write things down, do them, and check them off, while I remain listless in every sense of the word. Instead of making new resolves, I'll just keep plugging along at the same old things, trying to be kinder, more patient, less judgmental, less complaining. Happy New Year!

Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving!  I'm so grateful for a warm home, loving family, beautiful children and grandchildren, goodly parents and a strong faith.   Speaking of beautiful grandchildren:

We took these last summer, wish we could have all the kids together all the time.

Thanksgiving A B C

Just a short list of things I'm grateful for:
A--Andrea, Addie, airplanes.
B--books, berries, baseball.
C--Cori, Chloe, Caleb, chocolate.
D--Dave, Deanne, daisies, doctors.
E--Eli, earrings, eggs.
F--family, friends, feta cheese.
G--Gideon, grass, gum.
H--Hillary, home, honey.
I--India, ice cream, idiosyncrasies.
J--Jake, Jesse, Joe, Jeopardy.
K--Kristen, Kennedy, kindness.
L--Larry, Livy, laundry, laughter.
M--Mira, mountains, Matt.
N--nights, noise, needles.
O--oranges, origami, oxygen.
P--pie, people, perfume.
Q--quiet, quarks, qi.
R--rain, roofs, roses.
S--Sophie, Sarah, sunshine.
T--Tyler, tulips, television.
U--umbrellas, unicorns, umbilical cords.
V--violets, violas, Velcro.
W--water, watermelon, wishes.
X--x-rays, xylophones, xi, xu.
Y--yellow, yogurt, yarn.
Z--zest, zeroes, za.

Leaves

My childhood home was on a large lot with great big trees. In the fall, all the kids in the neighborhood would come over and play in the leaves. We would rake mazes and then chase each other though them. We would outline elaborate houses with many rooms. We would make huge piles that reached the lower branches of the trees and then climb the trees and jump, becoming buried in scratchy, soft leaves. I don't remember actually helping get rid of those leaves, but I probably did.
Then I grew up, got married, moved around some, and my husband and I bought a home and planted our own trees. It took many years, but now our maple trees are finally big enough to fill the yard with leaves. It's not the same. The grandkids enjoy them, but not often. Larry spends countless hours filling countless bags so we can donate them to my sister's compost heap. Its hard work.
The magic is gone, but like wood smoke in autumn, the memories live on.

Water

Oh the wonder of water! When my houseplants are near death, a drink of water miraculously revives them. It cleans our clothes, our floors and our bodies. Soaking loosens baked-on grime and makes dishwashing a breeze. Summer rain settles the dust, greens up the grass and makes the world smell wonderful. A long hot shower soothes the body and mind. A cold shower invigorates. (At least that's what I hear--I've never actually had a cold shower.) A tall glass of ice water is bliss on a hot summer day. When I was a child, our epic water fights quickly cooled us off. Water makes puddles for splashing in and turns sand into a building material. It's a big part of who we are, as one Star Trek alien put it, "ugly bags of mostly water." As we count our blessings this season,let's not forget water!

Why Vote?

It's Election Day next Tuesday, so I want to suggest a few reasons to vote:
1.  It's a responsibility inherent in our form of government.
2.  It's a right that a lot of people in the world don't have, so we should treasure it.
3.  If only a small minority vote, that small minority will determine the outcome.  Do we really want that?
4.  Maybe most important--even if no one I voted for gets elected, the fact that I voted gives me the right to complain about the government.  Why would I give that up?
GET OUT AND VOTE!!

More To Be Thankful For

This morning several army helicopters flew over my house. Whenever that happens, I think of how many places there are where that sight brings fear, and how grateful I am to live where it's just interesting to watch. Hooray for America!

Gratitude

     It's a while until Thanksgiving, but I was thinking of all the things I'm grateful for.  I'm so glad fall is here--for a while I thought we might go straight from summer to winter.  The yard looks better than it ever has (thanks Larry), in fact Tyler said the back lawn looks like it's been spray-painted green.  The roses are stupendous, and nearly all the plants in the front have taken root and look great.  The mountains are full of color, and I love watching the cloud variations.
   I'm also very grateful for my wonderful family.  Larry has to be the most thoughtful husband on the planet, and I have five amazing children and thirteen incredible grandchildren.  I'll just briefly mention some great things about my kids.  Cori is so patient.  When they were her for two months this summer, I don't think I heard her raise her voice once.  She's the YW President in her ward, and I love playing word games with her across the miles.  Tyler can learn how to do anything by reading and experimenting, and it's great fun watching him sing with the Tabernacle Choir.  Andrea is creativity personified.  She truly does make trash into treasures, and her blog is gaining new followers daily.  Sarah is the most Christ-like person I know.  People with problems seem to be drawn to her because she really listens and cares.  Kristen is our performer--she sings and dances, and she touches countless lives in her youth theater work.  
  In the beginning of The Book of Mormon,  Nephi says that though he has seen much adversity, yet he has been highly favored of the Lord.  I can echo his sentiments without reservation.

Toys

   Thanks to my husband's great generosity, I am now one of those selfish elitists (according to the internet) who own an iPad.  So far, so fun!  I've played word games with Cori and Tyler, looked at my house on Google Earth, read my scriptures, won several levels on Angry Birds, and spent $1.98 on unnecessary apps.  My hip leg (as opposed to my knee leg) has been giving me fits the last few days, so I love having something to occupy my mind.  Thanks again, Larry!  You're a saint among men.

Fall in Utah

    Larry and I took a drive up to Park City today.  It was incredibly beautiful.  The sky was deep blue, fading to light blue at the horizon, with cotton-batting clouds making ever-changing shadows on the hills.  There were patches of dark green evergreen trees, surrounded by the light green deciduous trees that haven't changed yet, forming intricate quilt patterns.  Some hillsides were covered with the russets and golds of fall colors, others were still almost entirely green, with an occasional bright-orange tree in the spotlight.  Bridle Veil Falls looked gorgeous, surrounded by terraced gardens crafted by nature.  Deer Creek Reservoir's slate-gray waters were livened by dancing diamonds on the surface where the sunlight hit.  Bright yellow wild daisies lined the roads, and there were fields of acid green-yellow grasses, which provided contrast to the more sedate colors on the mountain slopes.  I could have kicked myself for not bringing my camera, although I think stopping every five minutes to take pictures is frowned on anyway.  We are so blessed to live in such a beautiful place.  We are also very blessed to have good roads on which to travel our beautiful canyons.  Every time I take a drive like this, I imagine what I would be feeling as a Pioneer, and give thanks that I'm not one.

Getting Old

  I was pondering the pros and cons of getting older.  Start with the cons:
1.  I'm falling to pieces, one bit at a time.
2.  I have hair where I don't want it, and I don't have hair where I do want it.
3.  I'm running out of time to do some of the things I want to do.
4.  Time has flown by too quickly.  I didn't take the time to savor every moment when my children were young.
5.  People who I loved dearly are gone, and I'm not ready to be the oldest generation.
6.  I still haven't decided what I want to be when I grow up.
   I guess that's enough to start with.  But there are some pros as well:
1.  The maple trees we planted thirty years ago are huge now, so we have lots of shade.
2.  Larry has retired, so he has time to work in the yard.  It's never looked better!
3.  I don't care as much about what people think of me.
4.  I've overcome some of my compulsions--I don't have to finish every book I start, and I can turn off the car in the middle of a song on the radio.
5.  I've lived to see my children become awesome adults.
6.  My awesome children have produced awesome children of their own, who are the light of my life.
7.  My brain still works, even if my body doesn't.
All in all, I guess getting older isn't so bad.  Especially considering the alternative.

It's Not Fair!

  One of the first full sentences a child learns is:  "It's not fair!"  Think about it.  It's not fair that I look more like my dad than my mom.  It's not fair that the only place I have thick hair is my eyebrows.  It's not fair that I was born without a hip, which made me klutzy, which makes me fall down a lot, which makes me break things, which makes me have to sit around eating bonbons and watching TV.  Life isn't fair!
  On the other hand:  If I look at the larger view, it isn't fair that I live in a comfortable home, with plenty of food and clothes.  It isn't fair that I have the world's best husband, five amazing children and thirteen incredible grandchildren.  It isn't fair that I live in a free country where I can say what I please and worship how I please.  It isn't fair that I have access to good medical care.  It isn't fair that I can look out my window and see beautiful mountains and clear blue skies (most days.)  The list goes on and on and on.
  No, life isn't fair.  Thank goodness!

Grownups

    Last week my two-year-old granddaughter was doing a letter app on her mother's iPad.  She would carefully trace a letter, then jump up and down, shouting "I did it!"  This week we had a talent show with all 13 of our grandchildren.   We had singing, dancing, flute-playing, somersaults, roller-blading, bike-riding, card tricks, headstands,  cookie-making and ping-pong ball bouncing.  It was great fun.
   These two experiences made me reflect--when is it that we lose our excitement over a new skill?  When do talents other than the typical ones cease to be recognized as talents?  Shouldn't we as adults jump and down and shout "I did it!"  (at least mentally)  when we accomplish something?   I vote to do away with the blase, the ho-hum, the tedium of adulthood.  When we put away childish things, let's not throw away the childlike wonder of life as well.

I Remember Mama

       My mother would have been 88 years old on August 15.  She died just over four years ago, and there are days when I miss her terribly.  She was an incredible lady, strong-willed,  a good businesswoman, organized.  She didn't have much of a childhood:   she was the oldest of six children and pretty much raised them all, since her father had poor health and her mother ran a business that took her all over the country.  She had nine children, and in spite of health problems of her own, served faithfully in challenging church callings all her life.  She made us beautiful clothes when we were little--I remember dresses with layers and layers of ruffles. We joked about her wacky quacks and weird health foods.   She made meatless meat loaf and sugarless ice-cream, but in the last years of her life, she also had a stash of chocolate close at hand.  You never knew what new tangent she would take.  She and dad loved buying new "as seen on TV" items, and she had lots of gadgets.   She wasn't the stereotypical grandmother, maybe because she still had young children at home when the grandkids started coming, but she loved her grandchildren and great-grandchildren a lot.  Every year she made a new Christmas ornament for each of them.   I don't remember ever seeing her without her make-up, but I remember her advising me to stay in my pajamas if I was sick, since children think if you're dressed, you're well.  (Maybe that's how I learned how comfortable it is to just schlep around in nightgowns.)
    Larry and I listened to a song the other night, "Seeing My Father In Me."   I don't see a lot of my mother in me.  My personality is completely different, as is my parenting style and my sense of humor.  I do have a bit of her knack of seeing the simplest solutions to problems.  I wish I looked more like her--she was beautiful.   Instead, I have my dad's snub nose and bushy eyebrows.  There are  areas where I hope to grow more and more like her.  She had a strong, steadfast faith that carried her  through Dad's struggle with Alzheimer's and eventual death and through her own stroke and disablement.  She loved and supported her children, even when they made choices that she hated.  She was willing to offer help and advice, but she didn't try to run our lives.
     I love you and miss you, Mom.  Happy birthday!

Small and Simple Things

 Since I've been laid up, I've spent a lot of time crocheting (and a little time knitting.)  As my husband says, "That's a lot of slip knots."  Those slip knots turn into a wide variety of objects:

Toys

Accessories

Baby Blankets

Afghans

Pillows

Purses

You get the idea.  Slip knots by themselves can be tedious, but I like the end result.  That's true of just about anything.  One note at a time, my husband taught teenagers to become musicians.  One strand at a time, a friend made the hair on Toy Story 3  look amazing.   One command at a time, my son programs computers.  One laundry load, one meal, one mopped-floor at a time, a woman makes a home.  One hug, one scraped knee, one teaching moment at a time, parents build a family.  Nothing worthwhile happens all a once.  It takes time, commitment and determination to create an afghan, a home, a family, a nation.  Next time you're tired of the minutia of your life, just remember what you're really doing and take heart.

                            

Contribute

      My son sings with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.  In one of their training sessions, choir members were told to forget everything they'd been taught about staggering their breathing.  The instructor said they should breathe whenever they needed so they could always sing at full voice.  He said there were 250 other singers to pick up the slack.
    The more I think of that, the more I like it.  We're all part of different groups, "choirs" if you will:  families, neighborhoods, church groups, work,  etc.  We want to contribute fully, but sometimes we have to take a break.  It's nice to know there are others around who will pick up the slack--then we can come back in at full force.   Part of our challenge is  realize when we need that breather, and part is to notice when someone else does so we can jump in to help.   In one sense, none of us is indispensable.  In another sense, we all are.  The music doesn't work if we don't all participate.
     Sing on!

Purfuit of Happiness

     In the Book of Mormon, Laman and Lemuel are complaining (as usual):  "Behold, these many years we have suffered in the wilderness, which time we might have enjoyed our possessions and the land of our inheritance; yea, and we might have been happy." (1 Nephi 17:21)  I underlined might have both times and penciled to the side probably not.  I can't imagine them ever being happy because they were miserable complainers by nature.
     We sometimes hear people in love say something like, "I just want to make him/her happy."  Or people who want to be in love say, "I just want someone who makes me happy."  Divorce is considered reasonable when the  other person doesn't make you happy anymore.  WRONG!  No one can make you happy. Other people can add to your happiness, but whether you are happy is up to you.
     We all know the "yes, but. . ."  people.  They complain, and when you try to point out positive things in their lives, they respond, "Yes, but. . ."  I prefer the converse.  Yes, my circumstances aren't the best now, being laid up for who-knows how long with a broken knee, but I'm happy.  I have so many blessings to focus on, why spend time bemoaning things I can't change.
      I have to disagree with our founding fathers a little.  I don't believe happiness is something you chase.  I believe it's something you choose.

Goodness

      In a conversation my son and I had a while ago, he said it's strange that so many people talk about how good they are because they work hard, don't cheat on their spouses or do drugs.  He said those things should be taken for granted.  Isn't Google's motto "Don't Be Evil"?  That's great for a corporation--in fact, I wish it were the motto of every corporation on the planet.  From individuals, though, we should ask a bit more.  To be good, we need  to do good.   It doesn't have to be big things.  My neighbor sends me get-well cards regularly.  My husband helps tutor a friend's child in math.  My daughter cut off ten inches of hair to send to Locks of Love.  My granddaughter, unasked, brought a cushion to prop my leg on.  Our ancestors did great and glorious good works to build this country.  We can honor them by doing small and simple glorious good works for those around us.  Happy Independence Day--and be good.

Spring

Now that it's officially summer, I want to rhapsodize about spring. I love seeing crocuses poke through the snow; going without a coat because it's 45 degrees out; smelling the rain. My favorite part of spring is it's unexpectedness. It's hot one day,back to winter the next. Wind springs up at a moment's notice. Our rose bushes were green with leaves one day and overnight became a riot of color. 

Our weeping flowering cherry tree looks like Cousin ITT from the Addams Family.

Our window box is growing a troll.

Everywhere you look, some unexpected new growth appears.

I love the unexpectedness of people too. It makes life more fun. My husband, trained as a classical clarinetist, enjoys country music. My three-year old, very girly granddaughter loves potty humor. A friend makes me stop and look at things in new ways and marvel at how her mind works.  My mechanic brother crochets in his spare time. 
       Cheiko Okazaki once said, "If we both though alike, one of us would be unneccessary." I have that posted in my house.   Just as spring is good for the soul after a long winter, so is the quirkiness that makes each of us human.

Father's Day

Tomorrow is Father's Day. I miss my dad, and I miss Larry's dad. They were alike in a lot of ways. Neither of them would ever rate a listing in Who's Who. They didn't even graduate from high school. But they were the kind of men that make this country work. They served in WWII; they loved their wives and children; they worked hard to provide for their families (even if their jobs weren't satisfying or fulfilling); they were active in their religion and helped those who needed help. And they told great stories. I remember lying in the back of our old station wagon in the dark while Dad drove through the night, regaling us with the continuing saga of Frisky the squirrel, taking him from birth to the eventual forest fire that forced him to run for his life. Dad Hill had a million truck-driving stories, full of humor and narrow escapes. Both men were truly good people who mattered.
Now my husband is Chief Dad in the Hill family, and he carries on the tradition of greatness. He taught band for 35 years and changed hundreds of lives. Parents loved coming to his concerts, both for the music and his jokes. He serves faithfully in his church callings, even when he doesn't like them. He waits on me hand and foot (right now that's literally) and he actively looks for ways to help others. He's the one who says, "Everyone help clean up" after dinner, and he's the one who spent hours yesterday playing Wii and ping-pong with the grandkids and then watching a movie he didn't care about so Mira could fall asleep on his lap. He won't ever be in Who's Who either, but he is now and always will by my hero.

Whiskers

My granddaughter Addie snuggled up to me on the couch one day, took a second look, and said, "Grandma, you have whiskers like Daddy!" AARGH. Lots of things change with age, but that thing is just wrong. I mentioned once that I didn't want to end up someplace where no one ever visits because I look so terrible. My daughter Andrea said, "You can live with us, and I'll pluck your whiskers every day." My daughter-in-law Deanne said, "I thought we could all pitch in for electrolysis." Either way. They made me feel loved. It's nice to know when I eventually die, it won't have to be alone. With a beard.

Sorry

One of the things I love about my husband Larry is his willingness to admit when he's wrong and apologize. He doesn't rationalize or make excuses--he simple accepts responsibility for his mistakes and tries to make things right. That's really hard for me to do. I'm a master of excuses. I'm not sure why, maybe I'm afraid people won't like me anymore, or maybe it's a tidbit left over from my mom, who felt apologizing, especially to one's children, was a sign of weakness. Maybe I just don't want to admit how fallible I am. When Larry apologizes, people just appreciate him more, because they know he's sincere. That's got to be true of everyone else as well. So, for the record: No excuses, it's my fault, I apologize. (Did that sound sincere?)

My husband has been working hard in the yard, and I got thinking about the long-ago when I did that occasionally. Yard work means weeding, and there are all kinds of weeds. Some are huge, taller than the surrounding plants, and seem to have sprung up overnight. You can grab hold, pull, and they come right out. Then you have insidious little weeds like morning glory. They don't seem so bad, but the roots go to the center of the earth, and they eventually cover everything. Weeds are a lot like faults--sometimes the big garish ones are the easiest to get rid of, while the little morning-glory types like procrastinating and being critical take constant vigilance. When I start focusing on the blatant failings of others, that's when I need to go back to weeding my personal morning glory.