Halloween Rant

      I think purchased Halloween costumes should be banned.  Here we have a holiday tailor-made for exercising cleverness and creativity, and people head to Wal-Mart, K-Mart, Halloween-Mart, etc. to take the easy way out.  By the time I see the 16th similar costume at my door, I want to shout, "No! no treats until you come back in a better costume!"  (Of course I would never say such a thing; it would be visiting the sins of the parents on the children.)  So what if you can't come up with anything?--that's what the internet is for.
   Our state government has done some wacky things lately--naming a state gun, trying to force people to vote, gerrymandering political districts, and planning to close state parks.  How about something worthwhile for a change?  Join me in a new crusade!  Write your state senator and representative! MANDATE CREATIVITY!!!

Rain

   I've been pondering the evocative propensity of rain.  Let's face it--rain is not simply rain.
  Spring rain is hopeful.  It makes us feel (sometimes erroneously) that winter is past, that good times lie ahead, full of green, growing things and beautiful gardens, bursting with fresh possibilities.  The song, "Singin' in the Rain" must refer to spring rain.
  Summer rain is refreshing.  It settles the dust, washes away the inversions, and makes the earth smell marvelous.  Sometimes it's wildly exciting, with clashes of thunder and lightning that invigorate us and even make our skin tingle.  It brings emotions to the surface--just look on the internet at the many songs about summer rain.
  Autumn rain is somber, even dreary.  It dampens  the bright leaves and reminds us that winter is closing in, the days are getting short, and the nights are growing cold. The Mamas and the Papas song, "Rainy Days and Mondays" can only refer to autumn rain.
  How great it is to live in a world that has it all--anticipation, excitement, melancholy.
Life is not static or boring.  Just like rain.


  
  

Laundry Room Blues

With a little gentle prodding, okay begging, Andrea gave me a wonderful Mother's Day present this year--she redid my laundry room.  I forgot to take a "before" picture with the doors still on the cabinets, so just imagine them.

Here's Andrea, working hard:

Finished product:

My contribution was the curtain covering the pipes, but it was Andrea's idea.  I love the colors; most of my house is pretty neutral, so it's a nice change.  It feels so much bigger and cleaner.  Thanks Andy!  I have the laundry room blues, and I'm tickled pink!!

Mother's Day

It's Mother's Day tomorrow, time to reflect on how blessed I am.

I had a mother who loved me. She wasn't perfect by any means, and I don't do many things the way she did them, but I marvel at her. She had major health problems much of her life, but she managed to raise nine children, serve in the church, and run her own business. When we were young she made most of our clothes--I have pictures of some of those dresses, made with layer upon layer of ruffles, and it was for four daughters. She had a strong testimony, but had to watch four of her children choose other paths. I know this broke her heart, but it didn't change how she loved or accepted them. She dealt with Dad's dementia and eventual death, only to suffer a stroke herself six months after he died. Her last five years were difficult, but she still served, making over 500 hats for the LDS Church humanitarian effort. I miss her.

I had a mother-in-law who loved me. Larry's mom was so kind, so accepting. I don't think she ever criticized me, although there was plenty to criticize. She planted flowers in our front yard many times, and they died many times, but she didn't throw that in my face. She was willing to set aside her own plans to baby-sit, to the point we told her we'd stop asking if she didn't say no when it wasn't convenient. She and Dad Hill took all the grandkids camping every year--mind-boggling! She was a widow for many years, which was very hard, but she didn't wallow in self-pity. Even when she got Alzheimer's, she remained sweet. I miss her.

I have children who love me. Being a mother brings so much joy. My children all face major challenges, but they face them with fortitude and humor. They each have a desire to do what's right and to help others. They're smart, creative, and fun to be around. I love them.

I have grandchildren who love me. Who would have thought thirteen little spirits could add so much to life? I see them learn from their faithful parents, and my heart swells with gratitude. Each one of them is smart, talented in different areas, and very creative. They all make me laugh. I adore them.

Quirky Eccentrics

I read a book that took place in an English village filled with quirky, eccentric people.  It got me thinking about those words.  We don't hear about eccentrics much in the U.S., and when we do, it's usually in connection with wealth.  You hear about eccentric millionaires, but not eccentric homeless people.  It seems to be a rather elitist word.   "Quirky" can apply to any socioeconomic bracket, but there again, what separates "quirky" from "weird"?  I love the word quirky.  It sounds fun and playful.  Weird sounds, well, weird.  So is being quirky a state of mind, a state of being, a state of dress?  Is it a matter of style?   Is it something you're born with, or can you develop it?  (If you have to work at it, doesn't it cease to be quirky?)  We all have quirks, so does that make us all quirky?  If not, why not?  Are certain quirks more "quirkworthy"?

Guess some questions just don't have answers.

Appearance

  Larry and I went to a fast-food place last week, and while he waited in line, I sat at a table and people-watched.  
  There was a woman about my age in line.  She had gorgeous white hair, and the most beautiful porcelain skin I have ever seen.  Everything she had on looked right, down to the perfect number and placement of accessories.  I immediately thought, "I want to look like her."
  Just ahead of her was another woman about the same age.  She had stringy gray hair and a blotchy complexion and her clothes looked like they had just come from Deseret Industries, (or maybe they had been rejected by Deseret Industries.)  The women with her were asking about her Relief Society service, and I realized  "I want to be like her."
  The first woman probably does great service as well, and we're encouraged to look as nice as possible without dwelling on it too much, but this experience reminded me of the scripture which says God looks not on the outward appearance but on the heart.  I won't ever have perfect skin and perfect hair; the intricacies of a perfect outfit will probably stay forever out of reach, but I can work on perfecting my heart.  
   And I can stop judging people by their appearance.

Almost Spring

   I know it's not really spring, but it feels like spring, and I love it!  
Here's the view from our back yard:

Here's a view  from the front yard:

    I love having Timp covered with snow and daffodils coming up at the same time.  For that matter, I love having a foot of snow dumped on us one day and watching it all disappear before my eyes.  I love having it smell like spring, even on the stormy days.  I love not wearing a coat  when it's all of 45 degrees out.  I love the anticipation of wondering which, if any, of the things we planted last year will actually survive. (Going by our record, it won't be many.)  I love knowing that the worst weather is over for another year, and that the winter snow provides the water for everything that lives.

  I love spring because it reminds me of my blessings.  No matter how many times I get dumped on, the snow eventually melts and things get better.    There are always unexpected bits of color even when things look drab.  If I look for them, there are new, fresh sights, smells and sounds.  At least some of my faculties that seem dormant are going to wake up.  And even the worst storms provide the moisture of increased wisdom, empathy and gratitude.

Happy Birthday Cori!

    Tomorrow is my daughter Cori's birthday.  I picture her at various stages in her life:

Being the best-natured baby in the world, sleeping through the night at two weeks.

Learning to talk (we wrote down the words she knew at 18-months, in the hundreds.)

Learning to ride a bike in our cul-de-sac.

Waiting at the bus stop for her first day of kindergarten (hard to watch, she seemed so young.)

Being awarded the Hope of America prize at Windsor Elementary.

Taking ballet.

Tending the kids and dealing with the injuries they inflicted on themselves.

Playing the flute.

Going off to college (I couldn't believe how soon the day had come when we dropped her off at her apartment in Salt Lake; I didn't think I'd prepared her enough.)

Serving a mission (When we left her at the MTC, it about killed me. I thought the next person who asked how I was would be hit with my cane--hard.)

Working at the Orem Library.

Serving as Relief Society President.

Marrying David Haskell in the Mount Timpanogos Temple.

Moving into their townhouse.

Becoming the mother of our first granddaughter and later our first grandson.

Leaving for Michigan--another heartbreaker.

Serving as primary president and later as YW president.

Having another son and another daughter.

  These are all experiences and accomplishments, but they don't really address who she is.  She is a loving, patient, helpful, creative, smart, talented woman.  I am so blessed to have her in my life, and so grateful we live in a time when technology makes it possible to talk, see each other and play word games whenever we want, even though we live far apart.

   Hope this is the best year ever for you Cori.  I love you!!! 

Anniversary

    Yesterday was our 41st wedding anniversary.  I like the symmetry of the date:  1.22.2011.  I really lucked out in the lottery of love, as a country song lyric should read.   (Or in other words, I am incredibly blessed.)   Just a few of the reasons I love my husband so much:
1.  He is a believer.  He knows what he believes, and he lives accordingly.  He has the integrity that comes with being a true Christian.
2.  He is a server.  He works in the temple two days a week and attends as a patron another day.  He constantly looks for ways to help others, especially his single-mom home-teaching families.  My neighbor was so impressed when she called him for help and his immediate response was, "Thank you for asking."  He took care of all of his mothers affairs the last year of her life, and now he manages his brother's finances.
3.  He is a doer.  He loves making lists and then checking things off.  He doesn't procrastinate.
4.  He doesn't complain.  He's had to put up with a lot over the years, doing his work and much of mine.  He waits on me, literally, hand and foot, but he never complains.
5.  He has a great sense of humor.  I love the wry, sometimes completely unexpected things he comes out with, and I love that he loves puns.
6.  He works hard.  I can't believe the number of hours he spent in the yard last summer, not to mention all the years of going the extra mile in his job.  
7.  He is thoughtful.  If I ever mention that I want something, he writes it down and gets it for me for a "monthaversary."  
8.  He is generous.  He is happy to have me spend money, even when we don't have much of it, and he's willing to help others as well, like contributing to our nephew's mission.
9.  He is very good at what he does.  He touched so many lives as a teacher. He's a great musician.  He's a great speaker.  All of these things are true because he invested the necessary time to become good.
10.  He's a quiet man.  He doesn't get angry, scream and yell.  Even when we disagree, he's not disagreeable.
11.  He apologizes.  He doesn't make excuses.  When he's wrong, (which isn't very often) he admits it and apologizes, then tries to make things right.
    That's just the start of a very long list, but I have to leave for church.  Thank you, Larry, for so many happy years.  I love you very much!!!!

Numbers

I like numbers, not to do math with or anything, just to look at and think about.  I'm pretty sure that if I were into numerology, at least one of the permutations for my name would indicate that I am smart, beautiful, successful, and due to live for centuries.  I like the year we're in-- 2011.  The two 1's at the end add up to 2, so the year turns into 202.    Then if you take 2 + 0, you get 2 again, so in one sense, we're in the year 2.  Everyone knows about the terrible 2's, so this year, feel free to think everything in the universe belongs to you, act out, and throw a tantrum or 2.