Time to Consider

Thursday is the day--more surgery.  We hope it will make things better, but the doctor has to tell us everything that could possibly go wrong, including possible death.  Pretty sure that's not going to happen, but just the thought makes me contemplate my life.

I am incredibly blessed.  I feel surrounded by love.  I have amazingly talented, funny, caring children, and grandchildren who always make me smile.  I have a husband who is so good he should be translated.   I have friends who bring treats to reading group and take me anywhere I need to go.  I have the peace that comes from the gospel.  I can look out my window and see Timpanogos in all its seasons, or in the front, the colorful flowers in the window box.  On a less exalted level, I have my iPad to keep me from going crazy and we just got Netflix, so I can watch old TV shows when I can't sleep.

I can say without hesitation that I wouldn't trade my life, pain and all.  The good things are infinitely better than the bad things are bad.

Listless?

     A couple of years ago, I started saying I was listless in every sense of the word.  What started out as a semi-clever play on words turned into a pretty tired bromide.  Last week I started wondering if it were even true. If I'm referring to list-less as in having no lists, it's definitely true.  Listless as in lacking energy--also true.    Listless as in lacking interest--not true.  I am interested in all sorts of people and things.  (I learned that the word listen comes from list or lean towards someone to show interest,  which in itself is interesting.)  List as in leaning sideways, like a ship listing in the wind--definitely true as well.  I always list, especially when I'm moving.  So I guess the final result of all this pondering and rambling is that I am mostly listless, with a tiny bit of listfulness thrown in.
Happy New Year!

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.