ALRandall

No, Not the Vet

2009-02-06T16:41:00.000-08:00

One of the things I dread most in life is to take our cat to the vet. Fortunately, I don’t have to do it too often. But at the beginning of the week, Indy was in a brawl with the neighborhood bully cat—in our garage. He received a flesh wound to the leg, which bled some, but didn’t seem too bad. We kept him in the house in the hopes that he would get better without a dreaded trip to the vet. However, after five days passed, he still wasn’t putting any weight on his leg, so I decided to bite the bullet and take him in.
He hates being in his cat carrier. I put him in, and he shot out through the door, which I didn’t realize was unlocked. I chased him down and found him under Josh’s bed, way in the back where I couldn’t reach him. I had to take Josh’s bed apart to get at him (and found two batteries and some change in between the box and the mattress. ???) I put him in the carrier a second time, and after struggling for several minutes, got it locked down.
Then the meowing started up. That’s the worst part, this pitiful, mew, mew, which, if translated, would probably mean something like, "let me out, please, please, please, I’ll do anything you want, just please let me out . . . . I tried to tell him it was okay, that he’d be all right, that we were going to make him better. But still, the mewing continued, all the way to the vet.
Somewhere in there, I started to wonder if Heavenly Father ever felt like I was feeling. Does He ever get tired of my pitiful mewing? "Don’t do this to me! Or "Please, please, please, do this for me," And all the time, he’s really doing what’s best. I wonder if sometimes I run and hide. Or do I refuse to understand when He’s telling me it will be all right? Next time I catch myself mewing, I’ll try to remember that.
Anyway, Indy is home. He took off and hid as soon as I brought him in the house. Clearly, he’s mad at me. I hope in a few days, once he starts feeling better, he’ll realize I had his best interests at heart. But he probably won’t. He’s just a cat.
I just hope he does start feeling better. I’d hate to have to take him to the vet again.

How Time Flies

2009-02-05T20:08:00.000-08:00

I can't believe how long its been since I last wrote a post. That's the way I am with journal writing. It sits for years and then when I write I think I have to catch up on eveything that's happened. I'm not going to do that here. I'm just going to say, "I'm back."

Cool drinks for a hot summer

2007-07-05T15:24:00.001-07:00

Here it is July already, and it's been a hot one. I can't blame the heat for my lack of blogging, but I can credit it for a spurt of inspiration I had in the kitchen. While searching for a nice cool drink to serve, I came up with the following, which was adapted from an Orange Julius recipe.

Pina Colada (my version)
6 oz frozen pineapple juice concentrate
1 cup water
1 cup milk
1/2 cup sugar
1 tsp coconut extract
1 tsp rum exract
1 tray of ice cubes

Combine all the above ingredients in a blender and blend until smooth.

Orange Julius
6 oz frozen orange juice concentrate
1 cup water
1 cup milk
1/2 cup sugar
1 tsp vanilla
1 tray of ice cubes

Combine all the above ingredients in a blender and blend until smooth.

The Crazy Month of May

2007-05-22T10:14:00.000-07:00

The school year seems to zip by faster and faster, but the month of May is especially speedy. I think it's because of everything that gets crammed into it.
Here are a few things that have kept us hopping so far this month.
Track meets: Josh had several at the beginning of the month, including the region meet. He finished sixth, just one slot away from qualifying for state.
BYU Women's Conference: I spent two days at BYU getting my bucket filled. Several of the talks stressed having dinner together as a family. It's always nice to hear that you're doing something right. In all our busyness, we usually do manage to sit down together most evenings of the week.
Volunteer training: After finding out that friends of ours are volunteering at This is the Place Park this summer, the kids and I have decided to join the fun. We've spent Tuesday afternoons driving to Salt Lake for training sessions. During the summer we'll be volunteering every Friday. That includes wearing pioneer garb, doing pioneer things, and talking with the visitors about life in the 1850's. It should be a big learning experience for all of us.
Finishing up school: Tests, projects due, book fairs and PTA meetings. Need I say more?
Getting ready for summer: Summer for us means a garden, which we got mostly planted the day before Mother's day. A few more plants went in this past weekend. It also means camps and vacation. We've finally had time to think about our upcoming trip to Florida and we're getting excited. More on that after it happens.
Also coming up, our annual Memorial Day breakfast. Lots to do in May!

Old Dog, New Trick

2007-04-21T09:32:00.000-07:00

I'm not that old, really, but I feel like an old dog who's learned a new trick.
When I was young, a traditional part of Christmas was the puzzle. It was placed on a card table, near the piano, and anyone who came in was invited to sit down and put in a piece. Some years there would even be two puzzles, one at our house and one at the Messers. I liked the idea of it. I liked the thought of gathering around the table, chatting, sifting through pieces, working together to create order from chaos. However, no matter how long I sat and stared, I never, well, almost never, found a piece that fit. I just didn't have the knack for it. Eventually, I gave up even trying, but I still liked the idea of it.
I guess it was that idea that spurred me into buying a puzzle for our family this Christmas. It was a "mystery" puzzle, one that had a story with it, and putting together the puzzle was supposed to help solve the mystery. I figured that since this would be the kids' first experience of putting together a 1000 piece puzzle, the mystery part of it would entice them to stick with it.
The mystery part of that puzzle turned out to be a bust. It was so badly written that putting the puzzle together didn't help one bit. However, the bigger mystery turned out to be how puzzle-challenged me had turned into someone who could actually put together multiple pieces. And, even more amazing, it was fun. So much fun that I got another puzzle for Easter.
This puzzle was also a mystery, "Da Vinci Code Quest," it was called and when I bought it I had the feeling it was of better quality than the last. When we opened it, we found out that not only was it better written, it really was a mystery. There was no picture to show us what the puzzle should look like when completed. Just a few hints in the story. EEEK!. Was I ready for that?
I guess I was, because we completed the puzzle. We solved the mystery. And I'm looking for an excuse to go out and buy a new one. Not only has this old dog learned a new trick, she's hooked.

One Thing I Don't Regret

2007-04-17T16:51:00.000-07:00

I sat down to write today and ended up spending an hour reading reports on the Virginia Tech shooting. The headline that struck me the most was, "He was a loner." That was exactly how the gunman who killed 5 people at the Trolley Square mall was described. And that got me thinking about loners I have known.
In High School I knew a few, but there was one in particular who comes to mind. He was odd, possibly a little unbalanced, and definitely a loner. He drove a truck with a shot gun in the back window. And looking back it scares me to think how easy it would have been for him to bring that shot gun into the school and take out a few people. In his mind, he probably would have had reason to. He was unpopular in his class, teased and ridiculed by many.
However, I wouldn't have exactly called him friendless. I was his friend. And so was my cousin, Cheryl.
A couple of weeks ago I went to a forum at UVSC. There was an author there who writes about troubled youth, and he talked about a novel he wrote, one about a school shooting. He had been inspired to write it, he said, after a school shooting near his home in Washington. In the aftermath, people were trying to make some sense out of it and one man told his story. He said he understood how the gunman felt, because he'd felt that way himself. One day he reached the point where he was ready to go home and come back the next day with a gun. But on his way out of the school, one of the popular jocks put a hand on his shoulder and said something as simple as, "Hey, how ya doin'." And that did it. Just being achknowledged diffused his anger. He didn't do the terrible thing he had been contemplating.
I thought about that story today. And I thought about my friend in high school. I'm not sure where he is or what his life is like, but I do know we all made it through High School without suffering from his wrath. I don't credit my friendship for that. But I do know that of all the things I regret in High School, and there are a few of them, I don't regret being friends with a loner.

Teased

2007-03-30T10:50:00.000-07:00

This past week has reminded me of something that happened when I was young. It was Valentines Day, but an unsatisfactory one, possibly the one when I got all the pink elephants (see 100 Things).
I was home, after school, and there was a knock on the door. I opened it, and lo!, there on the doorstep was a Valentine. For me? Could it be? Something to make up for the awful V-day I'd had? Stooping down, I reached for it, but it moved, away from my grasp. Thinking maybe the wind had caught it, I took a step out the door and reached for it again. It zipped away, off the porch, and then I heard it. Giggles. Someone was playing a practical joke. But it wasn't April Fools day, it was Valentines!
In tears, I fled back into the house, not bothering to pursue the bullies, and went straight to my mother to tell on them.
I should have known a mysterious Valentine was too good to be true. And now, once again, I've had that feeling.
I like Spring and it was here. For a few brief days we basked in it. I wore short sleeves and got a bit of color in my cheeks. Then it was jerked away, cruelly, and replaced with snow and icy rain. I should have known it was too good to be true.
I know it will come back, but now I'm wary. Can we trust it? Can we set up the trampoline? Can we plant things?
I've never liked to be teased.

A Day at the Zoo

2007-03-26T19:41:00.000-07:00

Friday was a day off for the kids. We went to the zoo with cousins. Here's a glimpse of the fun.

When did that Happen?

2007-03-16T18:24:00.000-07:00

Josh had a track meet on Tuesday, the first one of the season. His gramma Beverley was in town and wanted to see him run, so I picked her up from Mark and Marcia's house and we went together.
Josh was slated to run the 110 hurdles. As the time for the race approached, I saw him walking around, still dressed in a black t-shirt and regular shorts, not a purple uniform like his teammates. Are you going to run? I called out to him. He assured me that he was.
The boys 110 hurdlers were called to the starting line. The gun went off, boys flashed by, hitting hurdles as they went, but not one of them was Josh. That was strange. Then I looked down the track and could see more boys getting lined up for another heat.
The gun went off again, more boys flashed by. Still no Josh.
I looked over at Beverley and she looked back at me, both of us mystified. Then I remembered other incidents from last season. Once they wouldn't let him run because he didn't have a track uniform. That must have been it. I hadn't paid the track fee yet, and they wouldn't let him run.
A few minutes later, Josh came over and sat down by me. He was breathing hard.
"What happened?" I asked. He just looked at me.
"You didn't run, did you?" I asked.
"Yeah," he said. "I was in that lane."
And he pointed to the closest lane, the one about six feet from where we were sitting on the front row of the bleachers.
Then a voiced boomed over the loud speaker, announcing the results of the race. "In second, Josh Randall, 17 point something seconds."
He really had run, but somehow I missed it. Somehow I didn't recognize my own son.
He ran another race, later that day. I paid closer attention that time, and I think I figured it out. For one thing, he did have on a purple uniform. I'd been looking for a black shirt. And for another thing, he looked so big and mature as he flashed by.
When did that happen? When did my little boy grow up like that?

A Basketball Basket Case

2007-03-01T09:16:00.000-08:00

Josh has been playing in a youth basketball league for a couple of months. I was able to go to the first game of the season, but after that something always seemed to come up, either the games were too late or I had a meeting. And to tell the truth, I didn't mind that. But now that the tournament is in full swing and I've been to a couple of games, I've had to face the facts. The reason I don't enjoy going to his games is because I turn into someone I don't know.
I'm a pretty reserved person, right? I've had a lot of people tell me how calm and soft spoken I am. So why is it that watching my son play turns me into something else?
My palms get clammy and so I end up rubbing them together. My heart races and I can't help but fidget. I yell, loudly, even though no one else around me is doing the same. I use vocabulary that no self-respecting writer would ever use---things like, "way to be there," "way to get a hand on it," "way to . . . . whatever" What does that mean, anyway?
Josh's team lost the first game of the tournament, so that put them in the losers' bracket. It's possible to win the championship from that position, but it's not easy. Still, they're giving it a go. They had two games last night, one at 6:00 and one at 8:00. They won both of them by 3 points.
I was only able to go to half of the first game. But that was enough to confirm it once again.
My name is Alison, and I am a basketball basket case.

Fruit Dip

2007-02-23T11:42:00.000-08:00

This is so simple, but I get lots of requests for the recipe.

8 oz pkg. cream cheese
7 oz container marshmallow cream
juice from one lemon or one lime

Beat all ingredients together until smooth. Serve with any kind of fruit.
Note: I just tasted someone else's version of this recipe. She used orange juice and some grated orange rind. It was tasty. I still think lime is my favorite, though.

100 Things About Me

2007-02-21T18:33:00.000-08:00

It’s taken me three weeks to come up with them all, but here they are—100 things about me.

1. I was born in Cedar City, Utah. Raised in Beaver.
2. I have three living siblings, two brothers, one sister.
3. I have a husband and three children, one son and two daughters.
4. I served as a missionary in the Paris, France mission.
5. I have a degree in French from Brigham Young University.
6. I will try just about any kind of food, but will never again eat the following: liver, eggplant, and a certain variety of goat cheese that I once had in France.
7. Okay, so I didn’t try the blood pudding in England. But that was after Christi said, "Dad, does it taste like a scab?"
8. My two favorite food indulgences would be a BYU mint brownie or a scoop of Cold Stone banana ice cream with brownies and nuts.
9. I’ve had various nicknames during my life, my least favorite being Alpo (thank you very much Daniel Condie.) My favorite was Cinderella (a variant of Sister Randall).
10. I played on a volleyball team in high school that never won a game.
11. When I was a senior, I was named "most improved player" of said volleyball team.
12. I lived in France for 16 months but never went to the top of the Eiffel tower.
13. I have been to the top Notre Dame Cathedral.
14. And the Empire State Building.
15. And the Sears Tower.
16. I was editor and photographer of my high school yearbook.
17. If I could do it again, I would take out one page of said yearbook.
18. I like to cook, but hate having to decide what to cook.
19. In third grade I received a pink elephant valentine from every boy in my class.
20. In high school, I liked to drag main in my dad’s green 1973 Chevy truck.
21. I once burned half a gallon of gas in one day in said pickup truck.
22. My husband proposed to me in French.
23. My answer was "Oui." And it was the best thing I ever did.
24. I received the "Outstanding Drama Student" award when I was a senior.
25. I never took a drama class.
26. I’ve skied only once in my life.
27. I worked as a hotel maid when I was 13.
28. I became an office helper at Beaver Valley hospital at 14.
29. I wrote my first "book" at age 9, the "Hidden Doll Mystery." It has since disappeared.
30. I next wrote a series of mysteries, co-authored with and illustrated by my two cousins, Cheryl and Dana. The series was aptly named "The Cousins Books" and starred—who else—us.
31. I broke my pinky finger on Dwayne Bradshaw’s nose, playing volleyball in sixth grade.
32. I have a soft spot for animals, especially cats, and once fell in love with a lop-eared bunny (yes, my husband knows).
33. My friend Sharon Roberts and I won the leaders’ log sawing contest at 4-H camp.
34. If I had to choose a last meal, it would be Mexican food at Maria’s in Beaver . . . or possibly a Quesadilla Explosion at Chili’s . . . or Alice Springs Chicken at The Outback or . . . Let’s hope I don’t have to choose.
35. I once won the Miss Congeniality award at Girl’s Camp.
36. I like to drink lots of water.
37. I have a bad habit of leaving empty cups all over the house.
38. My favorite form of exercise is an early morning walk on the hill above our development, with a view of the sunrise across the valley.
39. I like to play board and card games, all kinds, except Monopoly with my husband.
40. My cousin Cheryl and I, both of us barefoot, were pursued by a black widow spider on the front porch of her house. I’ve hated spiders ever since, especially black widows, the fiends.
41. My least favorite household chore is cleaning the fridge.
42. I like to read.
43. I like to write.
44. I like to knit.
45. I like to sew quilts and crafts.
46. I like to needle punch.
47. I like to needle felt.
48. I like to bake.
49. I like to learn new things.
50. There’s not enough time to do all the things I like to do.
51. I tried out for Miss Beaver County and as my talent did a reading called, "Bill Smith" (said with a lisp). I received lots of laughs, but no banner and sparkly tiara.
52. I was voted, "Miss Talent," for the yearbook’s Senior Spotlight.
53. I had a 4.0 GPA in high school.
54. I did not have a 4.0 in college.
55. In fact, I received one C, in a tennis class.
56. Since Jeff and I were married we’ve lived in three different states and 11 different houses.
57. I played the flute starting in fourth grade through high school.
58. I played the alto recorder in a recorder quartet.
59. Despite what my mother said, I’ve never regretted quitting the piano.
60. However, we now own a piano and I love hearing my children play.
61. I found my first gray hair at age 21, while serving my mission.
62. I plucked my gray hairs once and sent them to my mission president in my weekly letter.
63. I cried when Dumbledore died.
64. I had a small volunteer job with the 2002 Olympics.
65. It was big enough, though, to score tickets to the closing ceremony, which were amazing.
66. I won an apple pie baking contest at the Utah State Fair when I was a junior in High School.
67. My high school principal asked me to make apple pie for a school board luncheon.
68. I participated in a 4-H meal preparation contest with my cousin, Cheryl, for which I made cherry pie. We lot the contest because one of us licked a finger. Neither of us is admitting to it.
69. I tried out for Beaver County Dairy Princess. Once again, I ended up bannerless.
70. When asked in said contest, I replied that the person I would most like to be was Princess Diana.
71. I cried when Princess Diana died.
72. Another of my favorite indulgences is lavender body wash. (To wash with, not eat)
73. I was a Visual Arts Sterling Scholar.
74. My biggest pet peeve is loud chewing noises.
75. My second biggest pet peeve is poorly edited city newsletters.
76. I have the best husband in the world. (Jeff wrote this one. He has a point.)
77. I have a large collection of cookbooks but still end up making the same things all the time.
78. I suffered egg burnout while growing up and do not often make eggs for breakfast.
79. If they were alive, I would love to sit down and chat with C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien.
80. When I was a missionary my goal was that every other missionary would go home with a picture of me doing a lip-up.
81. I have never been able to do a cartwheel.
82. Or a pull-up.
83. Or a regular push-up.
84. I can do crunches, though, lots of them.
85. I dye my hair. Cappuccino is my color.
86. I spend a lot of time at my children’s schools, volunteering.
87. I’m not into jewelry. I don’t even have pierced ears.
88. I seem to always have a project going, yet have a hard time finishing them.
89. I still like to play with dolls, and am also fond of fairies.
90. I have a blanky.
91. I have a passion for kitchen tools.
92. I suppose I could be considered a science fiction/fantasy geek, because I can’t count the number of times I’ve read The Lord of the Rings, and I own all seven seasons of Star Trek: The Next Generation.
93. I love Fall colors.
94. But my favorite season is Spring.
95. I love mountains.
96. My worst nightmares usually involve spiders or fire.
97. I always wear slippers, even in the summer, because the AC makes my feet cold.
98. If I could do one thing in my life over again, I would not do "The Promised Land" reading in front of the whole of Beaver High School.
99. My favorite candy is a Reeses Peanut Butter cup.
100. I’m still trying to decide what I want to be when I grow up.

A Neighborhood Tragedy

2007-02-14T17:27:00.000-08:00

It's been a week since it happened. I think I can write about it now.
Last Tuesday, Megyn had a dentist appointment. On the way home, we stopped at the grocery store to get some tylenol for her and I heard sirens when I got out of the car. I didn't think much about it because there are always accidents on the busy road there. But when I was in the store, I got a phone call from Josh.
"Mom," he said. "Something happened. There was an explosion and a house in our neighborhood is on fire." He sounded upset, so I quickly finished up my checkout and ran out to the car. I could see the plume of smoke from there. On the drive home I kept thinking, please let it be one of the houses under construction. The closer I got, the more traffic and emergency vehicles I saw. Josh was outside when we drove up and we walked over to my neighbor's yard where several people were gathered. We had a clear view from there, about 6 lots to the west, of the house burning---what was left of it, anyway. The whole backside of the house had just disappeared. We could see the rooms inside and a couch had been blown onto the roof of the house next door.
"It's the Roper's house," one of my neighbors said. "And April's still inside."
I'm not sure how long we stood there, watching. News trickled in from various neighbors. A gas man had also been inside with April. Her little girl, Olivia, was safe. Her husband was safe also, but completely distraught.
Life Flight came and landed. At first, we were hopeful. But it didn't take off. Another life Flight landed. It eventually took off, and we heard it had taken little Olivia to the hospital---just a precaution, we heard, she only had minor scrapes.
The evening wore on. The fire was under control, then it started up again. Smoke filled the neighborhood and we all smelled of smoke, too. Still no word on April.
News helicopters circled overhead. I wandered up to the police line and saw reporters gathered there, interviewing eyewitnesses. Was I an eyewitness? No, I told them.
The longer I watched the more I felt like I needed to do something. I saw a Red Cross truck drive by, so I went and offered my assistance. They had it under control, they said. The Relief Society President was there, too. She gave me a couple of jobs to do. One was taking a meal to a neighbor who had been outside the house with April's little girl. I heated up some frozen soup, but she wasn't home when I got there. I was able to help round up a propane heater for the families who were gathered outside, waiting for news. It was something.
News finally came around 10:00 pm. They found the bodies in the basement.
Tractors worked all night and by the next morning the house had been razed to the ground. But I still saw it all in front of me, the fire, water arching onto it, the smoke, helicopters and sirens. All day long snatches of converstion rolled around in my head, people telling where they'd been, what the blast had felt like. My neighbor's voice, "April's still inside."
I didn't know her well at all. They were new to the neighnborhood. We'd paused in the hall on Sunday to repeat each other's names. And now, I would never have the chance to get to know her.
In the week since it happened, the images have faded a bit. After the first two days, I was able to go longer and longer without thinking about it. We've heard stories of the Lord preparing and protecting that little family, which have brought comfort. I'm sure that April is in a good place. I'm sure she'll do a good work where she is. But still, I feel for her husband. He must miss her so. And I feel sad for her 18 month old daughter, who probably won't remember her mother. I feel sad for the the rest of us, too, who will never have the chance to get to know and love April.

Six Unusual Things about Me

2007-02-12T19:07:00.000-08:00

I've been tagged by my sister, Christi, so here are six unusual things about me.

1. The tip of my right ring finger goes numb whenever I push a cold grocery cart.
2. I eat macaroni and cheese with salsa.
3. I have a fascination with monks.
4. I can do a double lip-up. (Watch for a picture).
5. My favorite household chore is cleaning bathrooms.
6. I gave birth to two of my children without anesthetic, on purpose.

Okay, Mom. Now it's your turn. Tag, you're it.

Tamsyn Gives up her Locks

2007-02-06T10:48:00.000-08:00

Tamsyn's been growing her hair out for a couple of years with the idea of giving it to Locks of Love. On Monday, February 5, she finally decided it was time to chop off those long tresses.

Here she is, ready for the blade, but feeling nervous. Does she really want to do this? Yes, it's for a good cause.

This is ten inches, the minimum amount. Wow, it seems like a lot.

The first cut. The hairdresser actually had to saw through. That was one thick rope of blond hair.

It's done! Someone's going to be happy to receive those beautiful locks.

Here's Tamsyn with a new haircut, and still as cute as ever.

A Good Mystery

2007-02-01T16:49:00.000-08:00

I like a good mystery, especially a historical one. My favorites are the Brother Cadfael series by Ellis Peters and the Amelia Peabody series by Elizabeth Peters. Cadfael is a monk in the middle ages, Amelia an egyptologist in the late nineteen and early twentieth centuries.
I've recently discovered a new mystery series that I'm excited about. This one, too, is historical, and is called "The Lady Grace Mysteries". It's written from the point of view of Lady Grace, a young maid of honor to Queen Elizabeth I. It's written for young adult or middle grade readers but I think adults would enjoy it as well (at least, I do.)
It's written as a daybooke that Lady Grace writes in (a kind of journal, I guess.) She uses the vocabulary of the time period and has a spunky, funny personality. Very entertaining. As far as the mystery goes, it didn't take me long to figure out what was going to happen, but the solution of the puzzle was only half the fun.
The series follows the alphabet. So far Ive read Assasin and Betrayal.
The author isn't credited on the cover of the book, but it's Patricia Finney.

Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Cookies

2007-01-31T19:23:00.000-08:00

I like to bake, especially in winter when it's cold in the house and I need to stand by a hot oven to get warm. Here's one of my favorite cookie recipes.

Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Cookies
1 cup margarine
1 cup peanut butter
2-1/4 cups flour
1 cup sugar
1 cup brown sugar
2 eggs
1/2 tsp baking soda (this is for Utah. Use one tsp at lower elevation)
1/2 tsp baking powder (1 tsp)
1 tsp vanilla
1 12-oz package chocolate chips.

Cream together margarine, peanut butter, and sugars. Beat in eggs and vanilla until fluffy. Add dry ingredients and beat until combined, then add chips. Drop by tablespoons onto ungreased cookie sheet. Bake at 375 degrees for 10 minutes. Don't overbake. Makes a large batch.

A Success

2007-01-30T14:16:00.000-08:00

I was able to clear one thing out of my cluttered mind on Saturday. I've had a stake humanitarian aid activity in the works since last October, and Saturday was the big day. The theme of the activity was "Rise, take up thy bed, and walk." This is also the theme for the Church's Humanitarian Aid department, and encompasses their three goals: 1. to lift others. 2. help them become self reliant, and 3. to encourage them to serve others in turn.
For this activity, I had two classes planned, one on lifting others and one on becoming self reliant. The "lifting others" class was given by two sisters in a former ward who had both suffered the loss of children. Having been on the down side themselves, I felt they would have unique insight into lifting others. Since I was busy with food and such, I wasn't able to attend the class, but the teary eyes and conversations that continued in the hall afterwards told me it was a success. In fact, one sister told them they needed to do that class at BYU women's conference. I know it was difficult for them, but I was so glad they shared with us. Although not a tear-jerker, the "self-reliance" class was also well-received.
After the classes, the sisters headed to the cultural hall where each ward had some type of Humanitarian Aid projet. We also served an amazing brunch, prepared by our Stake Relief Society president/wedding caterer. All in all, the activity was a success. Now I can bask in the glow and have one less thing to think about.
Maybe I won't leave my milk on the counter anymore (see last post).

What I miss most

2007-01-23T10:49:00.000-08:00

"Of all the things I've lost in life, I miss my mind the most." (Anonymous)

When I discovered that saying as a teenager, I thought it was hilarious.
I used to write little blurbs on my co-worker's blotter before I'd go home from work. Since I worked after school I rarely saw her and this was one way to keep in touch. One day I wrote the above saying and when I did see her, she made it very clear that she wasn't happy with me. She'd taken it personally, thought I was making fun of her. Me, I thought it was just a funny saying.
At the time, I didn't get it. Now I do. Because now, it's me. I've lost it.
Last week Jeff said, "Guess what I found on the counter this morning?" Apparently he'd taken the cereal down from the cupbaord and turned around to get a bowl. There, on the counter, was the milk---milk, which he, not yet having lost his mind, knew perfectly well he had not taken from the fridge.
But I had. The night before. I admit it---I took it out to give a begging kitty a snack before he was sent out into the cold night. And I left it on the counter.
This is just one of many instances of forgetting or misplacing or spacing.
I console myself with the thought that I just have too much going on in my head. Something's bound to slip out. And it helps---a bit.
But still, I really miss the mind I once had.

A Doughnut Fry

2007-01-14T20:38:00.000-08:00

We had a doughnut fry yesterday. But before I write about that, I have to mention this. I seem to have an unusually strong connection with the past. I'm sure that many of the things that I like to make or do seem old-fashioned. And that is exactly why I do them.
For instance, I like to knit. And one of the reasons I knit is because it reminds me of my grandma. When I sit and make that soft tic-tic sound with my needles, it's as if grandma is right there beside me, her hands busy as they always were. If ever a turkey dressing is required, I can only make her recipe. It doesn't matter that I've seen hundreds of different recipes, and some of them actually sound good. If I'm going to make it, it has to be hers. The same thing goes for pie. Perish the thought of making anything other than my mother's pie crust recipe.
And so, back to doughnuts.
Making doughnuts requires a wintry day. It's best if you've been out sledding or tubing and come in to warm up and find hot, crispy doughnuts waiting. At least, that's the way it was for me and my cousins when I was growing up. In fact, the only time we had homemade doughnuts was after a full day in the snow. We'd come home to hot chili, cocoa, and Aunt Ann's steaming, crispy doughnuts, fresh from the fryer.
That's the ideal, anyway. And I've attempted to recreate that mood a couple of times in the past. But it didn't happen yesterday. It was wintry, but we didn't play in the snow. I made up a batch of dough, then we sat down and settled into an involved game of Settlers of Catan: Cities and Knights. We fried the doughnuts later, after Jeff had proved himself, once again, the master of games in our family. The girls helped cut them, I did the frying, and Tamsyn dunked them in glaze. Megyn ended up with a splash of hot oil on her finger, but it wasn't bad enough to spoil the fun. We enjoyed them with hot cocoa and sticky fingers.
Would it have been easier to run to the grocery store and buy some? Sure, but who said passing along tradition was easy?

Seeking the Balance

2007-01-11T10:28:00.000-08:00

I've never been good at a journal. And that's ironic, because one thing I feel strongly is that we need stories, we need to hear them and we need to share them. And so, here is my attempt to share some stories of my life---and maybe a few other things along the way.
But first, here is my pledge for this blog: I will try to strike a balance.
Let me explain. Way back when, when I was called to be a missionary, I determined that all of my letters home would be positive. And I was pretty successful at that goal. There were days when it was hard to find anything positive to write about. But I'd begin anyway, forcing myself to find the good in the week. Usually, by the end of the letter, something interesting had happened. Not only had I found something good, but I felt better, too. It was a good exercise in the power of positive thinking.
However, there was a downside to my approach. When I read those letters now, I don't see a true vision of my mission. Yes, it was a great time, and those letters show that, but that's almost all they show. Some of them are almost obnoxious in their up-ness. I can think of two letters in the whole 18 months worth, where I took off my happy face and wrote about a difficulty I was having.
And so, I'm seeking the balance, not only in this blog, but in my life. There has to be one there somewhere, that tricky line between focusing on the positive, and acknowledging the negative. If anyone has been successful in finding it, I'd love to hear how they did it.