Bliss

Take one down, pass it around...

2011-11-22T08:11:00.000-08:00

I'm in love and I don't care who knows it! And no I'm not talking about the book "I am number four" but I am talking about another publication, "Writer's Digest magazine". I've been reading it this morning and dying over the genius of those who contribute to it. Dying in grinning, gooey, giddiness I tell you. Especially when I read this paragraph:

"To not write your novel, constantly worry about how bad your book might turn out to be. Pause every thousand words or so and think, This is about the worst piece of crud known to man. Where did I put the bourbon?"

This paragraph made me laugh out loud because this is where my mind currently resides in my writing journey. "It's all crap." I tell myself. "What the heck am I doing thinking I can write anyway. I pretty much stink!"

So when Marlee came to me the other day and said, "I read what you've written so far."

I cried, "No it's crap! I can't believe you read that awful, horrible, crappity crap! You should have let me edit it first."

"It's amazing." She answered. "You're an amazing writer."

"That means a lot coming from you." I said.

"Oh yeah, why?" She asked.

"Because you're reading all of the time!" And she is too. Holy cow that girl's read a ton of books. And she's very particular and critical too. She doesn't like crap. So it did mean a lot to me when she said she liked my writing. Especially when she let me know, with a hint of drool at the corner of her lips no less, "I love that Aaron guy."

"You know he's the bad guy." I told her.

"Even better." She smiled.

Okay so maybe I won't quit (or resort to drinking bourbon) just yet.

Birthday Rush...

2011-11-21T08:02:00.000-08:00

In honor of Jamie's birthday I give you this picture of Big Time Rush (because I don't currently have other birthday pictures to post) her newest, latest and greatest love interests. I think it is Kendal she loves most (guy in hat) but she is sure to correct me later if I'm wrong. Like boyfriends in years (months, weeks) past I find that I can tolerate these guys pretty well too. Their music doesn't bother me and I've even been know to get sucked into their TV show from time to time. So all is well. Lets just hope she has the same luck in choosing real life boyfriends. Oh I'd better like them because I am not putting up with any foolishness I'll tell you that right now. I'm so done with fool men and their shenanigans (not speaking personally of course. I gots myself a keeper) and I pray everyday that my girls can steer clear of the fools. Please.

And now if you will excuse me, I must go make cotton candy for Jamie's class.

I really don't feel like making cotton candy today, but I must. Because when you own a cotton candy machine it just doesn't feel right to make cookies or cupcakes, I'm just saying. So that's what I'm gonna do. Make cotton candy. Yes I am. Right now.

P.S.
Did you know that if you make cotton candy in the house it coats everything with tiny sugar particles and sets off the smoke alarms? Good times.

If you build one, they will come...

2011-10-07T09:04:00.000-07:00

So I was reading NieNie the other day--as I'm known to do from time to time-- and in this particular post seen HERE... she briefly mentioned her daughters' fairy creations in the backyard which made me feel all giddy because outdoor fairy creations were ONE OF MY VERY FAVORITE THINGS IN LIFE when I was a wee child. And this thought led to the memory of an afternoon spent making fairy creations with my girls-- back when I was a brunette (ours weren't quite as elaborate as the NieNie girls' but whatever, mine never were either).

Do you remember when I was a brunette? I do. After going through my pictures to find our fairy house day, I'm thinking of becoming a brunette again (and forget what they say about blonds) because I seemed to have a lot more fun as a brunette. I'm not even lying. I look at my old pictures and say, "Dang who's that girl? She's having a heck of a lot more fun than I'm having now." So I'm wondering... Is it the hair? Did I have more fun because of the hair? Hmm... maybe I'll just have to find out again. Yes maybe. I'll have to think on that one.

But in the meantime, I think it's time to get out and MAKE SOME MORE FAIRY HOUSES. Even though it just got very cold here. A fact that I can hardly speak of without a little sting in my heart. Perhaps if I become a brunette again I'll be able to face the winter like Rocky Balboa in Russia (what # Rocky was that? 4?). You remember that one right? When he's stomping through the snow with a log on his back? No? Well refresh your memory HERE...

Make mine cheesy...

2011-10-05T23:23:00.000-07:00

WRITER'S WORKSHOP PROMPT:
TELL US ABOUT YOUR SONG...

I L-O-V-E our song, "When I See You Smile" by Bad English. I L-O-V-E it so much that I painted it over our bed. And I L-O-V-E the fact that when my daughter Paige suggested that Rick and I take a picture by our sign, Rick actually jumped up and did it (complete with a cheesy grin) even though ( as you can see by the fact that he is wearing his comfortable shorts) he had settled in for the evening-- flipping between a Diamondbacks game and a John Wayne movie no less.
That's love baby. True love.

I thought about trying to explain all of the whys for my love of this song, but I decided to let a sampling of the words speak for themselves.

Sometimes I wonder if I'd ever make it through
Through this world without having you, I just wouldn't have a clue
'Cuz sometimes it seems like this world's closing in on me
And there's no way of breaking free, and then I see you reach for me

Sometimes I wanna give up, I wanna give in, I wanna quit the fight
And then I see you baby, and everything's alright, everything's alright

When I see you smile, I can face the world, oh oh, you know I can do anything
When I see you smile, I see a ray of light, oh oh I see it shining right thru the rain
When I see you smile, baby when I see you smile at me, oh yeah

Baby there's nothing in this world that could ever do
What a touch of your hand can do, it's like nothing that I ever knew hey

And when the rain is falling, I don't feel it, 'cuz you're here with me now
And one look at you baby, is all I'll ever need, it's all I'll ever need...

That in a nutshell sums up our relationship. Support, strength, love, laughter and plenty of smiles. There's not a person alive who makes me smile more than that man o' mine.

And if I'm ever being a downer and forget how important my smiles are to him, remembering one of my favorite quotes always gets me back to being Miss Nice Girl (sorry I don't know who said it)

Take bread away from me, if you wish,
take air away, but
do not take from me your laughter.
... it opens for me all
the doors of life.

Love. That. Quote. Smiles and Laughter are among the most powerful forces on earth. And if you don't believe me, just watch the video to our song HERE. And see how happy you feel after laughing at John Waite's hair.

I don't often play by the rules...

2011-10-04T09:01:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I woke up to October. Well actually I'd awaken to October a couple of days before that as well, but because I had other things on my mind those other days... Yesterday I woke up to October.

And I said to myself, "Self, it's October! We should decorate for Halloween!" To which myself replied, "Well, do you think we should clean then decorate or decorate then clean?"

Hmm, what a quandary. Clean, decorate? Decorate, clean?

Logic would say, make your house all spiffy lovely then decorate. It's the right thing to do.

But I don't like logic, especially in matters of creativity. Logic stifles creativity. Logic is a killjoy. So I argue with logic and say, but if I decorate first then I'll get all jazzed, pumped up and excited and I'll clean up speedy quick so as to be able to show off the splendor of my creation. And all will be well in my world Mr. Logic. All will be well.

But it's not the right thing to do. Logic protests with a firm stance and stern glare.

And I sheepishly ponder the question again... Clean then decorate? Decorate then clean? Hmm...

So what would you do?

And what do you think I did?

Surf and Turf...

2011-09-28T20:08:00.000-07:00

WRITER'S WORKSHOP PROMPT:
A Memorable Fishing Trip...

Once upon a time, I went away to college and decided that cowboys were very HOTT!!! Which was unusual as I had never thought much of them in high school.

If I recall correctly, the cowboys at my high school just hung out in the far corner of the parking lot, listened to country music (blah) and smoked. At least I think they smoked. Did they smoke?

And I belonged to the big hair, guess jeans and alternative rock/pop crowd.

And please tell me that when you weren't out and about in your guess jeans you were at home in your mens boxer shorts (and a very over sized shirt, seriously why am I wearing that tent) tell me that you wore guess jeans and or mens boxers and I'll tell you that you are my people.

But in college things were different,(though I still had big hair, guess jeans and popular music) because in college cowboys were HOTT!!!

So once upon a time when one of the HOTT college cowboys called and asked me if I wanted to go fishing with him I said YESSSS, don't mind if I do.

And that's when I caught my very first ever fish (a trout I believe)

Out yonder there on my fishing date with the cowboy

Then we all went to the home of my cowboy date's cowboy friend and ate steak (?)

And the cowboys accepted me into their secret cowboy society when I proclaimed it a sin to put sauce (of any kind) on a steak (my daddy raised me right). And life was good.

...later that summer (when we were all back home) the cowboy wrote me a letter while out on the range of Montana (my cowboy date was a real life cowboy) and told me how thinking about me kept him warm at night (I swear we only went on that one fishing date and we never even kissed).

But sadly I never wrote him back because I had fallen in love with a non-cowboy back home.

And I'm so very glad I did.

Group dating...

2011-09-20T09:43:00.000-07:00

Contrary to popular belief, when a girl gets asked to homecoming by two different boys on the same night she does not exclaim, "Woo-hoo, lucky me!" (though she is very flattered and grateful)

In reality when a girl returns to her car after her amazing choral concert (Marlee really was amazing at her concert last night and I'm pretty much a dud for not taking my camera) to find balloons and a cake waiting for her then whilst hurrying home to find out who they are from, receives a phone call from her dad saying, "There are roses and chocolate here for you..." she does not say, "Woo-hoo, lucky me!" But... "Oh no." and "Oh dear." and "This is really bad." and "What should I do?" and "I feel awful." And the like.

And then she frets and stews and sighs and calls her friends and drives to her friend's house for a pow-wow and worries and stews some more (because she would fancy going with either boy and doesn't want to tell one no). It's a tough thing I tell you. A very tough thing indeed.

Fortunately for the girl however, there is a rule of etiquette put into place that protects against such a situation as this. The rule of etiquette that states (and correct me if I'm wrong) that it is only proper for a girl to accept the offer of he who asks first

...even if it was only five minutes before.

So what have you been up to?...

2011-07-18T08:44:00.000-07:00

For reasons I do not wish to discuss, I have had need to be very nice to myself as of late. No really. Niceness to myself has been imperative to my survival. It's true. And therefore I have spent most days in ratty jeans and or pajamas--because though being nice to oneself for some might involve stiletto heels and a french manicure, for me it means ratty clothes, a messy ponytail and absolutely no makeup-- and while hanging about in my tattered state, I have found that the art of thumbing through old magazines has become very therapeutic for me.

Well not just thumbing through them exactly, but thumbing through them in order to rip out words, phrases and pictures that uplift and delight my senses. You see I have turned into Templeton from Charlotte's Web--scavenging ever scavenging for the perfect word. Of course after my role as Templeton is complete I then become Charlotte herself, spinning a web (or in this case a poster) of inspirational delight. And then alas it is Wilbur I emulate, dancing and flipping about under my web (or posters) of blissful affirmation.

That's right--I'm some terrific, radiant, humble pig and I'm gonna be just fine.

P.S.
If you're wondering what I plan to do with all of my webs (or posters) of blissful affirmation, I'm using them for a project I'm working on in my new creative/writing room. I can't wait to finish it so I can show y'all. It's sure to be fabulous. I think.

Lucky me...

2011-06-11T23:12:00.000-07:00

Tonight while trying to watch a movie with Rick, two of my little ones came into our room and started arguing over who got to have "mommy and me time". I tried to tell them that they could both spend time with me but that I would first like to finish my movie so please go upstairs and wait. They were reluctant, unhappy and in need of my time and attention so I asked myself, "hey self, can this silly movie bring even a fraction of the fulfillment and joy to your life that these little ones are offering you right now?" To which I answered myself, "Um no self I don't believe it can." So I walked away from the movie, gave each of my little ones a piggy back ride up the stairs to the family room, where we sat together and read "Stone Soup" (I loved that story as a kid) and it was quite lovely.

Later as I stood in my kitchen preparing a roast for tomorrow's dinner I thought to myself how very lucky I am to have so many people who want to spend their time with me. I'm very loved and this is a wonderful feeling indeed. And as the words to the hymn "Have I done any good in the world today" played through my mind this evening (as it often does when I replay my day) instead of feeling like a bit of a failure for not reaching out to do this that or the other for my neighbors and friends, I thought of my sweet little family and answered...
Yes, yes I have.

In the pink...

2011-06-08T17:17:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time I fell in love with a pink voice recorder so I bought it. Which lead to the decision to start writing again (after a really cool experience that I will share later). Which lead to a decision to turn the loft space in my house into a creative space--a really fun, funky, shabby chic, dripping with girly goodness creative space--which lead to my search for a fun, funky, shabby chic, dripping with girly goodness desk and or table of some sort.

Which lead to my finding this at an antique mall (the top is metal, so cool)...

Which lead to me now having the happy task of decorating my new creative space around this cute little find. And oh the ideas I have. So fun.

And now--though there is a ornery, naughty little part of me that likes having it out there (for reasons I will not discuss here)-- I need to figure out what to do with the ginormous sectional that is filling my entire front porch. Hmm...

but please hold the bull...

2011-05-26T11:43:00.000-07:00

So I'm watching American Idol last night (me and a ba-jillion other people mind you... and yes I'm pleased with the winner but I would have been pleased either way because I liked them both) and I felt happy down to my happy bones (are there happy bones?) that Scotty sang with Mr. Tim Mcgraw himself. Now y'all know that I am not generally a country girl when it comes to music--unless of course the music is just right (for me mind you, you can like whatever you want) and I likes me some Tim Mcgraw and I also really likes me some Randy Travis and young Mr Scotty has some similarities to Mr. Travis wouldn't you say? Well I would.

So as I was saying, my happiness meter went up a little bit when I saw them singing together especially because they sang "Live Like You Were Dying" and I like that song. Yes I do. And now that song (that I like) is very much stuck in my head which has left me to ponder, "What would I do to live like I were dying?"

So I went through Mr. Mcgraw's list...

Skydiving
Rocky Mountain climbing
2.7 seconds on a bull named Fu Man Choo
Love deeper
Talk sweeter
Give forgiveness I've been denying
Watch an eagle while it was flying

Hmm...

I think I'd say yes on everything but the skydiving and bull riding (although when I discussed this matter with Waylon he lit up (like you've never seen a boy light up) over the prospect of getting to ride a bull. Seriously so excited. Guess he has a little of his Grandpa in him).

You know, I'll have to work on my list of things I'd want to accomplish if I knew my days were numbered (because they really are if you think about it, even if I have 50 to 60 years of them left) but for now I know the most important thing that I'd want to do is spend time being perfectly plugged in and present in my husband and children's lives. And right up there in importance to me would be to keep a journal. Because I know when we lose someone we love we want to hold on to any precious little tidbit of memory from the life they left behind.

So I'll continue to visit this blog to leave little pieces of me behind because even as insignificant as I may sometimes feel, I know there are people who love me just the way I am, people who will miss me when I'm gone and who will want to remember what I had to say while I was here...

And this is my gift to them.

P.S.
Another thing I'd add to my list would be to post a video of me singing "Live Like You Were Dying" here on this blog (I've been belting it out here at home let me tell you). Not because I sing well and I want you all to Ooo and Ahh over me but because I sing mediocre at best and well,
that's the whole point...

"You've gotta dance like there's nobody watching,
Love like you'll never be hurt,
Sing like there's nobody listening,
And live like it's heaven on earth."
— William W. Purkey

The time I fell in love...

2011-05-24T08:44:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time I fell in love... but then that's jumping ahead in the story, it should really begin like this...

Once upon a time (about a week ago) I stopped to recognize that many times throughout my day my mind is flooded with thoughts. Whether they be thoughts to be added to a book manuscript or thoughts to be shared in a letter to a friend or thoughts for my children or other loved ones, thoughts on gospel principles, motivational thoughts for myself and others, thoughts on how to better navigate my way through this crazy world, thoughts, thoughts, thoughts all day long thoughts. I really do have a dizzying mind it's true.

Problem is I never take the time to write these thoughts down and sadly most of them get lost. So I said to myself, "Hey self, why don't you get a handy dandy voice recorder for your thoughts? You could keep it in your pocket all day long (for your all day long thoughts) then write down what you recorded before you go to bed at night." And then I said back to myself, "Hey self, I like that idea."

So I visited Amazon.com and that's when it happened... that's when I fell in love. Because there amongst all of the practical, professional looking voice recorders was this sweet little beauty IN PINK. Now I usually don't let myself get so silly over silly matters like this (it was a little more expensive and took a little longer to ship) but this little voice recorder spoke to me ( :} ) and it made my heart sing. And since I'm using it for creative purposes I decided that was a very good foot to start off on. Yes I did.

Now if I could only figure out how to set it up. Hmm...

Oh well my kids will be done with finals soon so maybe they can help their poor technology un-savvy mother out (what can I say, I've never even owned an MP3 player before. Well, until now because my precious little pink is one of those too. Happiness.)

Listen to your heart...

2011-05-23T09:50:00.000-07:00

I stayed up til three in the morning last night (something I've been doing a lot lately) and in the course of my staying up I watched some episodes of Oprah that I had on my DVR, my favorite of which was a show she did on her all time favorite guests.

As I watched a wise young boy explain his philosophy on life I began to wonder what my "heart song" is. Really, what is my truest deepest heart song?

Later in the show a woman from Zimbabwe (I believe) spoke of how--though she faced many obstacles-- she was able to write her greatest dreams down on a piece of paper then bury it under a rock. And now many years later every dream on that paper (and they weren't small) has been fulfilled. So again this caused me to wonder, what dreams would I want to bury under a rock?

And then I cried a little (people who are staying up until three in the morning watching Oprah generally have something that they want to cry about) because the only dream I really have for myself at present is the dream of running away, growing a beard (perhaps bushy leg hair would be more achievable) and becoming a hermit, happily separating myself from the human race forever more (of course my husband and kids would have an open invitation to visit anytime).

Have I lost faith in the human race (myself being included in that group)? No, and I never will. I can't have an absolute testimony of the atonement of my Savior Jesus Christ without having absolute faith in man's ability to overcome and triumph. I just wouldn't mind taking a break from the frailties of those in the human race for awhile (myself being included in that group) because staying up til three in the morning to watch Oprah may be enlightening, but oh am I tired.

So very, very tired.

Can you picture that...

2011-05-18T12:35:00.000-07:00

Remember this?

Of course you do. It's my visualization board and I've only showed it to you like 9 o'billion times. But that's only because I love it soooo much. I really do.

And now guess what (brace yourselves)...

I've made another one!!!

Ain't it so purty that you just can't stand it?

Well it is to me. But then I have a deep burning love for words, colors, pictures and metaphors. I've decided that I am a metaphor savant. It's true. You should hear what some of the pictures and phrases on this board mean to me. My girls laugh but I don't care because I'm telling you these boards really work.

And now my new board resides on my bedroom wall right next to my old one (along with a picture so graciously painted for me by my darling Marlee). They are the first things I see when I open my eyes in the morning, bringing instant happiness to my little world.

Words are very powerful. I think we all know this. So why not hand pick the words that will greet you each new day? Why not indeed. I know I will. Yep, I'll keep hand picking new words throughout the years until my entire wall is covered in them.

I get all goosebumpy just thinking about it. For real.

My morning thoughts...

2011-05-17T10:08:00.000-07:00

Living in the "NOW" means that I get to find joy in simply watching Jamie wake up and reach for the orthopedic shoe I wore after I broke my foot. She hurt her foot the other day while playing with water in the wheelbarrow and has worn that shoe everyday since. It is too big on her and it's terribly unattractive but she wears it with such pride--a visible injury is GOLD to most kids.

I find joy in letting my kids choose how they will express themselves in this world. I'll admit that it's hard sometimes to watch some of the outfits--conjured up by imaginative hands--walk out of the house and into the big wide cruel world. It's hard not to cry out, "Conform, conform, conform--fit in with the crowd." But I don't want to do that to my kids. They are so creative and confident about which side of that line in the sand they want to stand and I never want to break that spirit.

I myself fight everyday with the notion that I must live, be, look a certain way to fit in and be admired. The voices of the world--who have traded their souls for a chance to be "normal"--ring in my ears and give me a headache. So I'm rebelling, a little each day, I'm rebelling against those voices that try to tell me that there is only one way to be if one is to be truly happy, because I'm learning that this "one perfect way" is not making me happy at all.

I do not wish to live a life of conformity. I want to make decisions based on what I feel not on what I'm "supposed" to feel. Perhaps that is why I stayed in my pajamas the entire day yesterday. I didn't lounge in them but I worked, played and lived in them. Yes all day, with a "Mrs. Goodkind" bun pulled tightly atop my head to boot (Mrs. Goodkind was a character from one of my favorite children's books, "The Firehouse Cat" and I would often feel troubled that she chose to wear such an ugly bun in her hair and felt quite certain that she would be much prettier if she let it down).

Yesterday I didn't feel the need to conform to "beauty". Yesterday I felt a little feisty and rebellious and happy to simply be present in the moment. And moment after moment of my day seemed to call for nothing grander than pajamas and a bad hair-do. So I simply lived what I felt and it was lovely.

And today? Well, today I feel like getting dressed. So that's just what I'm going to do.

A happy day for a crazy gal...

2011-05-09T11:33:00.000-07:00

As you may be aware, yesterday was Mother's Day.
As you may also be aware, I am the mother of a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
As you may further be aware, I receive a phone call from my missionary son twice a year. On Christmas and on Mother's Day.

So yesterday was a very, very good Mother's Day for me indeed.

A talk to my son for THREE WHOLE HOURS and let the house get all messy kind of Mother's Day (of course we let the house get all messy every Sunday but whatever) and it was fabulous.

Being a mom is the bestest best thing in the world. It really is.

Every kid should get to live near a cousin...

2011-05-02T10:13:00.000-07:00

"Yep, he's dead." Waylon announced as he and his cousin Jonah checked on the baby bird that they had tried to save the night before (they saved it from a cat's mouth. Perhaps it would have been better to let the cat finish the job, but hey, they had to try--right?).

"Well, we're learning about the cycles of nature." Waylon continued, "And this is one of the cycles of nature."

"Yeah... dying." Jonah whispered solemnly.

"People die all the time." Waylon added, "It's just one of those things."

Jonah and Waylon have the best conversations. I love listening to them (especially when they don't know I'm there). Waylon is a very matter of fact, "this is just how life goes" kind of kid and Jonah is very mindful and tender hearted, but they will both fiercely defend their point of view and they are both extraordinary story tellers. Seriously, they scare each other to death all of the time. Jonah had Waylon so scared of a bully at school named Tony that Waylon was ready to call off his education all together.

"I think Jonah is just telling you a story." I told Waylon.

"No he's not." Waylon insisted. "Tony gave Jonah a bloody lip and sent him to the hospital and everything." (Okay, I'm thinking the family chat lines would have been lit up had this really happened.)

"Waylon I'm pretty sure Jonah is just messing with you." I reassured him again.

"No mom it's true. Tony is the worst bully at school and I don't want to go back there."

"Well do you know Tony's last name so I can talk to the teacher about it?" I asked.

"Yeah his last name is Hawk, Tony Hawk."

Tony Hawk?

Um... yeah.

So cute.

Letters from Landon, thou shalt not kill edition...

2011-04-26T08:44:00.000-07:00

As I've mentioned before, Monday is email day from our dear Mr. Landon. Have I told you that I love email day? Well, I do. And I love this experience that Landon shared with us yesterday. So much so that I want to share it with you.

So without further ado I give you an excerpt from our~

LETTERS FROM LANDON

...another day this week we came in an hour early and i felt like we should go walk around the local area. we went, knocked on a couple doors, nothing happened. we were walking through the parking lot to go in for the night when a man called after us. we walked up to him to see he had tears just streaming down his face. he said he needed us to say a prayer with him. he was really angry at someone and was contemplating going to their house and killing them. we got down on the ground of that parking lot and prayed with him, after that we talked to him for a while to calm him down. we felt prompted to give him a Book of Mormon and gave him a chapter to read. he said he would go home and read it right then and go to sleep afterward. a few days later we saw him again, he told us "i've been reading that book you gave me, i read a lot of it. It helped me out so much. I'm not angry at that man anymore. and usually by this time I start drinking, but right now i'm just sticking with tea" It was a miracle to say the least. Dad, I know this work is true and that is why all these struggles are worth it. They are totally worth it. I just wish there was more i could do, just like Alma says "oh, that I were an angel".

Have I told you that I love that kid?
Well, I do.

Hope Springs Eternal...

2011-04-18T09:06:00.000-07:00

(Rick was trying to make a serious, sophisticated expression, but he kinda just looks mad. The silly)

We just got back from an amazing weekend adventure, my husband and I. So amazing, so uplifting, so life changing. Seriously WE ARE HAVING THE TIME OF OUR LIVES.

At one point over the weekend Rick said, "This sure beats being at work."

I then reminded him, "This is our work! And most likely will be our FULL-TIME work someday!"

Pinch me.

I can't believe I'm involved in something that does so much good for so many people and fills me with warm fuzzy happiness, encouraging me to love and be loved, nearly everyday of my life.

I can't believe I'm involved in something that promotes change in my life and helps me to contribute to the change in others.

Those who read this blog know that the idea of personal progression is one of my favorite things about being alive, so to be involved in a career choice that lets me focus on progression in life, in hope, and in happiness is a bit surreal to say the least.

Life is a gift and my gratitude runneth over.

My own tug of war...

2011-04-06T08:57:00.000-07:00

I'm participating in "Pour your heart out" today because I've always wanted to but never have and sometimes you just need to take the time to do things that you've always wanted to do but never have--dontcha think?

Once upon a time I did a lot of pouring my heart out on this blog. But that was once upon a time when my life felt very out of balance and I wanted to knock my head into a brick wall, but I don't feel that way so much anymore-- well unless you're talking about being out of balance with myself.

You see it's like this...

Sometimes I'll wear a flower in my hair or the like. An act that makes my sophisticated side cringe. My sophisticated side says, "get that flower out of your hair and act like a grown-up." My sophisticated side can be a real downer. But my artistic side argues with her and says, "Leave me alone. I like the flower. Color and texture make me happy so la." (my sisters and I used to always say "so la" when we wanted to do something and someone disagreed with us).

My sophisticated side likes to decorate very neatly and precise and to have my house look like a model home. Ms. sophisticate painted this family room in Gilbert (okay so she has a tad bit artsy in her too).

My artistic side would like to paint every wall a different color with maybe a mural or two for good measure (that's right I said mural). Ms. Artistic painted this living room in Gilbert. Yes living room. The first thing you saw if you visited our home. Ms. Artistic is crazy like that.

So what I'm saying is that I'm at odds with myself. I really am. Part of me wants nothing more than to be an eccentric artist who wears only paint splattered overalls (I currently do not own paint splattered overalls but I really want some) and funny hats-- and another part of me wants to wear high heels, skinny jeans and celebrity style hair extensions (I don't currently own celebrity hair either).

Ms. Artistic would argue that the eccentric artist look would require far less maintenance and would be far better for easing into old age (long, spirally gray hair and wrinkles would only enhance the look). While Ms. sophisticate whines, "But high heels are cute and if you work hard you can keep your body nice for a long time. Remember Susan Lucci on Oprah the other day? We can be like her."

Sometimes I do want to work hard so that I can look like Susan Lucci as I age but other times I just want to look like this...

And sometimes I wouldn't mind acting like Weezer either (I don't have any Weezer in me. Seriously. none. But sometimes I think it would be fun) But most of the time I'm happy being soft and kind hearted. I want to be sophisticated but I also want to be bold. I want to be normal but I also want to be eccentric. It's an all out war I tell you (and this is just a small sample of it), a war that can get rather exhausting. So exhausting in fact that I'm tired of talking about it.

So the only question left is this...

Do I go work on the talk that I have to give on Saturday or do I paint the whimsical picture that I've been wanting to hang in my bedroom?

Hmm...

Only the noble, chivalrous and kind need apply...

2011-04-05T12:56:00.000-07:00

(we took this picture shortly before moving here (my girls and their cousin) would you just look at how fast time is racing by. It's just plain crazy I tell you)

My sister in-law sent me a link yesterday that made me cry. Click HERE to see why. Seriously incredible.

After watching this incredible video I proclaimed that I wanted one of my daughters to marry Spencer, a young man featured in the video, because he is exactly the kind of person I want them to have for their happily ever afters. Yes he is.

I know that he is too young for some, too old for others but I don't care we must snag him as one of our own. We simply must.

After showing the video to my kids, Jamie said, "Oh look, over 5,000 people have watched this already. That means a lot of other mom's probably want him for their daughters too."

"I know." I said, "I bet they've all signed their daughters up to be his wife."

Hearing this, Waylon craned his head back and with a puzzled look asked, "Wait, you can do that?"

"Yep." I answered, " I've already got you all signed up with your wife. Do you want to know who she is?" Nervous laughter ensued and I think he was very relieved when I told him I was only kidding.

Even though I can't really pick my future kiddos in-law I'll let you in on a little secret (what harm could it do? You already know I'm a goofy one) I can't wait to meet them all someday and I often pray for them. It's true. I pray for their happiness. I pray that they'll be able to withstand temptations and sorrows in their lives. I pray that they will have experiences that will lead them to truth, joy and strength, and I pray for them and my own kiddos that when they find each other they'll know it and that they'll get it right (remember how close Rick and I came to missing each other. Yikes. What a sad thing that would have been).

So maybe I'm strange, but I don't care. We're talking about the happily ever afters of my children here. If that's not worthy of some divine intervention I just don't know what is.

Weekend splendor...

2011-04-04T11:15:00.000-07:00

I

It started with a much needed date night, this weekend of mine, and ended with some much needed, much appreciated and very much loved spiritual edification found through general conference.

For those who don't know, general conference is a semi-annual event where members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (and non members alike who feel so inclined to watch it) gather for some fabulously fabulous spiritual instruction and edification. Did I mention that it's fabulous? Well it is.

Anyway, that's how I spent the majority of my weekend and I feel very blessed because of it.

After one session of conference a wonderful program called "Turning Point" came on and boy howdy did we cry watching that. It's amazing how beautifully God orchestrates our lives. A-ma-zing.

Later as Rick and I snuggled together on the couch he asked, "Did you ever imagine that marriage would be this wonderful?"

"I don't know." I answered. "But I know I never thought it would be bad." (I grew up with examples of happy marriage all around me). We then spoke of what would have happened if I had never called him back after our break-up. I said, "Well I couldn't get you out of my mind so I had to call." He said, "I couldn't get you out of my mind either but I didn't know what to do about it."

He said his heart was pounding so hard when he heard my voice on the phone. I said mine was pounding too because I didn't know if he was going to tell me to get lost.

But he didn't tell me to get lost.

And I was happy.

It was our very own turning point.

And boy was it a good one.

The time I was saved from being a fool on April fools...

2011-04-01T12:10:00.000-07:00

Often times the Lord blesses me in spite of myself, a fact that I am very grateful for.

Take this morning for instance...

Now it is no secret that I am not an organized person by nature. So it came as little surprise that with only 10 minutes left before Waylon had to catch the bus for school today, I suddenly remembered that he needed five filled plastic Easter eggs, and a packed lunch to boot, for a school picnic. Granted, ten minutes would have been plenty of time to accomplish these tasks IF I HAD ANY PLASTIC EASTER EGGS IN THE HOUSE. Which I didn't. Or so I thought. But just as I started to break the news to my poor unfortunate son that his mother is a twit (I'm sorry I just love the movie "Matilda") and therefore he would have to miss the picnic that he had so looked forward to, a picture came to my mind in perfect clarity as to where some eggs had been stashed some years ago (when you're unorganized you rarely recall where you stash things. It's sad.)

So I quickly retrieved the eggs, filled them with candy that I had forgotten to put into one of Landon's care packages (blessing #2) and frantically ran to the kitchen to throw a lunch together. Only I didn't have to throw a lunch together because as Easton was leaving for school this morning she remembered a pizza party promised by her teacher and left her lunch behind (#3).

Sometimes I feel unworthy of such tender mercies, being that I am a twit after all :) , but I am so thankful for a loving Savior who-- while encouraging me to continue to work hard at becoming all that I can be-- still sends me precious reminders that He loves me just the way I am.

Amazing.

Like you didn't already know I'm strange...

2011-03-29T08:02:00.000-07:00

"Ooo, what if there was a Justin Bieber Just Dance game? Now that would be something." I asked Jamie on our ride home from school while shamelessly bopping to "Baby, baby, baby oh..." in the driver's seat.

"Um, yeah." She answered sheepishly. Then with a nervous smile and an apologetic tone she added, "Mom, I have to tell you something. I've kind of lost the Bieber fever. I'm sorry but ever since I saw Rustin Hieber on youtube I remembered how much fun it used to be to make fun of Justin Bieber and I really want to make fun of him again with Easton, Cora and Kimmie. So I'm just over him now."

It was at this point that I should have wiped my brow, let out a big old "Whew" of relief and switched discs (being that this Bieber fever affair had started so that Jamie and I could have something special to share together) but I didn't. I continued to listen, sing, dance and make obnoxious tweeny-bopper hand jesters to match the painfully tweeny-bopperesque lyrics (have you ever made a heart symbol with your fingers? Now that's a good time).

So whatever. I'll admit it. I've still got the fever for the Bieber, independent of my 9 year old daughter, because--and say what you will about my sanity--his music puts me in an instant good mood.

And wouldn't you agree that more instant good moods are exactly what's needed in this big old crazy world of ours right now?

I think you would. So go find your instant good mood maker today. And if you don't have one try this...

"Shawty is an eenie, meenie, miney moe lover. Shawty is an eenie, meenie, miney moe lover..."

Now that's gold baby. Pure warm fuzzy, happy dance gold.

Don't believe me? Check it out HERE and thank me later for the happiness that takes over your body.

There's hope yet...

2011-03-22T08:08:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time I set a goal to be fabulous. Fabulous by forty. Once upon a time I decided that fabulousness included clean closets. Once upon a time I cleaned my closets but shortly there after I found out that some fabulous people are of the clean closet variety while other fabulous people are not. In other words, my closets quickly fell into disarray and I had to learn that I can be a fabulous work in progress and that's okay. As long as I stay "in progress".

So while trying to stay "in progress" I'm forever working to improve myself by study and listening to those who are fabulous in ways that I am not. One such person is Randy Pausch of "The Last Lecture" fame. If you haven't watched the last lecture watch it HERE. It's fabulously fabulous.

I love Randy Pausch. He keeps my dreams of fabulousness alive even when forces around me would tell me it's hopeless. Therefore I try to watch, read or listen to anything I can find with his name attached to it. One such lecture I recently watched was this one HERE on the subject of time management, wherein he spoke of procrastination and gave the following advice...

"If you have to eat a frog, don't look at it first. And if you have to eat three frogs, don't save the biggest one for last."

Fabulous. So fabulous in fact that I taught it to my children.

Fast forward to yesterday...

Yesterday I stood in my bedroom and declared, "Ugh, I have to eat this frog today and I better not look at it first." (at present my room is very messy)

To which Waylon replied, "Yeah, and you shouldn't save the biggest frog for last so I think you better start with your closet."

Six years old and he already gets it.

Now that's fabulous.

Yo, Adrian...

2011-03-17T08:03:00.000-07:00

It's springtime, which means I now look like this.

No, not like the saxy lady... more like the oozing toad creature.
Yes that is me--an allergy stricken, oozing toad creature
and I'm pretty much sick of it.

And to make matters worse, yesterday I accidentally ate something that I'm allergic to (ever hear of the food coloring, carmine? Well it hates me)
so now I'm an oozing toad creature with puffy, goopy, swollen painful eyes.
Just call me Rocky Balboa. So nice.

I wonder if they'll notice at my parent teacher conferences today.
Perhaps a pair of sunglasses are in order.
What do you think of people who wear sunglasses indoors?
Drug addict? Hangover? Battered wife? Diva? Socially bizarre?

Hmm, maybe I'd be better off to just go with the oozing toad creature look.

But then again...

Such sorrow...

2011-03-14T10:18:00.000-07:00

I have two favorite days of the week since my Landon has been gone, Monday and Friday. Monday because I get an email from Landon and Friday because I get a letter in the mail from Landon.

But this Monday is different, this Monday is not my favorite, this Monday is my very un-favorite. Because this Monday my Landon is on daylight savings time (we don't change time in Arizona) and this Monday he was at the library an hour earlier than usual and this Monday my email was later than usual so HE DIDN'T GET IT!

You see I had many interruptions this Monday whilst trying to get my email done, several of which were from my darling, love of my life husband who kept calling me (we were apart all weekend so he had much he desired to discuss with me). Each time he called I said, "I've got to get this email done, let me call you back." Well shortly after our last conversation he called me back and said, "You better send that email quick, Landon has already written to me this morning!"

Panic stricken, I added "Love, Mom" to what I had written and hit send only to find when I checked my mail that he had written me a half hour earlier. A HALF AN HOUR. Missionaries are not known to loiter around (they have much to do you know) so the likelihood of him still being there to receive my email is not very good at all. And now I am so very sad, making this a very awful Monday indeed.

The thought of my baby boy (who will be 20 this month btw) going throughout his day believing that his mother didn't even care enough to send him an email is killing me right now. It's a dagger protruding right out of my chest I tell you. A dagger dipped in poison.

I've had several dreams since becoming a mother where I find myself away from my children for one reason or another and spend the rest of the dream frantically racing to get back to them. It's a terrible, helpless feeling... much like what I'm feeling now. The only way for me to reach Landon at this point is through snail mail and that takes a few days and that's just a few days too many for this dagger pierced heart of mine.

Melodramatic? Maybe, but he is my baby boy (20 years old or not) after all.

...and I miss him.

P.S.
I wrote over here today too...

I'll have the gumbo with a side of joy please...

2011-02-23T12:03:00.000-08:00

WRITER'S WORKSHOP PROMPT:
Lesson learned...

I recently learned a valuable lesson from a well known financial guru who said, "Once you make the decision to spend money on something you better enjoy it. If you don't find joy in what you decide to do then the money is wasted."

"Hello..." I answered back (to myself). Of course, it's about the joy. Life is all about living, loving, experiencing and finding joy {in a responsible manner of course :) }

So when Rick and I went away for our anniversary over the weekend and dined at a yummy restaurant where we may have ordered 3 different appetizers (we just had to try all of them) and some fabulous entrées (that came with bread and salad mind you) and I became very full midway through my fabulous entrée and began to attempt to finish all of it... because that's what you do when you spend a lot of money on an entrée at a restaurant (and can't take it home because you're not going home) you force yourself to finish it so you don't waste your money or your food... I suddenly stopped eating and said, "Wait a minute. This isn't about the food, it's about the joy."

We had gone out to that restaurant that night--deciding to spend a chunk of our hard earned change--to be alone together and to ENJOY one another and when I realized that I had accomplished that objective, the guilt for not "finishing my plate" or "getting the full value" was gone. I had spent my money on joy and my joy (along with my belly) was full.

So I set down my fork, sat back in my seat, and enjoyed the rest of my evening with my amazing husband (and no stomach ache).

Fabulous.

What a wonderful lesson learned.

He's a keeper...

2011-02-16T21:21:00.001-08:00

Writer's Workshop Prompt:

Husbands. A post that hopefully will not get you in trouble.

Today we celebrate 21 years together.
*
Guess he must be doing something right.

Desperate in the bedroom...

2011-02-15T10:14:00.000-08:00

I stayed up late watching "In the Bedroom with Dr Laura Ber-something or other" last night on the OWN network (Oprah's new gig). Why? Because it sucked me in when I had finished watching "Searching for..." (a show about finding lost loved ones. I'm a sucker for that stuff) and I couldn't stop watching it even though it's a show about a couple's dysfunctional love life in the bedroom. Hence the name. Why I felt the need to stay up late watching a show about a couple's dysfunctional love life is beyond me. But I did it anyway.

But this post isn't about that exactly. What it's about is something that was said on that show about the bedroom in general. The couple said they felt depressed every time they came into their bedroom and Dr Laura said that made her sad when couples say that.

Then I thought--well I feel depressed every time I come into my bedroom too Dr. Laura.
Only my depression has nothing to do with my love life so I'm guessing she probably wouldn't care.

What I suffer from is a bad case of decor depression. It's a well known fact (because sometimes I'm a whiner baby) that I hate my bedroom. Hate it. It's a terrible layout so the furniture only fits in one way (and I happen to hate the one way it fits in) and it's dark, gloomy, depressing and sad. So what do you think of that Dr. Laura?

I need a bedroom makeover. But I'm not really sure what I want. Part of me likes the idea of a simple, minimalist room with not much going on and lots of empty floor space (of course my room's too small for lots of empty floor space but whatever).

But a different part of me likes a room where my eyes can flit around like a happy little bird with several textures and colors to land on.

(I know this isn't a bedroom, but just look at all of those textures and colors. joy.)

So here I find myself, decor depressed and desperate (okay so maybe not desperate but still).

Maybe I should call out a favor from that storage unit guy I sleep with and put all but my mattress in storage, start with a clean pallet and see what I come up with.

And call me crazy, but that pink is really speaking to me. I wonder if that storage unit guy would still sleep with me in a pink bedroom. Hmm...

Yep, I've caught it...

2011-02-14T07:44:00.000-08:00

Being that it's Valentine's Day I feel it only fitting that I use this time to introduce you to my new love.

You see our relationship started out as a joke. I'd scream, "I love you Justin Bieber!" (mostly because his name is so fun to say) and beg my children to buy his T-shirts or posters for me on all major holidays. They never did.

To be honest I didn't really even know who the boy was. I knew he was some little kid that little girls (and some older girls) went gah-gah over but I had never heard one of his songs.

Until...

Saturday night I took my youngest three chickens to see his new movie and-- I'm not too proud to admit that-- we HAD A GREAT TIME. And I'm also not too proud to admit that I kinda like that Justin kid.

His tunes are kinda catchy (in an innocent little kid kind of way) and perfect for sharing with my little ones. Being a mom is so fun and there is nothing better than seeing little faces light up when they think you love the same things they love. It's seriously one of the great joys of motherhood that no one tells you about.

So now Jamie and I have been struck with Bieber Fever. Yeah, we got it bad. And I'm having the time of my life sharing that with her.

Ain't love grand...

p.s.
the movie also had some powerful messages in it about stick-to-itiveness and creating the life that you want. I may have even had a few epiphanies while watching it. But then I'm always having epiphanies so what do I know.

p.p.s.
Marlee says, "So Mom do you say you love Wolverine just so you can see my face light up?"
Uh, no Marlee... No, yummy, heck no!

p.p.p.s.
In honor of Valentine's Day, there's a picture of me with someone I love posted over on Busy Bee Lauren's Blog HERE
If you are a reader of my blog you will recognize the picture, if not--well you probably won't.
Anyhoo, go check it out and tell me if you find it and then tell me how glad you are that I sent you to BBL's blog because I'm telling you that girl makes me smile. She's just so cute.

chugga, chugga, choo, choo...

2011-02-11T10:59:00.000-08:00

I've been really lazy about taking...loading...printing pictures lately. My poor dear son serving far away in South Carolina asks frequently for us to please send photos but I don't do it because I'm being lazy and terribly rude. Poor kid.

Anyway, I think it's easier to stay in the blogging spirit when one stays in the picture taking spirit-- therefore the condition of my blog has been blah as of late. It's sad really and I'm sorry. well kinda.

But what hasn't been blah as of late is my overall spirit in general. This is a time for amazing growth in my life. I'm pushing myself beyond anything I have done before and let me tell you it can be super scary at times, like "I think I'd rather crawl under a rock and throw up" kind of scary but that's okay. There's been an awakening in my soul. I've thought of the phrase, "best life by design" over and over again and realized, "Yes, this is my life to design and I can do it."

Because the difference between those who create success in their lives and those who don't is not based on who's the stronger or the braver (because believe me I'm shakin' in my boots) It's simply based on who is going to keep pushing through even when they don't particularly want to-- because it's SCARY (or hard, or whatever).

But now I'm just rambling so let me get to the point of this post, which is my new theme for this year.

My new theme for this year is... "Oh, Yes I Can"

that's right.

I say it to myself every time I want to crawl under a rock or throw up from pushing myself beyond my comfort zones.

After all, I'm the one who put up those comfort zones in the first place so it stands to reason that I have the power to knock them down. So I think I will

because I know I can.

Oh yes,

I can.

Letting the love in...

2011-02-01T08:55:00.000-08:00

(this is an old picture. note my dark hair. and now the broken fragments of this fabulous mug
that I LOVED reside in a landfill somewhere far away. sadness)

Once upon a time when I lived in Idaho during the bitter, bitter winter months--my roommates and I would drink peppermint herbal tea by the gallon (remember those GINORMOUS insulated mugs from Maverick?) and we loved it. It was the perfect ritual to warm our bones and unwind after a long day of study (ha, did I say study...).

I was reminded of this favorite ritual of days gone by when I visited one of my favorite sites, Best Life by Design: HeatherMadder.com, this morning and watched THIS MESSAGE.

Something came alive in me when I read Heather's words, "Because if you are not going to allow the things in your life that you love who else will?"

"HELLO..." I said to myself,

then made a cup of peppermint tea.

Fabulous.

p.s. you need to watch THIS MESSAGE from Heather too. So good.

I almost threw him into the chokey...

2011-01-28T10:50:00.000-08:00

This is me.

Only it's not really me. It's really Rhea Pearlman from "Matilda", my all time favorite movie btw.

I only say it's me because this is how I look during sleeping hours now.

It all started when my husband bought a new space heater for our bedroom (we sleep in an icebox) that shines like the sun at noon day. Rick says it's a, "soft glow" but I think he's a little bit crazy and the "soft glow" was keeping me up every night, making me a lot a bit crazy. It was bad people, really bad, and on the verge of threatening our domestic bliss.

Until...

I remembered that one of my children had gifted me a shnazzy dollar store sleeping mask last year for Christmas (mine is embroidered with closed eyes), and now all is well and blissfully blissful once again.

p.s. our Matilda DVD broke some time ago, making me very sad. But I ordered a new one on Amazon (only 6 bucks) and it should be coming today. JOY.

Am I a nerd for liking that movie so much? Or do you love it too?

Come on, the Trunchbull is GENIUS.

Pondering...

2011-01-27T08:58:00.000-08:00

While studying the scriptures this morning my heart was stirred up by Nephi's words when he said:

15And upon these I write the things of my soul, and many of the scriptures which are engraven upon the plates of brass. For my soul delighteth in the scriptures, and my heart pondereth them, and writeth them for the learning and the profit of my children.

16Behold, my soul delighteth in the things of the Lord; and my heart pondereth continually upon the things which I have seen and heard.

As I read these words I thought about how just as Nephi had plates upon which he recorded the history of his people and plates upon which he recorded the things of his soul I too want to do that. I have always wanted to do that because my soul does delight in the things of the Lord and my heart does ponder upon them continually, but I also want to take the time to record the things of my "people" trying to live the blissful life here in Smalltown, USA.

So what I'm getting at is that I'm going to set a goal to record the things of my soul over on my other blog, "Words for This Day" and record the history, or comings and goings, of my peeps here. I don't know if it's a good idea but I'm gonna try it just the same because this is my journey and I'm allowed to try new things when I feel so inclined. Even if they end in failure. And that's pretty cool if you ask me. Well, even if you don't ask me I still think it's cool.

And if you ask me, or don't ask me as the case may be, I'm gonna tell you that if you want a really good read today, if you want your soul to do jumping jacks of joy inside your chest, you must turn to 2 Nephi chapter 4. And if you don't want to read the whole thing at least read verses 16-35 and count how many "amens" and "hallelujahs" you feel cause to utter. Fab-u-lous.

And if you don't have a Book of Mormon at your disposal, you can read it by clicking HERE.

Do it, you know you want to. It's nondenominational--good for everyone-- counsel and it's fab to the u to the lous. For real.

Lets fly...

2011-01-24T10:39:00.000-08:00

(remember my poster? Well I'm showing it to you again today to say, "See that bird in the upper left corner? That's me, breaking free from my cage.")

While folding socks this morning I watched a show about the leper colonies in India and was very moved by it.

Aside from the obvious point that I need to do more to help out in this big old wide world I also gained tidbits of knowledge to help in my own growth and development. I jotted a few things down that jumped out at me and I'll share them with you now (btw, I've been trying to take notes while watching TV (of the uplifting variety) and I highly recommend it).

Hopefully these will make sense because I'm going to share them just as they appear in my notebook.

...life is a series of choices that lead us to who we are.

...these can alter the very concept of who I am.

...they had no faith in themselves.

...they were stuck in their colonies, wasting their true potential.

I want to talk about this last one for a minute. Have we not all placed ourselves in one colony or another of our own creation? I know I have created my own "leper colony" of sorts where I hide myself away from reaching my full potential. My colony consists of those self defeating words such as, "I can't" or "I'll never". To leave my colony is to be exposed and vulnerable. To leave means that I have to be willing to fail as well as succeed (and sometimes the thought of succeeding can be just as scary).

I know I can stay in my colony forever, begging and borrowing life's accomplishments and joys from the works of others or I can stand up, leave, and create the life that I really want to experience and in turn be able to share those experiences with those around me.

A few more notes to share were these:

...they gained the dignity of earning their own living.

...the dignity is more important than the money.

I so badly want to gain the dignity that comes from going out and earning those life gifts that have been so generously bestowed upon me by a loving creator. And I dare say that I want it badly enough to really do something about it TODAY. That's right.

So if you happen to come across a trail of bandages littering the pathway of life, you'll know it's just me, freed from my colony and walking toward wholeness.

Want to come?

My piece of the sky...

2011-01-18T10:45:00.000-08:00

“There is a time in every man’s education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide; that he must take himself for better, for worse, as his portion; that though the wide universe is full of good, no kernel of nourishing corn can come to him but through his toil bestowed on that plot of ground which is given to him to till.”

~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Did I say I was addicted to Emerson? Well the other day the above paragraph knocked me right in the gut (in a good way). “envy is ignorance…imitation is suicide” can I get some “Amens” and “Hallelujahs” for that one?

Now I’d like to say that I never envy or try to imitate, but let’s get real… we all do it to one extent or another from time to time. Of course we do. We are living in a society that is set up for such behavior, and it is for certain the quickest way to inner suicide—the death of our peace, tranquility and BLISSFUL LIFE. I'm going to work very hard not to waste my time comparing myself to others because I was not put on this earth to be anyone else. I was put here to BE ME. That’s it. Just me.

“…The eye was placed where one ray should fall, that it might testify of that particular ray.”

~Emerson

I don’t want to have my gaze so fixed upon others that I miss the one ray that I was placed here to see—that particular ray that is my life’s errand to experience and to testify about.

Wish me luck.

Wanna come to my yard sale?

2011-01-14T07:04:00.000-08:00

I blame it on the fact that I took children's literature in high school instead the good old regular literature class. It's the only explanation for why I missed out on the likes of Emerson and Thoreau. Of course I've heard of Emerson and Thoreau (who hasn't) but I missed out on reading their works (other than a few tidbits here and there) until just recently when I helped Marlee with a homework assignment and exclaimed, "Egad, what have I been missing?!" And now I'm pretty much addicted to them both, along with others like them (Marlee just asked me last night, "What, are you addicted to those guys now?" To which I replied, "Addicted? Puh, no." but I think I am)

So anyway...
Yesterday I was reading (in Marlee's textbook no less) an excerpt from one of Anne Morrow Lindbergh's writings (she's in the same chapter with my two new favorite guys) where she said:

"Today more of us in America than anywhere else in the world have the luxury of choice between simplicity and complication of life. And for the most part, we, who could choose simplicity, choose complication."

And that's when I started singing "Amens" and "hallelujahs" because I for one am tired of complicating my life by chasing after those things that have no true value. Tired up to my breaking point I tell you. T-I-R-E-D.

Then, as if to further confirm Lindbergh's words, I saw a show yesterday about that little trailer house pictured above. The man who lives there decided to see how little one could live on and still be happy. I began to lament about how badly I desire to forsake all of the things of the world and live in a tiny house with few possessions when I heard a voice say, "You don't have to live in a tiny house to live more simply. You can start right now."

And now my house is full of heavy duty industrial sized black trash bags filled to the brim because I am going through each item I own and asking, "Does this simplify or complicate my life?" And wouldn't you know it...
Most of it is just crap. Pointless, life sucking garbage that's gotta go.
Buh-bye.

Good tidings of great joy...

2011-01-06T10:53:00.000-08:00

(You know I can't do a post without a picture so here we are on the Tower of Terror ride. It kind of represents the "Nor height, nor depth..." part listed below. I really, really hate heights. Have I ever told you that?)

Yesterday was a day filled with fasting, praying, searching, pondering, learning, growing... in other words it was a very good day.

I am grateful for a Father in Heaven who allows us to stumble, knowing that it is during these times of "uncertainty" and "trial" (though I hesitate to call it a trial because of the blessings that have come from it) that the greatest wisdom and understanding can be gained.

Some of my favorite scriptures from yesterday are found in Romans:

And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.
~8:28

If God be for us, who can be against us?
~8:31

He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things?
~8:32

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?
Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us.
For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come,
Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
~8:35, 37-39

Yep, yesterday was a great day all right and good news, tomorrow will be too because God lives and no power, nor things present, nor things to come will ever change that. And if God is for me who can be against me? Seriously, who?

Maybe...

2011-01-04T09:14:00.000-08:00

My family REALLY wants me to start blogging again. I like my family. I like to make my family happy. But do I still like blogging? Hmmm...

Once upon a time (in the fall of 2006 to be exact) I moved to a strange land. Okay so it's not that strange and not really much of a land, more of a town really, and a small town at that. I guess that was the problem. It was too small for my big city self. Not that I'm any kind of high roller with big city swag mind you, it's just that I tend to be a little more on the shy side (Marlee doesn't believe that I'm shy because I always had boyfriends and kissed "every boy in the world" according to her. I didn't really). Because of my shy ways I liked blending in, even disappearing into the sea of people that is the Valley of the Sun.

This move forced me to step out of my comfort zone. I had to be more outgoing and involved or DIE. Really. Because all joys of hobbies past were dead and gone (no good thrift stores, yard sales etc.) and my life threatened to snuff out right along with them if I didn't find new joys.

And thus this blog was born. It was a great place for me to speak my mind so I wouldn't lose my mind. But now my mind is more stable. My mind, and heart, have found a place here in this small place and I'm happy and busy and rarely find myself on the computer anymore. And now to make matters worse (for blogging that is) I just found out this morning that I am indeed going to be busier than ever for the next few weeks at least. Yikes.

But my family REALLY wants me to blog. And I REALLY like my family. So let's just say...

I'll try.

Hmm, I wonder...

2010-11-23T10:14:00.000-08:00

I had that dream last night. You know the one. The teeth fallin' right out of your head dream. I hate that dream. And I must admit that it has left me feeling completely out of sorts today. Not out of sorts because I'm afraid of loosing my teeth (they seem pretty secure) but out of sorts because as most of us know the teeth falling out dream is a symbol of ones life being out of whack and man do I feel out of whack right now (a fact that I didn't admit to myself until this dream made it painfully clear).

I was reading on a dream analyzing site that when we have a dream such as this we should write down all of the events--such as setting, people, feelings--of the dream which will give us a better idea of what the dream is trying to tell us.

So here goes. I invite you to read the details of my teeth falling out dream as I remember it...

The setting of my dream took place at the home of some new friends we had made (these were not any of our true life friends, in appearance anyway but maybe symbolically they were--who knows) it was some kind of festive occasion but there was a general feeling of awkwardness in being there. Something was strange about the friendship but I don't remember or can't pinpoint what it was exactly. I remember their house was dark (dark furniture and carpet) without a lot of natural light, which only added to that feeling of awkward uneasiness.

I walked out into the back yard, bright with sunshine, to a picnic type setting. People were gathered there and children were playing, but I felt a little shy and unsure as I walked down into the yard to go stand beside my husband.

It was when I opened my mouth to speak to him that it happened. With the most gentle push of my tongue my teeth began to fall out. I felt them fill my mouth and I spit them into my hands. It was terrifying as the perfectly polished, brilliantly white strong teeth filled my hands to capacity.

I felt the fear in my eyes as I looked to Rick for help. I needed him to get me to the dentist quickly so my teeth could be saved and I expressed that I had felt that something was wrong with me for a long time. I had suspected that I had been very sick but had ignored it and now it had grown serious. I needed medical attention right away.

I walked into the house-- gingerly trying to balance the unmanageably large pile of teeth (still perfect and white) in my hands--and told my kids that we had an emergency and needed to hurry and leave. Hesitant to quit what they were doing, my kids continued to visit and play. As I began to plead with them again about the state of emergency we were in I lost hold of my pile of teeth and they scattered all over the floor, getting lost among the toys and clutter.

I crouched down and while frantically trying to retrieve them, I cried. I cried because I was falling apart, I had no control and it didn't seem to matter to anyone else but me. Of course upon seeing this, my kids rushed to my aid helping me find each tooth--but still feeling an overwhelming sense of urgency to get help-- I told myself to wake up and escape from this awful nightmare immediately, which I did.

So there you have it. My horrible dream. Feel free to analyze away (if you read the whole thing--wow that's a long post). And maybe, just maybe, I'll tell you what I think it means later.

Do you ever write down and or analyze your dreams?

Still swimming...

2010-11-16T07:56:00.000-08:00

"The same God that placed that star in a precise orbit millennia before it appeared over Bethlehem in celebration of the birth of the Babe has given at least equal attention to placement of each of us in precise human orbits so that we may, if we will, illuminate the landscape of our individual lives, so that our light may not only lead others but warm them as well."
~Neal A. Maxwell

Last week was a time to vacation, this week a time to reflect. If I could bring just a portion of the light and warmth that my Savior blesses me with each and every day to others my joy would be full. It is the greatest desire of my heart, one that--because of my human frailties-- too often gets neglected, but one that I will never stop striving to accomplish.

Wish me luck... (please)

Truth be told, you're pretty awesome...

2010-11-05T08:34:00.000-07:00

I found an old blog post of mine, written in March of 2008 and thought, "Hey this kind of sums up what I was talking with my sister about last night." So even though I was getting ready to write an entirely different post, I think I'll share this instead.

In the old post I was talking about how I had just returned from a writer's conference. I mentioned a few things I had learned, but the following is what I want to share with you today...

"...Another principle we discussed is how truth is full of light, peace and joy. Truth does not leave us feeling sad, empty or depressed. For every lie there is an opposite truth. So if Satan tells me the lies that I'm not good enough, that I can't do it, that I'm not of worth. There is an opposite truth that I am amazing, capable and of infinite worth. The lies fill me with darkness, the truth with light. It's a simple concept, but it holds such power. Satan never wants us to realize just how glorious we are. He wants to keep us trapped in his lies, but if we'll seek the spirit of truth we'll know that we are worth so much more than we ever imagined."

The lies fill us with darkness, the truth with light. It's so simple, so powerful and so TRUE. Truth does not leave us feeling sad, empty or depressed about ourselves. Truth empowers us to change. Day by day, little by little we keep fighting a good fight and we become who we want to be if we allow truth to penetrate our hearts then plug our ears and say, "La, la, la I'm not listening." to the lies that seek to oppress and destroy us.

Also found in an old blog post was this questioned that had been presented to me by the spirit during a difficult time in my life...

"How long are you going to let the father of lies deceive you? How long are you going to allow him to tell you that you are less than you are? Walk with boldness. You are a daughter of God, and as a daughter of God, you can do anything."

WOW.
So say it with me won't you...
"La, la, la I'm not listening"
and lets get out there and do some good because as daughters (and sons) of God we CAN do anything.

Might as well try...

2010-10-26T11:25:00.000-07:00

About a week ago I saw a sweet elderly woman taking a walk out in nature. It impressed me. Especially because she hobbled up the path in a painfully slow shuffle. Again, very impressive. But I wondered if we have to resign to walking in a painfully slow shuffle as we age. Can there be anything done to prevent this? I guess only time will tell. But just in case something can be done. Just in case I can work to save the strength of my body now while I've still got a little, I'm pushing myself to work out again (yeah, I know I told you that yesterday). I'm fighting while the fighting's good. Yes I am.

Funny thing is, in my attempt to save myself from walking in a painfully slow shuffle--today, day two of my great workout comeback, I'M WALKING IN A VERY PAINFULLY SLOW SHUFFLE.

Oh well, at least it's temporary.

Here's to health and vitality.

Man I'm gonna be mad if this doesn't work.

Here I go again...

2010-10-25T11:01:00.000-07:00

This is the third time I have used this picture on my blog. The first time was for a "Self Portrait Tuesday or SPT (remember when I used to do those) where I talked about sending "good mail" to friends. The second was a "Writer's Workshop" where I talked about being my own "vault friend" and sending letters to myself. And today I post it to talk about my desire to work out again.

You see when my sister saw this picture the second time I posted it she said, "Oh my gosh that P90x is really working for you." To which I replied, "Actually I only did P90x for like a week and a half so I didn't get much out of it."

She said, "I thought that picture on your blog with the letters was from doing P90x."

I said, "No that picture is from a long time ago. Didn't you notice my dark hair?"

And then we both wondered as to why I look like I've been working out in this picture. Until I remembered, oh yeah. I look like I've been working out in this picture because I HAD BEEN WORKING OUT duh. This was taken when I was working to become fabulous by forty. Remember those days? Ah, good times. At that time I was doing workout tapes called "The Firm" can we all just pause for a moment and say "Ouch". Those tapes kick butt (literally).

As a matter of fact they just kicked my butt again this morning and now my legs feel like jello and I want to throw up. Nice. But I'm going to keep it up by golly. Because although I don't mind getting old, I do mind getting old and broken down. There's still far too much to do in this big ol' world. I've got to fight for this body o' mine. Fight I tell you. And it is a fight because working out pretty much stinks.

That Jackie lady trainer person on TV (do you know the one) says that we can tell our minds that working out is pleasurable, but I guess I must be weak minded because my mind says, "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE MAKING ME DO THIS!!! THIS STINKS!!! I HATE YOU!!!"

So if you have any tricks for making working out seem pleasurable do tell because I need all the help I can get.

...but keep it G rated.
This is a family blog. :}

A few (too many) words about me...

2010-10-20T20:45:00.000-07:00

WRITER'S WORKSHOP PROMPT:
About me. Do you have an about me page? Because people want to know. Write a page that describes who you are and what you’re about or spruce up your current about me page!

I don't currently have an about me page because I haven't ever really wanted one. I guess I figure this whole blog is a big ol' all about me extravaganza so who needs more. Who? I ask you. Now if the answer is you. If you indeed want to read more pointless facts about me then I will be happy to grace you with a re-posting of my 100 things about me, written in 2008.

Some of the facts have changed like my roots don't need to be done right now and I've already tried the brunette thing and am over it and instead of working with the young women at church I now work with the Relief Society (or various degrees of slightly older women) and yeah, you know, stuff like that.

And now for your skimming pleasure, I give you 100 things about me...

1. I am an Arizona native
2. My ancestors were among the first settlers of Mesa and other Az cities.
3. I am the third of seven children
4. I was a “surprise” (I say accident but my mom doesn’t like that)
5. My older sister and I are only a year apart.
6. I was born with dark hair. Then it changed to blond. Now it’s back to dark, but I make it blond.
7. I desperately need my roots done.
8. I’m considering going dark brown and being done with the whole root business.
9. I won student body vice president in 6th grade because I gave a killer speech, even though I was normally very shy and quiet (see #s 98 and 99 for explanation). I quickly discovered that politics was not for me (meetings and work—yuck!)
10. In eighth grade I discovered that I was good at long distance running, but turned down a chance to run with the varsity team my freshman year (extra training and hard work—yuck!)
11. I regret that I never strove for greatness.
12. I would love to start running again and train for a half marathon.
13. We never moved while I was growing up. I lived in the same house from age 1 to 20 (except for some time away at college and a summer apartment with friends).
14. I drove a VW Karmann Ghia in high school and college.
15. I was a daddy’s girl and could talk to him for hours on end.
16. I have had the privilege of speaking with my deceased relatives.
17. I’m not a medium or psychic, I believe anyone can talk to the deceased.
18. I met my husband at Mesa Community College in Spanish class.
19. I don’t speak Spanish.
20. My parents sent me away to Rick’s college to meet a good man (in hopes of steering me away from my high school boyfriend).
21. I had already met a good man (Rick, my now hubby) at home, so while I was away I wouldn’t date the same guy more than twice and I didn’t kiss anyone.
22. The first time I kissed Rick it was electric and we made out (kissing only) for over three hours. Crazy.
23. During a bout of insanity I returned for a second semester at Ricks College.
24. I went home for Thanksgiving and got engaged.
25. Three months later I was married.
26. I was the recipient of a miracle that I would love to talk about but can’t.
27. I have an absolute testimony of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
28. I have always dreamed of being a mother.
29. I had my first baby 13 months after I got married.
30. I have been pregnant 8 times, which would have resulted in 9 babies.
31. I’ve had two miscarriages.
32. I am the mother of 6 (two boys, four girls)
33. I’ve always loved baby boys (I always made my dolls be boys)
34. I wanted to be the mother of 9 boys.
35. I love being the mother of girls.
36. Little boys still melt my heart.
37. I have been blessed with a great deal of patience and rarely get my feathers ruffled. Except for….
38. When I’m involved in a project or want something changed or moved—I want it RIGHT NOW! And can’t wait for help.
39. I’ve moved heavy furniture and the piano by myself many times and have broken the leg off of a dining room table and dinged many a finish because I was too impatient to wait for help.
40. I am a S.H.E. (sidetracked home executive)
41. I lack time management skills. Therefore….
42. I am almost always running late.
43. I like driving with my kids.
44. I hate driving on high, winding roads or bridges.
45. My or my children’s lives will have to be at stake before I will drive the Salt River Canyon again.
46. I am a member of the American Night Writers Association.
47. I love to write.
48. I have written a novel, but am stuck in revisions (I’m in a funk)
49. Writing poetry is my favorite especially children’s books written in verse.
50. I enjoy writing talks.
51. I showed up late the night Rick proposed because I was engrossed in helping my sister write an essay for school (at least he knew what he was getting).
52. I love Sunday afternoon naps.
53. I’ve been taking Synthroid every morning for about 12 years for hypothyroidism, but….
54. I have been blessed with incredible health and am rarely sick.
55. I am a night owl, but….
56. I hate sleeping in, so….
57. I don’t get enough sleep.
58. Waking up at the crack of dawn for yard sales is one of my favorite things to do.
59. I love to treasure hunt in thrift stores too.
60. I love taking old, ugly things and making them pretty and useful.
61. I love to decorate, but…
62. I have been uninspired in the decorating of my new home.
63. I desperately miss my yard sale and thrift store hunting trips.
64. I miss the city but…
65. I am starting to feel much better about my new life.
66. I enjoy working with the Young Women at church. They keep me young.
67. I want to eat better and exercise so I can keep feeling young.
68. I love healthy food that tastes like the goodness of the earth, but…
69. I love junk food too and it’s easier.
70. I love how I feel when I get regular exercise, but…
71. I hate to exercise regularly.
72. I like exercising with friends, but…
73. I like sitting around and eating with friends more.
74. I have imaginary friends a.k.a. other bloggers, strangers that I read about regularly.
75. I think it would be fun to meet my imaginary friends someday.
76. I am terrible about calling friends but once I do…
77. I can talk on the phone for hours.
78. I love my laptop and call it my precious (like Gollum and the Ring).
79. I love many kinds of music. From spiritual, classical, big band, and Josh Groban types… to rock, pop, alternative, and almost anything 80s, but I’m not too fond of Country. Although…
80. I like watching country music videos because I think cowboys are hot. But…
81. I wouldn’t want Rick to be a cowboy because….
82. I love how much Rick and I have in common including our taste in music (except for Josh Groban, Rick hates him) besides…
83. Rick’s broad shoulders, bald head and goatee remind me of a biker dude and…
84. I think biker dudes are hot. Although….
85. I’m most attracted to Rick when I’m sitting next to him in church while he is dressed in his crisp white shirt and tie.
86. My heart leaps to know that I am married to a man who loves the Lord as much as I do.
87. I love bald heads especially my hubby’s. If his hair could be restored tomorrow I’d beg him not to do it.
88. I love snuggling up and watching TV with Rick especially the food network’s Diners, Drive-ins and Dives—yummy!
89. I love going out to eat.
90. I pretty much love any kind of food.
91. I don’t like sugary candy but I love chocolate and….
92. I can’t say no to a pastry, but….
93. I like salty, savory more than sweet.
94. I am a good cook but I don’t enjoy it.
95. I am the queen of throwing a meal together without prior thought or preparation.
96. I love shoes, but not those that require socks. I hate socks.
97. I love being with my kids and enjoy summer break more than the school year.
98. I can be shy one on one but…
99. I don’t mind speaking to large groups.
100. I am generally an optimistic girl who loves God, family, and country. I am grateful for my gifts, talents, and blessings as well as my tests and trials for they have all, the good and the bad, brought me greater understanding and love for my Heavenly Father and Savior Jesus Christ. I love to testify of them. Of their goodness and glory, their merciful love and their wonderful plan of happiness. They live and because I know this—my life is bliss.

If you read through all of that you deserve a prize.
Sadly, I don't have a prize for you, but you sure do deserve one. Yes you do.

A mantle of happiness...

2010-10-12T22:29:00.000-07:00

I would tell you how disappointed I am in this picture of my mantle--1) because I had to take it with my phone, 2) because the lighting is so bad and 3) because the ginormous pipe shooting up through the middle of it is simply not pleasing to the eye--I would tell you all of this and more if this post was meant to be about my mantle...
...but it's not.

This post is about a super awesome friend who read my blog this morning and upon reading that I needed pumpkins for my mantle SHOWED UP AT MY DOOR WITH AN ARMFUL OF THEM IN TOW. For me. And then proceeded to allow me to talk her ear off about the fate of my world as I know it. Not the world in general. Just my world.

In short, she made my day. So now when I feel like I should do something for someone else, but doubt myself and ask, "Hmm, I don't know, should I really do this?" I will answer myself a big old YES! Because I learned that the fate of the world (as I or others may know it) just doesn't seem to matter as much when you have plump happy pumpkins on your mantle.

Especially when they're grown and hand delivered by a thoughtful friend.

Have I ever told you how much I hate titles...

2010-10-10T22:05:00.000-07:00

This picture could mean only one of two things...

A) I'm going through a mid-life crisis

or

B) I went to an 80's birthday party this weekend

Hmm...

which one do you suppose it is?

P.S. my mantle is crying for some pumpkins. Crying for them. Hope this week will slow down enough
for me to get to the store, or the pumpkin patch or whatever. I need pumpkins people.

Peace, be still...

2010-10-04T12:15:00.000-07:00

Patience is...clearly not fatalistic, shoulder-shrugging resignation. It is the acceptance of a divine rhythm to life; it is obedience prolonged. Patience stoutly resists pulling up the daisies to see how the roots are doing. ~ Neal A. Maxwell

I'm needing to be patient right now. I am not wanting to be patient right now. But even in all of this I know that no matter what feelings get stirred up in my heart and mind concerning the things that I have no control over, if I am humble, there is a source for peace. There is always a source for peace if we are willing to accept it.

The Savior Jesus Christ is that source. This is an absolute truth. And I can tell you that today the confusion, impatience and concern that I have been feeling have been washed away because today I sought peace, patience and understanding (several times mind you) and that is what I have received.

And as I was scrubbing out my sink (because one answer I received was to continue to serve and honor my home. Which is quite a lovely thought in and of its self, don't ya think. Serve and honor... and here I thought I was only doing drudge work all of these years) I was overcome by the Spirit and I marveled at what it really means to be a child of the living God.

I am a child of God, sent here by Him, and I can find comfort in His perfect plan for me.
And today I will run through the daisies that He has so generously blessed me with and leave the structure of the roots to Him.

After all, He's a far better gardener than I could ever hope to be.

At least I'm trying...

2010-09-28T09:01:00.000-07:00

I've been quite the grown-up lately, keeping on top of things and being neat and tidy. I know, you're impressed. right?

Anyway this past weekend got away from me and so did yesterday for that matter. Hey life gets busy sometimes. And to make matters worse, the holidays are in the air. Holidays make creative (somewhat flighty) people drift off into a la-la magical land of, "I wonder what I can make today or Ooo, lets decorate and forget all else" state of being. Very anti-grownup I'm afraid.

Because of this I decided today was a day to resort back to "timer cleaning" (you know when I set the timer for 5-15 minutes per room (whichever I feel I can commit to) and clean my little heart out).

Problem is when you're a person who needs a timer for cleaning...

You never know where you put the dang thing the last time you used it.

it's sad really.

Hmm...

I wonder what I can make today?

So happy...

2010-09-24T09:26:00.000-07:00

Some time ago, I picked up these paintings at a yard sale for a dollar. Yes yard sales pretty much rule the world. Of course the frames were in all of their seventies glory when I bought them, but nothing a little paint couldn't fix.

At first I painted them with more of an antique type paint finish and I have to say it didn't do it for me. Every time I'd walk past them I'd think, "Nop, that's not doing it for me. They need to be white."

So yesterday I finally pulled them off the wall and slapped some white paint on them, which lead to me taking care of some other neglected yard sale finds.
So happy.

My sis-in-law and I were talking the other day and she asked, "if you could think back to a time when you were the happiest. When would that be?" (or something like that). And besides the obvious--marriage, kids--I wasn't quite sure.

But yesterday I was reminded that I'm the happiest...

...when there's a project on my mind and paint on my hands.

Now that's bliss baby. Solid Bliss.

So good to know...

2010-09-22T11:30:00.000-07:00

Writer's Workshop Prompt:
10 Reasons why you love your job.

Only I'm changing the prompt a little (well, kind of a lot) because I'm rebellious like that.
And my slightly (well, kind of a lot) tweaked prompt shall be:

My one job.

A strange thing happens when one becomes a small town person, and now I find myself saying things like, "Aww man, I don't want to drive into town today." Into town? Really? Who am I? But this is my reality people. I own it. Because it's true.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I didn't have to make round trips "into town" and back 20 times a day (slight exaggeration), but I do, across horrid, bumpy dirt roads no less (feel sorry for me yet?).

So sometimes, after picking up one kid and waiting for another to finish music lessons or the like, I hang out "in town" instead of driving back and forth. This process often irritates me because I always have SO MUCH TO DO at home.

But on Monday I was given a gift. While hanging out "in town" watching my kids play at the park a sweet gift flooded my mind and my heart as I heard the Spirit whisper, "This is your one job. The most important job you will ever do."

It wasn't a warning voice as in, "This is your one job so you better not mess it up." But a sweet reminder, a special feeling of permission given to me by a loving Father in Heaven that it was okay for me to put all other things aside because this, my one job, was what mattered the very most.

Now, because of this precious gift, when I am with my kids I am really-- WITH MY KIDS. The need for multitasking is gone. Because after all...

I only have one job.

Woo-hoo...

2010-09-20T12:01:00.000-07:00

I told you I was setting some goals. And I meant it. So this morning I whipped me-self up a little goal calendar (for one particular goal. I'll make others for other goals) because I'm a visual person and things such as this make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

As you can see I didn't spend any amount of time creating or perfecting my calendar because I have much to do these days. You know. With my new goals and all. I just slapped it together and added words of things that-- by working on and accomplishing this particular goal-- I'll be able to better enjoy in my life.

Hooray for goals. Hooray for progression (it's my favorite thing about being alive you know. Progression. So Fabulous.)
and Hooray for happy little doodled calendars that bring me joy.

The bus stop of loveliness...

2010-09-17T11:45:00.000-07:00

Today, whilst at the bus stop with Mr. Waylon, I was gifted a bag of rolls, home baked by my lovely neighbor. "I got to baking this morning..." She said. "And these are for you."

"Lucky me." I squealed. And I meant it too. I was hungry at the bus stop. And bread is my favorite food group.

Along with feeding my hungry belly, this act of kindness also confirmed to me what I had been feeling all day, which is this...

I need to make time to do the things I love each and every day. That's right I said each and every.

If I want more creative time then I need to "pencil in" more creative time.

If I want to get back to playing the piano... pencil it in lady. Pencil. it. in.

In other words I'm setting some goals for myself. That's right...goals. I'm taking charge of my time, prioritizing, and living each day to the fullest.

And someday. Yes, someday. I'm going to be able to gift others with bags of homemade goodness, of one form or another, to brighten their days too.

Yes I am.

Breaks over...

2010-09-16T13:30:00.000-07:00

(Norman's mom)

Once upon a time...mostly back while my oldest three were little... I oozed creativity. Creativity was my life's breath. I wrote, painted, decorated, reupholstered furniture, sewed, made crafts, sold crafts and created precious family heirlooms for my kiddos (to name a few).

Fast forward to now...

The other night my younger three pulled my canvas "monster" book (that I never finished sewing together) out of a memory box and squealed with delight (okay so they didn't squeal but they were very excited to look at it, pass it around and touch every page) "What is this?" They asked. Had I really never shown it to them? "It's a story I wrote when Landon was little." I told them. "Wow!" They exclaimed. "Did you paint these pictures yourself."

"Yes. It's a story about a little monster named Norman who is afraid of children." I explained. "Would you like to hear it?" We sat down and read the story of Norman (incidentally, when Monsters Inc came out my kids were quite convinced that they had stolen my idea. cute) and afterward I thought...What the heck am I doing with my life? Why have I abandoned creativity? Why?

And now I CRAVE creativity. Yes, I needs me some creative time RIGHT NOW.

Anyone want a canvas book? I'll make you one. And maybe I'll even sew it up for you too.
Maybe.

Sail away with me...

2010-09-14T12:35:00.000-07:00

(this table was my last lucky find, while still a resident of the Valley o' the sun)

Last night I had the strangest dream... I sailed away to China in a little rowboat to find ya... no I didn't really (those pesky 80's songs. They just pop up when you least expect it).

I actually dreamed that several of my blogging friends (and some that I just stalk) came to my house for a fun little blogging people's get together of sorts. It was a bit awkward if I'm speaking the truth because all of these women. that I admire. were in my house. My house. And one of my favorite designing bloggers was making a phone call IN MY ROOM. Most of you have met my room before (it looks a lot better these days. I'm slowly evolving) and it was in all of its disorganized glory in my dream. Thanks dream for making me feel like crumb after all I've done to try to change. Thanks a whole heck of a lot.

Anyway, then came the part when I was asked to show the blogging people persons some of the interesting things to do about town...-crickets chirping-... I had nothing. So my mind quickly transported us to the Valley of the Sun, my beloved (P.S. people from the Valley of the Sun never call it "the Valley" (except for the broadcasters on the evening news) I bring this up only because it bugged me in my dream that I was calling it that)

Safely in the warmth of my "Valley" home I turned to my guests and, with a happy gleam no less, announced that I would be taking one and all to my (brace yourselves) FAVORITE THRIFT STORE. Oooo. Rowdy. But when I googled it to find its location the address came up as being on the corner of Southern and Pecos (?) This hurt my head. Even away in dreamland IT HURT MY HEAD. "How can this be?" I questioned. "It simply doesn't compute." I groaned.
But the google map said it, right there-- Pecos and Southern--marked with a big, b0ld star. Well I knew good and well that Pecos and Southern are parallel running roads that DO NOT INTERSECT. so I caused myself to wake up. so I could prove to myself that I was right. And I was.

So what's the moral of this dream? Well I figure it can be one of three things...

1) I need to have a blogger people persons get together of sorts at my house.

Or

2) I'm being chastened for not knowing more about the rich abundance (?) of fun things to do in the town where I now reside

Or

3) I've been estranged from my "Valley" home and thrift stores for far too long and a trip is in immediate order. immediately.

Then again it could have been a dream no more profound than sailing away to China in a little row boat to find ya or some other such meaningless fiddle-faddle.

And yes I just said fiddle-faddle. And yes I kind of liked it.

This much I know...

2010-09-13T11:35:00.000-07:00

What a weekend we had. A weekend of bad news. First from my hubs and then from a friend. And though my mind reeled around, trying to think of possible solutions... What could I do? How could I help fix things?... I ultimately came back to the same conclusion that I always come to during times of trial, which is that I have very little control over what happens in my temporal life.

And that's when I remember and take great comfort in knowing that I do however have all control over what happens in my spiritual life. Nothing (aside from my own hardheartedness and stupidity) can stop me from growing spiritually and enjoying the presence of my Father in Heaven and Savior Jesus Christ in my life. Nothing.

So I spent a good part of the weekend trying to stay close to the Spirit (fasting, praying, attending the Lord's house). I allowed the Lord to manifest His power unto me and I found comfort, hope and joy in the knowledge that He lives, that His work will go forth and that He is always there for those who come unto Him.

What a comforting feeling indeed.

Be careful what you wish for...

2010-09-10T09:14:00.000-07:00

I'm in a hurry this morning. No time to blog. No time at all. But I want to blog because I told Mr. Blissful I would and also I wanted to tell you about my new glasses. So while I'm waiting for my eggs to cook (breakfast is the most important meal of the day. even if you're busy) I'll do just that.

Okay, first of all I lied. These are not my new glasses they are Paige's new glasses. I don't wear glasses, but I covet these.

When Paige put them on her cute face I said "Oh my gosh those are so flippin' cute. I want some." (or something to that affect). So Paige let me put them on my not quite as cute face and when we showed Mr. Blissful a wide grin spread across his saxy face and a gleam shone in his eye to boot (I think he was picturing me as a saxy secretary, that's what the look on his face would suggest, but I can't say for sure :} ).

Anyway "nerd" glasses (that's the modern lingo for them. you know the word on the street. yeah I'm up on these things) are the stuff right now did you know that(I did because I'm really cool and up on these things you know)? And I WANT SOME.

So I was fixin' to order me some fake ones when I remembered...
Hey I'm 41 years old. Chances are I just might need glasses FOR REAL.

Looks like an eye appointment is in order toot sweet. :)

Do I really have to come up with a title for this post? Blah, I hate titles...

2010-09-09T10:17:00.000-07:00

"You need to blog." Mr. Blissful encouraged last night.

"Nah, I don't feel like it." I answered.

"I'll watch TV while you write. Come on."

"Eh. don't think so."

"Isn't it Self-Portrait Tuesday or something like that."

"I don't do Self-Portrait Tuesday anymore. Besides it's Wednesday, the day I do Writer's Workshop."

"See. You need to do Writer's Workshop."

"I can't I'm too tired."

"Sure you can."

"Zzzzz..." with my daytime clothes still on no less. Told ya I was tired.

So I missed Writer's Workshop this week. I mean I guess I could still do it but eh, I don't feel like thinking that much right now.

So instead I will tell my friend Rachel that I like her idea of posting about the many adventures of Mr. Landon on his mission. And as soon as I get the writing bug again I will do just that.

I've thought about posting Mr. Landon's address so all y'all could write him happy little messages, but then I remembered that I have no idea who reads this here blog and I don't want anyone to write my baby nasty mean spirited messages. Not that I think anyone would really do that but you can't be too careful when you're talking about your baby. Am I right? And as Landon said himself of the people he meets, "They either bless us or curse us." So I know there are those out there who like to curse people if they happen to disagree with them and again, I don't want anyone to curse my baby through the mail.

So I thought, "How 'bout facebook?" I could post his address on facebook. But I'm friends with people on facebook that I haven't spoken to in over 20 years and I wouldn't want one of them to write to my baby and say, "Your mommy is a twit" (do you love the movie Matilda as much as I do?) So I guess facebook is out too.

And I can't post my email address for all y'all to email me for his address because my email address has my last name in it and I try to keep my last name from this here blog. So in short, I guess all y'all can't write my baby happy little messages. Dang it all.

But I will tell you that he is doing very well and having some miraculous, heart warming experiences. And even though I miss him SO MUCH, I wouldn't trade this time for anything. Having a missionary son is FABULOUS.
If I do say so myself.
And I do.

If I must, I must...

2010-09-07T09:54:00.001-07:00

On Sunday my dear Mr. Blissful looked me straight in the eye and said, "You need to start blogging again."

To which I replied, "Eh. My heart's just not in it right now."

But when Mr. Blissful talks, I listen (stop laughing Mr. Blissful. Okay so maybe I don't completely listen, but lets just say I try to be accommodating when I can :} ).

Anyway...

So I'm going to try to get back into blogging. For my dear Mr. Blissful. Because I kind of like him a little.

Today I blogged over at Words for this Day. My other blog. That I love. Because Mary at Blogrock made it so dang cute. Did I ever tell you that a little splash of red is my favorite color. Not full on all over red, but a little splash of red. Yes I love a little splash of red and that's what my other blog has. love.

But I never write over there even though I really want to write over there. So today I did, write over there I mean. And you can read it by clicking the cute button below (see the fabulous splash of red) if you feel so inclined to do so. Thank you much and have a fabulous day.

A morning serenade...

2010-09-03T08:25:00.000-07:00

I've been away from blogging for what feels like forever. I've missed it, but I've just been too busy to do anything about it.

Until...

This morning.

This morning I allowed myself a little downtime. It started with a need to hear Phantom of the Opera music. I love that music (I really need to buy the CD--and no I don't own an MP3 player because I've always had children at home who call, "Mom" every five seconds and one cannot be plugged into such a device and still hear themselves being beckoned every five seconds. So don't be making fun of me for it okay. alright.) so I clicked on some Youtube whilst making school lunches for the kiddos.

Someday I must do an entire post dedicated to the music of the Phantom. I love stories such as that and I love how brilliantly the music captures the emotion of the story. And furthermore I love talented people who bring such brilliance to life for my enjoyment. Thank you talented people. Thank you.

And speaking of great stories that evoke great emotion...
There has been great weeping, and wailing and nashing of teeth at the Blissful house over a certain book entitled "MOCKINGJAY" (I'm sure some of you have heard of it--the third in the Hunger Games series-- you know) Anyway I haven't read it by my dear daughters have and oh my... that's all I can say... oh my. Such drama. Such confusion. Such heartbreak and sorrow. Thank you talented writer person. Thank you (I mean that sincerely. I love books that can do that).

Anyway...
So I'm watching Phantom music this morning, which leads to watching Beyonce sing Phantom music, which leads to watching Beyonce and Josh Groban sing together, which leads to watching Josh Gorban and Celine sing together, which leads to watching Josh sing (because I had forgotten how much I love Josh) which leads to tears, of the crocodile variety, streaming down my face when I listen to Josh sing "To Where You Are" because it reminds me of my Dad.

Whew... you just gotta love music.

And again I say, Thank you talented people. Thank you.

Now I must go find my long lost Josh Groban CD (did I mention that I love him--and that I don't own an MP3 player) because downtime is over and I very much desire for him to serenade me while I work. Sing to me Josh. Sing. to. me.

Whew...

2010-08-25T23:05:00.000-07:00

WRITER'S WORKSHOP PROMPT:

Can it be saved? Think of something that is ruined when it’s totally wet. Write a scene (truth or fiction) that involves you and a soaked item.

"I'll be there in a minute." I'll admit it's a phrase I use far too often with my kids, but this time I had a good reason. I was already engaged in a conversation with Marlee and Jamie knew she shouldn't interrupt.

"Can you come now?" Jamie called a few minutes later. "We want to give you your birthday present."

"Almost." I told her. "I'm just finishing my talk with Marlee."

Then came Waylon's plea, "Mom hurry." His voice sounded faint and strained so I hurried upstairs, afraid that he might be trying to hold something heavy. But it was my heart that grew heavy as I rounded the corner to see my lumpy, little boy sized birthday present wrapped tightly inside of a DOUBLE LAYER OF PLASTIC TRASH BAGS.

"Waylon's not here. He went in the other room for something." Jamie slyly set up the surprise.

"Oh really?" I answered, trying to disguise the fear in my voice. Then with trembling hands I tore through the trash bags to reveal the thoughtful gift of a boy. My boy. My Waylon. He was soaked with sweat, but thankfully, THANKFULLY, not yet ruined.

Well that was interesting...

2010-08-13T08:33:00.000-07:00

(Please excuse the randomness of this picture)

I had a birthday shout hooray...

I am now officially over 40 but still fabulous I must say (I decided this is my year for not expecting warm fuzzies or validation from others, but giving it to myself) far more fabulous than last year, but only because I've learned some new, life changing things from my Savior this year and through Him we can all feel fabulous. It's true. Really. You should try it.

So I figure if I continue to learn and grow I'll remain fabulous (no plastic surgery required) throughout my 40's, 50's, 60's (well fabulous sixties doesn't have quite the same ring to it does it, so we'll say...um...super or spectacular or splendorific (you get the idea) sixties and seventies. We'll figure out the eighties and nineties later. There's time).

My birthday was a bit interesting this year to say the least. Lets recap shall we...

1) My husband was out of town :(

2) The restaurant I wanted to take the kids to (I decided if I couldn't be with my husband I'd make a fun night out with my kids, remember personal validation and warm fuzzies) was closed due to a gas leak :(

3) I accidentally told someone that I didn't like the gift they got for me (this is an awkward somewhat HILARIOUS but terrible story that I may or may not share... but most likely not) :}

4) Jamie and Waylon tried to surprise me by nearly giving me a dead child for my birthday (this story I will share but later) :o

but on the brighter side...

5) It was also the first day of school and I am now officially an empty nester during school hours mom. :)
and

6) My sister-in-law made me a really yummy cake (that I ate. In my bed. 'round midnight. Cuz my hubby was gone) :D

Fabulous.

You're all invited...

2010-08-06T10:30:00.000-07:00

I read C jane. See it says so on my sidebar and here's the newer version of her button on this post (you can click either and they'll get you there. gotta love them buttons). Anyway I read C jane and this morning I read her post about a gathering she went to. A "gathering of creative friends".
And...

1) I love this idea. A gathering of creative friends. How fun is that.
And...

2) Miss Marlee and I want to have our own gathering of creative friends because she and I both kinda live for creativity. Kinda.
But...

3) I know all y'all who read this will say, "but I'm not creative." And then I'll have to hurt you for saying that (not really, but you know...) because by divine nature we are all creators. Some of us just don't recognize that yet.

For example: Marlee's YW leader is known to say that she doesn't have any talents and yet-- AND YET--she makes the girls the most delicious home baked goods every week and she can garden like no body's business which, in case you didn't know, equals talent and creativity. Yes it does.
So...

4) Miss Marlee and I want to and will (someday) have a "gathering of creative friends" party so y'all just better start paying attention to those talents of yours right now cuz we're gonna invite you and you're gonna have to share and it's gonna pretty much be awesome.
Now...

If you're still feeling nervous about it I want to share with you my favorite quote from C jane's blog post this morning (it's not plagiarism if I recognize the author and put quotes around it--right?)

Anyway she said ( and I quote. See not plagiarism)

And of course there were plenty of confessions of depression, mania and self doubt as per usual in a gathering of "Creative Friends."

Miss Marlee and I read this and said, "Amen" and "Hallelujah" because ain't that the truth creative people everywhere (which is all of us remember) AIN'T THAT THE TRUTH.

It's only natural that the adversary, who knows good and well that "men are that they might have joy", would do everything in his power to keep us from doing that which brings the most joy-- creating.

So set your depression, mania, and self doubt aside (or bring it with you if you must) and get ready to party with us (someday) at our very own special "gathering of creative friends".

LOVE IT.

P.S. This post reminded me of a silly poem I wrote some time ago that goes a little something like this:

I am making a fear catch sack,
To carry my fear upon my back.
My fear tries to stop me, to make me hide,
But I won’t.
So if it wants to stay by my side,
It must climb into my sack,
And come along for the ride.

P.P.S. Visit C jane's post then visit the link to her friend's art page (found at the end of her post). I LOVE HIS ART SO MUCH that I pretty much want to marry it. It's got me fantasizing about being rich so I can buy all of it because I love it so much I REALLY, REALLY want to marry it (did I say that already).

And in case you don't go and follow the link over there I'll give it to you HERE because I love his art so much I... well you know, and I want you to love it with me.

The Hard Way Cafe (table for one please)...

2010-08-04T07:33:00.000-07:00

WRITER'S WORKSHOP PROMPT:
DESCRIBE THE FIRST DATE YOU WENT ON IN A BOY'S CAR

"You learned things the hard way." The random elderly library patron said to me as I played puppets with my kids one afternoon.

"And that's why you're such a good mom now because you know how important it is to watch over and guide your children." He seemed to peer into my soul as he spoke and though I didn't know him (was he a psychic... an angel?) I wanted to cry back, "Yes random elderly library patron, yes I did learn things the hard way and yes I would throw myself under a bus if needs be to protect my children from doing the same."

Fortunately for me I haven't needed to throw myself under a bus because I've been blessed with good, smart kids with a heck of a lot more common sense than their mom had at their age.

I bring this up because after reading my post about my motorcycle ride, a family member told me that because of my shenanigans growing up I was lucky that I didn't have daughters who did stuff like that. You know... Carma.

But the idea behind "Carma" is that it's one of those "what goes around comes around" kind of things and in general I'd have to say that I wasn't a bad kid (I used to listen to "Afterglow" (a group who sings church hymns) on my Walkman for heck sakes (and said things like "heck sakes" for heck sakes)) I didn't want to stir up trouble, walk on the wild side or stick it to the man (if you will) I was just a naïve kid who blindly walked through life letting whatever happened happen much of the time.

Which is why I got on the back of that motorcycle that night and why I can't remember my first date in a boy's car. Hmm... I think my first "official" date in a boy's car was with a super cute guy who was visiting from out of state, but I can't say for sure because boys were my folly. Yes they were.

A folly that my daughters have managed to avoid because unlike me (at their age) they have goals, they have direction, they have dreams and aspirations, and if me having to stumble down that "hard way" has helped get them to this point I'd gladly do it again.

After all, it's far less painful than being thrown under a bus.

Well... maybe.

P.S. I am no longer a naive gal and I know good and well that someday one of my children or even the whole lot of 'um could decide to go frolicking down that "hard way" for themselves. I get that. I do. But for now I'll continue--as the random elderly library patron observed--to look after, guide and love them the best I can.

Would you like some crackers with that cheese...

2010-08-02T08:42:00.000-07:00

Miss Marlee reads. Oh how she reads. She is a reader extraordinaire with a passion for (you guessed it) reading. Which is why she is my go-to gal when I get stuck while plotting my book. I yell, "Marlee, could you come here for a minute." And she graciously cozies up on my bed for a plotting pow-wow that often turns into an hour long (or so) brain storming extravaganza. It's fabulous.

Marlee laughs at me because I'm extremely picky about what makes the cut for my plot. But then I remind her that I'm going for the gold here (writing is my sport. Some train for marathons, some dream of scaling tall mountains, I want to "stick all of my landings" and write the best story ever) I tell her my story can't have any holes that make the reader say, "huh?" It can't have any "pretty bows" where everything gets wrapped up a little too conveniently, and most of all IT CAN'T HAVE CHEESE. No cheesy pleasey for me. "My story is lactose intolerant." I tell her. And she laughs at me. That is she did laugh at me

Until...

We went to a movie--Marlee, Paige and I. We went to a movie that we had long anticipated for what looked to be an intriguing story and a very HOT leading actor (and what mother doesn't like to encourage her teen girls to lust over hot male actors I ask you?) We went to this movie and we LAUGHED (it wasn't a comedy) we laughed and I turned to Marlee and said, "This movie is not lactose intolerant."

This movie had it all...
1) holes
2) pretty bows and
3) cheese. lots of cheese. Smothered, oozing and dripping in it.

It's only saving grace was the HOT lead actor.

But I don't regret seeing it because...

1) I had a fun night out with my girls (making fun of a movie is almost as entertaining as really enjoying it) and

2) Miss Marlee will never laugh at me during plot pow-wow again.

So that's why they were so mad (I get it now)...

2010-07-28T23:04:00.000-07:00

WRITER'S WORKSHOP PROMPT:
It happened on a motorcycle

Before the motorcycle there was a yacht. A beautiful yacht docked by Sea World in San Diego. A beautiful yacht that I was invited to vacation on because--before the motorcycle-- I was such a "nice, quiet, polite girl".

Before the motorcycle I went with my friends (who had invited me to stay on their yacht) to Disneyland. We had fun. We met boys. We invited the boys to meet us later at the yacht (my friends' parents were staying on a big ultra fancy yacht while we girls stayed on our own private little baby yacht) the boys agreed.

Before the motorcycle my friends and I sat on our own private little baby yacht and waited for the boys. Then they...um...he came. He as in the boy that I had met. He was the only one who showed up.

Before the motorcycle I walked with this boy up the dock and out to the parking lot.

And then... the motorcycle

I climbed onto the back of it and held on tight to this boy that I hardly knew (lets face it, I didn't know him at all) and sped off with this boy I didn't know at all into the dark night of a town I didn't know at all.

I was 15.

After the motorcycle I walked hand in hand with this boy back to the little baby yacht only to find THE FRIENDS' PARENTS WAITING THERE FOR ME (the friends told them I was in the bathroom. They were beginning to think I had a digestive disorder)!

After the motorcycle... yadda, yadda, disapproving unhappy yadda...

I never got invited to vacation on a yacht again.

And he's off...

2010-07-20T07:34:00.000-07:00

My boy was safely deposited at the MTC (missionary training center) last Wednesday. We enjoyed a wonderful family vacation together taking him up to Utah. A vacation that I will write about in segments as time permits (I seem to be very busy these days). But as my phone has been broken for over a week now (I dropped it and broke it in half) I thought I'd better give at least a quick report to tell y'all that the boy/man is on his way and doing fine (at least I assume he's doing fine. I can't rightly say that I know he's doing fine because he hasn't written to me yet. I know--right. The little stinker).

Yeah, I hear ya...

2010-07-08T14:51:00.000-07:00

WRITER'S WORKSHOP PROMPT:
I wish I would have…describe a time when you didn’t take action, but later wished you would have.
OR...
Describe a time when you realized that you needed to take action to save yourself from future regret.

"I don't care if I never have a book published." I told Rick not too long ago. "In fact I don't really care if I never finish revising my book or if I never write another one. I'm happy just writing my blog. It gives me my writing fix for the day and that's good enough for me." And I meant it too.

Until...

I didn't write on my blog for awhile and wouldn't you know it... MY CHARACTERS CAME OUT TO PLAY. They danced up and down my spine, tickled my nose and caused a whirlpool of excitement to churn around in my tummy. It seems they've missed me and after sufficient begging (seriously, they won't let me sleep) I agreed to come back to them.

What can I say, we're in love (my characters and I) and nothing can separate us (except for blogging, dirty dishes, laundry, children, reality TV, stopping to drive someone here there and everywhere, life... you know... whatever) we always find our way back to each other and oh, the reunion. There's really nothing better.

P.S. Later I'll tell you about another fun thing that happened to make me get back to writing.

P.P.S. I'm gonna have to figure out this whole blogging thing because it does give me my writing fix for the day and that's not good when you've got characters begging for attention. Hmm... what to do? What to do?

Maybe if he had called first...

2010-06-23T22:51:00.000-07:00

WRITER'S WORKSHOP PROMPT:
What summer means to your family

**********************************************

Summer for our family usually means visitors. Friends, family, fun. We love visitors.

Well... most of the time.

This summer visitor, found hanging out by our doorbell yesterday, wasn't exactly welcomed with opened arms. I'm afraid we quite rudely shrieked in horror when we walked out the door and found him (her (?)) there.

Guess we need to work on our hospitality skills.

And so it goes...

2010-06-21T11:01:00.000-07:00

It's been an eventful few weeks in the blissful house. I wish I could say that I've been away vacationing in the Caribbean or some other such news, but no such luck. Truth is, after watching my dear Mr. Blissful deteriorate right before my eyes this past month (he's been sooo sick, still is, and has lost close to 40 pounds in less than a month) we finally got a diagnosis of diabetes last Monday (I knew it. I told you I like to read medical books and he had all of the symptoms. Bummer).

The Doctor wanted to admit him into the hospital to get everything straitened out, but because we don't have insurance we're stuck trying to get him regulated the slow, slow, SLOW way and I hate watching him suffer. Those with diabetes know that when not properly regulated it can be a very MISERABLE experience. More miserable than those of us without it could ever fully comprehend.

Because I'm the star chef around these parts I've been doing a lot of studying this past week, trying to figure out how to feed my man (Paula Deen, the affair is over. It's splitsville for us now and forever. And this time I mean it). It's a lot to learn and we hope to meet with a dietitian after his lab work comes in and we know exactly what we're dealing with (the Dr suspects it's type 1. Bummer.)

Anyway it's been interesting. I've had to take on the role of the tough, take charge one and I dare say it's been good for me. But even so, I can't wait for my dearest love to be back to feeling like his normal healthy self again.

P.S. We went to the Valley this weekend and had to stop in for a bite at a fast food place. Because I'm the one who's been studying his diet, Rick kept asking me if he could order this, that or the other and when I'd say no the girl behind the counter looked at me like I was some kind of psycho controlling wife. Seriously funny.

Love her...

2010-06-11T13:03:00.000-07:00

I'm tired today. SERIOUSLY tired. I had a great chat with my sister last night. So great that it lasted til 2 am. Fabulous. That's not what did me in however. It was the stupid, STUPID movie I stayed up to watch after that. 4 am. That's what time I went to bed. Four in the stinkin' morning. Why?

So now I'm dying. To death. I figure I have a few choices to help with this problem.
1) Go take a nap (the obvious choice)

2) Crank some LOUD tunes while cleaning like a mad woman to get my blood pumping

Or

3) Sit on my tired buttum and attempt to write a blog post.

While trying to decide what to do I've been sitting on my buttum reading blog posts (go take a nap already you nerdball) and whilst sitting here on my buttum, Busy Bee Lauren challenged me to find my favorite old picture and post about it. So now I can't nap. Because it's a challenge. And I loves me a challenge. And I also love this old picture. It's one of my ALL TIME FAVORITES.

Ah, our Christmas card from 2003 (yes I sent this out to everyone). I don't think I need to tell the story behind this picture because it's Jamie. And all who know my Jamie say, "Oh, of course."

If you don't know my Jamie you can read a little about her HERE, HERE or HERE.

One of the subjects of mine and my sister's conversation last night was how much we love this Jamie girl. She definitely keeps it real. Everyday she keeps it very, VERY real. Love her.

So worth it...

2010-06-10T11:44:00.000-07:00

Writer's Workshop Prompt:
Before I was a mom...

I'm supposed to be on my way to Utah right now with my dearest love. Just he and I (and well, two other men, but no kids). It was to be a weekend of enlightenment and good times for all.

Until...

Waylon decided to participate in a fun little barf-o-rama that began just before bedtime yesterday and lasted ALL NIGHT LONG. So at home I sit... because I am a mom.

Before I was a mom I could selfishly do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. I could jet set the world over if it suited my fancy without worrying about the needs of anyone else.

Only...

It didn't suit my fancy to live for myself. Because before I was a mom all I wanted was-- to be a mom.

Barf... missed opportunities... and all.

Of course that doesn't mean I can't be bummed about the barf... missed opportunities... and all.

Because I am.

But at least those kiddos o' mine are worth the sacrifice.

So very, very worth it.

Run, run as fast as you can you can't catch me I've got Jack...

2010-06-07T08:05:00.000-07:00

Lately I've been feeling a little like Forest Gump in that I want to keep running and running and running. I feel like I need to be out in nature more to clear my head and contemplate things.

Saturday night I went out with Waylon to lie on the trampoline, gaze at the stars and try to think, but then the sprinklers came on and sent us both running for the house.

Last night I told the fam, "I'm going for a walk. Who wants to come?" All but Landon joined me, but when we found that we had walked too far from the house Paige called Landon (ah, cell phones) and he drove over to pick us up. I wanted to keep walking but because it was eight thirty and we were on a dark and secluded dirt road my sweet protective husband asked me please not to.

What I really need is to get out by myself and run. I need quiet time to reflect and ponder, to form the words that need to be written down in those letters to myself (that I spoke of in an earlier post). Until I find that psychiatrist or vault friend I NEED TO RUN. Of course running with a vault friend and or psychiatrist would be even better (will psychiatrists run with you) but for now I'm hoping that if I run with Mr. Jack the dog my husband won't object to me being out alone.

Jack's fierce (Lily, not so much) and he'll rip the head off of any who try to mess with me.

I hope.

Okay, I'll tell you...

2010-06-04T07:45:00.000-07:00

Well there certainly aren't a shortage of memes out in the blogsphere to get involved in. They're EVERYWHERE. So many in fact that it's hard to decide on just one.

But today I'm going to join with My Little Life for Five Question Friday because I don't feel like thinking too hard this morning and I'm hoping that answering questions will be easy. Plus her button is really cute. Just look at it. Cuteness.

So let's get started with today's Five Questions...

1. If you could go back to college would you change your major? Or, if you were to go to college right now...what major would you choose?

Because my major seemed to be "How to be a goofball and have as much fun as possible" then I would say YES I would definitely change my major. I've kicked myself many times through the years for not taking college more seriously (or seriously at all) back when I had the chance. If only my young self had known that that was her moment to grab opportunity and run with it. If only she had known how hard it would be to get it back later. And that's where I find myself now...

I've arrived at "later" and now it's time to get serious and figure out just what I want to be when I grow up. My baby is starting school this year and I think it would be great if I could too, but since I've already gotten that degree in being a goofball and having fun, I have no idea what to major in this time around. Hmm...

2. What do you love most about your home?

Oh my home. A subject that sends me running straight to the psychiatrist's office (if only I had a psychiatrist). I have a love hate relationship with my house. It's beautiful, it's spacious, it's surrounded by wonderful people. So what's the problem? You ask. Unless you're a psychiatrist you really don't want to know it's really far too deep and utterly ridiculous to get into. But though I've struggled with this for some time I think it's beginning to get better. Yes I think it is.

Despite all of this however, I can tell you that my favorite thing about my home is the ginormous family room at the far corner of the upper story. Notice I said "far corner" which is why it's my favorite thing especially when we have gatherings with many children or sleepovers with many children. We don't hear a thing. Fabulous.

3. What types of books do you like to read (if you like to read at all)?

While most young people can be found reading the latest fantasy or romance novel, when I was a young girl it wasn't unusual to find me with books with titles such as "Children's Hospital" or "True Stories from the ER" Of course I did read some romance, I am a girl after all, but my favorite stories have always been those of the real life human experience. And while my favorite book, the one I've read the very most is "The Hiding Place" about an amazing woman who ended up in a concentration camp during WWII, I'd have to say that I have spent much of my time reading stories of a medical nature.

In college I did a report on a book about the surgeons of the Civil War and I've read my copy of a medical encyclopedia so many times that the cover has fallen completely off.
Hmm... I think I may have found my major.

4. What is the grossest thing you've ever eaten?

While on a recent juice fast, I found a recipe for a homemade vegetable juice concoction that was supposed to be SO GOOD for strengthening my body. I think I spent a small fortune getting all of the vegetables for that juice only to turn around and DUMP IT DOWN THE DRAIN. It had to be the nastiest thing I have ever tasted, my salivary glands are spurting in protest right now just thinking about it. Trust me, I would never have poured that much money down the sink if there was any way around it but it was THAT BAD. Bluck.

5. If you HAD to be a character on a TV show, whom would you be?

This one is hard for me. I don't watch a lot of fictional television (refer back to question 3) and I have no desire to be any of the characters I watch on reality TV. They're all off their nut. I'm trying to remember if there was a TV character I really wanted to be back when I was a young single girl but I'm drawing a blank (my favorite, favorite show as a teen was "North and South" maybe I'd want to be Madeline (I think that was her name) on that show so I could smooch on that hunky, hunky Orie Maine or however you spell it (Patrick Swayze) or maybe I'd be Ashton Maine for a day because she was so delightfully evil).

Then again if I was a young single girl right now maybe it would be fun to be the Bachelorette for a season. But then I have a very hard time being mean to people and just might end up with an entourage of 20 guys following me around for the rest of my life because I'd just have to give them all a rose. Wait, I lie...

It's been so long since I've been single that I've forgotten my breakup history. Sever and run. That was my pattern. Sever a limb (my limb, his limb whatever) if you have to and high tail it out of there. Never looking back, never becoming "just friends" just run (I was never good with breakups. My older kids have heard the stories and they think I'm evil. Hmm... maybe I should be Ashton Maine after all).

Well I have...

2010-06-02T23:39:00.000-07:00

WRITER'S WORKSHOP PROMPT:
Begin each line of your post with “have you ever”.

Only I'm changing it to Begin each paragraph of your post with "have you ever".

Have you ever called a man other than your husband hot?

Did it cause controversy like it did for me HERE? When I told my husband about my niece's disapproval of my calling other men hot he said, "Well she's just young. She'll figure it out."

And it's true. She'll learn that calling a celebrity hot is the same as calling a fictional character say like Edward Cullen hot (although I'm more of a Jacob woman but whatever) it doesn't mean anything. When I told my husband this he agreed so I asked him, "Who do you think is hot?" To which he replied, "You." (so sweet).

Then I reminded him that I'm not pregnant or otherwise hormonal in any way so he could tell me the truth and when he still wouldn't I mentioned a few stars that I thought were beautiful (because women know when other women are beautiful and it has nothing to do with sea salt and vinegar potato chips (?)) and he agreed with my choices and it wasn't one bit threatening so apparently "Hot" is not a four letter word in our house.

And speaking of hot...

Have you ever thought it would be hot to have a tattoo?

I used to but now (and I hope not to offend) I'm getting sick of looking at them. They're everywhere and I'm so over it. So I LOVED when Teresa from the Real Housewives of New Jersey explained that she doesn't have any tattoos because (and I quote) "Would you put a bumper sticker on a Bentley?" Fabulous.

Have you ever watched the Real Housewives of New Jersey?

I pretty much love Jersey girls. They're so fascinating to listen to (Caroline sounds like a female version of the Godfather when she talks. Love) And I love how they're so tough. Now I know why my BFF is so cool and tough. She was born in Jersey and let me tell you, she always had my back.

Have you ever been addicted to pot?

I never was, never even tried it until my good friends Holly and Vandee introduced me to it (for medicinal purposes only of course) and now I can see myself becoming addicted to it very quickly. It feels so good I could use it all day long. In fact I'm fixin' to go stuff it up my nose right now.

Huh?

Oh... you thought I meant... oh no I'm not talking about that, I'm talking about a Neti Pot. I use it to dump a saline solution up one nostril then watch it flow out the other nostril. It's quite amazing really and does wonders for my allergies. You must try it. It's fun. Seriously.

Have you ever noticed that your blog post was getting WAY TOO LONG then ended it rather abruptly?

Tiny tantalizing tidbits for you to enjoy...

2010-05-31T22:34:00.000-07:00

So I decided to participate in some memes this week. What's a meme you ask? Well I'll tell you (now that I learned myself. Apparently there's a world of blogging lingo out there that one must learn) A meme is when a blogger has a good idea for a post, shares it, people write about it on their own blog and everyone gets together to read each other's take on the theme (btw, I ripped off that explanation from Paige at Life is a Phoenix. Thanks Paige).

Today I will join in with the Un Mom for Random Tuesday Thoughts (yes I know the date on my post says Monday. That's because I happen to be writing this on Monday, but you'll most likely be reading it on Tuesday so it's all good).

Anyway, random Tuesday thoughts are just that--random thoughts. So lets play along shall we.

Because my oldest chicken is preparing to fly the nest, we decided to have family pictures taken. The above is a sample of said pictures. Love it. Only, for reasons I don't want to get into, we can't blow this family picture up into a large and beautiful wall hanging. So on Friday we dressed up in our picture taking clothes (again) and traveled for a photo session (again). I'm hoping the new pictures turn out but it was so windy that day that I'm a little nervous about it.

Also the oldest chicken's hair is chopped off short in the new pictures and Waylon (the youngest chicken) couldn't move his head so I guess we'll just have to keep our fingers crossed for a positive outcome.

Friday morning, just hours before the photo shoot, Waylon decided to jump on the trampoline while holding our dog Jack on a leash. All was well until Jack saw a rabbit, sailed off of the trampoline in hopes of catching it and took Waylon with him. Fabulous. Waylon said he flew up higher than the swing set before slamming into the ground with his face, which is why he couldn't move his head for the pictures. It was bad timing for him to engage in such a little boy stunt, but I am grateful that he wasn't hurt any worse.

I must be growing up because my visit to the Valley of the Sun didn't excite me quite as much this time. And (brace yourselves) I didn't have any desire to go to yard sales while I was there (I ended up going anyway when Waylon and my nephew woke up early and needed to get out of the house so the others could sleep, but I only bought a couple of needed items). I'm just so sick of stuff. SICK OF IT. I'm done with stuff and want to throw all of my existing stuff away. Yes I do.

I hate driving on cruise control. It makes me feel out of control. My husband said, "Set the cruise control."

I said, "OK." Then, "Yuck, I don't like this." Then, "Crap, why is the car making that racing noise when I'm not even touching the gas?"

My husband said, "It's climbing a hill."

I said, "I don't like cruise control." And turned it off.

My husband said, "I'm not tired anymore. Let me drive." My husband likes to drive. Me, not so much (obviously), which is another reason we are living in happily ever afterness.

My house is full of extra chickens tonight because it's summer and that's how we roll in the summer. We invite extra chickens to come spend the night. But tonight we invited five extra chickens and it's been a little crazy in the coop. But only a little crazy and nothing I can't handle because I'm a super tough chic like that (tough as in nothing bothers me not as in children fear me. No children fear me, but apparently they respect me because all is quiet now and I think they might actually be asleep). L-O-V-E summertime.

A hot topic...

2010-05-27T23:39:00.000-07:00

We've all heard it from Dr. Phil and other such experts, "Don't fight in front of your children it makes them worry about the stability of their home." Well apparently it's not good to say the word "hot" in front of children either unless of course you are referring to your dearest love.

I learned this today while cranking the tunes to get through my drudge work. It was when Michael Hutchence from Inxs began to tell me that he Needs Me Tonight that I got into trouble. It wasn't entirely my fault though. I mean Paige started it after all when she proclaimed, "He is so hot." To which I agreed then added, "Yes he is. We must look at him right now." So I pulled him up on YouTube and proceeded to Ooo and Ahh with Paige.

Fast forward about 20 minutes...

I continued to work in the kitchen when Paige came to tell me, "Just for future reference, you probably shouldn't say guys are hot in front of B. (cousin). She went upstairs and told S. (honorary cousin) that you just called a guy hot and S. said 'SHE DID?!' So you kind of freaked them out."

To which I replied, "I don't have a problem with that. I'm sorry. The man is hot. And besides I thought he was hot when I was a teen girl, before I was married, so it's all good."

I love the memories that can be triggered simply by listening to a song. Inxs, particularly the song "Need You Tonight", takes me instantly back to driving down the road (Southern to get to school--Broadway to go see friends) in my little blue Karmann Ghia

with my big AquaNet hair blowing out the opened window. I loved that song and when it would come on the radio it filled me with instant sass. I'd crank it as loud as I could and sing along while exchanging glances with certain passersby of the male persuasion. So fun.

Because of memories such as these, "Need You Tonight" will always be one of my favorite songs and Michael Hutchence will always be HOT to me. Smokin' baby. But let me assure my dear niece and honorary niece that they don't need to worry. I will not be leaving my dearest love anytime soon for this dead eighties star-- who happens to be very HOT-- for two reasons...

1) I love my dearest love and don't want any other man and

2) Well... he's dead.

Dearest Brunette Self, will you be my vault friend...

2010-05-26T22:23:00.000-07:00

WRITER'S WORKSHOP PROMPT:
Describe a time when you had difficulty communicating with someone who speaks a different language than you.

I have wonderful people in my life. I'm richly blessed. But sometimes I feel like the language of the deepest part of my soul is one that no other person on this earth would understand. I feel like there are certain things I will never, ever be able to communicate. So I was thinking--today in fact, before I read this prompt--that since I alone understand the language of my soul perhaps I should write down my deepest thoughts, address them to myself, read them then burn them in what could potentially be a very therapeutic ceremony.
Or...
I could just find a therapist and skip the whole writing and burning part all together.
Fabulous.

What I really need is a vault friend.
Are you a vault friend or do you just have to spill the beans?
Mail me your credentials and we'll talk.

Continued confession...

2010-05-25T23:35:00.000-07:00

It's not that I don't love the one I made the commitment to. I DO. You have all heard me profess my love for him right here on this blog, more than once. I love him for his strength, his conviction and his hottie, hottie, hotness. But even with all of that it wasn't enough to bridle my passion for...
HER.

Oh Paula, I love you. And I don't care who knows it. I know I pledged my devotion to Hugh and believe me I tried to stay true to him, going on a high protein diet and working out everyday, but I couldn't get you out of my mind. I missed your sinful goodness. I needed fat. I needed butter. So help me Paula I NEEDED CARBS, oh how I needed carbs. And so I slowly invited you back into my world and I'm not ashamed to admit that I didn't regret a single moment of our time together.
Until...
I did a cleansing fast, lost 10 pounds, and began to feel healthy again, which lead me back to thoughts of...
Him.

And now I want him back. Oh Hugh please say it isn't too late for us. Tell me that I can still be hot, ripped and sexy like you (or the female version of you). Please Hugh, please. I'm sorry that I betrayed you with Paula. Well, actually I'm not, but I'm ready to forsake her now and come back to you. Well mostly, I'll probably still spend time with her on the weekends, but please know that I'll ALWAYS LOVE YOU MORE THAN HER I promise.

So what do you say we meet for breakfast tomorrow? Come on, please. We can have egg whites without toast... or butter. Yes, I'll do that for you. I'll do it for you Hugh.

That must count for something.

Feeling like a fool...

2010-05-24T10:53:00.000-07:00

Are you gonna stay with the one who loves you
Or are you goin' back to the one you love?
Someone's gonna cry when they know they've lost you
Someone's gonna thank the stars above
~Glenn Frey

Confessions aren’t easy. Especially when I know that this will let you my blogging friends (and others) down. But I must get this off my chest. I must come clean if I am ever to move forward.

Sometimes in life we make commitments based solely on the fact that we know it’s what’s best for us. I am one who has done this. I made a commitment to stay with one who was good for me, who had my best interest at heart, one who would take care of me and see me through for the long haul—even though my passion for another still ran deep.

They say transgression begins in our thoughts and oh how my thoughts betrayed me. I tried to stay focused, to push unwanted fantasies out of my mind, but no matter how I tried to combat it, an untamed fervor pulsed through me and soon…it was too late.

It started out small, a quick bite at lunch or a brief encounter for dinner, then it all fell apart. Maybe it was because I had tried to move on too quickly. Perhaps if I had let go in stages instead of trying to stifle my desires so abruptly, this wouldn’t have happened. But it did happen. As much as I hate to admit it, it did. I succumbed to temptation, spiraling into a torrid affair…
with the one I love.

TO BE CONTINUED…

I'm telling you, don't try it...

2010-05-19T22:09:00.000-07:00

WRITER'S WORKSHOP PROMPT:
What was your medicine? Write about a time you remember being ill.

It all began on Mother's Day a short time ago. We sat visiting at my mother-in-law's house when I picked up her Nutritional Healing book and while thumbing through it came across the cleansing juice fast. Hmm, that sounds interesting--I thought. And right then and there I decided to give it a try the very next day.

For this fast I had to eat nothing but raw fruits and vegetables for two days then nothing but juice, herb tea, and water on the third day followed by two more days of raw fruits and vegetables after that. The fast was surprisingly easy. By the time I reached the juice day I wasn't hungry at all and never felt the least bit deprived. It was a piece of cake (well, not cake) easy peasy and I even lost 10 pounds. Wow, this is so worth it--I told myself.

UNTIL...

The cleansing portion of my fruit and vegetable party caught up with me and OH MY GOSH I WAS SO SICK. So sick I felt like curling up in a ball and dying.
This is so not worth it--I decided--so, so not worth it.

The only medicine for this ailment was time, patience in my suffering and oh yeah, those 10 pounds I lost. That was kind of fun, but still so not worth it.

Seriously.

His ten cow wife...

2010-05-16T22:15:00.000-07:00

Today while huggin' on my husband in the hallway I told him, "You are my completeness."
I then walked away to find Waylon's church shoes and he followed me asking, "What do you mean?" And when I opened my mouth to tell him what I meant emotion took over and I started to cry and then I couldn't get the words out and that's just annoying don'tcha think.

When I could finally speak I said, "It's like the Lady told her husband at the meeting we went to yesterday (we went to a meeting yesterday--in case you didn't catch that) when she thanked him for letting her shine--
--You always let me shine."

And then I pondered just how blessed I am to be so loved, which made me walk around with a little shine in my step and smile in my heart the rest of the day.

Having a completeness is a very good thing indeed.

Dirty laundry...

2010-05-12T22:48:00.000-07:00

WRITER'S WORKSHOP PROMPT:
Whom did you hide from? Write about a hiding place you haven’t used for a while.

I wanted to share something really juicy for this prompt. Having a secret hiding place and a story about hiding from someone there sounds like something that could be very exciting if told right. But because I try to stay clear of the juicy stuff on this here blog, I'll share the story of when I got caught smoking (just kidding--that's just rolled up paper) I mean hiding with my college roommates.

My first semester away at school I lived in the dorms. This had its perks (like not having to hear my neighbors having relations at night, but I'll save that for another post) but it also came with a curfew. Blah. Who wants a curfew when you're in college?

Well my roommates and I certainly didn't like it. No we did not. What we did like however were boys. Yes we did.

Boys such as these whom we stayed out late visiting one night only to find ourselves locked out of the dorms when we returned. Oops. Fortunately someone even sneakier than we had left the laundry room door propped opened and in we slid. Woo-hoo. EXCEPT...

While in the laundry room we heard a search party going on in the courtyard, a search party looking for us. Our absence had already been discovered. Dang. We hid in the laundry room as long as we could then, coming up with the perfect plan, we ran out in a giddy, giggly fashion. And when asked where we had been we explained,

"We were just playing hide and seek in the laundry room."

Insert the chirping of crickets here.

They looked at us like we were the lamest goofballs ever, but at least we were able to hide the fact that we were late and avoid getting into trouble. So whatever snooty girls who never play hide and seek or stay out late carousing with boys. What-ev-er.

P.S. I've hidden in the laundry room since that day, but that story fits into the juicy category and it's definitely a place I haven't used for a while--for hiding or otherwise (especially not laundry).

Coloring outside of the lines...

2010-05-11T09:02:00.000-07:00

The other night my mom was teasing me about something I've mentioned on my blog from time to time. No big deal really, in fact she probably has no idea what I'm referring to, but it made me pause and wonder if maybe I'm too much of a dork (a.a.h.) to be left alone with something as personal as a blog. I can't be trusted people. I'll always be me. I'll always tell the stories that I want to tell and mention things (albeit eyebrow raising) that go with those stories. Can't help it. Just can't. I like stories. I like sharing stories. I LOVE the human experience and I don't mind talking about my piece of that experience.

Then, as if to let me know that I'm okay, I had an interesting dream that night.
In my dream I was painting a large warehouse wall in bold colors and patterns (somewhat like the playroom walls I painted in my Gilbert house). It was a large project so others came to volunteer their help. As we walked across a field toward the warehouse, one of the volunteers looked at my painting and said, "Oh you shouldn't paint like this. You need to cover all of those bright colors up with something normal."

But instead of being saddened by this or worrying about being a dork (a.a.h.) I looked that man in the eye and with bold indignation told him, "No, I don't want it to be normal. I like these colors."

So there you have it, one of the most important lessons in this the human experience, LEARNING TO LIKE OUR COLORS.

And, even though the joke might be on me...
That's exactly what I'm trying to do.

Happy Mother's Day to one and all...

2010-05-09T22:18:00.000-07:00

"What do you want for Mother's Day?" It's a question I've been asked a lot this past week. To which I always gave the same answer,
Nothing
Nothing
Nothing.
Because seriously I don't need anything. But when Rick insisted that he must buy me something while we grocery shopped together Saturday night I finally gave in and told him he could buy me a magazine. And so he did. "Cottage Style" magazine to be exact and I really do love it.
But what I love even more than that--my favorite Mother's Day gift every year-- are the cute little handmade cards given to me by my kiddos. Love.

Here's some highlights from this years special messages:

Waylon says that he feels happy when I take him to the park
That my hands are special for tying his shoes
That I'm funny when I make cards for his birthday
And that he loves me because of the food I make for him

Jamie says that I'm special because I'm talented
That I'm funniest when I call her Charlie Brown
That I always say "Cake-a-poo"
That I'm best at writing
That I'm smart because I know all about falling asleep
That she likes it when we're going somewhere together
And that I'm special because she loves me

And Easton Says:
My mom is dear to my heart because I love her smile. She gives the best hugs. She always has time for me. She's kind. She comforts me when I'm feeling bad. She works her best to keep our family very happy. She doesn't give up easily. She never looses gratitude for what's important to her. She's responsible. She's always happy.

And she also wrote me this poem

In a field of a million daisies,
They sway with the breeze and gently
Each one settles.
They fill the field with joy and delight,
With piles of fair blue petals.
The fairest one stands,
With a wonderful shade of blue,
And Mother the fairest daisy is you.

So you see it's true. I really don't need anything.
I've already got it all.

As good as it gets...

2010-05-08T14:14:00.000-07:00

Today was a good day.

A very good day indeed.

Thanks Mom...

2010-05-05T22:23:00.000-07:00

WRITER'S WORKSHOP PROMPT:
Memories of Mom

Of course I have many, many memories of my mom (still making more too thankfully) but for some reason the first thought that came to my mind when I read this prompt was...
Dresses.

My mom was a master seamstress (I say was because she rarely sews anymore). She made all of our clothes growing up. All. of. them. And she did an amazing job at it I must say. You should see how stylish we were in our old home movies. We were superfly baby. SUPER-FLY.

I especially loved Easter because that meant new (often matching) dresses hand made by Mom for us to wear to church. Fabulous.

My mom sewed like this until we began to get older and needed (NEEDED) the mall in our lives.

And it was at the mall in oh so posh Scottsdale that another fond dress memory took place. It was here that my mom and I went to look for a dress for my senior prom. We found the dress pictured above (this is a picture of a picture that my mom emailed me today. Seems her scanner is broken too) the details don't show in the picture (btw, is that the ugliest background ever or what?) but this dress was sparkly, chic, and gorgeous and both my mom and I fell in love with it the minute I put it on.

I remember it was over our budget but my mom wanted to buy it for me anyway. This was something that rarely happened and it made me feel special that she would do that for me (warm fuzzy time).

And on a side note:

I was not a froofy prom dress girl. See exhibit B, the above picture of my junior prom. Notice no froof. I liked sleek simplicity. No froofy, poofy for me. No siree bob (not that there's anything wrong with froofy, poofy if that's what your heart so desires. It's just not for me. That's all)

Which brings us to another dress moment.

They say that every girl dreams of her wedding day. Well not me apparently because I was pretty nonchalant about the whole wedding planning business. "Whatever" seemed to be my motto (but I'll save that story for another post). So I'm very lucky that my mom used her keen eye to find a large, boxie wedding gown (much too big for me) on the sales rack of a bridal boutique, then immediately see the potential in its beautiful beaded fabric. We snatched up that dress, took it to a seamstress and had it made into a gorgeous gown just for me (with not too much froof. Small bell, no train...you know).

I've said it before, I love being a girl (you can be girly without liking froof) and I owe much of this to the example of my mother who, from my earliest memories, made it fun to get dressed up and be pretty.

P.S. Why eighties hair, why? Why'd you have to go and ruin all of my pictures? Why?

Raising Arizona (for real)...

2010-05-03T08:26:00.000-07:00

I've mentioned before that I met my husband in a college Spanish class and that when he walked past my desk the angels sang. They sang then and yelled at me a few times later, but clearly, CLEARLY, they wanted us together. And just this weekend I found a fun connection that might explain why (it also might have nothing to do with why, but it's a fun connection just the same).

For Easton's end of the year project, her class is doing an Arizona fair. She was given the assignment to write a paper and make some kind of diagram about something in Arizona history. One of her options was to write about an Arizona ancestor. Well let me tell you what, that girl's abounding in Arizona ancestors from both sides of her family. Both Rick and my peeps were among the early settlers of Arizona. We have many stories of Arizona history to share, boy howdy do we have stories. No wonder we like it here so much. We ARE Arizona.

After reviewing all of her options, Easton decided to do her report on her great-great-great grandmother on my paternal side, Alice Hanson Hatch (she picked her because she loved the story of when Alice and her family crossed the frozen Colorado river to come to Arizona).

Well in her research we learned that Alice's husband Lorenzo Hill Hatch, Easton's great-great-great grandfather on my side, was first counselor in the presidency of the Snowflake stake (in the LDS church) to Jesse N. Smith, Easton's great-great-great grandfather on Rick's side. So my and Rick's great-great grandfathers worked and served together those many years ago to establish the church in Arizona. Because of this I am sure they had a great love and admiration for one another and very well could have been among those angels trying to get my attention 20 years ago.

And if they were I say THANK YOU!
Marrying Mr. Rick is the best decision I've ever made.

P.S. It was said that Alice Hanson Hatch had a gorgeous singing voice. So much so that she helped share the message of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ through song in her native land of England before coming to America. So I just betcha that she was among those singing for me too.

Thank you great-great grandma Hatch, for that and for all of the sacrifices you made that have blessed my life so richly. You are an example of strength and faith and a true disciple of Jesus Christ. I feel honored to have been able to learn more about you.

Never "Too Gone for too Long" I'd love for you to come back home...

2010-04-30T09:39:00.000-07:00

(I've used this picture several times on my blog which proves the point I made in my last post about taking pictures. We gots to take pictures of ourselves people. We just gots ta)

I can't say that I like country music. I try to sometimes but it never lasts very long. But one country artist that I never tire of is Randy Travis and it has much to do with my memories of this daddy person pictured above.

Randy Travis' greatest hits was an album we listened to on our long drive to Idaho together when he dropped me off at college. Some of the songs were the perfect fit for that turbulent yet changing time in my life and my dad cheered me on as I proclaimed my own strength and conviction in the fact that my life thereafter would be different...better. Randy Travis' lyrics made me feel powerful. I imagined myself singing them to the people and situation that weren't working in my life and the thought made me smile.

And the memories that those songs bring to my mind still make me smile today. And while listening to them the other day the strangest thing happened...
Twenty years without him and I still somehow found myself starting toward the phone to call my dad to ask him if he remembered that time. The blizzard, the buffalo stew at a roadside lodge, the laughter and pep talks. I walked toward the phone and paused because...wait...I didn't have a number to call (my dad was gone before cell phones. He never had a cell phone number. Can you imagine) I didn't have a number to call and that reality pressed down on my chest, crushing the breath right out of me.

And then I cried.

And you know, I thank Randy Travis for that too.
Because those tears proved just how important that daddy person pictured above is to me and that he will forever and always be mine.

P.S. If my dad could've had a blog. If only he could have had a blog. Just think of the stories I'd have access too. I guess this little hobby 0'mine is far more important than it appears on the surface. In other words, looks like I ain't goin' nowhere any time soon.
In other words, I'll be back to blab at you some more later.

Happy weekend all...

I want a do-over...

2010-04-28T23:32:00.000-07:00

WRITER'S WORKSHOP PROMPT:

List five things you would do different if you started blogging today.

Hmm, five things huh. I went to a pageant with my girls tonight over at the high school. It was a "beauty" pageant of sorts, only for guys this time not girls. Yes the guys were prancing around in swimsuits and showing off their talents. Funny. But now I'm tired and I don't know if I can think.

Being at the high school caused me to reminisce a bit and I wondered if maybe I should pick the writing prompt that said:

Who have you forgotten about until right now? Think hard and list five people from your past that you really should have written something about by now but haven’t. Circle the name of the person who stands out the strongest. Write a description or brief memoir of that person.

I'm thinking that prompt could be pretty fun, but then again it could also be dangerous because it can sometimes get kind of touchy when one starts blogging about the past. And this brings us to the first thing I would do differently if I started blogging today...

I would be very careful about what I did or didn't say. There have been times for instance when I've talked about how I didn't like "okra" (I actually don't like okra, but that's not what I'm really talking about here) or how "okra" didn't agree with me, gave me indigestion if you will... only to remember that, oh crap, I'm friends with or know people who are actually quite fond of "okra", who love "okra" in fact. And then I feel terrible because although "okra" may not be my vegetable of choice I know that it is indeed a very fabulous food in its own right and I wish it and all who love it nothing but the very best. And then because I feel so bad (I always get into trouble when I feel bad about something) I then write about how it's not "okra's" fault alone but mine as well that it gives me indigestion. And then I feel stupid because who cares anyway and oh man now I've misrepresented myself and yeah...
I would definitely be careful about what I did or didn't say. That's all.

And 2

I would change the names of my entire clan. Yes I would. Not made up word names, numbers or symbols but real names, cool names. All who know me know how much I love the whole thinking up names thing. Love it. So why didn't I make up names for my fam on this blog? Why? I think I'd be Scarlett because I seem to be Scarlett O'Hara like. Not that I'm a ruthless wretch like she was, I've never stolen my sister's man or relentlessly sought the affections of another woman's husband, but my motto does seem to be "I can't think about that now, I'll think about it tomorrow." So Scarlett it would be. But that's neither here nor there because it's far too late for that now. I've got hundreds of posts for goodness sake.

And 3

I wouldn't boob about things on my blog. If and when I had a bad day I'd tell it to a carton of marshmallow eggs instead (I really do love those things). Because seriously my bad days last all of a few hours and then (through the miracle of prayer) I'm back to feeling all sunshiny with pink puffy clouds and lollipops, but nobody knows that because they see a 500 word essay on my blog that says otherwise and I sound so pathetically downtrodden and miserable like when really I'm quite happy. And I don't like that. No I don't.
So no more boobing on my blog (well, I mean MOSTLY no more boobing).

And because I am so tired (and not to mention the fact that this post is quite long enough already) I think I'll make this a list of the 3 things I would do different if I started blogging today and leave it at that.
Thanks for visiting.

Love your good friend,
Scarlett

P.S. I would not/will not stop posting pictures of myself (goofy or otherwise) on my blog because after losing my dad so early in life I know how happy it would make me to have more pictures of him (goofy or otherwise) so I include the pictures for my posterity (and my husband who likes to take the pictures I post and turn them into wallpaper for his computer--the man loves me). Besides don't you just like to know who you're talking to and or reading about? I know I do.

I think I'm in love...

2010-04-27T21:48:00.000-07:00

Last week I needed some cute flower headbands for my girls (needed them) but at 20 bucks a pop it just wasn't gonna happen. I mean with four daughters that's eighty stinkin' dollars. I'm so good at math. Actually I'm not and here's a little side story to prove it...

The other night while at an interview at my church the counselor, who is also a teacher, asked how my kids were doing in school. I said that one was struggling with Geometry, but that I couldn't blame her because it never made sense to me either. At which time he said, "You know without Geometry life would be pointless." We both smiled and if I had only left it at that all would be fine, but no, we were making small talk so I had to, well, talk and say, "Oh, I don't know. I think I've gotten along just fine without it." At which time he somewhat sheepishly explained to me that it had been a joke because Geometry deals with points and all that jazz. You know. But of course I didn't know because I DON'T GET GEOMETRY. Hadn't I just told him that? Anyway, it was funny because I'm simply not embarrassed about my lack of math skills. To each have been given gifts and math is definitely not mine, but no worries because I have other mad skills to get me by in life.

Like my new mad skill of making my own cute flower headbands (made the flowers and all) for my girls at far less than 20 bucks a pop. I know, right.
S-K-I-L-L-S!

And now I give you...

The Marlee
*

The Paige

The Easton

and

The Jamie

******

LOVE. LOVE. LOVE them (even more so in person).

Puh, Geometry schmometry. Who needs points when you gots purty flowers?

Bananas for bananas...

2010-04-21T23:29:00.000-07:00

WRITER'S WORKSHOP PROMPT:
“I’m mad at myself. I’m embarrassed. I can’t believe after all these years, I’m still talking about my weight.” Poor Ope. What are you mad at yourself about?

"I'm sorry, have we met?" I asked as I walked past my large living room mirror and caught a glimpse of an unknown entity following closely behind me. So close in fact that it seemed to be growing out of my backside.

Oh wait...

It was my backside, which had somehow taken on a much more, shall we say, voluptuous form than I was accustomed to.

I blame it on the "freshman fifteen". No I'm not a freshman in college, but since moving to what feels to me to be a vacation town (the mountains are where you vacation when you're from the city) I think I've been eating like one.

I've gained 10 to 12 pounds (I learned this at my recent trip to the Dr.) and I'm determined to put a stop to it right now...well... that is AFTER the banana bread. Yes after the banana bread I will definitely put. a. stop. to. it. I mean what am I supposed to do when the kids don't finish the banana bread (/bars/cake or whatever you want to call it) the night before and I'm left home alone with it...all day...just the two of us... seriously, what?

EAT IT OKAY. That's what I'm supposed to do because I simply can't resist the stuff. I just can't. And now I'm mad at myself. So, so mad.

No--I'm not mad at myself for eating the banana bread. Of course I'm gonna eat it. This stuff pretty much rocks the "good food that sticks to your bum and thighs" universe (especially with the accompanying cream cheese frosting).

No--I'm mad at myself for letting the bananas get over ripe in the first place.
They're so much less fattening in their original form.

P.S. Today I received a request to make this banana bread/bars/cake (whatever you want to call it) for a couple's up coming wedding reception. Yes it's that good.
...worth having a big bum good?
Um...Obviously.

Happy (spice)...

2010-04-20T09:22:00.000-07:00

So yesterday was kind of a dark day for awhile. It was. I felt way less than awesome yesterday and thought that I must truly give up blogging because if I had to hear myself say even one more sentence I was gonna barf. Seriously throw up people.
So I went to my Father in Heaven and told him that I was feeling way less than awesome and that I felt pretty much like a nothing loser with pretty much nothing but loser-esque things to say and that I sorta felt like I needed to stop talking altogether because who am I anyway...
.
And that's when he gave me a big bear hug like only he can and told me that he thought I was a pretty awesome girl indeed. And well...
Who am I to argue with that?
.
So thanks to all who gave me a pep talk yesterday. I didn't really mean to fish for that. I was just kinda venting to myself a bit. But I thank you anyway for being so sweet.
...hey goofball, when you vent on a blog it's not to yourself. When will you learn that?

Anyway, on to lighter and brighter things...

Last night I was visiting with Marlee when she said, "That's so lame sauce."
.
I said, "Lame sauce? Are you Lauren?" And then I said, "No wait, Lauren says lamespice and you said lame sauce."
.
She then asked, "Who's Lauren?"
.
And I said, "You know the cute newlywed (that's what I call her)."
.
"Oh, you mean busy bee Lauren?" She asked.
.
"Yes. She's so cute." I answered. "She's my favorite young person."
.
And then Marlee laughed at me because I must be old to have a "favorite young person" but whatever.
.
But Lauren is my favorite super cute young newlywed person. She is. Her blog reminds me of those oh so fun newlywed days. You must check it out. You must check it out by clicking right here because I know you will love her.
.
And right now she is having an awesome (spice) giveaway over on her blog. Just look what you can win...

Is this not the cutest headband ever (and yes I get an extra chance to win by mentioning it, but I had planned to post about BBL at some point anyway because she is my favorite young person after all). Busy Bee Lauren makes and sells super cute headbands like these, which is another reason to go visit her blog. So go. You know you want to. You could say I sent you, but she doesn't know who I am so it won't help but whatever.
Fun-diddly-dun.

My new best friend...

2010-04-15T22:45:00.000-07:00

My husband thinks I'm too good for this world (my husband is too good to be true) because of this he doesn't like it when I get sick. No not one bit. And dang I've been sick lately. My allergies have been a SERIOUS pain in and of themselves, but on top of that my kidney is killing me. It really, really hurts right now.

Thinking that perhaps my kidney infection hadn't fully cleared up, I went to the Dr. today and he informed me that my infection was gone, but that I was very dehydrated. Apparently something about the altitude and or climate up here causes people to not realize that they're thirsty. Crazy. And because of my dehydration I am now the proud owner of dun, dun, dun...

KIDNEY STONES.

Yikes. I've never had kidney stones. I don't want them now. And judging by how bad I already feel, I'm thinking this can't be good. But at least I'm not chronic or terminal, which makes my hubby very happy.

Guess I'm not as good as he thinks.

It's a crazy small world, and that's okay with me...

2010-04-13T23:33:00.000-07:00

Jamie invited a friend (I try not to mention the names of kids who don't belong to me on my blog) over to play today and I eavesdropped on a funny conversation they had on the ride home. Here's just a little of it...

Jamie's friend: We were almost cousins you know.

Jamie: Yeah but I wouldn't be me if we were (funny that she figured that out).

They went on to say more and as I listened to their cute conversation I decided that I love this little town...
...I'm sorry, what was that?

Okay, I admit it. I love this little town because I have family here who have become my best friends and friends here who have become my family. I love that my kids have constant access to cousins and good friends (almost cousins or not) who are really like honorary cousins because we love them so much--including our good friends the Gales who we've been following around from town to town for years--seriously, it's a crazy story. And it's a crazy wonderful life in this crazy wonderful small town 'o mine.

Yeah I said it.
But don't be expecting me to stop boobing about the loss of my Valley of the Sun anytime soon cause it ain't gonna happen.

No. It's. Not.

I'm feeling a little snotty...

2010-04-12T10:30:00.000-07:00

Yes I am still suffering with allergies and walking around with tissue stuffed up my nose (it's a good look dontcha think) but I'm also feeling a little snotty about the fact that I am so behind on blog reading.

My husband doesn't generally read my blog, but when I directed him to it this weekend (to show him something--I don't remember what) he noticed that I occasionally post pictures of myself on it and, because he kinda likes me, this piqued his interest. So I guess he decided to do a little blog hopping (mostly to St. Johns friends--where the above picture was taken by the way) while I got Waylon to sleep last night.

When we both finally retired to our own bed he started talking about how this friend or that was doing this, that or the other and I said, "What? Where did you see that?"

"On her blog." He told me.

And so I checked my handy, dandy blog reading list this morning and realized just how far behind I am. I guess that's what happens when you take a break from the computer to "find yourself". I'm way behind on emails too (sorry Mary, I would have loved to have seen you in Payson).

So this week I am gonna try to play catch-up while still maintaining balance in my life. I need to visit old friends and check out the blogs of new friends, who so generously read and comment on my ramblings, and follow up on emails and find the perfect fabulous fun time for my fabulous friend who is the newest member of the fabulously forty club, and... well you get the picture.

And maybe, just maybe, when I get all of this done I won't feel so snotty anymore (in my heart that is. I don't think the snot in my nose will ever go away. I really don't).

P.S. I asked Rick if he is going to start blogging now and he said, Heeeck no (those of you who know him know what he really said) but when I clarified that I meant only reading blogs and not writing one he said, maybe.

And the drumroll please...

2010-04-08T23:26:00.000-07:00

Today was an exciting day. I got a phone call from the post office this morning telling me that Landon's mission call had arrived. Woo-hoo. And after a long day of work we assembled the (very loud) family to find out where he will be spending his next two years. So fun.

P.S. There's about nine seconds of blue screen before it starts so hang in there, it's a comin'.

P.P.S. There's been many a discussion amongst my extended family members about how loud we the extended family can get when we congregate together. And after watching this video again this morning I say holy crack-a-toley people. Be still wild beasts, be still.

P.P.P.S. If you can't watch the video I'll post later about where Landon's going and also share a fun story about it.

Changin' my song...

2010-04-08T00:13:00.001-07:00

WRITER'S WORKSHOP PROMPT:
Who is a bird-brain? Think about all the birds you’ve seen–from songbirds to hunters. Compare one or more people you know to different types of birds in a piece of writing.

*******************
I don't even have a photo to go with this post because I am the bird-brain. My sister asked me why I haven't been blogging lately and I guess I'd have to say that it's because I've been feeling like a bird-brain and wanted to put a stop to it.

I want more in my life. I want to be the best me possible. Lukewarm ain't cuttin' it. I want better. So I've taken this past week to step away from as many life distractions as I could and I've tried to really dive into those things of greater value. I even replaced smutty reality television for uplifting programming while I sorted socks (sorting socks has been an important part of my self discovery this week as well. I want peace. And for me that means sorted socks) and I have to say that I love uplifting programming. There are some awesome people in this world.

So in this bird-brain comparison I guess I'd have to say that I am the ugly duckling, fighting desperately to become the beautiful swan that I was born to be.

Less than that is not an option.
Not anymore.

Huh, who'd a thunk it...

2010-03-31T23:47:00.000-07:00

WRITER'S WORKSHOP PROMPT:
LIST 10 THINGS BLOGGING HAS TAUGHT YOU...

1) If you take yourself or others too seriously, you probably shouldn’t blog.
But having said that...

2) The lyrics from the Anna Nalick song, Breathe…

And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you'll use them, however you want to.

…are so true in blogland. I feel like I’m running around nakey far too often.

3) Blogs really do make great journals. Sometimes I read through my archives and think, “I’m so glad I recorded that moment.” And if I ever get my blog printed into book form I know it will become a cherished family heirloom.

4) I’m a lame friend because I tend to be a drive-by blogger, taking a peek from the car window without getting out to say hello. Comments are nice. Comments cause warm fuzzies. I NEED TO COMMENT MORE.

5) There is always more to learn, and bloggers are the best, most generous teachers.

6) Creativity is a divine characteristic that resides in each and every one of us.

7) It is a small world after all and blogging has helped me reconnect with family and friends and has introduced me to many fabulous new ones. Love it.

8) Feelings of inadequacy and an overall doubt in my true value are intensified by blogging and are something I must fight everyday. Hate that.

9) The human spirit can be awe inspiring and reading about the strength of others helps me to keep fighting everyday. Love people.

10) “You can learn to walk tall by looking up to those that are ‘taller’ than you are.” Is a statement that I find to be very true in the blogsphere.

And bonus #11 (as much as I hate to admit it) I really do love blogging and will probably (no matter how hard I try) never be able to give it up.

So here's to many more years together my blogging friends--I LUV YA.
Thanks for stopping by.

Now stop by Mama Kat's for more writer's workshop fun (or better yet, join in. You know you want to).