The Talk

I have a big, thick post to write about my birthday. It was one of the best ones ever!! But the talk definitely shut down that event and I was up late, late last night writing it. Why do I procrastinate? You know what was funny? One of the footnotes of a talk I used as a reference had a quote from Spencer W. Kimball about procrastination. "Procrastination is an unwillingness to accept personal responsibility." As I was reading it at 2:30 in the morning, I thought, "Ouch!" So, today was church, a big, long nap and then cake with Jay's sister, Kelly and husband, Jerry. Rather than write about it tonight, I'm going to post about it tomorrow. But I thought...since my talk has consumed me for the last 21 hours (I know! I was so unwilling for my birthday to end that I didn't start writing it until 11:30 at night. Bad, bad, bad!) that I'd share my feelings with the rest of you too. Jay did great on his talk and had a full night of sleep. Someone even came up to him afterwards and wanted his copy. No such requests for mine, so I'll just force my copy on all of you!:) Well, at least I know my mom wants to read it.

Here goes:

I remember the day I was baptized. I had been eight years old for about three weeks (it was one of those once a month schedules and there were several other people being baptized the same day) and I remember feeling that those three weeks of sins (after all, you’re accountable after the age of eight) were about to be washed away. I really do remember wanting to stay clean, perfect, without sin for as long as possible...kind of like when I start a diet, nay...a lifestyle change (because diets are taboo) and decide that I’m going to be perfect, on track, and never put anything into my body again that isn’t going to build muscle mass or reduce my risk of cancer.

Obviously, both wishes are unrealistic. We will never achieve perfection in this life. I don’t remember what or when, but I’m fairly certain that my streak after baptism was short. My lifestyle changes obviously haven’t been permanent either. We sin. We err. We idle. We are human and as King Benjamin explained, “the natural man is an enemy to God.”

President Spencer W. Kimball said: “There is a prevalent, perhaps subconscious, feeling that the Lord designed repentance only for those who commit murder, adultery, theft or other heinous crimes. This is of course, not so. If we are humble and desirous of living the gospel, we will come to think of repentance as applying to everything we do in life, whether it be spiritual or temporal in nature. Repentance is for every soul who has not yet reached perfection.”

For every soul who has not yet reached perfection. I would estimate that everyone in this room qualifies under that definition. And yet, once you get past confusion of the teenage years, when temptation and evil cast a shadow over most events, or past the young adult stage, when life decisions, such as your career, or marriage, or even activity in the church will set you on a path for decades, the constant threat of evil dangerously subsides. I say dangerously, because when evil shouts at you, you know it’s there. You hear it and you’re forced to respond - for good or for bad. The awareness is there.

When the volume of evil turns down from a shout to a whisper, and the only blatantly evil thing I consistently face is shopping at Wal-Mart with three young children, the topic of repentance can easily lower a few notches in the hierarchy of important gospel topics. I am no longer invited to parties on the weekend where I have to wonder if there will be alcohol there. I am past the tough stage of dating and being attracted to a boy while trying to stay morally clean (I am not past the stage of being attracted to a boy. I find my husband very attractive.) I come to church on Sunday, accept callings, pay my tithing, try to do my visiting teaching, and say my prayers before hopping into bed. It’s disturbingly easy to sit at church, believing everything is going well, and hope that the youth listen up when the “R” word, Repentance, gets used. Or the person struggling with activity. Or the family you know went boating last Sunday. But that “R” word is for everyone - especially me if I’m sitting around deciding who needs to hear about it. President Kimball clearly said so. I am in just as much need of the lessons on repentance as the murderer or adulterer.

Elder Nelson spoke on this in the last April conference. He said, “While the Lord insists on our repentance, most people don’t feel such a compelling need. They include themselves among those who try to be good. They have no evil intent. Yet the Lord is clear in His message that all need to repent – not only from sins of commission but from sins of omission as well.” In true scholarly form, Elder Nelson broke down the word repentance from the Greek word that his disciples recorded the Lord’s words in. They used the verb metanoeo. There is much significance in that word. The prefix “meta” means “change.” The suffix relates to four important Greek terms: nouse, meaning “the mind.” Gnosis, meaning “knowledge” pneuma, meaning “spirit” and pnoe, meaning “breath.” Elder Nelson instructs, “Thus, when Jesus said, “repent,” He asked us to CHANGE - to change our mind, knowledge, and spirit - even our breath.

I came across a poem that left a deep impact on me as a late teen. I had it framed and hung it on my wall throughout college. It is called Autobiography in Five Short Chapters by Portia Nelson

AUTOBIOGRAPHY IN FIVE SHORT CHAPTERS
by Portia Nelson

I

I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk
I fall in.
I am lost ... I am helpless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes me forever to find a way out.

II

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I am in the same place
but, it isn't my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.

III

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in ... it's a habit.
my eyes are open
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.

IV

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

V

I walk down another street.

I remember gauging myself several times throughout those important street finding years. What street did I take? Am I in a hole? As I read it again today, I think it’s as easy to apply. How many of us get stuck vacillating between Chapters 3 and 4. We get used to our bad habits, even attached to them. Or we give them up, but still hover around, allowing a trip or a stumble back into the hole all too easy. I think the metaphor of a sidewalk or road as our path in life is a great visual. Would you chose to drive or walk down a newly resurfaced road or one gutted by potholes and divets. I just moved from Spokane, Washington where there isn’t much choice; the roads there are notoriously bad. The weird thing is, when you don’t have a choice, or don’t think you do, you get used to being jostled around. That’s just life. But when you get the chance to drive or walk down a different kind of road, say one that’s been repaved and notice how nice it is - how smooth, would you go back? The Lord’s pathway is completely smooth if we choose to take it. It's not free from trials - it's still a long walk - sometimes uphill, but it doesn't contain Satan's large potholes.



There is a well-known story about a well-known road. It is the story of Saul’s conversion on the Road to Damascus. Is there a better or more vivid example about the power of change - for the better - than the life of Saul?


Saul was a Jewish man - a Jewish leader, who believed he was doing the right thing when he persecuted the followers of Christ and those that joined His church. The apostles of Christ had realized that they needed help administering to the saints of the church and set apart seven men to aid them in the temporal affairs and missionary efforts and one of the chosen was a man named Stephen. Stephen was brought before the Sanhedrin on charges of blasphemy and testified and preached the gospel of Christ as well as reminding them of their own history - the miracles and the scandals. While listening, the people became so enraged that they stoned him to death. In Acts 7:58, it says, “And cast him out of the city, and stoned him: and the witnesses laid down their clothes at a young man’s feet, whose name was Saul.” In 8:1 it says, “And Saul was consenting unto his death.”


Considering what Saul’s beliefs and actions were at this time, it seems impossible that he could overcome what he obviously believed in his core. Saul does not strike me as the kind of man who is easily swayed by different opinion. He was a zealot. Yet, the Lord was not only willing to forgive him, but used Saul’s zeal to further progress his church.


Think for a moment the enormous change Saul had to make. As far as he knew, he was not making a transition from the leadership position he held in Jewish society to a leadership position in Christian society, but was giving up all the importance, status, position that he had attained. He submitted to baptism and joined the church, and far from being an independent authority from his personal vision, he was obedient to church authorities and the Savior.


Comparing Sauls’s mighty change to the poem about the five chapters, it might feel discouraging that Saul’s change seemed apparently effortless and instant. But that is also not so. While there isn’t any evidence that Saul, who now is known as Paul, ever wavered in his conversion, he wasn’t easily assimilated into the Christian church. He was well known as a persecutor and was not happily embraced by many Christians, particularly those who maybe blamed him for the death of Stephen. Wilfred Griggs, a professor of religion at BYU, wrote an article about Paul in the September 1975 Ensign and made several interesting points. It took him years to gain the trust of church members and to be fellowshipped. In acts 9:26 - 27, it talks of him returning to Jerusalem, three years after his conversion and struggling with acceptance. “And when Saul was come to Jerusalem, he assayed to join himself to the disciples: but they were all afraid of him, and believed not that he was a disciple. But Barnabas took him, and brought him to the apostles, and declared unto them how he had seen the Lord in the way, and that he had spoken to him, and how he had preached boldly at Damascus in the name of Jesus.”


Another point easily overlooked is the time it took Paul to be prepared for his missionary work that is detailed in the scriptures. According to professor Griggs, there is a nine-to-ten year period from Paul’s conversion until the time of his so-called first missionary journey. It was as necessary for Paul to mature and season in the gospel, grow and develop, as it is for the rest of us.


I wonder if Saul felt discouraged after his conversion. Boyd K. Packer said, “The discouraging idea that a mistake, or even a series of them, makes it everlastingly too late, does not come from the Lord. He has said that if we will repent, not only will He forgive us our transgressions, but He will forget them and remember our sins no more. Repentance is like soap; it can wash sin away, Ground-in dirt may take the strong detergent of discipline to get the stains out, but out they will come.


Paul is an excellent example of the mighty change spoken of by Alma in the Book of Mormon. President Ezra Taft Benson said, “When we have undergone this mighty change, which is brought about only through faith in Jesus Christ and through the workings of the spirit upon us, it is as though we have become a new person....you have forsaken lives of sin...and have become clean. You have no more desire to return to your old ways. You are, in reality, a new person.


While we might not all have to make as dramatic change as Paul did, each of us has room for change and growth. David O. McKay famously taught that the gospel of Jesus Christ can make bad men good and good men better, can alter human nature and change human lives.


If you are struggling with sin, you can change. If you are stagnant and treading water in the gospel, you can become better. We are all sons and daughter of God and our inheritance is all that He has. We have been put on this earth to learn how to become like him. Satan would have us be content with being mediocre or competent, or worse, to stall our progression with feelings of failure.


We will all experience some failures. We will all have times of mediocrity. We all have habits that may hinder us. But we can choose to change, to improve, to become phenomenal. With the help of the Lord, we can discover the streets without the pot-holes, the streets the Lord himself walked down, and become our best selves.

There you have it! I changed my mood music to a song that Jay felt drove my point home. He thought I should have worked the lyrics into my talk or simply broke out into song. I did neither, but thought you might enjoy it:)

Bookgroup Without the Book...or the Group

I was aware last night of an ongoing gathering taking place in a dreamland up north that I am no longer a part of. I felt a pang. Bookgroup each month with this extraordinary group of women was always a highlight and knowing that I was no longer a part of it (although...you never know. I could see me making a surprise guest appearance someday) left me feeling a bit melancholy.

Kelly called me to see if I wanted to eat Sushi with her and her son but I had already started dinner and when Jay walked in the door from work, and I was on the phone, there was popcorn all over the carpet (horrible, horrible idea for a snack) and all three boys were doing their best impersonation of the boy version of Veruca Salt (I want it now!), it wasn't exactly the best time to say, "See ya!" But after dinner, after dishes, after the boys transformed back into sane beings...I asked Jay if he minded if I went to visit Kelly one last time before she left town. He gave me his full blessing and I called and arranged to meet Kelly at Chili's so we could get the desserts that we had to cancel after our sushi-canceled-bad-tex-mex dinner.

Kelly filled the void. We stayed until we were too parched to talk anymore (our waitress stopped refilling our water glasses about an hour earlier). I feel so lucky that I have made this great friendship in the last few months. It was a great night. So comfortable, so funny. I left with a smile on my face. It was perfect.

Thanks Kelly This song is for you!

Over-doing It

First and foremost, let's just get the pictures out of the way. They have nothing to do with anything, other than being three of the most handsome boys ever to live on the earth (in my totally honest non-biased-at-all opinion).

I told him I wanted him to "look smart" but this kid is all about the good looks!

A farmer pirate. It works.

I get smiles if I don't wait for him to look at the camera.

But, this blog is getting a little black and white. I've scrolled down. I'm well aware. In fact, that is point one. I'm over doing the words. Trying to make necessary adjustments. I even toted my camera around with me all day, hoping for some genuine photo ops. I volunteered in Seth's classroom and in between doing a sad little reading assessment (couldn't even sound out "and") whipping out Spanish flashcards for a sweet little girl who has only lived in the states for four months and leading a guided reading for a group of five (all in the hallway) I never managed to have my camera with me. They were all cute, sweet kids too. I'm getting attached to Seth's class despite my reservations about it.

Jay and I have been asked to speak in church on Sunday. Of course, when the bishop asked us two weeks ago, it seemed light years away and an ample amount of time to come up with something well thought out and researched. Yet, here it is...Thursday, and I'm just feeling solid (well, kind of...I'm not really sure) of my topic of choice. We are supposed to base our talks on stories from the Bible. Um...I'm kind of bible ignorant and I don't think my primary class knowledge is going to go over really well. Remember, I'm still in make a good impression mode. So, I've got the talk to think about and write and it's my birthday on Saturday. I don't want to be thinking and writing a talk. I want to be thinking and hoping of my fabulous day that celebrates me! I love birthdays! This year, though, nothing is really sticking in my mind about what I would like to have happen and every woman knows if she doesn't plan her own birthday, she'll be disappointed. Well...women who LIKE birthdays. I really, really don't get not liking your birthday. You're older regardless, will probably get presents regardless, will probably get told Happy Birthday once or twice regardless. So enjoy it! Be happy you're on earth! I am. I would love to over-do my birthday, but that talk!!! I also have to play the organ on Sunday. If I could somehow manage to do the musical number, I could call it the Lucy-show! I may be over-doing it a bit in my ward.

Another thing, there is a scary message on my voice mail. Kelly A. told me I was laying it on a bit thick, and this is as thick as it gets! It's from that counselor in relief society. Here it is:

Hi Lucy, this is Becky, I've heard so many great things about you. I just wanted to call because we have an idea to have a Super Saturday on preparedness...making 72 hour kits. Give me a call. It's not a rush, or anything, but we thought maybe we could turn it into a ward activity. My numbers are.....

What does this mean? I hope....I pray...that this is due to my ward activities calling. It must be. How could I have been outed so soon? There were like 10 other ladies with their hands up last Sunday! It has to be because she wants it to be a ward activity. Except she didn't ask for Jay. And we are co-chairs ("co" Jay. You are not my boss!) Is this reminding anyone else of Becky Bloomwood? I don't really speak Finnish!

Lastly, I just read this article on Slate.com. I like the name of my blog, but I know no one gets it and that it doesn't make any sense. I've thought about changing it to something that really means something...but it's got history now. It's doomed for reason #3...but it's not really an inside joke. I'm willing to share! Read my first post!

Back to my talk...

Horseshoes and Hand grenades

Last week, the relief society president and a counselor came over to meet and visit me. Nice of them, I think. I was amiable and complimentary about their ward and when she asked me, "what do you like to do?", my mouth almost started from memory.

I enjoy singing and playing the piano, reading, traveling, spending time with my friends and family and being outdoors.

Instead, I had this impetuous thought and said it before I really knew better.

I told her that I liked to write.

It felt like such a sexy thing to say. I've certainly never said it before, never even really thought it before, but received that instant gratification that I must have known such a response would invoke.

Her eyebrows raised at my atypical response and interest flooded her face. What sorts of things did I write?

My fancy facade sort of fell apart as I responded so very eloquently, "Oh...nothing really exciting. Just thoughts and stuff about my day."

I don't know why I couldn't say the words, "I blog." Perhaps I was still caught up in feeling sexy and I don't think any word that rhymes with frog, smog, log, bog, dog...is.

So, we left it at that, her wondering at my fancy interpretation of journaling and me feeling a bit sheepish of categorizing myself with an arty and intellectual bunch. I quickly added my usuals and felt a lot more comfortable talking about music (which certainly is what got me roped into my last-minute accompanying gig).

Am I a writer?

If you quilt, are you a quilter? If you take pictures, are you a photographer? If you bake, are you a baker?

I blog. I know I'm a blogger. But I think I'd rather be a writer.

I've noticed more and more that my own response to the question, "Why do you blog?" or "What do you get from blogging?" is that I like the writing. I like the other stuff too. I love adding pictures (although I haven't done enough of it this week - sorry about all of the words again), the great way to keep in touch, the great way to reach out to new friends and the record...journal, if you will, of my days. If I had to pick one thing, though, I'd say I like the writing.

There is such a wide variety of blogs out there now. I don't really know where I fit.

I'm a blog mutt.

There are the mommy blogs, which I sort of have. I certainly include that part of my life almost daily. But I stop short of fully immersing myself into that genre, because one thing this blog has allowed me to do is separate myself from my motherhood. I've remembered who I am - independent of my kids...or my husband. I've remembered that there are stories to be told that don't involve them. That sounds selfish, but for someone who loves being a mom, loves her kids and staying home with them (I wouldn't change it for the world), but who also struggles because it's not a natural gift or joy or even something I feel I'm particularly good at - it reminds me that I still have value. Maybe even the attempt to separate is part of a mommy blog, though. Don't count me out of that one, I guess.

There are the journaling blogs. I certainly fall into this category. Plenty of my posts walk you through my day. But I can't do it every day. Updates are nice, but no one needs to know how many gallons of gas I put into the van yesterday (well, if you must know...it was 11.4). Plus, I don't want everyone knowing what I do everyday. A girl needs some mysteries. Wouldn't you like to know what I did yesterday? Too bad. I like this category. This is my ultimate purpose, really, in keeping a blog. To print it into a book and have the permanent record.

There are the skill blogs. I don't even hug the atmosphere of these kinds of blogs. No recipes, how-to's, creative ideas or showcase of my talent. I do sigh when I read these, though. Wouldn't it be nice? Then I usually click to another blog.

There are the inspirational blogs. The ones that encourage, inspire...make you feel. From weight loss or nature to religious beliefs, I've read a few of these and I just can't do it. I'm too selfish. My daily purpose can't be helping others when it's my own therapy. Besides, I'm hesitant to share sacred things. I think and feel them, but I'm much too irreverent to give them justice by writing them down. They stay where they are safe, in my heart and my head.

There are the fitness blogs (curse you, fit people!), product review blogs (I have to really like something to pimp their paraphernalia for free), pop culture blogs (I never have any insider information on shows - and rarely a strong enough opinion to devote a post to one).

The blog that has me feeling the most left out and untalented are the intellectual/writer's blogs. You know, people who have actually taken classes and have been trained to write. Not people who simply tell their relief society president that they do (and...unintentionally cook with my food storage. Who am I trying to be?????) My friend, Andrea, sent me a link to one last week, and I really enjoyed it. Sharp writing, clever insights and such an interesting way to express something. I loved it and when I read it, thought, "I want to write like that!" but I don't come close. And they say close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.

But if you're a mutt, maybe it can count in blogland too. I'd like to think so.

Funnies

Really, nothing happened today, I still have no pictures and not much to say and yet here I am:) Without any pictures, though, I'll keep it short and sweet.

Yesterday, in church, the counselor conducting asked a question. She started by saying that she had gone camping with one of her friends and her friend was just...so....into it. You can tell she's not much of a camper by the way she described the enthusiasm of her friend's love of cool tents, water filtration, dutch ovens and camping gadgets with an incredulous awe. Then she asked if any of us were like that - women who liked to camp. I raised my hand...but then she went on. After the word camp, she followed with words like - cook with food storage, can, implement the tools of provident living. I should have taken my arm down because only the camping part is true but I left it up like the kids in primary who keep their arm raised when it's the spotlight and the clue given is that the spotlight has three sisters and that particular child has two brothers. Then, she told the women in Relief Society to look around and use "these sisters" and their love of provident living if you are interested in learning more about provident living. If anyone calls me, I hope they want to go to Zions!:)

Today, I had to find a Post Office to mail something for Jay. I looked up online where the closest one to me was and set off to find it after I picked Seth up from school. I didn't write down the address but had the main street and thought I would notice it when we drove by. I certainly never saw it and before I knew it, we were several miles off target. I knew there was one over by my sister-in-law in the next township (what do you call the suburbs?) so kept driving further and further away to get there. On our way, we drove by a golf course. On our way back, after passing the golf course again, a lights-and-sirens ambulance and fire truck came barreling down the road. We pulled over and the boys asked me where they were going.

I replied that I didn't know but it must be an emergency.

Sammy responded, "Maybe somebody lost a golf ball."

I'm sure that is an emergency in someone's book.

And here's a final happy thought courtesy of Dwight Schrute:

I don't believe in coddling people. In the wild, there is no health care. In the wild, health care is, "Ow, I hurt my leg. I can't run, a lion eats me and I'm dead!". Well, I'm not dead. I'm the lion. You're dead!

When does The Office start again?

Heigh-Ho, Heigh-Ho...it's off to work he goes...

My dear man is sick. Really sick. Now normally, I'm unsympathetic to male illness with the best of them. There seems to be very few things as inconvenient and irritating as a sick husband. If you happen to be my husband, you also save your very sickest self for the weekend. Silver lining....he has a good work ethic. VERY rarely misses work. Really...such a plus and hardly a thing to complain about. Can you imagine if I had to kick him out the door every morning?

However, beginning on Tuesday, he had a stomach upset. He was convinced he contaminated his pure belly with gluten, yet I was convinced our house wasn't the source. That evening, he suffered from fever and chills and the pain in his gut. I was shocked and flabbergasted when I rolled over at 6:30 to see him decked out in his nicely pressed blue dress shirt (the nice pressing is his own handy work. I have abdicated the iron.) and sharp black dress pants. Perhaps I should swallow a few of his work ethic pills, because in my book of rules, a fever equals a day off from work. Legitimately so. No...."I have a headache" or "I just don't feel well". A fever is honest-to-goodness proof that the body is fighting infection.

Apparently, his 4:00 am Tylenol dose masked his discomfort and off he went. Of course, he came home feeling totally lousy and was wiped out the rest of the evening.

Wednesday night...same thing. Fever and chills the entire night and yet Thursday morning, it was a khaki button-down and blue dockers.

Thursday night, the fever seemed to go away but here came the sore throat. The fathers/sons camp-out was scheduled for Friday night and Jay mentioned that he should pack that night. I wondered aloud if he should go and he replied that he had promised the boys. He fell asleep early, however, and went to bed without packing. I happen to know a few things and that night, I knew that the camping was highly unlikely to happen. The body can only take so much and heading off to the mountains to set up a tent with men and kids he doesn't know isn't really Jay's cup of tea. I thought perhaps Friday might be the sick day but my man, apparently, must work. Friday morning was no different from the rest. Up and at 'em in a dark blue top and black pants.

Camping didn't happen (the kids never knew the difference) and I snuck out that evening to hang out with Kelly, as I mentioned previously.

Saturday, he continued to fight off whatever nasty bug invaded his body, and I tried to keep the boys out of his hair so that he could rest. Part of me wanted to be annoyed at the loss of extra help and my partner in crime, but the larger part of me honestly felt bad that he still felt so yucky. I was out several nights this last week and felt awful that I had to tell him that I had plans for Saturday night as well. My sister Sarah, had given me her ticket to go see the musical Mamma Mia with her friend's family and since I can't seem to get enough of hanging out with people I hardly know, I committed myself to going.

Jay just sighed and waved good-bye. Even I admit that my taking off in the evenings and leaving him at home is becoming a too-familiar scene. Our boys behaved nobly and apparently acted from memory of the many nights they had to put themselves to bed when I was pregnant with Henry. Jay was impressed and I fear he may have exposed my big secret! Our boys are actually angelic and quite easy. There goes my excuse for not getting anything done.

The musical was awesome. Not musically awesome, because some of the performers weren't very good. I'm always confounded when they aren't great because isn't that a competitive field? Maybe ABBA is really hard to sing but I wasn't super impressed with Sophie. Donna was alright. Sam...good but hilarious to watch. He couldn't sing without dramatic head snaps and chest heaving. Skye was plain awful. It didn't matter. Listening to familiar ABBA all night in a funny play with some great costumes was a great way to spend the evening. Sarah's friend's family was quite good company too.

When I got home, there was a piece of music someone had dropped off for a musical number in Relief Society today. She had called earlier in the afternoon to see if I could be a substitute accompanist but hadn't shown up by the time I left. I wish I could have looked at it but it was almost midnight and I had to respect the shared walls. I woke up this morning and discovered that the accompaniment wasn't very easy. Lots of accidentals and big chord progressions.

Not wanting my musical debut in this ward to be dismal, I came home in between Sacrament Meeting and Relief Society. Jay had finally succumbed to his illness and lay asleep in our bed, wiped out with a fever and headache and cough. I put Henry down for a nap, told Jay that he was there, and went and practiced for a half hour. It worked and I didn't suck. I must mention an interesting tidbit of information. The owner of this townhouse lives in another townhouse in the same building complex so is also in the same ward. During the good news minute, the counselor conducting noticed her smiling and asked her if she had anything to share. She replied, "Not really. I just feel good. My health is good and has been ever since I've lived in my new place the last four months."

She lived where we live. Her health was not good. Hmmmmm.

The weekend is over. I wonder what color of pants Jay will be wearing tomorrow?

A Big Fat No-No

A couple of weeks ago, I did this list of five things where one of the lists was what I would do if I was a millionaire. One response was that I'd buy a new camera - not because I needed one but because I wanted a better one. I'm changing that answer...I think I officially need a new one now. My camera has been going through batteries like Lindsay Lohan goes through rehab. So, I don't have any pictures to add to this post (*gasp*). After reading the responses Jill posted that were filled out by blog party attendees, I hesitate to even dare write a post without accompanying pictures, due to the universal dislike of such offerings. Alas, I have no pictures, but do have words, so words it is....for now.

There's been trouble in River City. The last two weeks, I've met quite a few new people. No...not new, just people I haven't spoken to face to face before. I think for the internet wary, or just people with different tastes, the thought of meeting up for lunch or whatever with someone whose blog you've read or heard of is very odd behavior. I've been getting a lot of ridicule and snarky comments about these meetings which has put me on the defensive. I'm thirty-one years old, for crying out loud, and I think I have a pretty good head on my shoulders, not to mention enough weight that it would be pretty tricky to throw me in a trunk. I realize Dateline has revealed the dangers of internet predators and stalkers and I'm aware of the potential risk. I don't go just all wily-nily. Meetings with Jill have been well documented, by people with good reputations, so I knew she wasn't a fake and that her blog party wasn't really a masquerade of blood-sucking goths. I had Dinner with Dana, who I had actually been in a married BYU ward years before. I had lunch with Denise, who Dana knows and could vouch for her. And Kelly, well...it just wasn't possible for her to be weird. In fact, when I first "met" her, it really was like seeing an old friend.

So the comments like, "going to meet your little blogger friends" or even the raised eyebrows and eye-rolls have me bristling. I admit that a year ago, I might have been on the side of the comment makers. My sister Emily has long been comfortable meeting people from message boards or things like it, and, yes, I thought it was weird. Maybe she felt defensive too. If so, I apologize. Maybe my own former feelings have me feeling defensive when there's not even opposition. I might be imagining the eye-rolling and smirks. But, in my imagination or for real, there's just been so much static that I haven't been able to relax and simply enjoy these meetings.

Regardless, I met up with Kelly and her kids yesterday at the children's museum and then she came over to swim. The children's museum was hard, because it was crazy busy and impossible to talk but the swimming was delightful. Kids were happy, contained and entertained, and we soaked up the sun in lawn chairs. She's awesome and exactly like I already knew her to be. Later, she left and fed her clan and I fed mine and then we met up again and went downtown for dinner without kids. The food wasn't great, but the company was and I spent the next couple of hours laughing at her antics. Then we went back to her parent's house and giggled and enjoyed talking into the late, late hours like girlfriends like to do. Nothing weird at all about it. I wish I had pictures to document the total normalcy of our outings. Again, it is unlucky that my camera fell off the wagon and downed all of its juice.

The thing is, I'm not online dating - trying out these bloggers looking for my new best friend. I actually feel bad for people who do online date...they must hear crap from everyone. But, I think it's a legitimate way to connect with people and I don't really think it's all that more risky than meeting someone in a more traditional way. I've had plenty of bad experiences with psycho friends that I've met in a perfectly respectable sphere. Classes at BYU (scary female stalker), roommates at BYU (depression, food-stealing, musical belting), and in wards. I do have common sense and can use is appropriately. I am not a freak. At least not for this reason.

Five Questions, Five Answers, Starting Now

Amber from Soggy Cheerios tagged me on this one...

1. What is your favorite meal to make for your family?

Hmmm...that means I must cook something. I think my favorite meal, based purely on the positive feedback, is meatloaf. My kids LOVE it. I used to make the one that was on the Lipton Onion Soup Box and chortled while Seth and Sam tried to figure out what the "secret" ingredient was but found a gluten-free recipe last week that worked out pretty well. I can't say it's my favorite thing to eat, but it's easy, filling, and everyone likes it. I'm all about positive feedback/words of affirmation. Then I feel loved.

2. What is your least favorite chore?

Another tricky one. I don't know how to rank these three, because at times each one seem like it will be a required activity in Hades itself, but on a hot day, with three kids in tow - shopping at Wal-Mart probably beats all. The loading of the cart, the crowds and cleanliness, the scolding of kids for pulling the cart in different directions, the reloading onto the black conveyor belt which is too small to fit the massive amounts of groceries I somehow felt I needed (it's only because I don't want to have to come back anytime soon), the re-loading them back into the cart, the unloading into the car, and the re-loading back into my kitchen. I hate it. I have recently discovered a healthy alternative, though. Harmons. Truly - the friendly grocers. Equally tied at the bottom can be making the bunk beds (not easy for a full-size girl), or cleaning out the fridge. It usually involves some gagging.

Why do you blog?

Many reasons come to mind. Journaling. Thinking. Putting form to my thoughts. Getting to show my humor that my kids don't get or appreciate. And, I suppose if I'm being honest, because it's given me some worth, of late. Sort of validates that I have something to offer when I hear that someone...anyone...enjoyed something I wrote.

What is your favorite computer/board game?

Favorite computer game is super text twist. I haven't played it in awhile and I don't even know if it's on this computer, but I am pretty good at it. I actually don't play many games on the computer. We downloaded Settlers of Catan which is always good for some entertainment if I'm desperate. My favorite board game is probably trivial pursuit, although I love any kind of trivia game. Cranium, Family Feud, Catch Phrase, Scattergories. I really like most games. Except Monopoly. I have had some bad experiences with that one.

If you could live anywhere comfortably (job/salary/cost of living not relevant) where would you live and why?

Ooooh, I love questions like this. I'm going to adapt it to my favorite question in the world when I ask my five. I want to live in a smaller town. Not pokey, but smaller so that we can get involved in the community and church and invest and be invested in. Sort of like my preferences to small gatherings over big parties. I want to know who I live with, but still have the necessary variety to be interesting. I want to live in the west - with good weather and seasons. I want to live in the mountains and I want to be close to a lake. I want to be in a place that has a decent economy so that the downtown shops aren't vacant and there is a place where pedestrians like to gather and mingle. Definitely some place that has a decent base of good music - a symphony or community chorale. I'd like restaurateurs to be interested in establishing a unique, affordable restaurant there too. Nothing too fancy and pretty, but something more than Applebees. I want people to want to come visit me, because the surrounding area offers a lot to do and see. And I want my kids to have the opportunities for friendship and exploration.


Answer the same five questions in the comments or do them on your own blog!

Thanks Amber! Now I'm supposed to think of five questions for five people...

1. If you could change one part of your body, what would it be?

2. How much money do you think you need to make to be "really comfortable?" (Think annual salary).

3. What is your greatest God-given talent?

4. Winter Olympics or Summer Olympics?

5. My twist on the #5 question above - If you could have any career, and you were GUARANTEED success (no tests to get in, no auditions, no worrying about daycare, or money or time) what would you do?

I tag:

1. Barb

2. Tara

3. Carolyn

4. Lei

5. Chloe

A Good Day

Yesterday had all of the ingredients for goodness. Some free time, a few phone calls, an outing, good honest hard work, water frolicking and some spirituality. Here's the breakdown:

I was pretty lazy in the morning. I added a bunch of blogs to my sidebar, mostly people I met this weekend and I'm loving having some new connections. I think my favorite thing about all of those girls is that they blog! Updates and all:) It's always fun to have something to read from some you you know (even if it's only kind of).

I got to talk on the phone to Kelly A. We get to meet for the first time this week, even though it feels much more like it will be reconnecting with an old same. She called to see if I wanted some nice hand-me-downs of Jack's. Heck ya! I'm so used to doing a clothes swap with Jen that even her asking felt all sisterly...just like I knew she would be. Maybe you think it's odd, but she's got good taste and, I don't have to worry about getting them back to her. Plus, according to Jack Johnson, I need to Reduce, Reuse and Recycle (listen to the mood music on the top of my sidebar). I'm just doing my part! Kelly is so awesome. Last week, before she left on her trip, she sent me a card following my woe-is-me post and some really fun work-out DVDs. I'm sure she's only giving them to me because she's memorized all of the moves herself so I hope she brings her jazz shoes:)

I want to be like this...

I think this may have been made just for me!

Later in the afternoon, I tackled the beast - the garage. Jay actually did 90% of it on Saturday, but I finished up clearing out the half of our garage that was "the-pile-we-didn't-know-what-to-do-with" so that he could park his new/used car in. It's not new - but it's pretty nice and as part of the sale, the dealer had it detailed yesterday. That was my motivation and I finished just in time.

Before that, I decided to drive downtown with Sam and Henry and joined the Discovery at Gateway. What a great place for kids! I had a moment when my former self, the mom that delighted taking her kids out and about, took over and my eyes actually teared up watching Sam busily transport balls back and forth from this tubular structure. He was so intent on seeing where they went. Henry was marching in place at the top of the platform, so happy to have the freedom to go wherever he wanted to go...for once. I smiled to myself while I watched their happy play. Then life returned to normal as Henry started throwing things everywhere and running away and I lost Sam a few times. But at least I had the moment. I will take it as a sign of things to come:)

We all went swimming afterwards. The pool here is our back yard. It's where we have to go when the inside needs a break. I'm so glad we are living here and have this great pool where the boys can splash and make the messes they seem genetically engineered to make without any retribution.

Jay came home and made hotdogs for everyone and Sarah watched our kids and put them to bed while Jay and I went to the temple. It's been awhile since either of us have done a session in a large temple, and I had kind of forgotten how big they really are. Like you actually need those ladies pointing and directing you to a locker. And the escalators! Nothing says business like escalators! It was a wonderful evening and a lovely date with Jay. We even took his shining car with it's speedy transmission, rolled down the windows and opened the sunroof and got some sonic cream slushies afterwards.

So Beautiful

See? A good day.

Book Review #11 - The Tenth Circle

I know I am supposed to be reading The Hiding Place. But first Harry Potter distracted me and then on a whim I bought this at Sam's Club looking for a less emotional read.

But, if you've ever read Jodi Piccoult, she is all about the emotional. In fact, this being the third book I've read of hers, I'm beginning to think she's overly emotional.

The Tenth Circle is cleverly written. The main narrator is Daniel Stone, a comic book writer and artist who is working on a new series based on his life and his wife's life study of Dante's Inferno. In Dante's Inferno, there are nine circles of hell. In this story, and in the comic book pages that begins each chapter as a parallel story to Daniel's real life, the hero (or heroes) discover that there is actually a tenth circle of hell. I'll let you discover what the tenth circle is if you are so inclined to read this.

The book is well written and the characters adequately developed. Daniel is a reformed troubled youth with a mysterious history he doesn't talk about with his wife and daughter, who completely turned his life around to be a stay-at-home father to Trixie. His fatherhood is his alter ego. His wife fell in love with the bad boy and then gets bored after years of his cleaned-up act and has an affair with one of her students taking her Dante class. And Trixie, their teenage daughter, somehow becomes one messed up chica over a boy who breaks up with her.

The story lost me with all three character's extreme behavior. It just wasn't believable. Trixie is date raped by her ex-boyfriend. This part of the story was unbelievably real and I thought had the makings of a great, complicated debate on teenage sex. But the author didn't follow through. Her absolute defense of Trixie (who didn't want to have sex, but didn't say no because she was drunk and high but she tried to push him off - he didn't get the message because he was drunk and high and used to having sex with her because they had been active for several months beforehand) of accusing her ex-boyfriend of rape and the rage and upset it cost him, their friends, his family, the school, the community and ultimately her own family, was never questioned.

I thought a more appropriate argument could be made for the emotional and psychological repercussions of teenage sex. It's not just that they can, or do, but if they should. Trixie, a fourteen year old who become obsessed by her "love" for her first boyfriend, becomes almost suicidal after their break-up. She makes really poor decisions afterwards, including dressing provocatively in an effort to win him back, and some dangerous, reckless behavior at a party that ultimately broke her. Her parents made equally bad decisions in their handling of their daughter before and after. But again, that wasn't really Piccoult's point. Ultimately, she didn't really have one except that Trixie's father would go to whatever depths of hell to avenge his daughter. Kind of over-the-top, I think. I'm not belittling the devastating effects of date-rape. But the line was so, so blurry here, that there had to be a discussion of that very line. I think Piccoult got caught up in her clever idea of weaving in a comic strip and her Dante angle and missed the bigger picture.

She's done it before. I enjoyed My Sister's Keeper but thought Vanishing Acts missed the point by a long shot. It's as if she does all of this research (sister's keeper is about Genetic tampering and Vanishing Acts is about the prison system) and writes the research no matter where the story takes her. She worked it out with My Sister's Keeper but didn't do justice for Dante, comic books or the paramount subject of date-rape in this story.

It's a shame because she's a good writer. But, I'm ready for her to write about something other than a teenage girl's drama.

The Tour d'Luciville

This is mostly for my family and friends back home who have wanted to see my new home. And, I suppose, for the little voyeur in the rest of you:)

I have never pretended to possess any style or knack for decor. But, once you add all the factors together (white walls without license to paint, different floor plan where old decorations no longer work and a one-year time line...so why go buy new things that go) and the result even worse than what I can normally come up with. It is a pretty bland environment. I'll probably add a few more things to the walls but not that much. What's the point? Oh...a welcoming and inviting environment to exist in? Yeah, that would be nice, I guess. Next year.

I like it although it is not without its flaws. Like the dining room at the bottom of the stairs that blocks one of the entrances to the kitchen. Or ALL OF THE CARPET!!! Carpet in eating areas is only appropriate if you happen to be 75 with no chance of kids coming over. We've lived here a month and the carpet has already been dosed with boiling water (a surefire way to get stains out) to get out an orange juice spill, several milk spills, red jello that Henry some how got a hold of and used as play-doh, and jedi juice (a recipe from the blogger cookbook - fabulous!) I hate it.

But mostly I like the place. It's newer and everything works, especially the A/C (except for the one day it did not but thankfully Jay did not panic like I did and managed to change the filter, unfreeze the pipe and get us cold again). I even like my oval garden tub without any kind of curtain to close and the completely clear glass shower that overexposes both of us. Thankfully, there are no secrets anymore.

Here it is! Our little abode for the next year:

This is the view from the front door. There is a little tiled entry way with the piano room (messy picture in post from yesterday) to the left and the living room, which is separated by a half wall to the right. ( I realize that mirror is ridiculously small for that wall, but it's what I have.)

This is the half bath right next to the door from the garage. Now that I'm looking at it, that decorative piece needs to come down a foot. Rebecca! Help!

The view coming in from the garage. From the dining room.

Taken from the bottom of the stairs looking to living room.

The living room with a few escapee puzzle pieces.

At the top of the stairs is the main bathroom.

Turn around in the hallway and there is where I sit at this very minute.

Next to the computer area is the spare room and...

the laundry room. No more walking through a closet to get to the laundry for me!

Seth and Sam's room is in the middle of the three bedrooms. Henry is now in a portacrib in the spare bedroom. He was originally in our master closet. The bedrooms get pretty light.

Our master bedroom. It's very spacious and stark.

The hallway to the master bath. I will not design a master room this way. I hate that if Jay gets up early then there is light in the room. There needs to be a door or sharper corner or something.

My reading room:) Nothing like a good book in a hot bath. There's a little private toilet room with a door to the right of the shower. I love that idea. Even though that barrier has been broken long ago, it's still nice to have some privacy when you gotta go!

Oh... that's it. I don't really want to end this with any visions of using the actual toilet so let me think of something else. Oh wait..

Here's our little yard. There is no gate or shed so I have no idea what the previous occupant did to mow this little patch of grass. You'd have to wheel the mower through the house if you kept it in the garage! Jay just weed whacked it. I guess that's what we'll keep doing even though I think it permanently messed up his shoulder. The rose bushes up top are nice to look at but growing all sorts of out of control. What am I supposed to do with them?????

There you have it! I hope you had a nice time. Did you notice the spare room? We're willing if you're able!

When Bloggers Get Together...

You know how there are days when you feel like meeting new people and days when you absolutely do not? Yesterday was THE day of all days to feel up to meeting new people (well...except for perhaps that first day of freshman orientation at BYU when you get put into a "Y Group" and your willingness to pass oranges from neck to neck can make or break your week) and I....was....a....grump! Jay was gone pretty much all day looking for a new car. The truck has been acting strangely at times, not to mention burning a hole in our pockets keeping it full of gas, so we decided to lose the truck and gain a commuter car. I printed out a list of cars for Jay to go look at and off he went. For about 20 minutes. Then he came back with a little black cloud over his head and some black on his hands and clothes. Flat tire. On a highway.

After some convincing that it wasn't really optional, he went back out into the big, bad, car-shopping world and I resumed Saturday chores. I was on a roll and got all the bedding washed and changed, all the laundry done, folded, AND put away, the three bathrooms cleaned and the upstairs vacuumed. Then I came downstairs and my efforts there from the night before had been undone by a day of playing boys. Which I need to realize is their job and not get so offended by it.

Sigh

I honestly think I was stressed at the thought of going to a party full of relative strangers and those nerves and Jay being gone all day and my dislike of housework created the perfect storm. Jay called me to tell me he bought a car! And I kind of crushed his excitement by telling him I needed to get in the shower.

If I was a flake, which I pray I'm not although I have flaky moments, I probably would have skipped out. Driving down I wished I had done more homework and found out who was going so that I could have read their blogs and had some clue as to what to talk to them about. When I pulled into the parking lot, I saw a group of girls and wondered if they were going to the blog party. Instead of asking if their gifts and food were heading in the same direction, I avoided eye-contact and walked into the building alone.

There was the sign. Blog Party - Room 316. This was it. I was officially going.

Up on the third floor, I entered a rather dark room with wood floors that was filled with women, nicely wrapped gifts, some balloons and flowers and surprisingly comfortable chairs. I immediately saw Jill, who I recognized and my mood snapped. I was genuinely very glad to meet her. She was very friendly, someone came over to us and grabbed the pink-frosted Sam's Club cookies I brought (bookgroup gals, I haven't changed at all. I meant to make something delectable and pretend that it was the sort of thing I whipped up all the time but, once again, a store came to my rescue) and I picked up a clipboard with questions about my blog preferences and opinions. Dana was there and I headed to sit near a familiar face.

Amy M. and Dana

I looked around and was surprised that no one seemed familiar. I thought from reading comments on other blogs, or the memory from the time I had read their blog (because I swear I've at least looked at most people's blogs) I would sense familiarity around me but I really felt like I was in a room full of complete strangers. Jill encouraged us to get some food so I went to the food table and picked out some goodies (not those puffy pink cookies though). As I was eating, I recognized Annalisa and she came over to sit next to Dana and me. She's happy and enthusiastic and it was great to put a live personality on another blogger whose blog I read.

Me and Annalisa

She came with two of her sisters, Crystalyn and Laralee, who I met and thought were friendly and fun.

Jana, Annalisa and Hannah

I won a door prize - and I wasn't too proud to snatch the fudge!

Rachel came over because Dana was her friendly face too and I remembered that she was Donna's sister-in-law (her brother is Donna's husband - Donna and Ryan are good friends with Jen and Christopher). Rachel is this impossibly small person with a really great personality. Very friendly and open, it was naturally easy to become friends with her.

Rachel and me

When I had finished eating and walking back from getting a Diet Pepsi, I recognized Allison, who I knew was a good friend of Jenny. I knew we had the medical school/residency journey in common and we talked about that and her perseverance in the south.

Allison and me.

Crystalyn was next to us and soon we were talking about our RSV scares with our babies. Really, having an infant in the ICU is a bond.

At that point, Jill started the introductions and went around the circle of chairs individually describing each attendee. I did great until about the last ten people whose names I probably still couldn't get right. But Jill knew everyone. Not just their names but about them. It was fun to catch her subtle humor when she was introducing someone she was good friends with. Like her friend Amie or Claudia or Michelle - you can tell she truly loves her friends.

Jill introducing Jenn or Allison

Jill introducing Collette and Lindsay

After introductions, we were given a number to go find a present. We all opened them at the same time, but then went around the room again and showed what we had received and thanked whoever brought it.

Rachel got a very cute gift from Amy M.

I'd have to say, people went all out making their gifts personal and cute. So many address books, notebooks, cards and stickers and journals. I brought a frame and no, I didn't make it. I was kind of embarrassed about my gift and was mortified when I saw Claudia walking back to her chair, which happened to be right next to mine, with the gift I brought. She, in her fetching white linen outfit with strappy espadrilles sandals and sparkly jewelry just seemed to deserve something MORE. I didn't admit for awhile that I brought it and she even seemed fine with it.

I got one of the most crafty gifts offered that night, which, if you know me, is hugely ironic.

Look Out! Lucy is going to to get out scissors!

Chloe gave me paper, which I know what to do with, and markers, again I know what for....to write with I presume, and some letter stickers which are obviously to be used to identify things or used at titles. The only things that completely bewilder me are the felt cut-outs that came in a bottle. Do I glue them to something? Don't they only stick onto other felt things? Is it to be used in some sort of Family Home Evening?

Huh?

After gifts, we huddled for a group photo. By now, everyone seemed comfortable and relaxed and it was a good time for photo ops. That is when I took most of the pictures you see here but unfortunately, relaxed and comfortable doesn't mean that blush and mascara are still looking good. What can I say...it was four hours later!

Dana and me

I was about to leave but hadn't met someone I had really wanted to meet. I sort of forced myself onto Amy M. whose photography I am in awe of and whose thoughts and perspectives I truly enjoy reading. She was extremely nice, humble and oddly unaware of her massive talent.

Crystalyn, Amy M. and me

I didn't meet everyone. No one really knew who I was, since I don't have a picture of me as part of my profile and don't have my blog linked to my profile. If they were in doubt as to my identity, I pulled my Jenny card and that seemed to appease anyone. I know Jenny. In real life. At blog parties, that will get you far.

I wish my Spokane blog posse could have been there. Andrea and Kristin, you were especially missed because I know you both would have loved it. And I don't wish you were there so that you could have shielded me from the awkwardness of making new friends, but it would have been fun to enjoy this all with you. You were there in spirit and if there is ever another one, I expect you to be there! There were lots of other bloggers I wish would have been there. I can see the temptation in organizing one. Inviting all the people you want to meet in your particular blog arena. Maybe someday when I have a yard and the money to lure everyone with fancy soda and crackers!

Overall, I believe bloggers are a great group of people. Open, giving and friendly....the kind of people you want to know. I think my favorite part of the evening was finding out how everyone started blogging. Talk about six degrees of separation!. Jill was definitely Kevin Bacon last night as most blogs stemmed from her. So, thanks Jill, for your gracious hostessing and open arms. I had a lot of fun.

THE blog-girl, Jill!