Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Eleven

Happy Anniversary to my favorite person in the world! We're celebrating eleven years of mostly bliss today and I wanted to share eleven things that make Jay the perfect guy for me.

  1. When I look at him sitting with our boys at church, while I'm at the organ, he always has the situation under control. He's a whiz at fatherhood and our boys have the best father in the world.
  2. He puts his cold feet on my hot feet when we go to bed. I pretend like I'm doing him a favor, but I secretly love it. It's like hitting the cool side of the pillow for my feet!
  3. He lets me think I'm in charge.
  4. His favorite sound is hearing me laugh, so you should see some of the stuff he does to accomplish that fact.
  5. He respects my opinion, even if it's different from his own.
  6. He works very hard at what he does, in order to be successful for our family's future.
  7. He knows a thing or two about lots of different stuff. It makes conversations a lot of fun.
  8. We love to sing "Come What May" from the Moulin Rouge Soundtrack in harmony. He's Ewan McGregor and I'm Nicole Kidman (only we sound slightly better, in my humble opinion) and we unabashedly belt out our parts. When we finish the song, we always have that sparkle in our eyes and a smile on our lips. It's a great song!
  9. He makes me feel beautiful.
  10. He always backs up my efforts and rules with parenting our children. I love that he respects what I do.
  11. He consistently honors the covenants we made together in the temple eleven years ago today. And I know he always will.
Anniversaries feel like a second Thanksgiving to me. I spend the day in gratitude for the blessing Jay is in my life. He is my best friend, my best time, my favorite thing.

Jay is really into lyrics. He feels them. So, here are some lyrics from a song I enjoy that make me think of him:

The Way I Am by Ingrid Michaelson

If you were falling, then I would catch you.
You need a light, I'd find a match.
Cuz I love the way you say good morning.

And you take me the way I am.

If you are chilly, here take my sweater.
Your head is aching, I'll make it better.
Cuz I love the way you call me baby.
And you take me the way I am.

I'd buy you Rogaine when you start losing all your hair.
Sew on patches to all you tear.

Cuz I love you more than I could ever promise.

And you take me the way I am.

You take me the way I am.
You take me the way I am.

If you want the full story of how "we" came to be, I wrote our story last year. And, back in the day when our family was a two blog family, Jay put together this little ditty and posted it on his own blog. As his blog no longer is, I moved his effort here. I don't know how to edit the slide show, so I'll just post a few more pictures from the last year below.










Next year's goals? Take some better pictures together!

Happy Anniversary Love! You are the best.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Talking Points or Turning Points

October 2007. That was the month I vowed would be my "turning point". In more ways than one, I made different goals to become better. Yes, I made jokes about me becoming perfect, but I do realize that it won't happen through my own efforts. Or while I'm on earth. Just so no one thinks I'm missing the big picture.

So, not perfect but better. I should be able to do that. I mean, the possibilities for improvements are pretty much endless.

I can't say all that much has changed since October, however. I feel this has somehow happened before. This desire to change followed by none. I say all the right things, but don't do all the right things. I want to scream out in frustration, but the only way I can communicate that through the written word is by caps and exclamation points.

So...

AAAAARRRRGGGGGHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hmm...I also realized I can make the text larger, put it in bold and change the color. Of course, now, I can't get back to my original colored text but I'll spare you another one of my beastly yells.

Today, I did it. I accomplished my essentials. I feel good. I feel accomplished. I feel like I can make fudge with my kids without major regret, get my college body back, teach gospel doctrine to a room full of former bishops and run for president. I can visit teach today, get my car washed and filled up with gas, make a delicious dinner and get to the post office. O.K...that might be stretching it, but I feel that good.

The trouble is...I know myself and know that I am full of moods. Full of "can do"s and "what's the point"s that battle back and forth several times a day. As a result, I hang out here in comfortable limbo land, not completely sucking...but not being the person I want to be either.

Yeah, yeah, yeah...I know...take it day by day, one step at a time, believe in myself, reach for the stars, I'm the wind beneath my wings....I get it. Right now. How do I get "it" more often, though? How can this day, this day that if followed by another one, and another one, and another one would surely produce the kind of human being I want to be, become my norm rather than my extraordinary.

I don't have the answers. Do you?

If so, please share them. Unless they are totally obnoxious. Remember, I'm moody.

Spiritual: Alma 30-32

Nurturing: Reading lesson with Sam. played catch with Henry. Ion with Sam (although...it totally backfired...so maybe that doesn't count).

Work: 3 loads laundry, made beds, kitchen dishes.

Physical: BW+, Zumba beginner, Callenetics crunches, two full body push ups (that's all there's strength for. Sad...but I'm working on it!)

Monday, December 17, 2007

Great Events In History

I cannot sleep with the light on. I blame it the sleeping conditions of my youth. We slept in a basement with tiny little windows and my dad turned the heat down to the mid 50s each night. The result was a cool, dark and relatively quiet sleeping environment.

While an argument could be made that no mother ever sleeps "well", if I can't duplicate, as close as possible, those primitive sleeping quarters in my current life, I don't sleep well.

Too hot? Misery.

Outside noise? My body swells with inner rage against the noise makers.

Light? I toss and I turn and I toss and I turn. Until the light goes off.

It's unfortunate, because Jay likes to read before he goes to sleep. Never for very long. I've learned to be relatively patient with him because I know that soon, blessed darkness will come.

The trouble arises when it's me who wants to read.

Jay has assured me numerous times, that he has no problem with me reading and I should feel free to continue reading for as long as I like. But, because I transfer my own internal feelings onto anyone else I meet, I assume that really, deep down, he's lying there with his eyes closed trying to be patient.

Recently, my fears have been somewhat confirmed, as he's pulled the covers up over his head while I'm still reading. As soon as he does it, I turn off the light and feel sheepishly selfish.

Other nights, however, he falls asleep with my light on (when I'm not even in the room) which confuses my easily confused brain.

Last night, I asked him, once and for all, what the deal was.

Turns out, he doesn't really mind the light when he can turn away from it. Unfortunately, with some of his stomach issues going on lately, he has to fall asleep on his left side, which faces me. He jokingly said how we should just switch sides of the bed.

"Why not?" I replied. "Let's do it!"

Jay, uncomfortable with this kind of abrupt change, takes a minute to get used to the idea while I remind him that it isn't unprecedented.

We had the I'm Going To Scream If I Can't Feel A Breeze Switch of '99 when I needed to be closer to the open window in our roasting, un-airconditioned apartment.

Then there was the Great Big Pregnant Woman Who Can't Hold It For More Than Two Hours Switch of 2005 when we moved our furniture around and I needed to have easier access to the bathroom during the middle of the night.

We survived both of those traumatic events perfectly fine.

And thus, the Bile-In-The-Stomach Bedside Swap of 2007 event transpired last night.

We are 3 for 3 folks!

Sunday, December 16, 2007

Loving My Countertops

Last year, I discovered Target's Method cleaning products. I think they do a good job and they seem to have infused most of them with an original pleasant scent.

Imagine my delight when I came across some of their new holiday scents. I picked up some Cinnamon Bark hand soap for my downstairs half bath and some Hollyberry countertop spray for my kitchen.

I used it for the first time a couple of days ago. I felt strangely...happy afterwards, and found myself sniffing, on purpose, for a good ten minutes afterwards. What a nice smell.

I used it again yesterday. Again, the smell made me smile but this time I felt, well...attracted...to it. I held the bottle up to my nose and sniffed away. Why was I so drawn to method's hollyberry?

It seems Axe bodywash may have some competition from the home cleaning product line. Hollyberry smells like....my husband. His aftershave and deodorant and him all combined. It's all musky goodness!

I had Jay smell it when he got home and he couldn't smell anything.

Proves my point, don't you think?

Now...I need to go dirty my countertops!


Hummity, hummity!

It's Kind of Festive Down Here, Huh?

Last night, Jay and I went to listen to the King Singers perform a Christmas concert with The Mormon Tabernacle Choir, The Orchestra at Temple Square and, not to be forgotten...even though I'm not sure how hard their job actually is, The Bells On Temple Square.

My sister, Sarah, had gone on Thursday night and had warned us of the many hassles accompanying the evening. Parking...impossible. Getting through a line with a purse (it had to be checked)...long. Finding seats together in the conference center...uh-uh.

Heeding her warnings, Jay and I decided to leave two hours prior to curtain call to have ample time to arrive, we left all purses and male handbags (no..he doesn't really use one) at home, and rode Traxx to sidestep the parking issue.

Going downtown, Traxx was no problem. It was crowded and we didn't have a seat, but I am sturdy enough and confident enough in my underarm protection to happily hold onto the pole. Being the savvy urban dwellers we are, we hopped off one stop earlier than the obvious stop and walked through the plaza. At the Conference Center, where the concert was being performed, there were long lines at each entrance, but no line at door 15 which was offered to anyone without a purse or bag. We went right through that, found our seats and sat smugly in our knowledge that we had just accomplished the most smooth arrival known in the greater Rocky Mountain region. And we only had an hour to go wait and stare at each other.

The concert was spectacular. It really is unfathomable that so much detail, effort, preparation, talent and professionalism go into something that is offered at no cost. I know I've heard a lot of mumbling and grumbling about how tickets are distributed, and I'm not sure there isn't a better way, but what a wonderful thing these concerts are to the members of this community. The performance is world class. The opening number had dancers coming down the aisles, dancers on stage and the bell choir filling every possible space. I heard some old favorites with new twists to accommodate the voices and abilities of the featured guests, and even some new arrangements. The King Singers/men of the choir arrangement of O Holy Night was inspiring.

There was an entertaining rendition of the Twelve Days of Christmas (my least favorite Christmas song ever) that, while long, finally brought some purpose and clarity to the song. It really is about all those crazy things, and there were lords leaping, and geese a'laying and swans a swimming (all through interpretive dance, of course). Again, so much effort went into performing this song. The arrangement, the costumes, the choreography...and don't forget the bells.

My favorite song of the evening didn't include the choir, the King Singers, the orchestra or even.. bell choir. It was an organ solo of I Saw Three Ships. I've never seen anything like it. It's as if he had ten arms and twenty legs helping him out. It made me want to actually try on the organ shoes I got for my birthday a year and a half ago. Can one brain really be able to delegate so many orders to different parts of the body? Maybe the shoes are magic. I'll let you know.

I've loved the King Singers and their tight harmonies since seeing them in college, and they didn't disappoint. They did a very fun arrangement of Jingle Bells and The Little Drummer Boy as well as many others, and continue the annual tradition of merging elite performers with an elite choir for an elite concert. As I watched them, they seemed to be having fun. I think any performer would love to have that kind of opportunity.

The King Singers

Unbelievably, in that crowd of 20 plus thousand, sitting only five seats away from me was Kelly A's sister, Lori, who I have actually never met, but we both knew who the other person was from pictures. A year ago, she would have been another stranger in the masses, but thanks to blogger and the spirit of friendship, I could reach down a few seats and warmly shake hands without being a freak (although I'm pretty sure everyone around us, including my husband, would beg to differ).

The ride home didn't go quite as smoothly. People were EVERYWHERE. As we were waiting for a crosswalk to change at the edge of the Plaza at Temple Square, a young man behind made the comment as the tenth or so horse drawn carriage passed by, "It's kind of festive down here, huh?" I've never heard such an understatement.

Photo ripped from the internet courtesy of Rich Legg

There was a Jazz game that finished the same time as the concert, and the trains were full to capacity. We missed three of them due to the crowds and I cried aloud, "Traxx! I want to love you! But you make it so hard!" Luckily, it was a beautiful winter night, we had procured free babysitting from my sister and there was no urgency to get home.

I'm so glad we were able to go. They were making a recording that will be aired on PBS next year, so mark your calendars. You won't regret it.

P.S. I don't really have a problem with the Bell choir. Their gloved handed ringing adds a lot to the songs they perform in. It's just kind of a joke with some members of my family.

Friday, December 14, 2007

Book Review #39 - The Chosen


I love how Chaim Potok is able to create a story about so many different things. There are dozens of topics within his books to discuss, enjoy and ponder, but he manages to twist and turn his story, so at its end, you get the Rubik's cube sides all neatly back to the same color.

Like My Name Is Asher Lev, which I loved, Potok writes about a Jewish boy torn between his own genius and his orthodox father's expectations. Danny Saunders, a genius boy with a photographic memory, is destined to take his father's place as the community tzaddik, or spiritual leader of Hasidic Jews. To teach his son compassion, he parents him with silence, like his father did before him, and the only time father and son talk is when they discuss the Talmud, a Jewish book consisting of different rabbi's discussions of Jewish laws and ethics.

But, the father-son relationship is only one side of the thematically complicated but narratively simple story. There is much food for thought about friendship ("You think it is easy to be a friend? If you are truly his friend, you will learn otherwise") which Danny's father, Reb Saunders, tells the narrator of the story, Reuven Malter, and certainly proves to be true. There is a fantastic development about the Zionist movement, and the opposition within the Jewish community against Israel to be created after the second World War. There is an interesting, albeit outdated, flirtation with psychology and Freudism. And much, much more...especially if someone could simply live inside my head and answer back whenever I had a "and what do you think about this?" moment.

I find that one of Potok's greatest achievements is his ability to narrowly write a story that happens in a close, sheltered environment about a specific religious belief, and have it easily apply to many different beliefs and situations. I found myself thinking to myself most of today about how this story, about a community of ultra-orthodox Hasidic Jews, has a lot in common with my current community. This place, where I live, has the broadest spectrum of believers/non-believers, practicing/non-practicing, ultra conservative/ultra liberal members of my own religion. The characters in the story are living and functioning in an almost self-contained environment. Their schools are Jewish. Their sports teams are Jewish. Their stores, hospitals, friends and neighborhoods are Jewish. The conflict is not "us vs. them" but "old us vs. new or changing us" and "holier us vs. secular us". They don't see the world around them.

Ding, ding, ding!!!

I'm not going to go much into it, although I'd like to, because I simply have too many different thoughts (and it'd be much better left for a conversation with someone who has read the book as well), but I have been thinking most of the day about how appropriate Potok's story, which takes place in the 40s, applies to the LDS faith today. Especially here in Utah, where there is a cocoon, of sorts, that envelops people that were born here, grew up here and have since reproduced here. Not that "here" is a bad place to be, but like this small Hasidic community in New York, they simply do not see outside. Rather than grasping on to our common denominator, our love and belief in Christ and his gospel, we separate and divide ourselves over things that make us human. Like whether we went to BYU, or not. Or whether or not we like Mitt Romney.

These things don't matter. Like poor Reb Saunders had to discover by isolating his son from his best friend, and what David Saunders knew, but didn't have the courage to proclaim, good exists in all shapes and sizes and from all walks of life. It exists down the street, where perhaps the homes aren't matching brown stucco craftsman style. It exists at the other school. It exists in literature and areas of study and even at the church with the different shaped spire. There is goodness everywhere.

This belief of mine is fundamentally different from Reb Saunders, who explained that each person is born with a tiny spark of goodness which is enveloped in a shell of ugly and evil. It is the responsibility of the parent, the church, the community to protect that spark, encourage it, feed it so that it can grow and expand to eventually fill the shell and push out the evil.

While there is certainly plenty of evil surrounding us all, I think it only gets more bold and has more room to grow when we huddle around our goodness. It, goodness, is bigger than we allow it to be. We need to link goodness to goodness and charge down the street, all ablaze together.

Kind of a tangent, but I love books that make me go off down one. I can't say this book is a favorite, because it didn't make me feel the way a book needs to, but I'm certainly glad I've read it and happily encourage anyone who hasn't to do so.

Thursday, December 13, 2007

Naughty and Nice

Yesterday, a few names were added to Santa's lists.


This is Henry, post tree tipping (Jay stood it back up before I got a picture), but pre Comet-cleaner dumping. He was very, very... NAUGHTY.


(thanks to Amy M.'s long and steady arms, we managed a ten person self-portrait. Impressed?)

These are the comely ladies who came to my house last night for Blogger Bookgroup. We had a delightful evening (does 1:00 am still count as evening?) with an abundance of good things to eat and talk about. The entire gathering was... NICE.

(from back to front and left to right)

Amy M., Chloe, Amie, Annalisa, Lori
me
(doing an odd not-quite football huddle on my very own row)
,
Ann, Amy, Hannah, Marjorie


Sunday, December 09, 2007

Publishing A Whiny Post, Even Though I Know Better

I'm out of blogging practice. Obviously,blogging is like any other hobby. If you do it often, you find your groove and rhythm and it seems to come easily. At least it does for me. If you don't do it regularly...it can be difficult and frustrating to start again.

While going four (gasp!) days without posting and coming up with this subject might seem a wee bit melodramatic to some, it's actually been over a month since I've written a "normal" post. No catch-ups...no travelogues, no book reviews...but the funnies and the furies of the day to day stuff.

These last few days, the funnies and the furies have happened like they always do (like me shopping in fugly mom snow boots with my pants tucked in and realizing there are lines that I have stepped over. THAT would have been a great post.) but the time, the words, the energy and desire just wasn't there. Last night was our ward Christmas party and I spent ALL day running around for it and the event came and went without me taking a single picture. I came home and simply didn't want to blog about it (although...right now...I am holding myself back from describing the most excellent Bob Seger-like rendition of O Holy Night I unwittingly asked someone to perform).

I met another blogger (Becky K) who was very nice and friendly, and attended a Music Makers class that Melanie does and didn't post about it.

These are the only pictures I've taken all week. Sammy had a great time, but Henry needs to practice transitioning between music props. He was a terror. But, Melanie claims that she wants us to return.

Melanie did such a great job. Can you believe she does this for free?

Last night, I outted myself as a fan of Rocky IV when it came on TV and I felt irritated when Jay turned the channel. Right when Adrian yelled "You Can't Win!" and he drove off and there was this awesome montage of clips from all the past Rocky movies with "There's No Easy Way Out" blazing in the background while he drove around Philly. I missed the awesome Siberia training scenes. The upside down sit-ups in the hay loft. Pulling Pauly on the sled. The classic "I will break you" threat from the Russian. The Russians cheering for Rocky and the Gorbachev look alike looking steamed about it (O.K. Maybe I did not need to see it again after all).

These are things I like to blog about. These details...they keep me away from the "and then I did this..." format, but I can't write like that when I've got fugly boots competing with Bob Seger in my brain. I can't choose or ignore and, finally, I give up and write nothing. After these last few days, I've started to wonder if my blog is going to go the way of my scrapbooking hobby of yesteryear. Closets full of cardstock, shrunk-wrapped and empty books, and a tote whose wheels are certainly squeaky from non-use by now. A blog in coma.

The thing is...I like this hobby. First of all, it's got to be cleanest and cheapest hobby in the world. No mess and all it costs is whatever you pay for internet! Secondly, I know there are some of you who get together to craft and create, so, perhaps this doesn't apply to you, but I can't think of anything as friendship-producing as blogging since the old quilting bee days. We come, we write, we comment. All thimble free too!

And lastly, I like it. A lot. It brings me joy.

There are drawbacks. It takes time. I can't think of a hobby that doesn't. The blogging hobby seems to expand as you get more into it. More to read. More to comment. More to write to stay connected. Time, time and time. Bloggers know this truth...if you don't write often, then people stop "visiting" very often. If you don't comment on others' blogs often...people don't comment on your blog often. Comments aren't the end all/be all of blogging, but they sure are nice. It's sort of like the carrot at the end of the publish button.

It takes thought. But, for me, that's a perk and not a drawback. Usually. Except on a night like tonight. What am I trying to say????

I don't know. I'm blogging tonight. And it's harder than it should be. And I'm not all that good with "hard".

Wednesday, December 05, 2007

Christmas Meme

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? Definitely wrapping paper. With ribbon. For some reason, I really dislike naked wrapping paper. It needs some strings, and curls and sparkles.

2. Real tree or artificial? Always real. But, I do admit that the artificial trees are looking better than when I first disavowed them. And I hate the mess of real trees after a couple of weeks. Who knows what the future holds?

3. When do you put up the tree? Usually by the second weekend in December. I think one year we did it the first weekend, but the tree was so dead by Christmas that I had to take it down the day after Christmas...which I'm not emotionally ready to do yet.

4. When do you take the tree down? Ah...did you enjoy the foreshadowing on my previous answer? I like New Year's Day.

5. Hot chocolate or apple cider? Hot Chocolate, most of the time. But, if the choice was between Hot Chocolate or Wassail...with all of the orange, lemon, pineapple, cinnamon, cloves and sugar simmering for a couple of hours...I'd jump ship. Unless the Hot Chocolate was a really good peppermint flavor. Oh...the decisions!

6. Favorite gift received as a child? Ski lessons the Christmas I was in seventh grade. It made all the rest of the winters better.

7. Do you have a nativity scene? I have a great one now! A beautiful glass nativity hand made from Myanmar. And the big, glitzy Costco one. My mom gave it to me. Now...there's a lady with a few nativities...

8. Hardest person to buy for? Hands down my dad. He usually requests something like all of his children to be happy and to a Christlike life. And, unfortunately, only one of us can be the one to give him the latest church book.

9. Easiest person to buy for? Probably Jay. I love shopping for him. It makes me giddy. Except for this year...I'm still drawing a blank.

10. Worst Christmas gift ever received? Thank goodness the question was about receiving. The list of worst gifts ever given would have gone on and on and on and on about the gigantic hershey kiss I got my brother, or the glass piano I picked up at Drug Fair (think Walgreens) for my sister. But, the thing that embarrassed me the most was probably some frilly underwear from my aunt. Like when I was eight. I'm actually really easy. I like most things.

11. Mail or email Christmas card? Mail. I can email any old time. But the mail...well...it takes something special.

12. Favorite Christmas movie? Honestly, my favorite one is the short, music only video done by the church called the Nativity. I just love how it captures the reverence and joy of the moment.

13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? Hopefully sometime soon.

14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? I don't think so. I don't return many things either. Like I said...I'm easy.

15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? Fudge. Without nuts.

16. Clear lights or colored? I've chosen clear since I've been responsible for the choice, but I kind of miss the big, clunky blinking ones we had every year on our tree growing up. And a few even had that big, metallic reflector around the bulb for some extra glow. Those are fun.

17. Favorite Christmas song? O Holy Night. It moves me. I hate when the pop stars only repeat the first verse because it gets really, really good in verse two and three. My favorite pop Christmas son is Last Christmas from Wham. Last Christmas, I gave you my heart...and the very next day....you gave it away. This year, to save me from tears...I'll give it to someone special (special)...

18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? I actually like staying home now. It'd be too hard to get Christmas in the car. My kids have yet to wake us up early...but I think this year might be the year. I can't wait.

19. Can you name Santa's reindeer? You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen. Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen. But do you recall...the most famous reindeer of all? Just like I can name all the books in the bible and book of mormon...if it's to a song, I'll remember.

20. Angel or star on top of the tree? I have what my childhood tree growing up had. It's a finial (a word I just learned while researching what the heck I put on top of my tree) tree topper. I'm sentimental that way. Its a beautiful red piece of blown glass.

There, now I can say I have done something officially holiday-ish. Bring on the fudge!

Tuesday, December 04, 2007

Book Review #38 - East of Eden


LOVED. EVERY. BIT. OF. IT!

What a story! I've been typing book reviews for a couple of hours now and my mind is a bit shot, but I finished this last night and afterwards, I lay back on my pillow extremely satisfied just thinking about it. It's so rare that I read something that delights me from beginning to end. While there were a few turns on the journey that confused me and seemed to take the book in a different direction, his connecting all the characters, the stories and to do it with profound meaning is nothing short of brilliant. Now add the facts that he weaved in a little of his own personal history, and one of the oldest, and best known stories of the Bible and Steinbeck's brilliance is only amplified.

I'm always surprised when I love a classic. Perhaps because there are a lot that I haven't liked, or merely tolerated, but this was a joy to read. The characters are so multi-dimensional and interesting that their stories and development become almost personal. Adam, Samuel, Lee, Abra, Cal, Aron, Kate/Cathy and even Liza were real for me. Their homes were real. Their towns were real. Best of all, the consequences to their actions were real.

How do you summarize East of Eden? It's a story about good and evil. But most of all, it's a story about choice. For me, the central part of the book was the realization made by Lee, Adam and Samuel when they were dissecting the story of Cain and Able and their offerings. In one translation, the Lord rebukes Cain's offering by saying, "If thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted? And if thou doest not well, sin lieth at the door. And unto thee shall be his desire, and thou shalt rule over him."

It was while reading a different translation that Lee, a Chinese servant, noticed a difference. In it, rather than saying "thou shalt rule over him" it said "do thou rule over him" They noticed that it wasn't a promise, it was an order. Such a difference got Lee wondering what original word different translations came from.

After years of studying with Chinese philosophers and a rabbi, the consensus was that the original Hebrew word, Timshel, actually means "Thou mayest". Therefore, the bible does not order that man triumph over sin or promises that it will. It says that the way is open. For if thou mayest...that mayest not.

Brilliant! Because that's what I think! Agency is so important to Heavenly Father that he allowed 1/3 of His children to leave him permanently. Of course we have a choice over sin.

Steinbeck leaves the story briefly in Chapter 34 when he writes a short essay about the one story that exists. He says,

Humans are caught - in their lives, in their thoughts, in their hungers and ambitions, in their avarice and cruelty, and in their kindness and generosity too - in a net of good and evil....A man, after he has brushed off the dust and chips of his life, will have left only the hard, clean questions: Was it good or was it evil? Have I done well -- or ill?

In uncertainty I am certain that underneath their topmost layers of frailty men want to be good and want to be loved. Indeed, most of their vices are attempted short cuts to love. When a man comes to die, no matter what his talents and influences and genius, if he dies unloved his life must be a failure to him and his dying a cold horror. It seems to me that if you or I must choose between two courses of thought or action, we should remember our dying and try so to live that our death brings no pleasure to the world.
We have only one story.

All novels, all poetry, are built on the never-ending contest in ourselves of good and evil. And it occurs to me that evil must constantly respawn, while good, while virtue, is immortal. Vice has always a new fresh young face, while virtue is venerable as nothing else in the world is.

This is what his book is about it. Man's struggle over good and evil. In a completely human story, Steinbeck captured THE story with his characters and storylines. This is a book I happily recommend to anyone and will buy for my all-time greatest books library.

Book Review #37 - Under The Banner of Heaven


Hold on to your hats, (and maybe get a seat cushion) because I've got some opinions about this one.

First of all, I'm not a frequent reader (or anytime reader) of the warped mental state of a murderer or of anti-mormon literature. I made an exception for this book. You'll see why.

While not exclusively about the murder of Brenda Lafferty and her baby daughter, Erica, the jacket's description about her murder and her murderers snagged my interest. Brenda was my first cousin and even though her murder took place when I was not quite nine years old, I remember it and was traumatized by it.

I remember driving with her and her husband, Alan, back to my Aunt's house after a family reunion activity at a park. She was gorgeous and on the way home, she told me she'd pierce my ears (a highly desired goal of mine). After she was murdered, we went to the funeral and I remember all of the police cars surrounding the stake center. Her murder was, as yet, unsolved, and the Laffertys were still on the loose. It was scary and sad and I had nightmares afterwards. Were they coming after all her relations? Even the cousins two states away?

The book is kind to Brenda. She was a young mother to 15 month old Erica, and realized fairly early on that the family she married into was not what she originally thought. I think the most tragic thing revealed is the posthumous knowledge about how unhappy she was. She left journals describing the mess around her and her desire to leave. But, she thought she could still save her marriage, and her husband from the influences of his brothers.

Her older brothers-in-law became convinced that they didn't have to pay taxes, didn't have to have driver's licenses, didn't have to work and that the LDS church had gone astray when it did away with polygamy. They started having meetings, organizing a School of Prophets and limiting the freedom of their wives, who they now believed were to be subject and subservient to them. No more access to money or driving, the wives listened to Brenda, who of all the wives of the six Lafferty brothers, was the most educated and, probably more importantly, the least exposed to their perversions. She convinced the wife of the eldest brother, Ron, to leave her husband and protect their six children as he talked about arranging for his eldest daughter, only twelve, into a polygamous marriage.

Ron's wife left, and Ron fell further into a delusional state. While doped out on marijuana and alcohol, he'd have "revelations" that he'd type into a computer and discuss with the other members of the group - mostly his brothers, but a few others as well. Eventually, he received what he called, the "removal revelation" that commanded that Brenda, Erica, the RS president who helped his wife through their divorced and the stake president that presided over his ex-communication should be killed.

While most of the group told Ron that this was a bad thing, and they would not support it, his brother Dan believed that his brother had honestly received the revelation and worked with him to accomplish it. They consecrated a knife to use. They picked the date - pioneer day, and in one of the controversies that is still not understood, discussed it in front of their mother and Brenda's husband, Alan.

Dan Lafferty, Ron's younger brother, is the worst kind of scary. Polite and nice and completely deceived, he still believes that he was commanded to kill an innocent woman and her baby and feels no remorse. He believes that he is Elijah and will be the one to foretell the second coming of Christ. He thinks he is good. He thinks he's just trying harder to be good than the rest of us.

Somehow, in his and every other story of fundamentalism that Krakauer exposed, their justification for doing evil and ignoring good is all founded on extreme and polarizing doctrines. Polygamy. Visions. Revelation. Line of succession. All legitimate things to think and worry about, but they seem to completely ignore the important things that Christ taught while on earth. Say...something like....blessed are the peacemakers. And loving our neighbors. And repentance, hope, forgiveness, charity and love. I think until we master these, the mysteries of promise of further knowledge is a long ways away.

Kraukauer argues that religion, particularly the history of the LDS religion is prone to produce extremists who do more harm than good. Much like that of Islamic fundamentalists, the religion's history is one of violence and secrecy.

I can't say he is entirely wrong. I do think there is a propensity for believers to fall into extreme behavior. However, while Krakauer believes it has something to do with the doctrine or leaders, I believe it is entirely due to opposition.

Good things - the best things - are perverted the most.

The family, a loving shelter for children to grow up protected and loved, is crumbling in every society in the world. Parent's don't have to be committed to each other, or their children, any longer and children are left exposed and expected to understand adult things way too early. Like why mommy has sleepovers. Or why I have two daddies. Adults may be free to do adult things, but adults don't live in bubbles. Our children see it. And they use our example for the basis of their own family. These are not good things. Abuse, neglect, control...all contrary to what loving mothers and fathers are expected to do.

Sex, a necessary and beautiful part of The Plan of Happiness, a way to express love, joy and commitment to a husband or wife and bring children into the world is viewed either as a dirty and ugly thing to stay away from or view with distaste, even within a loving marriage, or as a pornographic and debasing way to treat another human being. Pedophiles, fetishes, adultery...all selfish and about the individual's own pleasure. If it feels good, do it regardless of who you hurt. A complete perversion.

Religion, a means to learn about worship God. And yet, so much evil, so much harm throughout history to His children has been brought about by its name. I don't believe any evil has been done by those truly devoted to God. I really don't. It has all been done by those influenced, knowingly or not, by the great deceiver, Satan. I think those who don't believe, like Krakauer himself, find it awfully easy to find fault with faith, with religion, because they focus and magnify the imperfections of man. He translates it into an imperfect or non-existent God, which is easy for him to do. He has the proof. Look! This man murdered his sister-in-law! That is no God I believe in. Well, Jon, neither do I.

There were parts of this book I read like a Jon Stossel book. You know the guy who does those myths and consumer reports? Like Stossel, Krakauer sounds so informed, so fair and accurate that his expose seems complete and thoroughly researched until you read about something that you actual know about...perhaps even more than he and his "year" of studying. I know very little about the fundamentalist LDS offshoots who thrive in southern Utah, Colorado, Canada and Mexico. I've never been all that curious. But I know a bit about the LDS church. And in my lifetime of study, there is so much to learn about the good things, the important things, that there isn't much interest or energy for me to worry about people who think that the church went off course when it banned polygamy or allowed all worthy males to hold the priesthood.

So, like most readers I imagine, I found myself thinking, "cuckcoo!" when he described the living situation of polygamist families. But, his bias was loud and clear, and when he wrote about the history that we share....about Joseph Smith and Brigham Young and John Taylor, I knew the spirit of the book. Every single one of his sources was a dissenter or apostate...as if they had the inside track to truth. Shading, innuendo, rumors and hearsay are all given as proof and fact of corruption and deception.

While I'm not naive enough to think that the church has no black eyes in its history, I can't admire a critic who presents only one side of a story. Krakauer commits a real blunder by limiting the story of faith to people with none or an extremely warped sense of it. And he certainly didn't provide justice to my cousin's story.

Brenda Lafferty's story was a story about the LDS faith. Of goodness. Of kindness and strength in helping her neighbor. Of a willingness to stand up to evil and unholiness. Brenda Lafferty's story is the real story of a believer.

Book Review #36 - The Fool's Progress - An Honest Novel


I've never read Edward Abbey, but when Jay saw this book, he suggested I read The Monkey Wrench Gang, a book he had read in high school.

Seriously, what is it about me never hearing about authors and books that every.other.educated.person I know seems to know about? I've never heard of Edward Abbey and I only checked it out because it got great reviews on Amazon.com.

Apparently, Edward Abbey is an environmentalist whose books have been known to inspire radicals but also open up frank discussions about the treatment and protection of the western landscape. All right. That's one point of view. I can respect that.

But, this was not the book to start with. I don't know if he's a great author or what, but, supposedly, this book is autobiographical and I can tell you, if it is (he's dead...so it's all speculative anyway) that I don't like him. Completely self-indulgent and apparently moral-less, I'm not interested in his addictions or inability to commit or his lassez-faire attitude when it comes to love, work and person hygiene.

The writing is, I admit, good, but I'm a story girl...and the story is....bad.

You'd think he'd endear himself a little by calling himself a fool. By being so blatantly honest. But it only shows off his self-indulgence and egocentric perspective.

A Fool's Meandering is more like it. I witnessed no progress here.

Book Review #35 - I Didn't Plan To Be A Witch


Ever since I attended the Eyre's fireside months and months ago, I've had this book on hold due to its fabulous title. Hello! This could be my life's theme!

My life really doesn't resemble the chaotic and dramatic life that parents of nine children and authors of a national best selling parenting book series have. But, that doesn't mean that I didn't take anything away from it.

Not really an advice book, per se, it's more of a "take heart - and don't sweat the small stuff" book. Which, I suppose, is good advice. I loved some of their funny stories and appreciate her willingness to keep it real. I LOVE real...especially when it comes to families. What good is there in the facade? Only discouragement and competition. None of us are perfect. But we can all be better.

At the end, she writes what I was thinking. She says, "Many of you are probably thinking, "I could have written this book." and she responds by saying, "Do it!"

And bloggers, I think we are.

Book Review #34 - At First Sight


I had to read fifty pages of this before I realized it was a sequel to a book I had already read (True Believer). I knew I knew these characters but the story was unfamiliar to me. It's one of those moments where you think your memory is failing you. Had I already read it or not? Turns out, no...but I didn't really need to read this either.

A very boring but realistic sequel about what happens after the oft written about love-at-first-sight-happily-ever-after story, there isn't much noteworthy about the book until the end, when Nicholas Sparks pulls one of his didn't-see-it-coming rugs out from under you. His endings tend to make up for the rest of his stories (which is a rare thing in fiction) and I admit to feeling intense emotion at the end. But, truthfully, I felt a little manipulated by the whole thing. Quit tugging on my heartstrings, Nick! And write a better book!

Book Review #33 - The Piano Tuner


My mother gave me this book in Myanmar, which turned out to be the perfect book to read while I was in Myanmar.

Set in 19th century Burma, the British Army tries to keep a surgeon and Major, who has successfully negotiated and maintained peace in his outpost through creative and non-violent means, happy by fulfilling his request for an 1840 Erand grand piano. Months after its arrival, it becomes horribly out of tune, and the captain, Anthony Carrol, requests the services of a piano tuner.

In the late 1800s, travel to Burma took even longer than my 25 hour ordeal (I know! Instead, it took about a month by ship, train and horseback) so honoring either and especially both requests piqued the interest of the piano tuner hired for the job, Edgar Drake.

Through letters and official Army documents, the history and complicated situation of the British Empire in Burma is told. It's not the most entertaining thing to read, but the familiarity of some of the landscape and people sucked me in.

There is a story and plot that is worthy of its own discussion about complicated motives, allegiance and destiny, but the thing that impressed me the most was that this was written by a young man, out of college and taking off a year to study Malaria along the Thailand/Myanmar border, who wrote this before going to Medical School. Me thinks the boy has a bright future!

I'm not sure who to recommend this to. Anyone interested in Burma's history, for sure. And the folly of the British Empire (certainly, there are lessons to be learned from that!) but for most, I doubt the slow pace of this book would hold much interest. I'm glad I read it, though.

Book Review #32 - The Woods


I disliked the last Harlan Coben book I read (Dealbreaker) so much, that I thought I had sworn him off as an author, but after flying from Seattle to Taipei and finishing both of my books that I had brought already, I found myself in a bookstore at the Taipei airport hoping to find anything that I could buy, in English, that I had heard of.

I hadn't heard of this book, but I had the author and took a risk and bought it.

I loved it! This is my absolute favorite kind of thriller.

A teenage son of Russian immigrants, Paul attends a summer camp where a horrible quadruple murder takes place, one of the victims being his older sister. Years later, following the death of his father, the abandonment of his mother, and his prosecution of two wealthy college boys accused of raping a black stripper (hmmmm....ripped from the headlines?), questions regarding those notorious past murders and the history of his own family arise. Paul is confronted with the ugliness of blackmail and bribery, a past love affair and his own role in the gruesome affairs of that long-ago summer.

Complicated with a likable person to cheer for, The Woods will keep you guessing and wondering page after page. It was the perfect travel book.

I think I'll give Coben another chance.

Book Review #31 - The Road


A hard book to like, due to its dark subject matter and vagueness, I liked it nonetheless. It's too well written to hate, even though I'm not a big fan of post apocalyptic stories (Waterworld really didn't do it for me).

Luckily, Cormac McCarthy kept it short. I don't know if I could have tolerated more than its 256 pages without getting seriously creeped out, but the length was sufficient enough to break my heart thinking about bleakness and desolation of the situation, but also for the love a father had for his son.

This is not a book that will leave you feeling all warm and fuzzy for the holidays. Leave it for later, but read it. It'll make you wonder at what lengths you'd go to survive (I'm more of a "go towards the light" person, I think) and even more, it'll make you want to run out and buy a few cases of canned goods.

Book Review #30 - Veil of Roses



I liked the premise of the book. Iranian woman who has no rights or opportunities in Iran with the current political situation wants to live in America so she can be the type of woman her parents have always encouraged her to be.

It humanizes Iran (something the news rarely does) and exposes the misguided treatment of women within its country.

Unfortunately, those are the best things about this book. You'll have to excuse me, as its been several weeks and I've forgotten most of the characters' names, but the main character, Tami, contradicts herself throughout the entire book. She's only going to marry for love, but then she comes to America and says yes to a man who clearly has OCD and gives her the creeps. She's seeking independence, but can't stand up to her sister, or her crazy, vulgar friend from Russia.

These contradictions I could forgive, as women are known to be complicated beings, but the ending....unforgivable. Really. For me. Its voice lost any truth or realness that the author had delivered earlier on about a complicated, but probably common situation. I won't spoil it for other readers, but bad endings leave a sour taste in my mouth, and a decent book gets a bit ol' eye roll from me.

Monday, December 03, 2007

30 Second Catch-Up

You know those commercials where the guy talks really, really fast because he's only got so much time to make his point and include all the details? I feel that way about this post. I could get SO wordy about each picture...because each has this great story behind it, but I'm tired of being behind, and I'm ready for Christmas cheer....so.....here goes.


The big fat turkey before I knew what I was going to do with it. Bleech. Raw meat is NOT my specialty.


Proof....the bird was big.


Ready for cooking. I followed all of the advice I was given. I soaked it in a brine the night before, stuffed the inside with grapefruit and rubbed it with butter and put it in a bag. I needed all the help I could get.


Thanksgiving was a blast. 39 people all together and plenty of food. I'd call that a success!


One angle of eaters.


Another angle.


All the grandkids! Only a few unhappy ones.


Jay broke the pose at the last second and this is what we got.


The pure bloods. Really, my in-laws are fantastic and hard to beat. It's just a joke we make when we separate for pictures. I think Jay's family is adorable. I mean, who wouldn't want to be a part of this good lookin' bunch?

My sisters-in-law Bekki and Patty and I(aka...the muggles) trying to get some photo action.


All of us. My sisters were kind of enough to get the group shots.


Last Sunday (so...last, last Sunday) we went downtown and did the Messiah sing-in with the Utah Symphony and Chorus. Fabulous time. I've always wanted to do it and now I can say I have. (oh...and this is a set-up shot. We didn't have solos or anything)


The players.


I love winter and I love the lights on Temple Square. Doesn't this picture make you want some hot cocoa?

This tree was beautiful. The lights were alternately pink and white. Maureen called it a fairy tree.


Seth got chosen as one of the students of the month. The brothers and I went to the assembly and I got really bad pictures. This is the only one that even kind of turned out. He was pretty thrilled.


I took him to Red Robin for a mommy/Seth date to let him know how much I appreciate him working hard in school and doing his best. This was after some "you hoo!s" Because mostly...the picture below was what I got.


All the TVs were showing football! How can a mom compete!


We took all the kids to see The Bee Movie. Pretty good. Henry did great for 3/4ths of it and then started cruising around the theater like he usually does (which is why we don't go to many movies.) I let them pretend play at the arcade afterwards. Henry LOVES the driving ones. So, when it was time to go and Dad picked him up....

Henry let him know...in a non-verbal way...how he felt about it. It gets his point across.


And then it snowed! Beautiful white, powdery snow. It really is the greatest snow on earth. Not the best for making snowballs, but my boys made do.


The first time Henry actually "stood up" in snow. Last year, he was always forced to crawl or sit.


Sammy making a snow angel.

Seth understands the need to pose now.

There, that's it in pictures. The stuff I didn't have my camera for was the football game ( BYU vs. Utah - so fun), Black Friday (no shopping, but we did have a lovely ladies lunch at Kneaders for Jay's sister, Kelly, who just recently added beautiful baby Sara to their family and went to Temple Square to see the lights turned on. Unfortunately...we were late so just got to walk around with about 50,000 other pedestrians). Blogger bookgroup....a great time at Lori's house. I felt like a part! I think I've made it!

There you have it all. I have our ward Christmas party to get ready for this week, as well as all the other hustle and bustle. I don't have any decorations up yet or a tree, and I'm feeling like a slacker, even though I know we haven't done it any earlier in past years. But, I'm getting a lot of pressure from Seth to "get a tree". I love Christmas, and it's the only time I do any "special" decorating, so I'm actually excited to get it all out too.

Longer than 30 seconds, but if you skim...you might come close.

Spiritual - Alma 19-21

Physical - Day 1 of Couch to 5K program. 2.1 miles in 30 minutes plus 15 minutes of weights. It was the first time I used the clubhouse gym. What a resource!

Nurturing - reading lesson with Sam, Dinosaur museum at Thanksgiving Point, FHE

Work - two loads laundry, vacuumed downstairs. Cleaned kitchen.

Friday, November 30, 2007

Kyats and Bhats

I don't think this posts needs many words. To summarize, I didn't bring a lot of money because I didn't want to buy things only to stuff them into boxes and move them around for the next fifteen years (there is a precedent) and I also didn't think that there would be much shopping to tempt me.

I was wrong about the tempting stuff. The craftsmanship in Myanmar is outstanding and I could easily have purchased more or better quality things. As it was, I had to ration my kyats and leave some money for Thailand.

The main place we shopped in Yangon was a market called Bogyoke (pronounced beau jeau). At first, my mom and us sisters were together and we were, quite simply, a spectacle. Four tall, white American women in a shopping area will soon find themselves surrounded by all sorts of peddlers and salespeople. We soon separated into twos, which was manageable, but still enough to draw the attention of some pesky and persistent sellers.


Sarah at Bogyoke Market. This marketplace was streets and streets and booths and booths of different shops. We shopped at a fraction of them.

My main ambition was to find a ruby. I had no idea when we first looked at some, that 90% of rubies come from Myanmar, but once I knew that fact...I had to have one. I really wanted to be able to say, in 30-50 years, "And here's the ruby I bought in Myanmar." much like my Aunt Ruth fascinated me with the origins of her exotic jewelry. Rubies, in any country, are not cheap though and my mother graciously offered to help me buy one as a belated birthday gift. Like any gem, there are various degrees of quality and, of course, the first several I looked at were between $700 and $1,000 dollars. Um....no.

I found this one, simply in its design which is what I'm all about, for $120. I think its gorgeous. It's got some flaws, but the cut and color are beautiful and its a good size too!

I didn't buy much in Thailand. Everything felt more...cheap and readily available. It wasn't that it wasn't beautiful but I didn't have the emotional attachment to the country like I had to Myanmar. They had beautiful things, especially the silk, but everything I bought, minus one magnet, was from Myanmar. All of my Bhats went to taxis, tips and food.

I purchased and my mom gave me several pieces of jade jewelry. Jade, like gems, varies in price depending on cut, color and translucence. This isn't high quality jade but I thought these necklaces were pretty and fun.

My mom gave me this fan she bought.

This is some Thanaka bark. This is the white stuff that the people put on their faces. They sand it down on a stone and add water. It acts as a sunscreen and also keeps the skin cool. Mostly, though, it is their make-up and has been for centuries.

Not so noticeable on the paler nation. But we do have it on our cheeks. It felt really good. Very cool and moisturizing.

Dr. Win presented us with gifts and this is hand woven from the Kachin state. It's beautiful in form and thought, but I have no idea where or when I'd wear it (it's a shawl).

A purse. Most kids use something like this as a bookbag for school.

I bought this at Boygoak for my boys. The woods are ebony and cherry wood. I asked if it came with a game board and the man looked a little confused. Unnecessary, he said. Use paper and draw boxes! Luckily, we have one already.


The Myanmar people are very well known for their in-lay work and painted laquerwear. This is bamboo and copper in-layed into a resin box.


And, of course, a statue! Our statue room wouldn't be complete with one! (Actually, this is my mother's and I brought it home for her. After their two years in China and eighteen months in Myanmar, their house will have a funky Asian fusion theme throughout).

Add the glass nativity I bought for myself, and I have lots of momentous and beautiful things to always remember this journey of mine. Most of me is glad to be finished writing about it, as a month has passed by and I've written about little else, but there is part of me that is sad it's over. I'm thankful to Jay, for allowing me this opportunity with my sisters and for taking a week off of work to be Mr. Mom. My friend, Melanie, who watched Henry and Sam for three very full days, my friend Rochelle who made sure Seth got off to school on the days Jay had to work, and my sister Maureen who picked Seth up everyday.

Thanks for your feedback and comments. I always appreciate readers, because it makes blogging more fun, but there are times I write for my own personal history, and this was one of those times.

We will now return to our regularly scheduled program.