Listen To Your Mother: Boulder Audition

So.
You know that saying:

Yeah.

So I am.

I mean, I don't do alot of 

"scary" things on a daily basis.

Mostly, 

my goal is to just, 

you know, 

get through the day.

But tomorrow is different.

Tomorrow I am sucking up my fears 

and taking them with me

to Boulder

to audition for a spot in this years'

Listen To Your Mother

show.

I can't even tell you

what got it into my head 

that this is a good idea.

Twelve hours from now,

I will be on the interstate headed north

towards a "Scary" experience

that, as far as I can tell,

is going to be a self-inflicted

rejection

that will sting

far greater than any rejection

from my teenagers,

currently.

What am I sharing?

Well, after hours of reading past blog posts,

contemplating writing a new submission altogether,

I decided to share this one:

Dear Me, A Love Letter to Myself.

Is it worth sharing?

I have no freakin' clue.

But I've tweaked it a bit

here and there,

and to quote someone famous,

"It is what It is."

*actually, I googled the author of that, and it's Unknown, 

altho some guy wrote a book with the title.

{shrug}

OK I'm rambling.

Wish me luck,

Or common sense

to back out.

When Dreams Prompt Goodness

I was in her house
in her kids' room
folding laundry,
specifically,
folding children's pajamas
on their beds.
She stood across from me,
obviously sick.
I smiled an empathetic smile
and kept folding laundry.

That was my dream.
I woke up yesterday morning
fresh from that scene,
wobbled to the bathroom,
came out a moment later,
gathered my robe about my still-slumbery,
bedhead, blurry-headed self
and sat on my bed
pondering what the dream meant.

The woman in the dream
is an acquaintance
I know from church--
and she does have a housefull of littles.
I am not in her inner circle of friends--
her oldest child is just a smidge younger than my 6th (Joseph),
so we are a decade apart in age,
at least.
I'd never been to her house before--
kinda have an idea where it is--
the area, at least.

Mr. W came to my bedside,
kisses good-morning
and I related my dream.

"So, you're gonna call her, hunh?", he says like he knows me.

Scratching my head, I nod. "Yep."

It was still really early--too early--to make that phone call,
so I got busy with getting the kids off to school,
showering, emails, blah blah blah--the stuff I do every morning.

About 10am, a familiar "nudge" came:
"Call her."
I looked up her phone number
and called.
It rang a few times, my heart was racing a little,
these kind of calls always make me nervous because I never know
how the person on the other end of the line
is going to handle this...
I mean, it's fair to say everyone is kind to me under these circumstances,
but it is just
weird.
Not a call one gets often.

Her voice answered,
"Hey, is this Jen?" I asked.
"Ohhh hey Katherine." she answered.
"Actually, this is Dawn [last name]."

Seeing as how the last I called their home was summer 2010,
I think,
she was a bit surprised, but said, "OHhhh, hey Dawn."

"Hey Jen. I'm calling because...well, this is gonna sound weird, yeah, it's sounding weird in my head
but--well, I had a dream about you last night. I was at your house folding kids' laundry because you're not feeling well. So, I'm calling to see if I can help you today?"

She let out a small laugh. "That's so sweet...actually, I've been feeling sick for a few days, but I'm feeling better today. I might actually get something accomplished today. I'm OK."

I persisted. "Jen, I don't dream about your family. Ever."

"I'm actually sitting here folding laundry, as I'm going through stuff the kids have outgrown. haha. That's such a sweet offer. I. don't..I.."

"Jen, can I come over and help? Anything? Run errands for you?--Bring dinner in tonight? Would that help?"

A long pause. A long-freakin-pause.

"C'mon, Jen, let me help", I think.

"I..I would really appreciate that, Dawn." she sighs.

"Great. How 'bout some chili and cornbread? I can bring it around 5 o'clock--will that work?"

She agreed and thanked me before hanging up.

As the day progressed, I went shopping for the ingredients and started preparing my almost-famous-Momza's Psycho Chili, plus cornbread mini-muffins, and a homemade Zucchini Carrot bars with Lemon Cream Cheese frosting--
hey, I'm on the Lord's errand, here so I want it to reflect that..
anyway,
while I'm busy doing all that,
the thoughts that kept floating to the top were:
"Why Me? She has a nice big circle of women whom I know would gladly help her."
"Why Me? Why Today?"
"What is to be learned from this experience?"

As we were boxing the food up to take over--
Joseph went with me because he'd been to her house before and knew the way--
the answers started coming as we drove along the snow-packed streets
from our neighborhood to hers...
"She needs to know I am aware of her."
"You were listening. I knew you would act."
"Help doesn't always come from those we expect it to come from...and that's good."
"I am aware of you too."

I feel humbled that He would trust, does trust,
me to follow my dream.

With Joseph carrying the large box of food dishes and pans,
we walked up to her door and rang the bell.
One of her sons answered the door,
letting us in,
we stood just at the entry
as Jen, weary but smiling,
came to greet us.

She confessed that she really didn't feel good,
hadn't felt good in a week, truly.
And it's realy hard for her to ask for help;
saying she was so grateful for me listening to the Spirit.
I thanked her for letting me serve her, and shared what I learned--
that Heavenly Father is aware of her and He knew I would act.

And that's how we are His hands.
Whether an "impression" on our hearts,
or just acting on an opportunity,
or remembering a dream--
He seeks to bless us in many ways.
"Follow Your Dreams"...
is more than a cliche notion.
At least that's what I'm finding out.
I'm a dreamer.
Always have been, always will be.

Ketchup 2015 So far

Walking along the Santa Fe Trail

as it crosses the AFA:

this was January...the high that day was 68o.

In January.

One of the perks of living in Southern Colorado, truly,

is that, while we surely get our share of snow days,

it's also totally normal to get days like this:

A friend whose downsizing, gave me this old German shrunk that she'd brought with her

to the States over 20 years ago.

I didn't take a BEFORE pic, but it was just a dark brown.

We painted it with Annie Sloan chalk paint in Duck Egg and Old White.

Ari's in the midst of changing her room colors from Pink and Purple

to Shabby Chic blue, grey and cream.

She helped paint this and it turned out exactly as she wanted.

I've been trying new recipes.

This dish is my own creation and it is SUPER EASY--

It's just jar Alfredo Garlic Sauce with fresh spinach thrown in, and a can of diced tomatoes (italian-style), some red pepper flakes, minced onion and garlic, poured over farfalle pasta.

This one is Fresh Tomato, Spinach & Garlic Tortellini soup.

I got the recipe from Pinterest of course.

Eight cups of chicken broth

bag of refrigerated tortellin

6 roma tomatos, (Blanched in hot water then cooled in ice water, peel off skin), diced

2 TBS minced garlic

8-10 oz. fresh spinach

1 medium onion, diced

Heat garlic and onions until just soft, in 2 tbs Olive Oil.

Add veggies and broth, to a boil.

Add Tortellini till it floats to the top.

Top with parmesan cheese and a bit of cracked pepper.

I've been staging and un-staging homes already this year, and had some fun and not-so-fun painting projects, to keep me out of trouble.
We're getting ready for the whole HeeHaw Gang to come into town in April and so I've got to get some house projects done in the next month!  I love when the kids come home to visit...they are the best people I know! Seriously, we laugh so hard when we're together!

Hope everyone's enjoying their February!

Little Moments of Normal

What?!

It's already February 

2015?

Oh man.

Life's coming at us so fast lately.

Anyone else feel that way?

I keep having these "Kodak Moments"--

and they get away from me before I know it.

So, here's a photo dump:

Dean and the sister missionaries.

He seriously {loves} sister missionaries.

Whenever he comes to visit,

the first thing he asks is if they're coming over.

We just got Sister Peters (in the yellow) here this transfer--

and it's her LAST one before finishing her mission 

and heads back to her home state of Idaho.

Her companion, Sister Fisher is from Logan, Utah.

Can I just say that I so {love} our sister missionaries?

They come and go, but we truly love the goodness that emanates from them

and the sweet spirit they bring with them into our home.

What a light.

They're so good to Dean...and you know how that just hits my softspot.

~~~

 I've been painting. Alot. Here's one of my recent projects: a simple, pressed board nightstand:

AFTER, in Annie Sloan Duck Egg 1:1 Pure White:

This was the day Baby Ryker was born in November.  Totally spaced I had taken pics of the big day:
My son with his son.  In the category of "BEST DAYS EVER!":

In January, we took Dara back up to BYU-Idaho

and were there for Ryker's blessing:

 It was one of the best road trips we've ever taken! NO kidding. Joseph was in Mexico with the Builders Without Borders of Utah, so it was a car full of girls which, lightly interpreted meant alot of laughter, SINGING with the "Into The Woods" soundtrack, sweats, popcorn, DVDs, and endless conversations.
***
                               Ryker's Big Day...he has quite the heritage.
He was blessed in the first Chapel in Burley, Idaho. The same chapel where his great-grandfather Alma Clark was the Bishop who presided over and opened that chapel.  If you've ever driven down "Steven Street" in Burley, that street was named for Ryker's granpa, Steve Clark.  A little town with a lot of heart and tradition.

 The happy, tired parents. They are so smitten for this little boy.  We all are. After years of infertility, and many many prayers, Heavenly Father sent this sweet, happy guy to us.  He couldn't be more loved. Just isn't possible, really.

And that's it for today.

Life continues.