The Circle of a Woman's Reach

So I'm thinking about the women in my life.
I have so many to be thankful for that tonight
I decided to say it outloud!
THANK YOU TO:
The women I knew as teachers
when I was younger...
Miss Peck, Mrs. Gaye, Mrs Stafford,
Mrs. Franklin, my fourth grade english teacher, who looked like a princess
always smelled good, and made me want to learn how to spell!

Mrs. Dornan, the neighbor who taught me how to macrame,
and the neighbor I ran to in the middle of the night when
I was just 10 years old and found my own mother
swallowing pills to take her own life.
You were soft and warm & always comforted me.

Mrs. Crosby and Mrs. LaHew, also neighbors
who sewed for me--
Mrs.Crosby made me a light green wrap-around skirt,
and Mrs. LaHew sewed a blue and pink plaid skating dress,
just like the one she made for her daughter,
my best friend, Jackie.

Mrs. Bartlett, who always lent me a pencil and paper in school
when I had none. Which was nearly every day of 5th grade.

My Aunt Joyce who taught me to sew my own clothes in eighth grade
and always had a listening ear...I used to wish she was my mom.
Then we moved away from Florida
and away from family.

Gratefully, there were other women
who, for whatever reason,
chose to bless my life--

Sarah Anderson, thank you for caring for me
when my own family asked me to leave the house
with the clothes on my back that snowy February day.
Thank you for sewing me that special dress for the
Valentine's Dance so I could go.
Shirley Carlson, thank you for opening your closet
and pulling out brand new clothes and shoes for me
when I had none.
Rosalie Kieth, thank you for taking me in,
when you had four other children of your own to care for,
and for teaching me scriptures while we stood in line at the grocery store,
and for sharing your Book of Remembrance with the cute little cut-out windows
of all of your friends in it.
SuzAnne Brothers, thank you for letting me sleep in your grandmother's special
iron bed and use her special hand-made quilt with the tiny pink roses on it.
You made me feel special too.
Thank you for teaching me your recipe for cod fish and marinara sauce
with mozzarella cheese.
And for teaching me to clean the house on Mondays.
And washing the floors on my hands and knees--
I still make that recipe, and I still wash my floors that way.

Laurie Madsen,
Thank you for taking me into your family
when my own asked me to leave again because of my faith.
I still make your recipe for cheesegrits and our family prayers
are sweeter when we kneel like your family knelt.

Shelly Sorenson...thank you for being an awesome Visiting Teacher.
For coming to my house when my first baby was born
and encouraging me along.
I was so sad that you died in childbirth.  But I thought of you every time
I went into labor and was reminded to be grateful for the miracle of life.
I miss you.

Karen Barg, I love you.
Thank you so much for giving me a wonderful hug
and saying,
"Congratulations" when I found out I was
pregnant with number three
alot sooner than I wanted to be.
I needed someone to celebrate it with me.
You were that person.

Candy Rice: Thank you so much for going to aerobics with me
and cheering me on to lose that baby weight!!
Just knowing you were going to be at my door
every Monday, Wednesday and Friday
kept me motivated to move my buns!

Dr. Eileen, at St. Joseph's Hospital in Phoenix,
thank you for meeting me and Dean at 7am
every morning for three years
so he could have physical therapy.
Thanks for all the stickers you gave to my other children,
who were sitting patiently waiting.
We put all those stickers in their journals...
well the ones that didn't get stuck on their clothing,
or inside the car windows.

To our sweet neighbors in South Carolina,
Leslie Rufus and Leanna Butler,
thanks for making our very sparse Christmas
a beautiful memory.

Lisa Parry, thank you for being a loving Visiting Teaching Companion.
I learned so much from your dedication.
Thank you for sharing so much of your self with me,
that when I suffered post-partum depression,
I could talk to you about it and not feel judged.
And thank you for teaching the Primary kids my favorite song,
"I'll Walk With You"...in honor of Dean.
Your love helped me so much.

Sister Mathers,
Thanks for meeting us at the hotel,
and driving me around to find a place to live
when we arrived in South Carolina to go to school there.
I'd never met you before and there you were!
Thanks for showing up in the pouring down rain
with a crockpot full of delicious chili when I had
Number Four...even though you weren't my visiting teacher.

Dorn Fox, thank you for that beautiful sweater you bought
me for the baby shower...
your card said the baby had lots of gifts,
and you wanted to do something just for me--
I loved the sweater and I still have that card, twenty years later.

Mary Gwinn, thanks to you, I was able to use my
calligraphy talents to help support my family
while we were in school!
By your word of mouth and your Aunt's bridal shop,
I was always busy!
I still do wedding invites all these years later,
and I always think of you and your sweet family.

Nan, you are more than my friend,
you have become my sister.
Thank you for laughing at me,
crying with me,
praying for me and just being there.
I so needed you.

My SIL, Stacie--
for letting me and my yahoos drive down to Atlanta
every six weeks (during midterms and finals)
and hanging out with you and Keith and the kids.
We loved the eggrolls and the memories!

Dottie, thank you for letting me work with you as
a Midwife Assistant.
You let me love your clients and do something I've always wanted to do.
You were an answer to my prayers.

Stacey Durrant--thank you for that first plate of cookies
you brought over the day we moved into the house on
Coberd*le, and for welcoming us into the ward so warmly.
For sharing your painting tips! And for organizing a wedding reception
in Salt Lake when we knew noone else there!
You are such a generous sister and I am blessed in knowing you.

Dodee...you are a trip!
Thanks for the late night talks,
the early morning walks,
the laughs and giggles and sharing your testimony of
God's love for all of His children
in a thousand different moments.

Kelly McKamey and Tami Lynard, thank you
for coaching me to be the best doula
I can be!  You both have shared all you know
so graciously, I am confident going into births
because I know I've been trained by exceptional women!

Lorna...thank you for seeing in my heart
the quiet emptiness
of missing my son,
and bringing him to me as a surprise!
Noone has ever equaled that joyous gift!
I love you to infinity!

Robyn Baird and Rhonda Cazier--thank you for helping me
get my homestaging business going in Idaho,

and Kelly W. thanks for being my partner in crime now!
We are sisters in every sense of the word. One day, we will
have to go to Las Vegas to see Donny Osmond!

Vicki, thank you for sharing the secret to your happiness:
the Gospel.
It changed my life
and brought all of these fine women into my realm.

 There are several other women who've taken time
out of their lives and reached over to touch mine.
This list is just a small sampling of the good women
in my life who've served and love me so.
Women are good at that.
We are the nurturing souls on this earth,
the ones who weep with us
and for us
and lift us up when we are low.
How we need one another to get thru this life
in joy and sorrow.
I am who I am
because of a multitude of women.
Because of them,
I am a better Wife and Mother,
a better friend and sister.

What about you?  Who is on your Grace-full Women List??

Today's a good day to be thankful.


*this is a re-post from 8/2010

Utah-Mormon-Style Funeral Potatoes

Mormon women cook.
Alot.
I cannot think of a Church activity where a menu is not part of the planning.


Who hasn't heard of green jello and carrots?
Orange jello and grapefruit?
scones and honeybutter?
how about 
"Funeral Potatoes"?


I'd heard of none of these until I became a member of the LDS Church
when I was 16 years old.


That was a whole heckuvalotta years ago
and I still hadn't made any of those recipes
until
this past week.
A lovely sweet sister lost her good fight with ovarian cancer.
Her funeral was Friday,
and as I volunteered to help wherever I was needed,
my Relief Society President asked if I could bring
some 
"funeral potatoes".
I said I would, but needed a recipe
as I've never made them before.


She sent one via email:

Funeral Potatoes

1 lg. pkg. frozen hash-browns
-1 can cream corn
-1/3 cup chopped onions
-1/4 cup butter
-1 pint sour cream
-1 1/2 cup shredded cheese
put hash-browns in greased 9 X 13 pan. Bake at 350 degrees for 20 minutes. Mix all remaining ingredients and add to hash-browns. Bake for 30 minutes. you can add crushed crackers or breadcrumbs with melted butter during the last 10 minutes if you want a crispy topping.

I looked at the recipe again--

creamed corn?

really?

I'd never noticed creamed corn in the many styles of 

funeral potatoes I've had over the years.

I called my friend, Nan, and asked her.

She's also a convert to the LDS faith and said,

"Maybe they're Utah-Mormon funeral potatoes?"

Yeah.

Those kind.

They're tricky, I laugh.

Okay then, creamed corn it is.

I made the recipe as it was written,

dropped off the pan in the kitchen of the church

and joined my friends in the Chapel 

for the lovely funeral services of our dear sweet sister, Joanna.

She had a quick sense of humor,

loved a Goodwill bargain so much, 

that Goodwill employees were in attendance,

loved Carlsbad, California,

her family and the Gospel.

It was an emotional, loving service.

At the end,

I was standing in the foyer of the Church 

when my Relief Society President, Lynnel, stopped to visit.

You should've seen her face 

when I asked about the creamed corn!

"What? No, no, no. It's cream of chicken soup!"

"Well, I just thought it was a Utah-Mormon recipe." I answered.

Oh no! 

Lynnel bolted for the kitchen to warn the sisters

to not serve that dish!

She tasted it and said it really wasn't that bad,

in fact, she couldn't taste the corn at all,

but definitely missed the salty flavor of the soup.

"With a little salt, it would be okay."

Lynnel isn't from Utah,

she's an Idahoan.

So there's a lesson for ya.

No creamed corn in funeral potatoes.

Joanna woulda loved this.

Your Neighbor's Bull --A Para-bull

There was a woman who had a bull.
This bull gave her much grief,
for it was a cross, angry bull.
It was unprofitble in every way.
When the bull saw the woman coming out to the field,
it ran away from her,
or stomped in her direction--
warning her to leave him alone.

At night, the bull hopped the fence
to get into another's pasture.

When this happened,
the woman called her good friends,
"Help! I don't know what to do! My bull has jumped the fence,
and I cannot bring him home without help, please help me."
So her friends dropped everything they were doing,
and ran to help.
When they got to the pasture where the bull was--
ready to help the woman,
it was discovered that the woman,
whose bull it was,
did not show up to help.

A phone call was made to the woman,
"Why aren't you here to retrieve your awful bull?", her friends wanted to know.

The woman replied that she didn't really want her friends to bring her bull
back to her,
she wanted to bull to return to her at the sound of her voice.

So she stood at the edge of her pasture,
day after day,
night after night,
calling, pleading, begging the bull to return to her pasture,
leaving hay and barley for the animal
that ate it every night from his side of the fence,
and each day when the bull didn't return,
the woman called her friends--
"My bull will not return to me. Please help. I don't know what to do."

This carried on for a decade--
most of the woman's friends stopped answering their phone
when she called.
Just one good friend remained loyal
and continued to try to help with the woman's problem--
that of trying to get that nasty bull back into his proper pasture.
Yet, everytime the friend showed up to help with the bull,
the bull stomped about the mud,
splashing the neighbor!
The woman still refused to help herself,
and would only stand at the edge of her pasture,
calling out to the bull to return to her.

Finally, realizing that the woman really didn't want
help from another,
the last loyal friend, stopped answering the phone.

To this day,
the woman stands at the edge of her pasture,
calling out to the awful bull.

****

The moral:
If your neighbor won't step in her own pasture,
to claim her own bull,
you may be left standing up to your knees in mud.


So I came up with this little analogy
last weekend
when Daisie and I were talking about one of her
friends who frequently laments that
she has no friends who truly care about her
struggles.
Altho Daisie has repeatedly reached out to this young woman,
in an effort to help her with her "bull" or problems,
the young woman doesn't accept Daisie's help.
I told Daisie that it doesn't sound like it's  Daisie's help
or attention that's wanted by this friend.
Perhaps it's someone else's attention that her friend can't get
so she releases her frustration in the way she does.
N' I told Daisie to just step back and let her friend figure things out.


Friends share one another's burdens--
this is true,
just be sure that the burden you are willing to
share with your friend,
is one they want Your help carrying.


What advice would you give to Daisie?

Harvest

Remember when I shared the planting seeds story
of our good friend, St. Terry Alaskus?
The one where I told you how we've known him for about 7 years
and the one where I told you I knew he would be baptized
over 6 years ago?

And since then,
we'd moved.
He moved.
We didn't see him for almost 5 years.
His life's pendulum swung wayyyyyy out
almost outta sight,
and I wondered how the Lord
was going to bring him back around to us?

And then,
He did last October?
And our good friend had the missionary discussions,
and visited with our good friends
Eric and Marilyn Shuster,
the authors of
"Catholic Roots, Mormon Harvest"
last February while he visited here.


Guess what?





Oh Yes, He did.
Yesterday afternoon.
In the Willow Ward, in Wasila, AK.

That was the day after he married
a sweet LDS gal.

The Lord keeps His Promises.

A Family Mission Statement And An Invitation

When I  think of different people,
there are often particular images that come to mind--
like when I think of Southerners,
I think of hospitality, easy-going smiles, corner churches,
and Friday night football.

When I think of people I know,
I generally think of their family members,
the house they live in,
where they work,
but mostly,
how they treat others,
or what I know to be important to them.

The older my family grows,
the more clear our family identity becomes
to each of us...
my southern roots show when we invite others
into our home,
around our dinner table,
and share whatever we might have to offer.

If you were a fly on the wall at our house,
you would get an earfull--
lots of joking around,
laughter,
poking at each other,
and inevitably the conversations come around
to the topic of sharing the gospel.

That's just a natural consequence in our circles of friends.
We don't sit around and tap our noggins
trying to think of whom we can share our testimonies with--
we're not that good of planners, honestly.
But, being friendly to start with,
we make new friends easily,
and it goes from there.

IN his book, "The 7 Habits of Highly Effective Families",
Stephen Covey admonishes the creation of a
Family Mission Statement,
to create purpose and unity within the family.
And while we haven't sat down together and formally
created our own mission statement,
there is a recognition of at least one of our
familial callings,
Missionary Work.

Our family identity is centered on
The Restored Gospel.
We are missionaries.
It's what we do--
The Colonel does KFC chicken
and we share the gospel.

Last week,
Nana started a new semester in college.
In one of her classes,
she was chosen as a partner by a classmate,
as part of a class assignment to write about someone
and introduce them to the rest of the class--
he said,
"I wanted to choose someone who would be interesting.
I knew if I chose you, I wouldn't be disappointed. You're a Mormon.
I choose you."
Then he proceeded to tell her about himself--
he's married and has a child and he's an Athiest.
This last week, they set aside some time to work on the project
with another classmate Nana invited into their group as well.
Nana was surprised that he'd chosen her solely because of her faith,
and welcomed the chance to share what she knows and how she feels
about what she knows.

Nana was excited.
Before she left for the meeting,
we had a few minutes to talk about
what sharing the Gospel means to her,
and how much our family is defined
by this calling of missionary work.

All of us, from the youngest to the oldest,
share this calling together.
We are a Family,
A Work in progress,
and we are also missionaries for
the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

"...if ye have a desire, ye are called to the work."

So I'm just wondering--
has your family created their own mission statement?
As we are all missionaries for something,
What are you missionaries for?
If you'd like more information about creating a Family Mission Statement,
take a look over at Simple Mom.

Something to Share:
To my non-Lds friends--
Have you ever wondered what the Book of Mormon was?
Would you like to read it right where you are, to get a feel for it?
Well you can do that with no obligation to anyone or anything at--Read the Scriptures.com

I've set a goal to read the entire Book of Mormon in 100 days, and if you'd like to join me, start today.

That's just sixty-six verses a day...and get this, Read the Scriptures.com has an audio feature.  Just click a button, and listen to it right here at your computer.  Doesn't get any easier than this!  

The Book of Mormon is true.  And you can know it for yourself.  It has the power to change your life.

If you want to let me know you're reading/listening online, I'd love to share the journey with you!

To receive your complimentary copy of the Book of Mormon, check out https://www.mormon.org/beliefs/book-of-mormon 

Something Good

So remember St. Terry Alaskus?
A dear friend we've known for years
whom we've shared the Gospel with?
Yeah.
He's been reading, pondering, praying.
He's on the water's edge,
ready to take the next step in,
and all I can think about is that
Heavenly Father keeps His promises.

That's Just What We Do, Right?--a Birth Story

I have tons of pictures from our camping trip--
it was,
as my yahoos like to say,
Epic.


And as I was uploading said pics on Saturday morning,
there was a disturbance in the Force,
such that, I didn't finish.
I'd just gotten out of the shower,
dressed,
hair still wet,
and honestly, I was poking around
not gettin' a darn thing done.

Camping wears me out a bit,
so I get pokey afterwards.
We were set to go to Elitches in Denver
for the day,
and honestly, I was hoping we could postpone it
til next weekend.
Instead of getting ready to go,
I was on my bahooey at the pc
putting together a blog for a
Celebration of the 15th Anniversary of
 The Family: A Proclamation to the World.
I'd just finished it,
when the phone rang--
it was my cohort-in-crime, Nan
wanting to know if I'd be interested in
being a doula at a hospital birth
for a mutual friend (M.) of ours'
daughter-in-love (Mama Joy*)...
whose due date was August 24th.
Heck yeah! I'm in!
Right then, she got another call--
"Hold on a sec, I've been waiting for this call." she says.
She's gone for a couple of minutes,
returns and says,
"That was M.--
it seems Mama Joy's water has broken.
Can you go over right now?"

I grabbed my shoes,
ran a comb thru my still-damp hair,
and thought to bring my scrubs and doula stuff,
just. in. case.

I picked up Nan on the way,
cuz I didn't know Mama Joy's address and Nan didn't either
but knew how to get there.
When we arrive,
Mama Joy is fretful--
red nose, watery eyes, trembly lips...
I gave this new acquaintance a good hug
and assured her that things will be okay.

After just a few questions,
it sounded certain that her membranes had spontaneously ruptured--
she'd made a call to her hospital and they told her to come in
of course.
Mama Joy hadn't packed her hospital bags yet...
thinking she still had two weeks,
so we quickly came up with a necessity list of things to grab,
and also made a call to see if she could get a
priesthood blessing before leaving--
and within minutes two dear friends were over
to do just that.
Mama Joy was calm afterwards,
as was her young husband, Papa J.

I met them at the hospital
and after a bit of time in the triage,
she was admitted and given a room.
She wasn't having any good quality contractions,
the doctor had already prescribed pitocin
within the hour
if labor didn't progress.
So we took a stroll down the halls
and within 35 minutes,
her ctx were three minutes apart!
YES!!

Mama Joy's goal was an un-medicated birth...
and let me say,
she was awesome!
She'd not taken a single birthing class,
but listened to every direction and counsel I gave her
and acted in every way
with purpose and focus.
Her sweetheart was exactly the same--
he learned to breathe with her,
massage her,
comfort her with encouraging words
after some coaching from me,
I found him to be a wonderful helper for
Mama Joy.
For 20 minutes of every hour,
she had to be on the fetal monitor...
but as soon as she could get off that,
she was moving--
walking the halls
in the shower
in the jacuzzi
standing at a high counter, leaning over it,
while Papa J did hip compressions,
swaying her side to side
helping that little baby move down.
When she had to be in bed,
I used aromatherapy lotion,
tranquil mint
to rub her feet which she loved
and was able to relax so much
that it looked like she was sleeping
between contractions!
We kept her hydrated so well
that she didn't have to have an IV...
tho she did have a hep-lock just in case.

When she was showing signs of transition,
(trembling, vomiting, change in emotion)--
the nurse checked and she was 9 cm dilated!!!
YES!
Within minutes she was complete!
YES YES YES!!!
She got a nice
"rest and be thankful" phase--
where her body stopped contracting for a few minutes.
At that time,
I coached her on what to do next
to bring the baby down
and how to push for the delivery.

She did it exactly as I said,
and twenty minutes later,
she delivered a perfect seven pound
baby boy!

The nurse staff was awesome,
and we all worked together so well.
I loved it
and they did too.
Mama Joy and Papa J. declared,
"we couldn't have done it without you!"--
but they could've and
they would've done it just fine,
ya know?

After family arrived
a few hours later,
hugs went all around
and it was time to go.
As the family was expressing gratitude
for my time and service,
I smiled and said,
"Isn't that what we do?"

I went home a happy doula.

I love what I do.
And to have the opportunity to be a part of a sacred event,
a birth,
is as much a blessing for me
as it was for them.

What lingers for me, even today is this:
I didn't wake up yesterday morning
planning to be at a total strangers'
birth...
that was a total gift
to me.
ya know?
We all have talents and abilities
to bless other people's lives--
I have been on the receiving end many times,
and to be able to pay it forward
to step up with just a moment's notice
is one way I can express my talents in purity
and truly feel those warm fuzzies way deep inside.

And get this!!
This morning, my Nana called--
she's in California visiting.
She doesn't have her own car,
but she wanted to go to church.
So she called a meetinghouse,
and whomever answered the phone

picked her up
took her to church
and another family took her back to the hotel
afterwards
and offered their services to her while she's in California--
a meal,
a place to stay,
a ride to the airport next week...
whatever she needed...
because as they said to her,
"That's just what we do."

Yes,
Yes it is.

*Mama Joy is not her real name. But she was a Joy to me!)

Trampoline plus Water plus Yahoos = equals Cool Fun

Did ya notice that the hose is tied to the banister with a YO-YO?

Don't you just love the ingenuity of kids?

I know I do!!

Swimsuits??

We don't need no stinkin' swimsuits!

Does it look like a free-for-all?

Look Ma!
It's Superman...

On the Way to Casual Bloggers Conference

One of the most fanstastic perks of living in Colorado Springs

is watching the Thunderbird Air Show

each year for the

Air Force Academy graduation.

And it just so happens that

we have a pretty good view from our deck:

Which explains why I was an hour late leaving for my 

New Scary Adventure

aka 

The Casual Bloggers Conference

in 

Sandy, Utah...

which, for the record,

isn't really sandy at all,

but from the humongous amounts of traffic

is more like Asphalt, Utah.

But I digress...

I got my bahooey into the car

and headed West with my sweet BFF, Nan.

As you know, my memory likes to play 

hide-n-seek

with me

so to be safe,

Nan--an avid Non-Blogger,

volunteered to be my escort.

Southern Utah was especially colorful

this spring--

 I just couldn't get over the colorful desert flowers along the way...

 So I made Nan pull over so I could get a closer look...

 Ahhhhh...so beautiful!  We talked about the 3 L's....

Life, Little Yahoos, and Laundry along the way. 

Isn't it amazing how you never run out of things to talk 

about with a good friend?

It was really great to just have some time away from la familia

to think, ponder and pray.

We laughed our guts out,

sang with Lady Antebellum,

got a little choked up at times too.

Good friends are the best.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay, so besides the CBC,

big on our To-Do-List

was

IKEA (did you just hear angels sing too?).

We don't have IKEAs here in Colorado,

so that was a MUST-DO.

We walked around there for 

two and a half hours!

No kidding.

It was Retail Therapy like none other.

Loved. It.

 Is this lamp not the coolest thing??  

I have no idea where I'd hang it,

but if someone gave it to me,

I'd find a place, no doubt.

 More Lamps...I think I have a "thing" for lamps.

Is there a support group for Lamp Addictions?

"Hi, I'm Momza and I am addicted to Lighting."

IKEA is so freaking huge,

it could have it's own Zipcode.

  After my puppies were plum.wore.out,

and my pocketbook too,

we bid adieu to IKEA and headed over to the

BIG SCARY ADVENTURE

aka

The Casual Blogger Conference:

 You know these women.

Denae, Crash, and Kazzy.

I was overcome with shock and awe that they knew me too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At Teresa Collin's Girls Night Out,

we were treated to mini-massages--

Nan was almost in pure bliss during hers--

the only thing that woulda made it better

was if she had someone rubbing her feet

and a Diet Pepsi.

Seriously though,

it was a well-planned event;

so much to do and the people were super too.

~~~~~

A trip to Utah

is incomplete without a trip to

 I had their Pork Barbacoa Salad...delicioso!! I could only eat half of it, but even writing this, my mouth is watering and wishin' I had the rest of it!  

~~~~~

 When Nan travels, she knows how to travel in style--

a pedicure is always on the menu...

and she treated me to one too!

 I've said this before, but it's so true, I'm repeating it: 

The worst part about getting a pedicure is

 that you have to STAND UP and WALK OUT afterwards.  

 Cheesy Nan

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We stayed with the Sharps in Pleasant Grove.

I could write a whole blog just about the evenings we spent with them.

Seriously. 

 We met Mr.Elder Sharp while he was a missionary in England.  He was one of the elders that taught MR. W the discussions.  We are keeping Mr. Elder Sharp for eternity.  His wife Sarah is his perfect companion. We LOVE her to infinity and beyond.  And don't even get me started on their precious family. Sweet. Scrumptious. Serious. 

While there, Sarah introduced me to Body Bugg...and I am loving it! There's a whole 'nother blog on that coming soon.  

Sarah also introduced me to Dawn Weidauer, a professional make-up/hair stylist.  Dawn works in Media Make-up and has a Who's Who List in her bag.  Dawn is preparing to launch another blog aimed at everyday folk like me where she does makeovers and uses step-by-step instructions to teach us how to look like a billion bucks on any budget.  I gladly became her first Makeover.  I don't have pics of this, but let me assure you, tons were taken, and will be posted on her new blog when she's ready to launch it.  

I really wondered what Dawn could do with an old hen like me.  I wasn't expecting much, honestly.  But, for the record, when she was finished, I felt beautiful.  Like, prettier than I've felt in a long time.  

Dawn is a miracle worker!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 So this is the Sharp Family.

Well, most of them.

Their son, B. was off to play with a friend,

and Dawn's son, L. was there playing with blondie Mr. T,

so I told L. to stand in "proxy" for B. for the photo.

But the rest of the gang are 100% Sharps.

 Sarah introduced me to OOBEES--

We went to the OOBEES outlet...

got all the girls some for $8 a pr.

Total hit at home!!

Thanks Sarah!

~~~~~~

And that's just Part Uno for the CBC trip.

I have so mucho-much to share,

the rest will be on tomorrow!

~~~~

~~The 1 I've been Promising~~

Finally,

I remembered to post this-- 

pictures from a Saturday Morning Breakfast

with the missionaries.

They surprised us one morning

as two of them

showed up dressed

like

WWF wrestlers.

I present

"Xander"

and

 "The Big O"

The Big O...outta California.

Xander, outta Canada--doesn't it show?

His shirt reads:

"True North

Strong & Free"--

gotta love Canadians!

These boys' Mama's miss them, I just know it!

I don't know exactly why

these fun hardworking missionaries

favored us with a WWF appearance,

but I know that we loved every second of it!

~

 I love our Missionaries

I love their glow

their commitment

their youth

their strength

their example

all of it.

I'm pretty sure

they know

we love their guts!

Sharing Goodness and Ripples

This past week,
a dear friend came to visit me.
I hadn't seen her in twenty-one years.
That's a long time not to see a friend
and still choke-up when you think of them.

Our friendship began when we were both
juniors in high school,
August 1977--
our families had moved to Charlotte, North Carolina
that previous summer.
Her family came from Gainesville, Georgia
and mine moved from Rock Hill, South Carolina.



My family was there in Charlotte for just one school year
before moving to Denver, Colorado the next summer.
But the friendship that formed between Vicki and I,
has only grown since the very beginning.
Because what she exchanged with me,
changed my life.
Gave me purpose
and hope.
Her family opened their home to me,
I spent many nights around their dinner table,
in their basement playing games,
writing letters to their missionary brother
in Mexico--
a brother I'd never met,
but because they asked, I wrote to him
along with the rest of them.
Her family was not perfect,
they had squabbles and fussed at each other--
but I knew they loved each other,
I could feel the love in that home.
It was such a stark contrast from my parent's home;
I wanted whatever it was that this family had
for myself.

It was their Faith that made them different.
And Vicki shared it with me.
I started asking questions,
then
she asked if I'd want to meet with the "elders"--
I was thinking of old men--
hardly the 19-21 year old young men
that came to the house.
And I listened to their message.
Being raised a Southern Baptist,
I had questions...
tons and tons of questions!
I kept a notebook and wrote all of my questions
down,
so when we met again,
I could write their answers down too.

In just a few months' time,
I had my answers
and felt it was right for me
to join the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.
I told my parents--
my father, an inactive Holy-rollin-Pentecostal
who'd graduated in theology from International Bible College
in San Antonio, Texas
and
my mother, an Baptist only by name.
Their resounding reply was
absolutely, positively,
Not.
And then, they moved me to Denver to
"get away from the Mormons".
They didn't realize that once you cross the
Mississippi
the population of LDS increases exponentially.

It was hard to leave my new friend, Vicki and her family.
They'd been so good to me.
This was long before the days of email
and personal computers
texting
and unlimited long distance.
We wrote to each other
using good old-fashioned paper, envelopes and stamps.

My spiritual journey continued in Denver.
And finally,
after much tribulation,
and prayer and fasting,
my father granted his permission for me to
be baptized into the LDS faith.

There was still much opposition
I faced--
eventually moving out of my parent's home
and into members' homes
while I was still in high school.
But that was eons ago,
and the sting of those events
has faded.
I made my own choices as adulthood
came
and have lived my life on my own terms.

My family knows about Vicki
and her family.
My close friends have heard her name a time or two. Or six.
Whenever I have been asked to speak at a Missionary Fireside,
her name is part of my conversion.
It started with her.
She was just 15 years old,
and it started with her heart
planting the seed in mine.

As we stood on the grounds of the
Denver Temple
yesterday--
she'd never been there before--
I was taking pictures of her
and then she took pictures of me
holding my grandson, The Golden Child,
we both were overcome  with whatever those feelings are
that make tears erupt
and words so useless
and just hugged each other
long and deeply.

What could I say or do or give to her
that would even come close to matching what
she's given to me?
She showed me the path to the Temple
where I have been blessed to be sealed to my family
for Time and All Eternity.
How does one repay that kindness?

Vicki, ever the true southern woman answered,
It's like havin' the best lemonade you've ever tasted,
and wantin' to share it with everyone.  You just can't keep it
to yourself!"
I spent two and half days with her--
driving up and down the Front Range of the Rockies--
a constant conversation
fueling the car
turning miles into more memories--
laughing until our sides ached
with little moments of teary eyes
like good friends share.

She came over and met my family--
the kids knew this was important to me
and each greeted Vicki with respect
and my sweet Dani said as they parted,
"thanks for sharing the Gospel with my mom."
Dani has served a mission
and so has David Scott--
their lives have been blessed
and so have the lives of those they served and taught
in Montreal and New Jersey where they each served.
One good man whom I had the privilege of witnessing
David Scott baptize in Ontario,
in October 2006
is now the Branch President there.
Ripple.
Ripple.
Ripple.

Vicki left today.
I don't know when I'll
see her again.
But she left part of her heart
with me
and I am bent on keeping it.
That is the least
and the best
that I can do.

"The Lord does hear our prayers.

But it is usually through another person

that He answers them."

~Spencer W. Kimball.