To Dean, With Love from Danielle

 Dean's birthday.  August was an emotional month for me.  Having seen the decline in Dean's health,
as I have shared previously, it is unclear how many more birthdays we'll have with our boy.

 There are fewer things that give Dean joy than balloons and clowns...

Dean's older sister knows this,

so she arranged for a clown to personally come to the house,

as a surprise for his birthday.

Her clown name is "STINKER BELLE"

and she is great!

She tuned right into Dean and as you can see,

he was delighted!

The balloon headpiece was an immediate hit!

Dean's language skills have declined,

so he was pretty quiet;

just lots of smiles.

And then Stinker Belle asked if she could give Dean a

paint tattoo of his favorite football team--

while she painted, she encouraged Dean to ask her

"clown questions"--

What do clowns eat?

Funny Bones.

Where do clowns sleep?

On a trapeze.

Bee got a turn too...

Joseph too.

 Along with being a sweet, gentle clown,

Stinker Belle is also a talented artist.

She even made Dean an honorary clown--

he couldn't have been more delighted

and immediately wanted to go to Walmart and buy some clown shoes.

What good is looking like a clown at home, right?

Gotta get out and meet the people!

So that's what we did...

I even posted our trip on facebook to let our friends know

that if they wanted to see Dean in action,

his debut performance was happening, STAT,

at our local Walmart!

We did see a few friends up there,

and Dean loved it when others noticed his happy face.

Small joys, this one. 

His simple happiness inspires me

to want less and to give more.

As Stinker Belle was leaving,

I gave her a hug and thanked her 

for being a blessing in our lives that day for Dean.

We both got a little choked up.

She replied that it was she who was blessed that day.

I had also invited my FB Friends to send Dean

a birthday card

and he was pretty happy to receive those--

it sure made him feel special.

SO thanks to all of you good-hearted friends for 

remembering him!

Danielle also made a beautiful video in honor of his birthday--

she said later that her first thought was to have it for a

certain day in the future,

but decided not to save it so Dean could enjoy it too;

he kept saying, 

"That's me. That's me."

Dean is our magical child...

his has cast a spell on us

so that we have never been the same.

Thank you Dani for loving so well.

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.

Women of Character-- A Book Review

The best books in my personal library are non-fiction.

Those that I can relate to, 

while also being uplifted and inspired 

to be more

 and do more 

with the gifts and talents

however obvious or obscure

I have been blessed with.

In "Women of Character"

by Susan Easton Black and Mary Jane Woodger

I feel as though I have been at a delightful banquet

feasting upon the most delicious food for thought

as the two writers share

page after page

after page

the beautifully written biographies of 

women that span generations--

from pioneer days to these present days--

who they were,

how they lived,

and the noble legacies they left 

or are leaving behind.

My favorite?

That would be tough to choose,

for I feel a little akin to most of them 

in one way or another.

As though we have met before--

perhaps because I've met so many lovely, noble women

throughout my life,

women who have blessed my life in meaningful ways--

it is easy to feel akin to the chosen subjects of this book.

As my friend Nan says,

she could easily name 100 women she knows personally

and write a similar book.

I will say, I was so delighted to read more about

Zina Diantha Huntington Young.

She's my children's Gr-gr-gr Grandmother

on their father's side.

I rocked my first baby, David Scott,

in her rocking chair

before it was donated to the Beehive House

years ago.

She was known for her great compassion

which was manifested by her studies in medicine,

home nursing and midwifery;

eventually helping to establish Deseret Hospital in Salt Lake City,

and serving on the hospital board there.

In the book it noted that 

"Zina's greatest accomplishment, however, 

was her service in the Relief Society general presidency."

Zina served as the President for thirteen years.

She was also called as the Temple matron at the same time!

I may not be directly related to Zina,

or any other "wom[an] of character" named in the book,

but I am inspired by their examples

and feel a greater hope that I too,

by my words and deeds can do my best

in my own little corner of the world,

with whatever talents and abilities the Lord has blessed me with,

can make a difference.

This book is a treasure,

and I'm very grateful to Nan,

who gave it to me.

****

If you'd been asked by the authors to name a "Woman of Character",

whom would you say?

The one where we don't let the youngest pray

The Caboose loves to pray.
Every night, at dinner, when the question is asked:
"Who wants to say the prayer?",
she raises her hand as though she's in school,
"Pick Me!"
"I do! I do!"

Seriously, love this yahoo.

Last week was no different.
we sat for dinner
and she volunteered to say the prayer:
"Heavenly Father,
we thank thee for this day..."--she began.
Towards the end however,
she got our attention when she asked:
"And please don't let Nana leave home."

After the prayer,
I said, "Why would you say sucha thing?"
The Caboose: "Cuz I don't want her to go! She's like a sister to me!"

We laughed--hoho hahaha--
for many days since,
as the Caboose has continued to keep that plea in her prayers.

Until yesterday,
it was kinda cute,
but ya know what?
Nana has hit some financial snags with her trip.

So last night,
at the dinner table,
Nana: "Don't let Ari say the prayer."

P.S. I'm Over at Mormon Mommy Blogs today, talking about my underwear!

And That Was Thanksgiving 2010...

It's over.
The whole shebang...
the weeks of planning,
the hours of shopping,
and cooking...
Over.

Thanksgiving needs to be like Target
during the holidays
and have Extended Hours,
right?

We had a humongous 23 pound bird
and she was delicious!
We had all the fixin's to go with,
and pie afterwards!
I passed "FULL" to "Pain-Full"
before I got to dessert.

Thanksgiving Day was super cold,
I think the High temp got up to freezing,
so we didn't even go outside.

The Golden Child wrangled his parents
and put the rest of us under his ninja spell--
is there anything more entertaining than a baby?
I'll be that his picture was taken more than 200 times
over the course of the day.
It would be an understatement to say we are "smitten"--
we are enraptured by this baby's cheeks and bright blue eyes.
He owns us.
***

After dinner,
the Black Friday ads were poured thru,
and a plan of attack was charted:
We needed a new television--
as you may recall, our great behemoth died.
That was the beginning of October.

So we set our sites on two different TV's--
one was at Target
the other at Walmart.
That was the only thing we had on our Black Friday list--
a television set.
Yon Boofus raised his voice and hand volunteering
to go with Dad
in the dark morning hours
to retrieve the newest member of the household.

They got up at 3:30AM
and set out for Target first.
Mr W reports that after seeing a line of people
who'd obviously been camping out
circle the entire building
for hours before they got there,
Plan B (or Plan Walmart)
was enacted and he and his sidekick
darted across town
or over the woods and dale
to our Walmart in Monument.

It was a challenge to even find the 42" Emerson LD HDTV
Waiting Line,
and Mr W was tempted on two different occassions to toss his hat to the ground
and come home empty-handed,
but Mr. Boofus encouraged him to continue on.

Their perseverance paid off
and when they returned at 5:30 AM,
faces beaming brightly as they entered the house
with the bounty they had gone out hunting for
on their shoulders
and all was well!

Then, we went back to bed for a couple more hours.
Mr. W didn't rest long,
then he got to work assembling and putting up the TV--
just in time to watch the days' football games.
And he was happy.

The middle girls--
Nana and Daisie had stayed up past midnight,
to go get their own bounty at Walmart.
They too, did not come home empty-handed
but with a new toaster, crockpot, food processor,
and mixer...
much to Dani's delight.
Well done, Ladies! Well done!

The day started out famously...
but as it wore on,
poor Dean's anxiety got the better of him--
he knew he was returning to his home in Loveland,
and he said repeatedly he didn't want to go
and then lost it...
he struck out at Dani and myself.

The day ended sourly,
as Mr. W and I drove Dean the two hours north to his home.
Dean rode mostly silent all the way there.

He went in the house quietly,
and when I went to give him a hug goodbye,
he walked away.
I asked him if he's upset that I'm leaving him there--
"yeah" he said.
"Are you just ready for me to leave now?"
"Yeah."

His current caregiver visited with us
outside for a few moments before we left.
I think he wanted to unburden his own heart and feelings of "failure" -as he called it,
because he can't take care of Dean's needs.

He is suggesting that Dean be put in a group home--
for the structure and extra hands available.

I don't agree at all.
From everything I've read,
Group Homes are for less-functioning special needs
and there are more opportunities for
abuse and neglect in Group homes.
Since Dean's been in this man's home,
Dean has not been involved in Special Olympics,
or community programs
other than his work programs.
Dean's usually involved in The Loveland SN Orchestra
at Christmas
and the Loveland Ballet Theatre group that hosts a SN's concert/musical
at Christmas.
Dean's just been very bored.
And I think his meds are totally messed up.
So I'll report that this week to his psychologist and team
to see if they can help out.

Anyway,
my heart was heavy all the way home.
If you're inclined to pray,
would you think of my son, Dean this week,
as he moves to another host home?
I'm praying that this one will be a better fit for him,
and his heart will be comforted.
Thank you.
I love my son.

****

We got home in time to watch the
Boise State vs. Nevada game.
We're BSU fans,
having lived in Boise we know that team is
nearly worshipped,
and had great fun cheering them on while we lived there.
So when I went to sleep last night,
Boise was whipping Nevada but good~!
I was in shock this morning to read that BSU lost.
How is this possible?
*****

It's Saturday,
and I have to work.
Boo.
This is where those Extended Hours
would come in handy,
ya know?
I'm just really tired.
But then, I think--
isn't everyone I know
really tired?
So it's not just Me--
knowing that is comforting.
Everyone's just doing what they can, right?
Right.

Time to put away the Fall accessories
and bring out the Christmas stuff!
That's a mood lifter, for sure.
Boofus is really good at putting up the tree.

Happy Weekend.
December's almost here.

The Queen Came By Today

When I was a young mother of younger children--
I had 3 children under two years old--
it was really hard to stay on top of housework.
And a messy house equaled
a messy mind for this Momza.

If you ask my own mother
she'd tell you that
growing up,
I always had the cleanest room
in the house.

I lined my socks up in drawers
by color and style--
white
with ruffle
without ruffle.
My favorite activity was
organizing
my things.
My room was my haven.

Flash forward to motherhood,
and there I was with a housefull
of small children
and a mountain of laundry
sinkfull of dishes
dirty diapers
and
no energy or time management skills
to get my house in order.
Then

THEN
I came across a story that changed
my Life--
The story is set in England
in the days when Kings and Queens
traveled by horse carriage
through their kingdoms
village by village.

One morning,
a worn-out mother of many children
bid her also worn-out husband goodbye
for the day,
as he left for work.
Turning around,
she looked at the state of her household
which was a mess--
laundry spilling over from the washtub,
the dining table couldn't even be seen
due to the mounds of unattended clutter,
the floors only cleared for small footpaths
between each room.
Then the mother looked at her children:
unkempt, dirty clothes, smudged faces
and filthy feet--
her heart sank at the chaos that was staring back at her.
"Not today, she mumbled. Not today."

Just then,
a neighbor knocked on the door,
and poking his head thru the screen,
announced that
"The Queen is approaching the village!"

The young mother looked at her own appearance--
ragged dress,
stained apron,
her dirty hair tucked into a careless bun...
she was in no shape to meet the Queen.
Not today.
Not today.

She brought her children inside the home
and drew her shutters closed
hoping that the Queen would pass by
and not notice her missing subjects.

The Queen's arrival at the village
was heralded by it's citizens--
they all came out to pay respects to
her Highness...
all except the worn-out young mother
and her children.

The Queen did notice the absence of
this family,
and without a word,
stepped out of the carriage
plucked some wild flowers from the earth
and

knocked on the family's door.

The young mother was so embarrassed,
opening the door,
couldn't even look up at her Queen.
The Queen reached out and took
the young mother's hand,
and placed the wildflowers in it.
She smiled at the young mother
and climbed back into her carriage
to continue her journey.


The young mother could hardly believe
the graciousness of the Queen!
She stared at the wildflowers
for a moment,
and then decided to put them in
the best vase she had!

Digging under the cupboard
way
way
way
in the back,
she found a dusty pottery vase.
She ran it under water,
cleaning it off to a gleam,
filled the vase with water
and gently tucked the wildflowers
inside.

She looked around the house
to see where to put her special treasure--
where would it be most appreciated?--she wondered.
Ah ha!--
She set it in the center of the dining table.

Stepping back,
she noticed all the clutter on the table that
distracted from the simple beauty
of the wildflowers.
Quickly,
she cleared the table,
wiped it down
and again,
stood back with admiration.
Better, she thought.
Then a chain of reactions
took over--
wouldn't the wildflowers look even better
if I cleaned the kitchen too?
And the kitchen would look better if
I cleaned the livingroom?
And the livingroom would feel so much better
if the rest of the house were clean too.
Room after room,
she tended and cleaned,
humming a happy tune
as she went along.
The children joined their mother,
each anxious to share this happy day.
After the house was clean,
the mother looked over her brood
and warmed up some water over the fire
and you guessed it--
cleaned them up too.

She put dinner on,
set the table as best as she could,
with worn dishes carefully arranged
around the beautiful wildflowers.
As she lay down a plate,
she caught her own reflection--
"Oh no,
this will not do!
Not today!", she said to herself.
And then she tended to her own appearance.


When the young father came home,
he barely recognized his own home
and family--
he looked at his wife curiously,
and all she could do was point to the
little pottery vase of wildflowers
and say,
"The Queen came by today."

~~~

So I read this story to my husband
at the time
and the next day when he came home from work,
he brought home fresh flowers for me
and a tradition
a habit
whatever you wanna call it--
was born.


I love fresh flowers--
any kind
any color
I love 'em all.
And they have the same affect on me
as the woman in the story.
Mr Wonderful as well as my children
are sweet to me in that I usually have fresh flowers
on my dinner table
nearly all the time.
It makes me happy.

So try it.
Even if you have to buy your own favorite petals
at the grocery store today--
buy them
dust off your most favorite vase,
and see if they don't help to motivate you!

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.

Dear Julie B. Beck: Will you be my BFF?

Dear Sister Beck,
I just love you. Your messages about faith and family and womanhood lift and inspire me.

Dear Sister Beck,
I think you're so neat.  Would you ever consider going out to lunch sometime?  I love the Olive Garden and their breadsticks. 


Dear Sr. B.,
Who does your hair? I'm your biggest fan.

Dear Julie,
Hey there, how's it going? Big meeting with President Monson today?  Anything you can share?

Dear Jules,
Can I call you Jules?

Dear Julie Beck,
I think you're awesome.  And if you wanted to be my BFF, I would totally be okay with that. We could hang out, and go shopping together. Or we could just sit at the table and chat about how cool you are, and the women of the world that you visit are too.  But if you're on your way over, will you call first?  I'd hate to have laundry sitting on the sofa when you got here.

Love,
Momza

Come with me to Holland

Come with me
and visit a new little one,
Nella Cordelia...
Your day will be brighter
and I promise
her Mom will inspire you
for always.

When You Mess with the Bull, You get the Horns OR How to Mess with Your Teenagers!

Dear 14-going-on-15-year-old aka Daisie:
You have a habit
that drives us C R A Z Y --
you "borrow" things without asking.
ALL THE STINKIN' TIME...

So, after much warning:
"How would you like it if I just went into your room
and took what I like without asking?"--
I joined forces with Nana
and we are exacting revenge
on you today.

We had a planning meeting
at breakfast--
WHAT we wanted to "BORROW" for sure
and
for how long
and
where would we hide the contraband.

For all those times you've  "borrowed" clothing
from Nana
without asking,
Nana has her own list of things she's "borrowing"...
like

Your favorite shoes....can I just say the "YESSSSS!!" that Nana yelped when she saw these shoes in the shoe basket this morning, made me jump!  She was delighted that you didn't wear them this morning!

Your camera--You're always stealing batteries for it from MY camera, or the TV remote, or wherever--even though yours came with a battery recharger!!!   USE IT!

Hairspray:  Afte you used all of Nana's, you bought your own.  So Nana felt this was fair.

Mascara:  Did you freak-out when you couldn't find it for school?  I'm gonna feel real bad about this tomorrow. Probably. Possibly. Maybe. not.

Your blowdryer:  Just knowing you're not gonna notice it's missing until you need it makes me joyous.

I did leave your curling iron tho.

Had to.  You said you are in the middle of reading it for the 12th time.  I didn't plan on taking it,

it just felt right tho. Like it spoke to me from your bookshelf: "Take me, Take me."

Your empty sock drawer:  Nana's idea.  Unfortunately, the only socks there weren't yours, but mostly the Caboose's, a couple of the Boofus', four of Nana's and one of mine.  Where are your socks? In that overfull, stuffed laundry basket in your room?  Coming up empty-handed with that was very sad for us.

So we looked around your room, and thought

WHAT ELSE???

Nana grabbed these...butterfly wings that hang above your bed.

No reason.

just cuz.

I took the calendar...why?

I have no idea.

But it made me laugh at the thought of it.
Women of the Old Testament--
like Leah "borrowed" Rachel's husband for 7 years?
or was it the other way around?

So I had to take that.

Daisie,

You will recieve your belongings in due time.

When we've used them up,

worn them out

loaned them to friends

or gotten bored with them.

Except for the blowdryer...

I think we can work out a deal with that...

but I do plan on taking it again

whenever the mood strikes

until you learn your lesson here.

And what is that???

ASK for permission to borrow things

and return them in as good or better shape

in a prompt and purposeful manner.

LOVE,

Momza and Nana

p.s. love yer guts.

pps ( I wonder how long before she figures to look here for the clues as to what is missing?? mwahahaha)