Let's Zumba!!

This is my new addiction.
Loved it.
Sure, I was all over the map
as far as the dance steps go,
but
but
but
Oh
my
heck,
Sweating was never so much fun!!!

Come On In!

It's May 12th.

May.

Do you see what's on the ground?

un-hunh.

The yahoos were hopin' for a snow day today--

for the record,

I was not

hopin' for a snow day~

~The clouds are so low

that you can't see the Rampart Range

like normal,

but it's right there~

~Our rainy night

turned icy.

We were told we could

end up with a foot of snow-

so freakin' glad we didn't!

~So I was taking pictures of outside

and on a whim decided to

click some inside pics

of some details of my house~

 

 

~I like bringing the outdoors In,

so I have the yahoos go out and cut some pine pieces for me

to put in a vase--

they last a long time

smell great

and they're

FREE!~

I just painted last week--

I'll post before an afters

when I'm all done--

but for now,

the walls are Sherwin Williams "wheatgrass" color

( did you know Dutch Boy from Walmart

is the same exact paint as Sherwin Williams?

 It is, and it's cheaper!)

okay,

and the brown is Dutch Boy's

"Chocolate Truffle"

I love it.

The hole in the wall

is too narrow to place a TV in it,

so I found the gorgeous fern

and there ya go.~

I have found the fabric I want to make floor to ceiling curtains from--

Waverly makes it,

so I'll make those next week probably.

I looked EVERYWHERE for the right fabric

and finally decided on one.

Do your kids hate fabric stores as much as mine do?

Hey, if I have to go to the Toy Aisle,

for the billion-th time,

they can go with me to JoAnns.

I have a thing for pinecones.

I would have to seek professional counselling

to find out why

but I'm not really concerned

about my obsession

that much

to know the answer.

One of my fav art peices from Dani

before her mission--

there's actually a story behind this--

wanna hear it?

If not, just skip this part to the next picture.

So Dani was thinking about going on a mission--

and we were having a Missionary Fireside

at our home,

at the end of the fireside,

different folks were sharing their testimonies,

and Dani stood and shared hers,

and at the end,

she announced that she'd turned in her mission papers.

Sucha sweet surprise!
Then, on Christmas eve that year,

she presented me with this beautiful picture.

ta-da.

Say What plate on the fridge

Pot Roast for tonight.

I don't wanna cook

because when Mr W gets home,

I'm going to my first ever

ZUMBA class at the YMCA!
I am so stinkin excited to try it!

I love to move it move it!

~Flowers I received on Mother's Day

from Daisie~

One of my Mother figurines...

I've had this For.ev.er.

So that's it for today.

I've got things to do

places to go

people to see!

Have a Great Day!

I hope it's not snowing where you are!!

Twilight Years & My Dad Part 2

Spoke to my brother Keir tonight.
He has a plan.
After a long day with our Dad,
he sat Dad down and laid it all out--
he said
"take a good look around you, Dad
because this is your last day here.
Pack up your important things
because tomorrow,
you're moving.
I'm gonna leave you here one more night
(because my Dad wouldn't leave there today),
but come tomorrow,
you will leave this place."

Keir said he had to repeat it a few times,
until he thought Dad understood him.
Keir said,
"I even used you Sis, I hope you don't mind.
I told him 'Dad, if you don't come with me,
Dawn's coming to Georgia,
and you don't want her to come here
and see you like this.'"

So that's when Dad nodded his head
and Keir thinks he made the point.

So yeah, Keir's moving Dad to
Georgia
closer to him
in a nice apartment
near his work
so he can check up on Dad
and make sure he's doing okay.

I'm ready to go whenever he wants me to,
so we'll see...
I can't wait to hear that Dad's moved out
of that situation.
I feel optimistic tonight.
We've made some progress today.

Thanks to everyone for your encouraging words.

Twilight Years and My Dad

I've been on the phone for days now,
trying to get my elderly father into
"the system"
for his own good.

My brother who lives closest to Dad
is helping on the physical side of things
as much as he can.

I arranged weeks ago
for my Dad to receive food
from
Meals on Wheels
because I'd heard he wasn't eating right,
and Dad calls me every Monday to let me know
he's received it.
So that was good,
but we're a long ways from being where we
want to be.

This is what I know
from talking to a Senior Solutions specialist,
Jennifer--
my dad's hot water heater is out
he turned off his own water because
the hot water heater was leaking
so much
that the flooring in his trailer is rotted out.
My dad is dehydrated,
and has dementia.
My brother tried to take Dad
to a doctor's appointment,
that I set up,
but once he got there,
it was discovered that Dad declined
full coverage on Medicare/aid.

The nurses at the Doctor's office
suggested my brother take my Dad
to an ER
because of his state of being.

I have been on the phone most of the morning--
since 5:30AM my time,
7:30AM SC time
trying to piece all of this together
so I can direct my brother
to the proper authorities.

He's been calling me between stops
and we're sharing and comparing
whatever information we have...
I keep thinking there's got to be
an easier way to do this!
So many businesses have their fingers
in the care of elderly
but you have to know who to talk to first
to get the ball rolling.

Last stop was the Dept of Social Security--
Jennifer says Dad should qualify for
emergency placement
thru
Adult Protective Services
because of his living conditions
and poor health.
That was a half an hour ago.
I'm praying that it's the last stop
at the right place
so my Dad can get the care he needs
today.
Today.
Because the thought of him living like this
is awful.
If you knew my Dad at all,
you'd know this is not who he is.
He was the most vain man
I've ever met--
his clothes were always pressed,
his hair in place--
he was a legend in his own mind,
a "lady's man".

Jennifer said Dad even tried to
"hit on" her yesterday
when she visited with him.
We both laughed at that--
so typical of him.
He's nearly 70 years old
and he's still coming on to women.
Hearing that, actually made me feel better--
he's still got that in him
so he's not totally lost inside his world.

What does society do with the Elderly
in our communities?
Not the ones living on fat pensions
who drive their RV's all over the world
and spend their kids' inheritance--
but the ones like my dad
who have nothing left because his dementia
went un-noticed or un-diagnosed for so long
too long
until whatever he did have
is gone.
What happens to these people?

I am ready to go to SC
at a moments' notice--
but I want to go when I can
help my dad move
and get settled into a new place--
there seems to be a whole lot of steps before that
can happen.
I'm grateful that my brother is there
right now,
forging the path to that end.
He says I won't recognize my father.
He's a shell of what he used to be.

I am nervous about seeing Dad...
his ego was as big as the steaks he ordered...
so big and full of himself
when I was a child.
Whenever I talk to him on the phone
he is like a child.

I thought this would've been easier
that I would've been there and back by now--
I hope so much that we're on the right path
today.
My Dad deserves that much,
even tho he tells me and Jennifer and the other social worker, Shannon
that he's going to hell because he was a horrible husband and father.
I told him that he's not going to hell,
and he doesn't need to think that way.

It's odd to hear him speak ill about his own self.
He never did before.
He was always right.
Always.
Shannon said it's common to hear elderly people
speak about themselves in a critical light--
it's a time of reckoning for some
in the twilight of their years.

LATER:

IN a twist of events I didn't see coming,
my father declined every offer of help
today.
He refused every attempt for
insurance
medical care
residential relocation
all of it.

And now I have to go the route
of having him declared incompetent
for his own safety.
I tried to talk to him,
coax him into letting those there
help him--
even offerring to fly down there
immediately
and he refused.

Now What?

Dear Memory,

Where are you?
I haven't seen you in eons.
You used to be my constant companion.
My Rock.

You held all things dear and precious to me...
my comings and goings
from when I was but a babe,
through my childhood
adulthood
mommyhood.

I could count on you
to keep me
outta trouble
up-to-date
on time
and
on top of things.

Lately tho,
you are nowhere to be found.
Forcing me to write sticky notes
all over the house
using white boards
upstairs and down...
writing notes on my hands
and in my phone
and on my desktop pc...
notes about
eating
and sleeping
appointments
have-tos
and want-tos...
and this just stinks.

I am assured that I will always be blessed
with a keen mind
able to recall things of importance...
so Memory
you need to come back now.
I have alot more living to do
and without you
I am lost.

Thou Shalt Not Whine

We have become a Nation
a Society
of
prissy-pants
cry baby
whiners.

Turn on the TV
and more than half
of the broadcasts
are negative.

Even Blogging
has become
a public
soapbox
for personal
whinage.

Everyone wants
validations
appreciation
recognition
from others.

And I'm wondering
if all this
venting
dumping
vomiting
is doing anybody
any good?

I have to think
it is.
That expressing our
grief
loss
anger
dissapointment
in our personal blogs
is better for us
and cheaper than
professional therapy.

But if everyone who comments
blows smoke up your bum
commisserates too well
--
I wonder if perspective
is lost?

I don't know the answer
I'm just putting this out there.

So here's my advice to the people in my life, who shall remain anonymous on here,
but they know who they are:

1-Sign the papers. Get it over with and move on. She isn't going to suddenly become sane again and be who you want her to be. Stop wasting your time and money on her selfishness.

2- Grow up. Stop living in the Past and regurgitating all that mess. Noone talks to you because we can't handle constant vomitage...it gets nauseating after awhile.

3- Drugs have eaten your brain and your heart. And until you get help, like real professional help, you will die alone and miserable.

4- Circumstances are not going to change. The only thing you can control is how you handle them. And I wouldn't wanna be you for all the chocolate in Belgium.

5- He's exactly who you think he is. period. You enable him. So stop that.

6- Someone needs to tell you to stop blaming your Mom for your choices. You're not a kid anymore and those excuses are tired and old.

7- I love you, but your negativity reveals your immaturity. Grow up already. If you want that picture-perfect marriage, you need to be honest about what you are and what you want.

8- Excuses are not subtitutes for hard work and doing your part.

9- If you don't want to be a member of the church you chose to belong to, then stop talking about how miserable you are, and go somewhere else. Or live it. I'm tired of reading how put-upon you are by your husband because he doesn't let you "question" enough, etc. Find out for yourself what it means to live your faith and stop looking around for someone to blame for your wishy-washy-ness.

That's it. I'm not going to whine on this blog anymore. And I'm not gonna follow those who whine either. Figuring things out is one thing, but consistently whining about how unfair life is, and picking cheerios out of the carpet is frankly boring. You don't want your child to throw their juice bags on the floor, teach them not to. Want your kids to stop walking all over you?--stand up to them and let them find their own strength--they'll thank you for it later, I promise.

Enough. Let the Sun Shine in....

I Pray For You...oh yes, I do!

My new favorite song...

A Momza's Mother's Day

My "Saturday" Mother's Day
was mixed:
Dean was here, courtesy of Mr. W driving
over an hour to Loveland to pick him up Friday night--
I love having Dean home.
Yesterday,
the 4 youngest yahoos
and Mr. W and I went to see
"Iron Man 2"
and KFC cooked dinner for us.
That was the good stuff.
I hit a rocky patch
with two of my older yahoos
but
Then this morning I was greeted by
breakfast in bed:
an omelet and fresh fruit, bagel and OJ (extra pulp!)
and then this:

The Caboose, Boofus, Daisie and Dean

welcomed me to the

~"Momza's Day Salon"~

I was blind-folded for the whole thing.

Should I read something into that?

Cucumber stress-relief eyepads

covered by a cool eye mask.

I asked outloud,

"Anyone know if eyeballs can freeze?"

Ahhh the footbath too...

Boofus had some fun

with my fingers and

toe pads

Dean loved rubbing my tootsies with

this foot scrub stuff...

Daisie coached Dean painting my toes.

Glumps are no big deal today.

Different mask...they put on some really nice instrumental music and

I played

"Name that Tune"...

love story

Another day in Paradise

Alfie's Song

Fascination

theme from Dr. Zhivago

cool stuff

I so could've taken a nap,

if there hadn't been so much

giggling.

The Caboose gave it a go

Like I said, glumps don't matter today.

Photos courtesy Mr. W

Mr. W has donned his barbeque apron

aka his jeans

and is cookin up dinner.

And pie...

there's even pie.

Then I have a four hour round trip ride

to take Dean home tonight.

Life is good.

A Motherheart Journey

Every day my heart takes a journey.
ON this Mother's Day,
I take a moment and reflect on
what being a Mother means to me.

With seven children,
it would be impossible for me
to look in the mirror and see
anyone else
but a Mother.

This Mother Journey I have chosen
has been akin to travelling
the world.
From the greatest depths of the sea
and the grandest heights of mountaintops,
to the parched deserts of Sahara
and swamped marshes of the Everglades.

I have been many places in my life
from one coast to the other
and across the Pond
and back a few times.

As much as I love travelling
and soaking in those places
making my own
"Kodak moments"--
the place I am my best
is where my family gathers
at home.

My travels have taken me to
bright white beaches--
Where my children joyfully jumped into
foamy waves
squealing with delight,
filling their shoes with sand
and my soul with joy.


I have been to Edinburgh
and sat on the Castle
looking out over the Firth of Forth
with sun rays dancing off
my child's head
that lay sleeping in my lap--
breathing in that moment
locking it in my memory.


I have sat at the edge of a campfire
high up in the Rockies of Colorado,
listening to the crackling wood
and giggles
of little voices and
runaway flashes of light
beaming from inside a happy
glowing tent...
knowing that
Life is good.
Staring up at a midnight sky
full of stars
and counting my blessings
that began with my firstborn
and
knowing many gifts
have yet to come into my sphere--
feeling like father Abraham,'
whose posterity number as the sands
of the earth...
my blessings are so many.

I have moments
of gratitude--
whether it's in the grocery store--
"thank you for our bounty"
or driving up to the house--
"thank you for this shelter"
or cruising up to see Dean at his host home--
"thank you for helping me take care of my son.
thank you for those who help him."
or buying clothing for my children--
"thank you for being able to provide for my babies"
or reflecting on past experiences--
"thank you for preserving my life and my children's lives."

--all of these little moments, add up and
fill me with gratitude
because I know

I know
that there are Mothers all over the world
who mourn over their children,
who cannot give their children food and shelter
clothing and medical attention...
and there,
but for the grace of God
go I,
as my Baptist roots have taught me.
I don't want to take my blessings for granted,
and life has taught me that I cannot.


The truth is,
wherever my children are,
my heart is also...
as the youngest leave for school each morning,
my eyes follow them out the door
down the street to the bus stop
and my heart goes to school every day.


My heart also lingers
in Meridian, Idaho
where David Scott and Tisha live...
I can't help it,
there is no retrieving possible.


Up and down the Front Range of the Rockies
my heart
takes a journey each morning
as I say my prayers...

to Dean's house near the Devil's backbone,
and south to
Dani and Mr. Idaho's little
student apartment
where the Golden child lives...
and back down the mountain range
to my own corner of the world.

Every day,
my heart takes a journey.
This Mother Journey
is my life.

It is what I have been sent here to
BE.
To DO.
I may yet travel to many places
in this life,
but the journey is only worth it
if my family is along with me.

Three Things

Three things I learned from my Mother:

1- Be adaptable to your environment.

2- Leave the Past in the Past.

3- Good manners can open doors that a good education cannot.

Three things I learned from my Children:

1- Don't compare yourself to anyone else. I quote David Scott, at 5 years old: "I am my own self."

2- Noone likes a know-it-all. Arianna, "I know somethings too, Mom. Let me show you."

3- Sharing is necessary to build relationships.  Diana, "I haven't seen my shoes on my own feet this week, Dara's always wearing them."  Dara, "That's cause Dani borrowed mine and hasn't given them back yet."

Three things I learned from my Mr. Wonderful:

1- We can handle anything with enough time, money or laughter.

2- Not everyone needs to hear every thought in my head.

3- Jumping to conclusions before you know the whole story is dumb.

What about YOU? 
Can you name three things you've learned from your family?

Let's Move Mother's Day!

I have a confession to make.
And I may as well open this can of festering worms right here--
I hate that Mother's Day is on
a Sunday.

Sunday--
the busiest day of my week
is no "day of rest" for me.
It never has been.

Church.
Mother's Day is the underdog
when it comes to Sundays
because of Church.
It doesn't matter what time the meetings
begin,
it takes precedence
over
Mother's Day.

An experience to illustrate my point:
In preparation for Mother's Day
one year
I determined to MAKE it a
Day of Rest for myself
by laying out the children's sunday clothes
the night before,
cleaning the heck outta the house
on Saturday,
and did every stinkin thing I could
to make sure
I got my wish for Mother's Day...
which was:
TO GET DRESSED BY MYSELF
and DRESS ONLY MYSELF
for Church.
That was simply enough, right?
It was better than macaroni necklaces
and runny eggs with burnt toast.

Apparently,
it is not possible
to get dressed by yourself
and only dress yourself when
you are a mother of young children.

Come Sunday morning,
shoes disappeared,
socks vaporized,
buttons blew off,
zippers wouldn't zip,
hair brush fairies descended upon
our domain
and stole every hairbrush and comb
within a three block radius.
In short,
it was
Pandemonium!

There was weeping
wailing
and
gnashing of teeth
out in the family room.
I could hear it from my bathroom
where I stood
trying to put on mascara--
coaching myself to
"Stay put. Let him deal with it.
Do not go out there!"
The chaos grew,
and tears started flowing,
then before I knew it,
I stood in front of the whole heehaw gang
and bellowed:
"ALL I'VE EVER WANTED WAS TO BE A WIFE
AND MOTHER!!, then dragging a finger in front of them,
AND YOU PEOPLE ARE RUINING MY EXPERIENCE!"

Their faces dropped,
eyes wide open
staring in disbelief at Mommy
standing there in her slip
mascara in one hand,
finger pointing in the other.

I lost it.
I was trying to hold it all in,
but I couldn't.
A giggle escaped.
Then another and another
until I was laughing so hard,
I was outta control.

The troops joined me
in laughing at the ridiculousness
of my statement.

Mother's Day.
Should not be on Sunday.

I decided that last night
as Mr. Wonderful and I lay in bed
and he asked,
"What do you wanna do for Mother's Day?"
I thought for a moment
and said,
"Let's have a big barbecue on Saturday,
and celebrate it then.  Sunday's are too busy."
Mr. Wonderful sighed,
"Sounds good to me." then yawned
and rolled over to sleep.

Sounds good to me too.
I can sleep in...
o wait, no I can't--
we still have the missionaries over
for breakfast.
Shoot.
BUT, I can go BACK to bed
when they leave.
See?
--this is looking better already.
And for a laugh, here ya go:

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.

NieNie...Lifting where she stands...

I don't know Stephanie Nielsen.  I first heard about her and her husband, soon after I began blogging and after their plane accident.  Now, I see her often in places I didn't expect her--on Oprah and the Today Show for example.  I don't know her, but I love her. 
Nie Nie is a member of the same church I am.  And this video is now available on You Tube.  Take a moment and soak her goodness in...it will make you smile and hug your loved ones much tighter today.

Unemployment to Employed to Employing

IN order to give this post substance,
here's a little background:

In 2006, our family moved to Idaho
with a new job.
We knew we were supposed to move to Idaho
three years before we got the opportunity,
so when the job offer came,
there was no question that we would GO!

Exactly, one year later
we found ourselves unemployed...
along with thousands of others in the
Treasure Valley.
At first I thought it was going to be a
leisurely summer
having Mr. Wonderful home
and didn't sweat the unemployment.

I figured we'd have a few weeks together
and he'd be re-hired before we knew it.

I was wrong.

Summer flew by,
no job.
School started,
no job.
A son's wedding was planned
for December,
"Surely", I thought,
"We'll have a job by Christmas!"--
no. no we didn't.

I set these mental notes--
"by Valentines. By April fools.
By the time our daughter came home from
her mission, in April. By Summer Break."
No. No. No. No.

I would be lying if I said it wasn't difficult.
That I didn't cry in despair...
that I wondered how this was all gonna work out.

Trials come and go,
this is true.
We all know this,
but if you think about it,
what we really wanna know
about our trials
is this:
How bad is it gonna hurt?
right?

Well our Idaho Experience cost us alot,
but we didn't leave empty-handed.
It required all of our savings--
we're so grateful we had it!
But we came away from Idaho with
two new family members...
a daughter-in-love
and a son-in-love.


After a year of sending off resumes
filling out applications,
working part-time,
we knew something had to change.
It was time to go.
When we made the decision to cut our losses
and come back home to Colorado,
the future was up in the air.

We came back home
with heavy hearts.
We'd been through alot since we'd been gone
for two years.
We hoped we'd never forget what we learned
as a family
and as individuals
from our Idaho Experience,
but also,
that we'd recover from our losses.

It sanctified us and we wanted to keep it that way.

It's been almost two years
since we've been home.
Mr. W got a job 3 days after he came looking for one
in Denver.
He just got a promotion.
And guess what he does now?
One of his responsibilities is to
Interview and Hire
new Employees.

Every week
he comes home with a story
or two
about persons he's hired...

One man showed up for temp work
and another man just showed up
unexpected and unannounced,
with him--
Mr. W let them both work that day.

The second man wasn't qualified to
continue to work the next day
and that made us both sad.

But Mr. W knew that look in the man's eyes...
and did what he could--
and his eyes teared up telling me about it.
I was a bit choked up too.

Yesterday,
two women (sisters) came in for interviews--
both are Russian immigrants.
Mr. W told HR to hire them both.
When the younger sister was offerred the job,
she started crying.

Tears are in my own eyes as I write this.
I know that feeling.
We've been there.

Times are hard.
Good people with good hearts
and true work ethics
are unemployed
and day after day
they wonder what's going to happen to them.


We have to be kind
to look beyond our own noses--
beyond the edge of our own sidewalks
and agendas.
A little kindness goes so far.


There are angels in Boise.
They lifted me up
and buoyed my family
when we need the help.
Our faithful hometeacher,
Brother Robertson,
our Bishops--
Philips and Rodgers,
wonderful Visiting Teacher,
Sister Robertson,
and Relief Society President,
Sister Hardy...
along with our dear new friends
the Sylvesters and Frogleys
and so so many others.

Once we got home,
it was our dear friends
here that shouldered our
burdens and helped us see
that things were going to be okay.

All of these
were truly answers to our prayers.
Truly.


We just bought a new sofa set this week.(remember, the dog ate our loveseat?)
As I was paying for it at the store,
I physically felt awful--
nauseas, anxiety--
the sales gal looked at me and asked if I was okay,
I smiled
and said,
"Well, I just haven't spent this kind of money
in a long time because my husband was out of work
awhile back,
and I'm a little nervous about spending money like this."

She answered, "I know. My husband has been out of work for six months and we just don't spend money on anything we don't have to."

Instantly, I saw her in a different light.

Then, to lighten the mood, I said,
"Oh shoot. I bet you're wishing I'd gone for the leather set now, hunh?"

We both laughed.
 I kept her card. I'm writing a nice letter to her boss,
and to her just to go out of my way to thank her and recognize her help.
 Any little kindness helps, right?

Okay, now I'm just rambling.
I'm too lazy to edit this,
so if you're still here
I hope it made sense.

Be kind.  Bottom line.
Be Kind.

Pillow Shams

The Caboose's teacher asked if
I'd sew some pillowshams
for a reading circle in the classroom.
She got the pillowforms at JoAnn's (on sale)
and set me loose
to make the shams.

She wanted them bright and happy
and durable
for the classroom.
I had the floral watercolor fabric leftover
from a window valance I made for the Caboose's bedroom,

and then I found the bright green corduroy
at JoAnn's on sale for a whopping $2.19...total.

Now here's something I did that make it super easy:
I cut the fabric
Once.
I laid it out and cut it the width I wanted,
then,
instead of cutting 4 peices,
I just folded it to a square
(wishing I had taken pictures now!)
and sewed around all four sides--
to make it look like 4 peices.
Because it's a sham,
I could do that
because there's still an opening in the center of the
fabric.
Did that make sense?

Anyway, it took me alot less time
than I thought it would
about an hour and a half
to make all four.

The teacher was happy. And the Caboose says she thinks of me whenever she looks at them or sits on them at school. That makes it totally worth it to me!

This blog is linked to Tidy Mom's I'm Lovin' It Friday

What kind of Flower are you?

I am a Snapdragon What Flower Are You?

"Mischief is your middle name, but your first is friend. You are quite the prankster that loves to make other people laugh."

Mr. Idaho's An NCAA All-Academic

Colorado School of Mines 

Wrestling team

 Last weekend we went up to Golden because Mr. Idaho was receiving a special award from the Colorado School of Mines, where he is a student.
That's his wrestling coach with him and Dani and a sleeping baby Garrett.

It was supposed to be nice weather up there,

and it would've been too,

if the wind hadn't been whipping down the canyon.

We all stayed bundled up.

jj

Mr. Idaho was being recognized by his coaches

because

* he always gives his best

*he was worthy of the NCAA All-American Academic

it was also noted that

*he is the only husband

and

*the only father

on the team.

...

We're so happy for you, Mr. Idaho.

Bonus pics of the Golden Child:

The Sign on the Shore

I stayed up late tonight,
talking to the 15 year old
about life.

She's at the age
where emotions are magnified
and perspective is in great demand.

I invite her to sit down
at the table
and talk
while I listen.
I even break out some
paper
to keep notes.
I tell her we're going to start with
a prayer,
then I bow my head.
to let her know
that she is the one who will
be offering it.
She asks Heavenly Father to help
us understand each other
and help her figure things out.

Her mood is serious.
She is struggling with things
that to her,
feel overwhelming.

She talked, I listened.
When we got through,
I wanted to keep my response
simple.

So I came up with a metaphor:
In Life,
we have challenges/problems/trials
that could fall into three different images:
Problems that resemble the breadth and depth of
an Ocean--
where our feet do not touch "bottom"
but where we are required to tread water
to keep our head above the waves.

Problems that resemble the breadth and depth of
a Lake-
rocky bottoms and drop-offs that we don't always know about,
and we may have to swim awhile,
but eventually,
we get to the shoreline for rest.

And Problems that resemble
a Pond-
not too deep,
but if you fall in,
you'll get a bit muddy and wet,
but
you can stand up most of the time
and walk out on your own.

While she is yet a teenager
of just fifteen years old,
her trials feel overwhelming
as though she is
in an Ocean--
barely clinging for air,
treading water,
fearing the next wave.


My experience has taught me
that when I see her in such a state,
I don't always toss a "life preserver"
her way,
but am more likely to say,
"Stand up and walk out."
Meaning, you can help yourself,
so do it.
At first, she was doubtful I understood
her plight.
That I was minimizing her troubles.
I wasn't trying to minimize them as much as help her
to see the differences.

My 19 year old, Nana sat at the table and told her,
"Mom's been around long enough to know
if you're drowning in an Ocean,
or just tumbled into a pond.
You just have to trust her on that."

Then she used her car wreck from last month
as an example:
She was freaking out about the whole thing--
the damaged car, the money or lack of money,
her hurt shoulder, etc.,--
all the while I was calmly telling her
things would work out,
no matter what the outcome,
this car wreck would not even make it in
the TOP 100 Memorable Things
in her life.
But she didn't believe me.
She thought I didn't understand.
Nevermind that I too, have been in car accidents before--
her experience was "different", she told Daisie.
But it wasn't, she admitted.
"Things have worked out,
and I wasted all that time just being depressed,
where, if I'd just listened to Mom,
it wouldn't have been so miserable.
I thought I was drowning in an ocean,
but Mom knew I was only in a Pond."


So we talked about examples of
Trials and Oceans....
An Ocean-sized trial is usually one that
changes your life.
Having a special needs child
was an Ocean for me.
It is a challenge that was not removed.
Instead, I had to learn to tread water
from the moment he was born.
My arms and legs and heart were made stronger
from the exercise it required.
As well as my faith.


We talked about Lake-size trials--
those trials that catch us by surprise
but usually get resolved by some focused effort
in the right direction...
like swimming to a shoreline.
We are made stronger by the effort
and find out what our strengths and talents are
in the process.

Then, there are the Pond-size trials--
most are just little annoying
everyday learning trials...
things that occur simply because we are human--
learning how to grow up
and be happy
and healthy
kind of trials.

The truth is,
trials come in all sizes.
But here's the predictable thing about trials:
More often than not,
They Pass.

We're going to fall/stumble
into many more Ponds
than Oceans and Lakes.
And it's helpful to know that
on the edge of every ocean shore
or lake shore,
there's a sign posted:
NEVER SWIM ALONE.

We need help in our trials.
And we can turn to the Savior of the World,
the Creator of all Oceans and Lakes and Ponds--
and He will help us make it to the shoreline,
to refuge and safety.

It reminds me of the quote:
Sometimes the Lord calms the Sea,
Sometimes He calms the Sailor,
and sometimes He lets you swim.