Phoning Home

Sometimes when you think you're doing just fine on your own, you realize that you're not on your own, and you weren't just fine. This week, I had a bad week. It started out great.

On the weekend, our son called a couple of times to let us know:

 1) He'd gotten his first set of orders because he was almost finished with sonar school. He is going to Guam to serve on a fast attack submarine for three years. I was very excited for him; he was very excited, too.
2) Then, on Sunday night he called to say he'd proposed to his girlfriend and they were thinking of marrying before he leaves in six weeks. (The new plan is for the wedding to be next summer.)

Whew!!

That was a lot to process in just two days. I was thinking "Guam!!" That's really far away. And he'll be under the ocean a lot. This is my baby boy we're talking about here. Well, okay, he's  not a baby anymore. He's nearly 30 and over six feet tall. And this submarine gig is what he's been working toward for over a year now. (That's a bad thing about motherhood: you're still the mother, but you have to just let them go.) So, I'm excited for him to jump into this career that he's chosen. Also, I really, really like the girl he's marrying. She's just right for him. So all this is great stuff. But somehow, my weird body took all the excitement and turned it into stress.

I woke up Monday morning with a vicious knot in a muscle right where my left shoulder meets my neck. It felt as though a knife were sticking in it. I stretched and twisted and rubbed and pulled. But nothing I could do would relieve this pinch. I take a daily long-release anti-inflammatory, so I couldn't take more. I tried Tylenol, and it helped a little. The next morning it was worse, and each day it felt terrible as soon as I got out of bed and went downhill from there. Sigh.

By Thursday, I was pretty miserable. I had a dreadful day, with the nadir being my first afternoon class for whom the lesson didn't click. Not only did they not get it, but they were apparently all afflicted by Squirrel Brain (which is a condition that happens to nine year olds when they don't want to work, so they act like squirrels: chattering and messing around and leaving the teacher feeling NUTS!) By the time I got home Thursday, I was exhausted from pain and aggravation. Friday loomed ominously before me. I laid on the couch with a heat pack on my shoulder/neck knot.

Friday was scheduled to be Science Lab Day. Every three weeks, I do a lab activity. I always do the labs because I love to do them, and the reading and math teachers have far too many standards in their subjects to spend even one day doing Science. Plus, I can always have them write about our experience later, and it's good to have participated in the event so I can prompt them. But, how was I going to do Science Lab Day when my shoulder hurt so much and I was, as a result, short tempered and cranky? It wouldn't work.

Friday morning, I got up, dressed and knelt to pray. I apologized for being so stubborn and arrogant that I had given up praying for several weeks. I apologized for being so unhappy and upset that I didn't want to pray and feel better. There are some things that are very upsetting to me the last few years. I begged God to let me have a good day at school. I pleaded that I could be calm, pleasant, and let the students enjoy this day. They were all anticipating it so much. I asked that my pain could be minimized so that I could keep a good attitude.

The rest of the day, I felt no pain there. I didn't even realize it until I sat down at the end of the day, in complete exhaustion. We'd had a terrific day. We accomplished a lot of science (the properties of water and observing the differences in density in hot and cold water.) It was an action packed day. I'd been on my feet all day, I'd run around the room monitoring and supervising three different classes doing these investigations and --- not once --- did I even remember I'd had a pinched muscle that had been in a perpetual cramp all week.

As I sat there reading my e-mails after the students all left, I felt a little twinge in my shoulder. It was starting to come back. I got home and was ready for the couch and the hot pack. (Yes, I'm seeing the doctor next week.)

So this evening, I sat and listened to the Relief Society broadcast, and heard Sister Reeves talk about "casting your burden upon the Lord." I sang "I marvel that He would descend from His throne divine, to rescue a soul so rebellious and proud as mine. " I realized that my Father in Heaven might get a cramp in His neck sometimes because His daughter is always trying to go it on her own. And she doesn't need to. He's there. He's reaching out. He waiting by the phone. All I have to do is reach back. All I have to do is ask.

I needed to have a good Friday. It's terrible that I almost didn't pray for help. But, I've been so rebellious and proud that I felt embarrassed. I've been out of touch and not phoning home. Yet, when I did ask for something --and it was mostly for the students--I got an answer to that prayer that was instantaneous. It wasn't subtle at all. I had no pain all day. When school ended, it came creeping back. It's back now...but I needed it gone on Friday. I asked for help and I got it. I feel like I was Daniel in the lion's den. Angels came and held the Pain Lion's mouth shut all day. Wow.

Cast your burden upon the Lord, and He shall sustain thee.

The Phantom of the Ceiling Fan

Our ceiling fan is haunted. The one in the living room, I mean.

It, like every fan in every room of our house, is one of those with the lights and fan combo, so you can have the fan alone, the lights alone, or both lights and fan on at the same time. We usually have the fan rotating, because it circulates the air-conditioning. And, on those rare weeks in the winter, we use it to keep the heated air moving through the room. During the several months when we don't need cooled air or heated air, but can just enjoy the pleasantness of the fresh outdoors, we also keep the ceiling fans on then to draw in that lovely natural air.

However, the one in the living room seems to have a problem. About half of our fans use a remote control, so that you can set the status and the speed of the blades. Something, or someone, is using the remote in that room to mess with me. And it isn't CoolGuy, who sometimes finds it amusing to manipulate the T.V. remote sound, causing me wonder what is going wrong with my hearing.

Ever since we moved in here, at random times, the living room lights would just turn on. The first time it happened, I was home alone. I walked into the living room from the bedroom to find that the lights attached to the fan were blazing away. It freaked me out. I was supposed to be the only person in my house. Who had turned on those lights? Then, a day or two later, as I sat watching television, they turned themselves on again. And there was DEFINITELY no one else in the house. And no one manipulating the remote. Hmmm....I changed the batteries, thinking that might be the problem.

Apparently that is not the cause. For the seven years we've lived here, those dopey lights will occasionally just turn on. Lately the fan has become involved. Sometimes, it will speed up, or slow down, or shut off altogether. We'll be sitting there watching a show, and---like the heavens have opened---light will suddenly bath me from above. Or, the fan will kick into overdrive--whirring as fast as it can. Bizarro.

Recently, CoolGuy tells me that the lights came on as the garage door opened, which I had caused by using the clicker in the truck. I'd just arrived home from work, and I walked into the house and he pointed out that maybe there was a correlation there. We're just not sure, because it certainly doesn't happen every time someone opens the garage door with the remote in a vehicle. And we know our neighbor's remote doesn't open it, because they don't have a garage door remote control opener.

Who knows what's causing it?  CoolGuy's engineer impulses urge him to figure it out. But...we may need to engage the assistance of Someone Else. Maybe the Phantom knows!!

Seriously??

Okay, there is a really big pimple growing on my chin, just below my lip. It's taking its time, too. A big red dot that is finally developing a pointy part...

However, I no longer have anything like Clearasil or Oxy 10 or anything like that in my medicine cupboard. I mean, why would I??

Instead, I have herbal compounds to help calm down hot flashes. I have wrinkle cream to help smooth out my turkey neck skin. I have arthritis anti-inflammatory cream. I have digestive aides.

But---zit cream?? That is so last decade in this house. So, I'll just have to wait it out. But, come on...isn't there supposed to be time when you don't have to deal with skin blemishes? Can't teenager-hood be over with, finally? Sheesh...

Celebrate Her

I'm sure there are several reasons to celebrate on September 15. The chief reason for me is my daughter. It's her birthday! Here are a few of the great photos taken by her dad as the years went by. I'm just including a few, because there are hundreds and hundreds...we enjoy them quite often.

 

 

San Diego 1981

 

 

Santa Barbara 1992

 

Provo 2004

 

Morocco 2005

 

Orem 2011

 

 

Port Hueneme/Malibu 2012

 

She bakes championship pies. She does triathlons. She loves cats. She is a nurse...very soon: a nurse practioner. She is the greatest auntie in the world. She is a loyal sister, daughter and friend.

Have a happy day!!

 

Life---Going On

This week and a half has sped by so fast, that I was startled that it had been so long since I wrote a post. Lots of things have occurred, most of them mundane and ordinary. Some were rather stimulating. Let me just post a few paragraphs that, if I were a faithful Facebooker, I'd have posted as a status.

**On Tuesday it started raining about 1:30 in the afternoon, and it lasted for nearly an hour. It was one of those gully washers that the desert is famous for, when the heavens open and it just dumps water down. It almost doesn't even qualify as "rain" so much as a deluge. We went outside when school ended (grateful that the sky was clearing) and out on the street we could see that our crosswalk was one of the few spots that wasn't submerged. There was an enormous brown flood from wall to wall just south of our school's entrance. Really---wall to wall---from one side of the street to the other side. Our principal went out there to help our students find a way around it, and to keep a little order. As we helped children and their parents to leave the school safely, we saw a helicopter hoving nearby. It was notable because it wasn't the usual sight-seeing helicopters on their way back from the Grand Canyon, nor something from the air force base. It wasn't a news copter, nor the police. It turned out to be a rescue helicopter that was about a mile from our school, scooping a few people from their flooded cars along a street that had been completely inundated by the overflowing flood control channel into which vast amounts of water was still cascading from the storm drains. It was crazy! I got back into the office, and there were 12 children waiting there whose parents couldn't get to the school because of the flooding near their homes. Even today, three days later, there are swathes of gravel and dried mud all along the streets on this east side of Las Vegas from that flash flood-inducing rainstorm from Tuesday.

** I was so tired last night, that I simply went to bed at 9:30 and fell so fast asleep that when I awoke at 12:30 for bathroom visit, I felt that I'd slept for ten hours! It's true: the hours you sleep before midnight are more restful than those after midnight. I went back to bed and got six more hours. I had a GREAT day today, after all that sleep. I should try for that every night, huh? (oops...11:00 P.M. already.)

**For some reason this week, we got into a conversation at school in one class that ended with me noting that Mr. CoolGuy has a pair of cowboy boots for church, another pair for every day, a pair of sandals and a pair of hiking boots. (I forgot about his Uggs...) Anyway, there was a boy who was astounded--maybe scandalized--that CoolGuy has cowboy boots for church. He just couldn't believe it. I pointed out that we are from Wyoming, and in Wyoming lots of men wear cowboy boots to church. In fact, there are probably lots of men in Nevada who wear cowboy boots to church. When you grow up on a horse in the "Cowboy State," what else would you wear to church? The things that fascinate fourth graders...

**Is it November 6th yet? Nevada is a "swing state" so we are awash with political ads and candidate visits. It's astonishing. Luckily, I have TiVo, so I can fast forward through the commercials. And there is an amazing selection of them. So, we'll be really glad to have this election finished. For other reasons, too, as well.

**Did  you know that cats exist just to use up all the excess bandwidth of the internet?

The Anniversary

Today is the anniversary of our family's founding: my parents were married 66 years ago today.(And I thank my oldest sister for her reminder e-mail this morning. I'd written the date on my white board and was thinking about them.) They were sealed in the Salt Lake City temple, and then lived in Salt Lake City for a several months where my mother worked as a secretary and my dad was a laborer. They moved back to their Wyoming childhood home to help my mother's dad who had injured his hand in a saw accident. My father had grown up on a farm, and was a hard worker, so he was an excellent choice to help with the spring planting and summer haying.

I've told this story before, and last year, I talked about their very different upbringing, even though they lived in the same rural community. However, I keep discovering what I learned from my parents as the years go by.

1) You should always speak kindly of one another to the rest of the world. I didn't ever hear my mother indulge in the "husband bashing" that is popular in today's world. Maybe it just wasn't done in her generation, but she certainly never talked down about my dad in my hearing. And he certainly was her Number One fan.

2) Help each other as much as you can. When I was a teen, I realized my mom picked out my dad's clothes every day, laying them on the bed for him, as he cleaned up from the morning chores. He'd dress in that outfit and go drive the school bus, then change back into his chore clothes when he came home. I thought it was just a manifestation of her bossiness. As a teen, I was hyper-sensitive to bossiness in a mother. But as an adult woman, I came to understand that he'd never had a "wardrobe" as a poor orphan, and he appreciated her helping him to dress appropriately. It allowed him to feel comfortable in his job and know that he looked professional. He did draw the line at pink dress shirts, however, when that fad came and went in the 70's.

3) Teach your children how to work, by working alongside them. I am eternally grateful to have learned how to work hard. I have succeeded in my life, over and over, by simply knowing that I can finish a difficult job by just persisting and not giving up. Neither of my parents gave up. They both supported each other in the endless tasks that parenting and farming presented. They had children living in their home for over 36 years. It's astonishing.

4) Keep the romance alive. As my mom she stood at the stove cooking a meal and he was passing by to wash up for that food, my dad would give her a little pat on the fanny,  or a hug and a kiss. She'd protest in a laughing voice, which clearly meant that she'd enjoyed it, but...not in front of the kids...They really liked each other. My mom fixed her hair daily and put on lipstick. She always dressed nicely and had some really cool Sunday clothes. He was very proud to be seen by her side. It was hard on both of them when his long illness turned her into his nurse. But it was a labor of love.

5) Help everyone else whenever possible. My parents fed a lot of people over the course of their lives. And I'm not just talking about the eight kids they produced. Many Sundays, an old bachelor guy was picked up by my dad and brought home after church to eat our mid-day feast. Daddy would also hire a mentally challenged man to help him with different laboring jobs during the week in the winter. His pay included a hearty meal, along with the few dollars he earned. We had an endless parade of relatives who dropped by in the summer for a meal. We had a little boy live with us one summer, the son of my dad's cousin. His family was having some type of trouble, so we just had an extra brother for a few months. Car trouble on the highway? Come to our house. New baby? My mother would bring food to you. Hay mower broken? My dad will share his. I realize that this was a community trait, but my parents never held back when the need arose to give service to others.

So, in honor of this date, I hope that you can think of your parents fondly, and think of ways that they set an example for you. And if that isn't easy, or even possible, then start today to build those good traits into your life, so that one day, your offspring can make a list about you.

Attention, Attention

I got a really important letter in the mail recently. At least, the sender wanted me to think it was Really Important. It was from a Really Important department. It even had an Official Looking Emblem on it. Here--look for yourself:

I mean, "Department of Issuance"--come on! Don't you love the serious looking eagle-like symbol in the return address? And the sort-of-official-ness of the government-yellow envelope? And if you don't look closely, you might mistake "issuance" for "insurance"...

Oh, and the inside is quite good, too. I'm informed that this is an Important Notice of Benefit Entitlement and that I must Read This Document Carefully.  And my "Status" is:

Our records indicate that you have not responded to our previous attempts to notify you of your eligibility.
 
I probably failed to respond because none of the other attempts were as ridiculously presented as this one, so I just tossed them in the trash without taking time to make fun of them on the internet. How this for a response?

Git Along, Little Students

We've got two days of school under our belts, and we're having a good year so far. There are a couple of challenges:  two of our students just moved here from Mexico. The boy can get along in English, but the girl says nothing, and apparently understands nothing, in English. Whew...We've got the usual selection of "regular" nine year old boys, for whom sitting in a desk all day is just pure torture. And we have a few who are struggling with their inner demons, who just need to jump around all the time, I guess. But, again, I'm an optimist, and I'm pretty sure we're going to have another fine year of learning here in Sin City.

For my fellow teacher friends, I submit the following:

(click on it for a larger view)

 

 

It Could Have Been Science

This is the last night of "summer." School starts here tomorrow morning. I think I'm ready. My room is set up, the papers are copied, the class lists are typed up. The name tags are ready to be applied. I tried on my "first day of school" outfit today after church, to make sure it looked professional, and yet I'd be comfortable. There will be no rest tomorrow. I'll be on my feet all day. I'll be "on" all day. CoolGuy will have the hot tub ready for me when I get home tomorrow evening. I'll be ready for it.

I went outside about 6:00 P.M. and got in the pool. It's still hot here in the desert. The high today was about 103, so the pool is still a wonderful place to be. I swam for a while, I sat on the edge and read the Sunday papers, then swam some more. It got dark. I'd turned on the spa before I swam the second time, so I crawled into the warm bubbling water, and laid back to stare at the darkening sky. Stars were beginning to appear. The moon is about 2/3 full, so I thought about Neil Armstrong for a while. I thought about how familiar the night sky is to me because of my childhood spent outdoors. I thought of all the things I'd learned just because I spent so much time outside. Then I thought of our downed tree at the school.

Wouldn't that have been great if we could have just left that big old tree lying there? It wasn't blocking the walkways, so it wasn't a hazard in that way. We adults were all just fascinated by it. Imagine how the kids would have reacted? We could have gone out there and examined the root system and seen how this desert tree didn't have a big deep main root. It was fed by a web-like system of shallow roots that spread out in a big pattern all around the trunk, so that any little bit of rain that came could be eagerly soaked up.

We could have made rubbings of the bark, and then peeled off a few chunks to see how thick it was, or if bugs lived under it, or if that was where the resinous scent came from when it was wet. We could have explored the branches and looked to see if there were birds' nests. Hummingbird nests are so small that you couldn't have seen them from the ground in that tall tree. But, we have quite a few hummingbirds in our school yard because we also have flowering plants, and every year we see the tiny fliers getting the nectar.

If the tree could have just been left there, we would have watched it start to decay. The leaves and small branches would have gone first, and then insects would have started living under the heavy trunk as they worked at turning that huge dead plant into their food. It would have been an interesting thing to chart each year, especially for first grade, who would have walked past it each day this year as they entered the door near their classrooms. And, as they progressed through the grades, they could have kept track of the tree, as it progressed toward it's final state of decaying matter.

But, nope. It was cut up and hauled away. A big tractor came in and smoothed over the hole that it left behind. There is just a big empty spot, that is scorching hot now as the sun bakes the bricks that form that wall. It used to be a pleasant shady place, with birds and insects. It could have been a fantastic science lab. But, no...is it the lawyers? Or someone's obsession with "neatness?" I don't know. But wouldn't it be cool if we could have used it for Science?

More Weather

We had a mini--hurricane on Tuesday night. We've been having thunderstorms lately, which are not uncommon in the summer in the desert. It was actually a rather nice, though humid, day with plenty of sunshine. But, by evening, the wind had picked up, which usually is an indication that a thunderstorm is on its way. Sure enough, by 8:00 P.M. the lightning was sizzling through the air above our block, and the thunder felt like it might crack the windows, it slammed through with such intensity and power.

The rain started up, dropping Oreo-sized drops on my patio, while my co-worker a few blocks away got hail stones, she told me the next day. The rain quickly increased and soon washed down on our street, but the wind got crazy. It didn't back off, but got more wild and blew with such ferocity that, instead of running down the gutters, the water on the pavement was picked up and blew in sheets ahead of the cars. Our palm trees were being bent to the left, their fronds forced out straight like pennants on a sailboat in a gale.

It raged like this for about 20 minutes, flinging shingles and shopping bags and the occasional piece of patio furniture across the neighborhood. Seriously--the next morning, some friends from church posted a photo of one lady's plastic chairs lying in the bottom of the other lady's pool after they were blow over the wall that separates their backyards.

I arrived at my school, for the first official day of Back To School for the teachers, to find one of my favorite trees like this:

 

It was lying on its side, across the side yard of our school. This sidewalk is the one that many teachers use to go in the door nearest to where we can access our mailboxes.

 

You can see how shallow the roots are, because it is a desert tree. The roots of this type of tree spread out in wide, not deep, pattern, the better to take advantage of the least bit of moisture that may reach the soil in which it is growing.

 

Part of the problem was that the tree had been growing all summer, without any trimming, so its branches were filled by the narrow leaves, creating a lush shady canopy. That lush greenery got really heavy, and then we got the mini-hurricane.

This was such a lovely tree. It was as tall as the roof of the school. It's one of those resinous plants that gave off a lovely scent on rainy day. Sigh...someone will have to come with a chainsaw and cut it up to get it out of the way of the students who will come on Monday. I almost wish that the yard workers won't get to it before that first day of school, because I know the students would be thrilled to see this huge tree lying on its side along the sidewalk they use to go up to the playground. It isn't really blocking the path, but it is pretty impressive.

 

You can see the wet sidewalk and puddles in the rocks. It rained so much, starting Tuesday night and then all day Wednesday, that we here in Las Vegas went from drought conditions to normal rainfall amount for the year in just one day. I took the long way home on Wednesday so I could drive past the flood control channel and see it filled and roiling. I wasn't disappointed. Today, all the water has drained away down to Lake Mead, and all that is left of our exciting day of monsoon-like weather is the drifts of dirt and gravel where the swift water raced along the streets or pooled up all across intersections. Everything else is clean and damp and the air is fresh and clear. Crazy weather!

It Rained

It rained in the desert a couple of nights ago. I'd seen the lightning zapping the mountains to the north as I came out of the temple. It was hot. My truck thermometer registered 105, at 9:00 P.M. It's August...it's going to be hot. I drove home, watching the lightning skitter over the sky as it slowly advanced toward our house. I'd been home about a half hour, when the thunder claps started on our block. The windows shook, it was so close. When the lightning lit up the whole yard around the house, I opened the front door so I could watch without being out there in it.

Soon, the sidewalk began to receive huge splashing raindrops, but very few of them. You could easily count them because there was enough space between each. I watched as each drop hit, spread out bigger than a quarter, and then immediately began to fade and evaporate until there was no evidence of its having been there. I realized the sidewalk was still so hot, that it took only seconds for the rain to dry up as it landed. I counted--ten seconds from splat to dry.

But then, the tempo of the rain picked up, new drops fell so quickly that I could no longer distinguish one wet spot from another. It started to drip off the roof, and soon it was pouring off in a stream. Roostertails of water flew from the car tires as people drove down the steaming street. In a moment, the sidewalk was puddling and a trickle ran off into rocky dirt so dry it couldn't absorb it for a few minutes.

The spicy scent of creosote and sage filled the fresh air that wafted across our street as the clouds unzipped. The leaves opened every pore to drink in the fleeting moisture, letting their pungent resins spread through the atmosphere. The splatter of the raindrops caused the palm fronds to wave gently and I breathed deeply the cool, fragrant smell of rain in the desert. The thermometer on the patio registered 88 degrees. It was 10:15 P.M.

Back in the Game

And by that, I mean the Cute Shoes game. I've always had weird feet, and I've always searched for cute shoes that would fit on my weird feet, and allow me walk in them. There are a lot of cute shoes out there.

 But I can't really wear most of them, especially now, because they don't offer the support need by my newly reconstructed tendons.

I don't have room in these for the icky new shoe inserts that I ought to wear. But mostly, I'm just not able to balance enough to wear heels like this. My toes aren't really helpful like they used to be. 



Even these cuties don't offer enough support, and I'd just be aching and limping if I wore them for  few hours.

However....CoolGuy was looking on-line recently, and found a website that offered clothes to people who love to go to certain car shows and have a particular taste in music: rock-a-billy. He was looking up the details for the Primer Nationals in Ventura, California, that is held on the Labor Day weekend each year. We went a couple of times and it is quite fun. The show is for cars and trucks older than 1968 and motorcycles 1969 and earlier. CoolGuy's bike is a 1969, so he sometimes thinks of entering it. I don't know if he'll enter it this year, but I think we'll still go. We lived in Ventura County for six years, and we'd really like to live there again, actually. But it is a fun weekend to take the motorcycle, and just spend a couple of days checking out old cars and motorcycles, and riding up and down the Pacific Coast Highway.

So, here's what CoolGuy found for me on this website:

Kitty Face Mary Janes!! Check out the tail below:

They are leather, they have those nice thick soles and they support my stupid feet very nicely. I've been wandering around the house wearing them since the FedEx guy dropped them off. I'm SO excited to wear them to school. Don't you want some, too??

Need An Idea for a Wedding Reception?

I went to the church on Saturday to practice for the Sunday hymns, and there was a wedding reception being created. I don't know who the bride and groom are. Apparently, there were a number of weddings on our side of town scheduled, and this couple had to book our building, because the buildings in their stake were all spoken for already. It's weird living here in almost-Mormonland, because the geographic size of the stake boundaries are so small, compared to most of the other cities in which I've lived. But, the decorator was busily working and I just wandered around admiring the theme.

The bride is enamoured of the "country" motif, and the groom, although not-so-much, signed off on the decor. It wasn't over the top, but actually really tasteful and I just wanted to share a few photos because it was so cute. And, hey, maybe one of you out there is planning a wedding and would like some ideas.

For example: the canning jar chandelier! I know I've seen this on some website, so it isn't original, but it is adorable. In the bottom of each jar is a battery powered votive candle. When it is dark, it will be illuminated and very attractive.

I didn't take a good close-up of these tables, sorry, but the centerpieces are also a series of jars, painted with matte paint, inside and out, in varying shades of brown and tan. And each grouping included a brown root beer bottle. The painted jars, which were all different sizes (some quart, some pint, some wide mouth, some narrow)--(they were canning jars and pickle jars and jam jars)--were filled with flowers later when the reception was about to start. Each jar was tied with ribbon or lace or raffia, and some had romantic sayings glued on in place of a label.

 (I sneaked back up there, just to see the final result, but there were lots of family members milling about, all dressed up, and even I didn't feel comfortable snapping pictures when no one knew why this weird lady wearing jeans was crashing their party... The flowers were in shades of orange and yellow and cream/white. They used snapdragons, daisies, sunflowers, mums. It was terrific!  There were flowers everywhere. Some of the vases were  hidden in cowboy boots placed around on the shelves and other decor surrounding the edges of the room.)

Also, notice the bows on the chair covers: wide burlap ribbons, tied into bows! The runner in the center of the table is burlap, too. They used burlap ribbons all over, some tied into bows, other strips were threaded on a string so that it formed twisted loops. It was very attractive. Along the side walls, there was a tall picket fence, natural old wood, and from the fence were hung photos of the bride and groom, pieces of country-stye decor (old lamps, rake and hoe, branding iron) and lovey sayings painted on wood posters. Here's one I especially liked:

They used the burlap and lace theme for hanging the photos and the pieces of decor on the fences, too.

You may be wondering, "What was the clothing theme?" Well, I just happen to know...The night before, I'd gone to the temple to be with a friend who was attending for her first time. Unfortunately, I lost my fabric envelope when it apparently fell out of my pocket, and even though we searched all over for it, it wasn't found. So, one of the nice ladies suggested that I return in the morning and check at the laundry because they have a Lost and Found there. So, on Saturday morning, as I was walking back out through the temple foyer, after successfully retrieving my newly laundered (!) fabric envelope, I saw two young adult women dressed in simple peach-colored, knee length lace dresses, wearing identical brown cowboy boots walking in the door. Hmmm...So that's what the bridesmaids are wearing, huh?

Anyway, it was very creative, cheerfully casual, and personal wedding reception decor. I hope the sweet couple had a pleasant wedding and that the party was as nice as the motif.

More Good Eats

This time I think I need to praise olives. Recently, we went to our favorite pizza place, Settebello, and I got the capricciosa: it features Greek olives, artichoke hearts, mushrooms, and thinly sliced Italian ham. As I was savoring the olives, I recalled my olive evolution.

As a little kid, we ate olives fairly often, as I recall. They were not just reserved for special event meals, like Thanksgiving or Easter. Although we always had them on those occasions. It was always black olives. Sometimes they had pits, but sometimes not, because I distinctly remember putting olives on my fingers, and you can only do that with the pitted kind. As usual, my mother was serving 10 people most of the time, so everyone knew that you got three olives and that's all. But, we'd still put our olives on our fingers. I don't know why it is so irresistible to do that. But it is still occurring...

Black olives are really fine. They're good as a snack or with a meal. They are tasty cooked into things, they are great sliced up on pizza. They're just delicious. Then, I discovered green olives.

Green olives or Spanish olives, became my teen aged snob food. They weren't tasty to little kids. They are very sharp and vinegary and had a serious kick when you ate them. But I loved them! I felt sophisticated when I ate them. These were definitely only bought by my mother for holidays. But when I finally got a little cash of my own through babysitting, I bought my own bottle. The kind I found in our little grocery in the mountains always came with pimento stuffed inside. This just made them even more appealing because pimento was also exotic. To me. Then, I moved to California.

I could buy green olives with almonds stuffed inside. Or green olives with garlic stuffed inside. I even found green olives stuffed with jalapenos. Many of these were offered at the market stands that were along side an orchard. I'd buy bags of oddly shaped oranges that couldn't be sold to stores, but were perfectly delicious. They were offered at a bargain rate, so I'd have enough money to treat myself to exotic versions of green olives.

I don't know when I first tried Greek olives. I didn't like them. So, I avoided them for years. However, there must be something about being a Woman of A Certain Age, because now, they are my favorite version of olives. I buy them at the olive bar in markets that offer hummus and marinated mushrooms and sell specialty cheese. During school, I'll make a salad for lunch, and carry kalamata olives and fresh cooked beets in another container to add so that the marinade from the olives and the beets is the dressing. Yummm....salty and vinegary! Just the thing to satisfy for entire afternoon.

 I know that olives are an ancient food, mentioned in the Iliad, even.  The Bible references olive trees and olive cultivation over and over. I know that there are olive trees that are documented to be over 2000 years old. It is astonishing to me to realize that a plant can live so long and be productive yet.Olives and olive oil are such a part of Mediterranean culture and cuisine that I'm amazed that they made it, even in the canned form, to my little Wyoming world so long ago.

 Olive oil is so versatile, so amazingly varied and so healthy for you. I've watched television shows where the host joins in the olive harvest, and helps with pressing the oil. They drink it right from the press in a little cup and savor its amazing variety of flavors. When I looked up facts about olives, I learned that there are more than twenty varieties. I also found that more than twenty countries have a significant olive crop, Spain being the leader. Not all of them were Mediterranean countries either---Peru! Australia! Olives and the production and consumption of olive oil are no longer exotic. Both are world wide staples. I hardly use any other type of oil in my cooking.

So, when you feel tempted to put an olive on each finger tip, go ahead. Then slurp them off, one by one and savor the taste. Olives are full of fat, but it is the "good" kind. You'll be helping your heart with your consumption of olive oil and olives, and you'll be eating a food that the world has savored for millennia.

Invasion

Occasionally, the weirdest things happen. Take last night, for example. CoolGuy went out and turned on the pool filter, in preparation for heating the spa. It's done every night. A little water mixing to get the random fallen flower or leaf out of the spa and through the filters, then he switches it so that the water is just filtering within the spa so that the heater is only changing the temperature of that smaller amount of water. He turned on the pool lights to see that everything was working as it should, since he went out after dark to start it up. Then, per usual, we ate dinner while watching Jeopardy (yeah, yeah, old geezers...)

Then, he went outside to start the heater for the spa so that we would be able to do another nightly ritual--take a nice soak before bedtime. And, bonus night: full moon. It's lovely every night to soak in the hot tub and gaze at the night sky, but the full moon makes it especially pleasant.

Suddenly, he poked his head through the patio door and called, "Come and look at this!" I was thinking, "Extra special full moon?" Nooooo....invasion!!

It looked like leaves floating on the pool surface, or flower petals or something. But it didn't make sense because the wind was not blowing, the leaves on our tree are all green and the yearly wilt-with-the-heat had passed anyway. No...it was flying bugs who'd been attracted by the pool lights, apparently. Lots and lots and lots of bugs. Drowned and floating on the surface, piling up in drifts on the steps, covering the bottom of the pool as they sank.

It was ridiculous! In seven years of living in Nevada, I have not seen this many insects, cummulatively. Seriously. This is a relatively bug-free place. I mean, what are they going to live on? Sand? Dirt? There's not much food for insects here.

You can see the orange flowers that fall from a climbing vine we have, then get blown into the pool. But they are so random, that it isn't a nuisance. But the bugs!! We think it must have been some swarm that just happen to fly by, and seeing the lights on the pool, were attracted to their doom. Since it was dark, I could only get a couple of photos near the edge with the flash. It doesn't do justice to the vast numbers floating on the entire surface, and covering the bottom.

Weirdest thing this year. They were not ants, or termites. I have no idea what they were. They had long lacey wings, and bodies shaped like a little worm. And there were gazillions of them drowned in our pool and spa. So...we scooped them from the spa, ran the filters for another half hour in the pool and they all went away. See if we leave the pool lights on at night anymore!  

Summer Temples

I spent a lot of time traveling this summer, and as a result, I passed a number of temples. On the afternoon after my family reunion, I decided to go to the sites of some of these temples. I first drove around the Logan Temple. This is the second temple built that is still in service as an operating temple. (The St. George Temple is first. I visited there two summers ago.)

 The Logan Temple was dedicated in 1884...a really long time ago. It is another monument to people whose lives weren't that easy, yet knew that they needed the blessings of this edifice, so they sacrificed to construct it.  I've been inside a couple of times, for weddings and sealings of relatives. It's obviously a very old structure when you're inside. But, like the older temple in Southern Utah, it is clearly their very finest effort. I read an article about a family who honored one of their relatives who worked on this temple and lived in Brigham City. Their ancestor hiked over the hill to work on the temple, so the family reunion included the 27 mile hike.

Well, now, those people who live in Brigham City don't need to hike, bike or drive up over a pass (elevation: 5868 ft.) and through a series of canyons in order to go to the Logan Temple. They are getting their very own temple in September. The open house is August 18 through September 15. My aunt and uncle lived in Brigham City for about 40 years, so I've been there, and traveled on that canyon road in the winter. It's a really treacherous drive. I'm so excited that people don't have make that trip for the temple this winter. They can just go to this site now.

 It looks enormous, but it isn't really. It's a rather small design, only 26, 000 sq. ft. The Oquirrh Mountain temple is 60,000. But it is very lovely and looks terrific. I'm so happy for the people of Brigham City and the whole area.

Then, I drove south on I-15 toward Salt Lake City. I couldn't see the Odgen Temple from the freeway. They are remodeling it, and when you go to various websites, you can see how it looks now. As I continued on my trek, I knew the next temple I'd see from the freeway was the Bountiful Temple. It is a striking sight, too, perched high up on the "bench" that forms the lower part of the Wasatch Range along that section. These benches are portions of the shoreline of ancient Lake Bonneville. The settlers named their town Bountiful in 1855, and it lived up to its name because it was planted with orchards for many years and was an agriculture center. It's a very nice town, still, and during my drive around, while I hunted down the location of the temple, I was impressed by the obvious prosperity. Fewer orchards, more really nice houses.

This temple is perched on the bench and built down the slopes. The parking areas are on different levels, the view from everywhere is SPECTACULAR. You can see all across the valley that includes the entire Great Salt Lake. It's simply breathtaking. I'm really impressed at the engineering that got this building on this site. I also wonder how the patrons drive up there in the nasty weather that winter can bring. Especially during the "lake effect" storms that pick up the moisture off the lake to the west and dump many feet of snow on the east side. I guess this is the purpose of  snow tires and four-wheel drive, huh?

Well, next summer, I will have completed my endless master's degree studies (crossing my fingers) and so I will not have to attend classes in June. My friend and I have been planning a trip and we'll have to finally take it: the I-15 Temple Tour. Or possibly the I-5 Temple Tour. Either way, we're going to have a great time. The plan is to take an interstate, and attend each temple that is near it, from border to border. Although, now...there's a temple in Vancouver, B.C. so that will entail a border crossing. Cool. I'll keep  you posted. In a few years, we could start in Tijuana...hmm.  Maybe we'll have to do the I-15 trek first.

Frankenfoot--The Finale?

Look what I wore to church today:

Regular shoes! On both feet! At the same time! Cool.

Of course, I sit most of the time at church, playing the organ or the piano. But, it was a very exciting moment when I put these sandals on and realized that my feet weren't swollen and I could, in fact, put on the sandals! So, I wore them to church and I walked just fine, and everything felt excellent.

I discovered at beach camping that walking around in sand is a really theraputic activity for my feet. The sand supports my feet, but, it also moves. I was not hammering my feet against a hard and level surface (like every floor) but, the action of walking around on the shifting sand made every muscle, joint and tendon flex and move and support my body, but also allowed it to be supported. So I was flexing everything, using everything, and there wasn't any pounding involved. It was terrific! I've decided to make myself a sandbox to walk in. I have a big container (with a lid so no one ... KittyCat... gets the wrong idea) and I'll walk in place in it everyday to strengthen my weirdo feet.

Anyway, it was a thrill to wear church-like shoes again (not sneakers) and have my feet actually fit in them and to have walking around feel somewhat normal. Yeah!

It's Where I'm Meant to Be

I'm meant to be floating in the ocean.



 I'm meant to be on a body board, with the water rolling under me toward the shore.

I'm meant to be riding a wave while my grandchildren (or children) play in the surf.



I'm meant to be dripping wet from salty water with kelp swirling around my ankles.

I realize that I hadn't experienced this until I was an adult, but from that first experience in the Pacific Ocean, I knew that this was my natural environment. I love swimming in the ocean.

Thoughtful

This is a blog about a very thoughtful fellow. He is one of my grandchildren, and while we were camping at the beach last week, he showed it in several ways. He is a thinker. One night, as he was heading off to his sleeping bag, and hugging and kissing the adults who were sitting around the campfire, he turned to CoolGuy/Grandpa and noted, "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have my mom! Thanks!" So dear...

Then, a couple of days later, he went out shopping with his sister and his aunt (who had generously picked them up at home, drove them to the beach, and then took care of them for four days, because their mother -- her sister -- had to work.)  They came home from shopping with their bounty and busily showed off the new flip-flops, and shirts and hats. And then, he pulled out a set of earrings from the bag. "Here Grandma, these are for you. I tried to find flamingo earrings, but we couldn't. So I got you these."

First, I couldn't even remember telling him about my wonderful flamingo earrings that had been stolen years ago. Then, that he would recall that story and be consciously looking for a replacement set (he's only six years old!) was just so dear. I carefully listened as he pointed out the details of the gift.

Look closely at them, and you should be able to realize why he felt these were an excellent substitute for the flamingos. They are beach camping earrings. There are the little campfires in the top center. Then, you see the suns on the bottom right, the sunscreen on the bottom left. See the frogs in the center bottom? Every night as we sat in our chairs and watched the campfire, we listened to the frogs singing in the marsh that edged the bottom of the canyon in which the campsite was located. There are little lanterns on the middle left--just like CoolGuy/Grandpa's lantern that hissed in the center of our dinner table. We weren't much bothered by bees, and their beehive wasn't a feature, but we sure did spend a lot of time with marshmallows (upper left) and graham crackers (upper right.)

In fact, S'mores making and toasting Starburst candies was the main purpose for sitting in front of the campfire in our chairs. We'd eat a melted Starburst (this activity introduced by Auntie) and partially eat a S'mores, but mostly we'd just set marshmallows on fire and watch them puff up into astonishingly large charcoal blobs, and finally, slip off the end of the toasting sticks and land on the hot coals. Don't know why setting things alight in the campfire is so intriguing, but it is. And it is an important part of camping: playing with fire (in a controlled environment.) I vividly remember, as a child, holding my marshmallow toasting stick in the coals until the end of it was glowing (or flaming,) and then waving it in cool patterns through the inky night air in the pasture where our family bonfire dinner had been served.

So, anyway, I just really wanted to share the wonderful gift I was given by a young man who is a thoughtful person, in so many ways. I immediately put the suns in my ears, and wore them the rest of the camping trip. Thanks again!

Too Busy Having Fun

That is why there haven't been any new posts lately! Yes, I've been waaaay too busy having fun. I got back from the east coast visit to the sons, and then worked double-time to finish the final project for my on-line class. Got an A, ta da! Then, I drove up to Utah and picked up three grandchildren. We returned to Las Vegas the next day and commenced "Grandma Camp."  Actually Grandpa was here, too, but since it is initiated by the grandma, I get to name it.

We mostly spend GC eating, swimming, staying up and watching movies, and playing games. Since we live in the Entertainment Capital of the World, ahem...mostly adult entertainment, I know...we also did a few visits to appropriate and fun venues such as the Shark Reef and the Springs Preserve. We had intended to also go to the Tournament of Kings dinner show, but, for the first time since I moved here, I couldn't get tickets on the night I wanted them. Procrastination...bah. However, we did stay in the swimming pool that evening until 9:45 P.M. as a bonus, because it was our last night of GC.

One night, after it got completely dark, we drove out into the desert to look at stars. We took the big air mattress, inflated it, and laid it on the ground and then just gazed at the show overhead. We saw a few shooting stars, and several familiar constellations. Grandpa has an app that you can use for the iPad for star-gazing. You hold it up toward the location in the sky you wish to identify, and the names of the stars, planets and constellations appear on the screen in red letters (so you don't mess up your night vision.) We were doing great, too, till Someone, ahem... said, "I wonder if we'll see any desert animals out there. Night is when they come out. Listen closely--maybe we'll hear a coyote."  Then one of the older cousins gave a little fake coyote howl, and the youngest cousin didn't realize it was a fake coyote howl, and had to climb back into the truck and hide. But, besides that, we actually had a pretty good time looking at stars.

Finally the end of Grandma Camp arrived, and we packed up and drove back up I-15 to their homes. That would be my fifth trip on this highway in a three week time span. Yeah. But, now it almost seems like a shorter drive because I know every inch of it so well. I watched the hay grow, then get cut, then baled, and now they were hauling it. I also saw a lot of amazing fire residue. Between two of my journeys, there was a huge brush fire that closed the interstate, and it was sobering driving along between the blackened swaths of the fire's trail.

Then, after depositing the children with their parents, and sharing our fun adventures, I attended my brother's and sister's reunion at my brother's house. It is so fun to see everyone. There were eight babies born between the 2011 reunion and the 2012 reunion! And four of them that were born within weeks of one another in March and April, were there for us to admire. It is a little disconcerting to realize that now, my sisters and I, are the gray-haired ladies of the oldest generation. I so vividly remember going to reunions with my mother as a child, and, frankly hardly knowing many of the people. But, hey--she had 25 aunts and uncles. But there were so many oldsters there. Now, I are the oldster. 

Then, I got back in the trusty Silverado and drove, one more time, south on I-15, back to the desert. Tomorrow morning: we head even more south! We rented a campground at the beach where we used to live, and some of our kids and the children are rendezvousing there for five days of laying around, digging in the sand, and swimming in the ocean. I'm taking books to read and I intend to lie in the hammock for an hour every day to do so. S'mores and dutch oven potatoes are on the menu. We'll see dolphins and go to the tide pools. I'm really making the most of this summer, as you can tell.

Here are the remaining brothers and sisters. We're still missing Trish...

I'm not really that short, (see below). I must have been standing in a low spot.

However, I am  that chubby...sigh.



We did a lot of this in Grandma Camp.....

We did a lot of this, too.

And we did a lot of this...

And I was informed, one afternoon, that the pool was more fun when Grandpa was there...Well...But, it was true. I mean, Grandma didn't initiate Super Soaker battles. Nor did she teach anyone how to sit on the bottom of the pool, and time how long you could stay down there. She also wasn't the one who tossed you straight up and across the pool from her clasped hands. Boring Grandma...