Monday, May 30, 2011


Hallelujah! Blogger let me back in. I've been denied access to my own blog for over a week. I guess Blogger is over his--never her--tantrum.Yesterday I spoke in church on "reaching out to others and cultivating friendships." I am lucky to have such good friends. Some of them are you, reading this blog, which has been neglected for months and then, because it's been neglected, so have you. What have you:
  1. been up to?

  2. been photographing?

  3. been cooking? Oh how I've missed what you've been cooking. Collecting recipes is my hobby, you know. Oh how Phil wishes that cooking what I collect would also be my hobby.

  4. been making? You are so crafty, I'm not going to make what you make but I sure do like to see it and "ooh" and "aah" over it. You're amazing.

  5. sorry if you've blogged about politics. I'll read what you've written but...that's it. I cannot allow that fuss to enter into my already overloaded brain. My mother said, "Don't borrow trouble, Lynne," and if I allow politics to fester in my brain, and there is nothing I can do about it, well, I will be troubled, unhappy, and cranky. People who are unhappy and troubled cannot give to others because, well, they are all wrapped up in their own miseries.

I have other things to worry about tonight. Please pray for my family, as I pray for yours. There is power in prayer.

If your heart is troubled go here and listen to this short message. It always makes me cry, but it is a good cry. The message is so encouraging.

I send my love to you and the knowledge that there is peace to be had. We just have to ask for it. Have faith and ask.

Sunday, May 22, 2011


I believe that there are a certain number of pounds to go around and when that gets tight the pound-gods issue more pounds, kind of like the government did, releasing new money. (And how did the government get the money into the system, I'm wondering. None of it showed up in my band account.)

Anyway, back to the pounds. My friend has lost eight. I've gained eight. As much as I'm thrilled with her loss--and I really am, I am not thrilled to see it show up on me.

If anyone knows how this works please let me know. It's one of the things that keep me awake in the dark of night.

While looking for a photo to go with this post I came upon this: "Fat people are harder to kidnap."

Now you can rest easy. Unless you've lost eight pounds, then you better be a good runner.

Friday, May 20, 2011


We FINALLY saw the adjustment bureau. I think ordinary folks get to live the life they want because we don't make big decisions that make big waves or even big ripples. How nice for us.

And also, I think the Adjustment Bureau was banned long ago, all one third of them, and I thinketh not that they want us to do the best, have the best, be the best.

At any rate, if they really wanted to make me a better person they would bring up that bit of floor every time I reached for a Hershey bar. After landing on my face a few times I might learn to ignore it. Too bad that doesn't happen. Kind of.

Thursday, May 19, 2011


One day, after our Christmas family dinner, I started finding these notes: "Grandma, remember to have me come over in the summer and clean out. Love, Maddy." I found three of these, one was on the bathroom door, one was on a bag of leftover Christmas candy and one was in my church bag.

This was in the kitchen. How she got up there to write this I'll never know. I wonder if the "Love Maddy," was written as she was teetering off the edge of the sink. It looks kind of like it was written under some teetering-stress.
On the stove.See this hutch?
And this one? No one (in their right mind) needs two hutches but the second one belonged to my Aunt Dorothy, along with a Duncan Fhyfe table and I couldn't NOT take them when we cleaned her out apartment so many years ago. So, there they are, two hutches, stuffed to the brim and then some.
I'm thinking that they would look good filled with books! What do you think? Then one of them could go into a bedroom. Right now Phil has two teetering stacks of books by the bed and I'm afraid that will bump into them in the dark-of-night and be trapped until morning.

Besides that, Lovely (Awesome) Lisa (see post here and her very own awesome blog here--her current post is on organizing papers--which multiply when not looking, I'm convinced) says we keep too much stuff. "Only keep things that are useful or beautiful that you really love," she says. But she allows herself a few unlimited things, lipsticks, music, shoes and books. So, if I'm going to be Lisa's humble follower I can have all the books I (and Phil, the great church book collector) want. Right?

Maddy has two cousins (we had three granddaughters within seven weeks one year) who I think would love to be co-conspirators in the great "clean out" of the summer. They are begging for another sleepover and this might be just one of the things we could do together. That and a midnight run to Wendy's*, just like Elizabeth and I used to do.

So, Maddy's clever tactic for a clean out may really happen. She's be so happy and so will I. I bet Lisa will come over and clap and cheer too, she's that kind of awesome.

*Shh. Don't tell their parents about the midnight run. The girls all had varying degrees of meltdowns after the first (sleep deprived) sleepover and I'm treading on thin ice suggesting a second one.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011


Do you ever have a thought cross your mind, kind of like, "Humm, I'll bet four extra large eggs are too many for this pie, even though the recipe says four eggs. I better only put in three, because after all, they are extra large?" And then the thought disappears, because you seem to be drafty, and then when the pie flows all over the place you remember.

Me too. And I'm taking this pie to Achievement Days tomorrow to show the girls one of the joys of Rhubarb Buttermilk Pie.

And not only that, the timer just went off, the pie has been in the oven an HOUR and the toothpick came out juicy.

I love it when I get to show the girls how not to do stuff. I'm nothing if I'm not a bad example. Everyone should have a bad example in their lives. It makes life bearable somehow, knowing you are superior to someone else.

I need to find someone who's worse at all things homemaking-ish than I am. Then life will be sweet. Like pie.


Tonight was a Relief Society mid week activity, Lovely Lisa told us how to get control of our homes, our clutter, or schedules, our paper--that multiplies every time the lights go out, our children and how to get them to clean the house really fast, and probably how to make pie crust, I'm not sure. But, she did tell us how to get organized and have a beautiful home. If I'm not mistaken it can be summarized in two points.

Point one: Just do it already.

Point two: Throw it out, you have too many already and don't need another one. Unless it's shoes. Every woman alive (and dead) knows that already, so really her instructions can be boiled down into those four words in point one: Putonsomelouddancemusicanddancethroughlife while cleaningreallyfast. Three words.

I would go to Lisa's class if she were naming the stars, not by names, just by number. She is not only joyously funny, she's also joyously efficient and joyously beautiful. That stops me right there. Anyone who is joyously beautiful, who's teeth give that diamond sparkle every time she smiles, who walk--if not actually on water--an inch or two below the surface just because she loves to kick the waves and it cools her off--although in Utah at this moment no one needs cooling off--we have another two feet of snow in the mountain and I am still wearing sweaters, luckily, because I seem to have put off The Diet--whatever that is--yet another week...anyway, anyone who is this sizzling perfect must, must, must have a flaw somewhere. I intend to find it and then I will say, "Well, at least I don't have that annoying freckle like Lisa!" Yup, that's what I intend to do. I'm pretty sure I've seen an annoying freckle on joyous Lisa.

Other than that, Girl of a thousand qualities, 999 of them perfect and that one annoying freckle, she is truly a peach of a girl and I love her.

Say what? That annoying freckle is a crumb of chocolate cake that adorable Margaret left behind (see second, third and tenth photo
here) when she kissed her adorable mother?

Oh well, I guess I'll just have to deal with it, and maybe I'll dance to the music and maybe I'll clean really fast and maybe I'll throw twenty things out every day.

PS If you want a recap of all of Lisa's information it's on her blog, start with her March 16th post titled
Practical Ideas to Cleaning (Try 'em out) and go forward.

PPS Looking at Lisa's blog I realize she's not so much adorable, but awesome--like Niagara Falls.

PPPS Her husband blogs here.

Monday, May 16, 2011


My "job" in the church is to be one of the Achievement Day leaders for the 10-11 year old girls. This year I wanted to give them a recipe box, have some cooking classes, and basically--in the two years I have them--give them the favorite recipes of the women in the ward. By the time they leave Primary and go into Young Women's (at age 12) they would have a nice start on some basic recipes.

That was my plan.

I bought the recipe boxes.

I had a template of index tab cards printed, which they cut out and put in their boxes.

I copied about a dozen recipes and had the first cooking class, our favorite taco soup (which we timed and can be on the table in ten minutes).

Not until several weeks later did I realize their recipe boxes were 4x6 and I had made everything 3x5. And I only realized that because one of the girls said, "My recipes are too small for my box."

For crying out loud!

I have two options: I can quit and slink away in shame. I can re-do everything.

I decided to do both, slink around, being shameful, and give the girls all new index dividers and recipe cards. This shouldn't be more than several hours of work that I wouldn't have had to do if I ever, EVER IN MY LIFE, noticed the details.

This is my life. One blunder after another.