Friday, July 11, 2008
BATHING IN A BUCKET
Lord Bumhampton climbed up on my lap. I nuzzled his little neck, he smelled of summer. Sometimes I’d lick my children’s arms just to smell the rich summer fragrance. It made them laugh, to see, and feel their mother licking their arms.
“I should take him in and give him a bath,” I said.
Mom didn’t say anything.
“I really should,” I said, halfheartedly.
“You know,” she said in a quiet voice, swinging the lawn swing with a slow rhythm, “there’s nothing says he has to bathe in the house. When I was a kid we bathed in a tin tub. Even a bucket would do.”
“I’ll be right back,” I said.
I set the bucket of warm water on the patio and tried to persuade my boy that bathing in a bucket was going to be fun. He wasn’t buying it. Getting naked in the back yard was out of his two-year-old comfort zone.
I swirled my hand in the water. He did too and soon he was splashing and laughing. He hardly noticed as I stripped his clothes off. When they were in a pile he stepped into the bucket and stood still while I soaped a washcloth and washed his plumb tummy, his arms and legs. I soaped the summer smell off his neck, then scooped water and let it cascade over his head. Water ran down his summer-browned arms and dripped off his fingers. I soaped his round little bottom and he laughed. Mom smiled.
When he was rinsed off I bundled him in a towel. Mom dried his hair with a corner of it and then wrapped the towel around him, tucking the end in so he could walk around. We called him our little Tongan.
I dumped the water on the grass. He poked at the wet grass with a stick and then came to get dressed. He climbed on my lap and snuggled down.
The stars came out; there were more stars then, city lights were fewer. Lord Bumhampton fell asleep.
We swung in the dark for a long time--Mother, daughter and grandson, his breath warmed my breast. He sighed in his sleep. Mom and I smiled in the dark and talked softly.
It was a night made of magic. Thin magic. Warm-toast kind of magic. I didn’t know it then, but it was also the future’s I-wish-I-could-go-back-in-time kind of magic. We stayed on the swing long after the stars filled the sky with specks of light and the crickets courted.
We were three generations. Maybe we were watched over by unseen generations, the ones who had gone before and those unborn, waiting to come, maybe one of those unborn was Lord Bumhampton's little sister, Her Excellency of Mousehole. I like to think that’s true. Maybe Lord Bumhampton's future children were there too, there might have been many generations, stretching in the distance on both ends, and the three of us, in the middle, swinging together, held together, by silken family threads, one summer night, so long ago.
“I should take him in and give him a bath,” I said.
Mom didn’t say anything.
“I really should,” I said, halfheartedly.
“You know,” she said in a quiet voice, swinging the lawn swing with a slow rhythm, “there’s nothing says he has to bathe in the house. When I was a kid we bathed in a tin tub. Even a bucket would do.”
“I’ll be right back,” I said.
I set the bucket of warm water on the patio and tried to persuade my boy that bathing in a bucket was going to be fun. He wasn’t buying it. Getting naked in the back yard was out of his two-year-old comfort zone.
I swirled my hand in the water. He did too and soon he was splashing and laughing. He hardly noticed as I stripped his clothes off. When they were in a pile he stepped into the bucket and stood still while I soaped a washcloth and washed his plumb tummy, his arms and legs. I soaped the summer smell off his neck, then scooped water and let it cascade over his head. Water ran down his summer-browned arms and dripped off his fingers. I soaped his round little bottom and he laughed. Mom smiled.
When he was rinsed off I bundled him in a towel. Mom dried his hair with a corner of it and then wrapped the towel around him, tucking the end in so he could walk around. We called him our little Tongan.
I dumped the water on the grass. He poked at the wet grass with a stick and then came to get dressed. He climbed on my lap and snuggled down.
The stars came out; there were more stars then, city lights were fewer. Lord Bumhampton fell asleep.
We swung in the dark for a long time--Mother, daughter and grandson, his breath warmed my breast. He sighed in his sleep. Mom and I smiled in the dark and talked softly.
It was a night made of magic. Thin magic. Warm-toast kind of magic. I didn’t know it then, but it was also the future’s I-wish-I-could-go-back-in-time kind of magic. We stayed on the swing long after the stars filled the sky with specks of light and the crickets courted.
We were three generations. Maybe we were watched over by unseen generations, the ones who had gone before and those unborn, waiting to come, maybe one of those unborn was Lord Bumhampton's little sister, Her Excellency of Mousehole. I like to think that’s true. Maybe Lord Bumhampton's future children were there too, there might have been many generations, stretching in the distance on both ends, and the three of us, in the middle, swinging together, held together, by silken family threads, one summer night, so long ago.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
THE FORTUNE COOKIES
Yesterday, Pam and I each opened our fortune cookie. They had diverse fortunes in them, actually not fortunes at all but commands. Here they are and this is is how they were received.
Adjust finances--make budgets, to improve your financial standing.
Do something unusual tomorrow.
Guess which one I got? Any suggestions about unusual activities?
Adjust finances--make budgets, to improve your financial standing. Do something unusual tomorrow.Guess which one I got? Any suggestions about unusual activities?
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
THE PARKING SPOT
Pam and I went to Border's today to pick up a book about my favorite subject--not that I want this subject to happen, mind you, but it's fascinating--the end-of-the-world or perhaps the almost-end-of-the-world, where civilization is struggling to stay alive. This book is called The City of Ember and they are making a movie about it. I can't wait. Also, I had a 20% off coupon. 
I also bought a book for one of the grandkids but won't say just which one, in case...well, I don't think they read this blog but sometimes their parents do. 
I also bought a book for one of the grandkids but won't say just which one, in case...well, I don't think they read this blog but sometimes their parents do. Anyway, we parked, went in to Borders, came out, drove off and had the never ending discussion of where shall we have lunch. We decided, drove around the round-about, and Pam said, "Oh, there's a good spot," and it was the same spot we just drove out of except this time she drove all the way through so she didn't have to back up when leaving...for the second time.
Here she is, being so smart to find such a good parking place. Again.
We had a lovely lunch at Shoots and she sent me home with her leftovers and I gave them to Phil, along with mine, because the first words out of his mouth, when I got home was, "You were going to be gone an hour!"
He really should know better by now, don't you think? And we saved tons of time by finding such a good parking space, too. I could have been gone much longer if Pam didn't have such a good eye.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
DUTCH OVEN ENRICHMENT
Tonight was Enrichment--a Dutch Oven event. We had ribs--the sauce recipe is on my cookbook blog, potatoes and onions, salad, Grandma Vera's beans--I later found out that Grandma Vera is the mother of a woman in our ward--these beans are famous, hot rolls, homemade root beer, and three kinds of cobbler with whipped cream. FABULOUS
We learned how to clean a new Dutch Oven and season it. How to cook--we received a handout with bunches of recipes--how many briquettes to use and how to start them with a chimney type thing. I'd show you a picture but Blogger is having that snit and besides that I didn't take a picture of it. We learned a bunch of stuff, which I am to tired to remember. I'll look at the handout tomorrow.
We learned how to clean a new Dutch Oven and season it. How to cook--we received a handout with bunches of recipes--how many briquettes to use and how to start them with a chimney type thing. I'd show you a picture but Blogger is having that snit and besides that I didn't take a picture of it. We learned a bunch of stuff, which I am to tired to remember. I'll look at the handout tomorrow.
I tried to download a few more pictures but Blogger is throwing a bit of a tantrum so this is it.
Well, except for this one, the root beer milk can, filled with yummy root beer, chilled with dry ice. While it was brewing it looked sort of like a witches cauldron.We didn't get out of there until 10:00, I think we had seventeen Dutch ovens and they all had to be cleaned and returned to the owners. Then I took my darling friend, Faye home and we sat in her driveway and visited for an hour. I sure hope I make it to Heaven because that's where Faye is going, straight to Heaven without any stops. She may have to open a trap door and let me in.
Monday, July 7, 2008
FOUR TIMES FOUR ANSWERS
This came via email today. If anyone wants to do it on their blog...well, it would be a post and you'd be done for the day. I'm done for the day and it's not even three-thirity in the afternoon. Practically a record for me.
Four, Four, Four, Four...
A) Four places that I go to over and over:
1. Church --The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints--The Mormons
2. Grocery store, Costco, the most, probably or maybe Days Thriftway
3. J-Dawg, for those incredible Polish dogs, or Heaps, for the great salad bar, or Smart Cookie for the yummy lemon cookies with crunchy lemon bits baked right in, or Chuck-A-Rama on Thursday for their Mexican salad, or Dairy Queen, late at night, for those frosty's—do you see a pattern here? Not so good. But, hey, call me and I'll pick you up, and away we'll go. It will be fun. We will visit and eat stuff.
4. My writing/critique groups.
B) Four people who e-mail me (regularly):
1. Pam --who always seems to know exactly what to say to life my spirits.
2. Cheryl--who should blog. She has the most incredibly funny things happen to her or maybe she just looks at life with joy.
3. Terri--who also should blog for the same reason.
4. Gilmore Girl--who doesn't email me so much so she really should blog.
Everyone who thinks all these people should blog raise your hand. The voting appears to be unanimous.
C) Four places I would rather be right now:
1. In the Swiss Alps or maybe Paris. If "right now," then the Alps because Paris would be hot and with all the dog doo problem, that Paris has going on, it wouldn't be pleasant.
2. Back in time to when the kids were little and everything was hectic but not as stressful as now, how I'd love to gather them up on my lap and read to them or sit with them on the lawn swings, eating popcorn and rhubarb and just letting them be silly, entertaining Phil and me.
My favorite lawn swing memory is when Lord Bumhampton was about two or three-years-old and Mom was here. It was time to put him to bed but we were on the lawnswings--the lawnswings were out back, that year. We didn't want to go in so we bathed Lord Bumhampton in a bucket on the patio. He was all blond and slippery-wet and delighted to be bathing in a bucket.
Then we "jammied" him and cuddled him down and stayed out there until way past dark, just talking. The crickets turned on and so did the stars and Mom and I sat in friendly mother-daughterness for a long time while Lord Bumhampton went to sleep in my arms. So if I could go back in time maybe that would be two of my choices, once with the kids and once with my Mom and a sleeping toddler.
3. In New York City for a week with a purse full of money and tickets to everything
4. San Francisco, ditto with that full-purse thing. Or maybe Carmel.
D) Four people I wish I were more like:
1. Jeanne Inouye, for about fifty different reasons, some of which are her grace, her love for everyone, her dignity under difficult situations, her wish to be happy and to share her happiness with others, her work ethic, etc. She is one of those people who you cannot believe is real because she is so perfect and yet she makes you feel like you are just who you should be, even if you're not.
2. Terri, Pam, Cheryl and Gilmore Girl for their insaneness. They laugh--and I laugh more when I am with them--than can be imagined.
3. Eleanor Roosevelt, but prettier.
4. Sarah Barlow. She has the most giving heart. She wants to help others all the time--and does. And Boyd Helquist, who is such a social person and he makes everyone feel they are important in his life. He always walks down to talk to us if he sees we are outside, even if he just has a minute to spend. He's that way with everyone.
E) Four TV shows I watch all the time:
1. "Lost," when it's on--and that's what, 12 to 14 times a year? Big whoop.
2. Cooking shows, I don't know why, it doesn't inspire me to cook. I used to cook. Poor Phil, having a wife who used to cook.
3. That's about it--oh, maybe a movie we get from Net Flix—I order never-heard-of-before-movies, the feel-good kind and Phil thinks are lame--the latest one was DEAR FRANKIE, which I loved and he slept through. He has put EVERY SINGLE EPISODE OF 24 on our Queue so I won't be watching TV anymore at all! He thinks Jack Bower is real. Don't tell anyone, it's embarrassing.
4. Oh, wait, "Everybody Loves Raymond," I watch over Phil’s shoulder after he watches the news. I, of course, am on the computer. Blogging, probably, or perhaps waiting for the Muse.
Four, Four, Four, Four...
A) Four places that I go to over and over:
1. Church --The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints--The Mormons
2. Grocery store, Costco, the most, probably or maybe Days Thriftway
3. J-Dawg, for those incredible Polish dogs, or Heaps, for the great salad bar, or Smart Cookie for the yummy lemon cookies with crunchy lemon bits baked right in, or Chuck-A-Rama on Thursday for their Mexican salad, or Dairy Queen, late at night, for those frosty's—do you see a pattern here? Not so good. But, hey, call me and I'll pick you up, and away we'll go. It will be fun. We will visit and eat stuff.
4. My writing/critique groups.
B) Four people who e-mail me (regularly):
1. Pam --who always seems to know exactly what to say to life my spirits.
2. Cheryl--who should blog. She has the most incredibly funny things happen to her or maybe she just looks at life with joy.
3. Terri--who also should blog for the same reason.
4. Gilmore Girl--who doesn't email me so much so she really should blog.
Everyone who thinks all these people should blog raise your hand. The voting appears to be unanimous.
C) Four places I would rather be right now:
1. In the Swiss Alps or maybe Paris. If "right now," then the Alps because Paris would be hot and with all the dog doo problem, that Paris has going on, it wouldn't be pleasant.
2. Back in time to when the kids were little and everything was hectic but not as stressful as now, how I'd love to gather them up on my lap and read to them or sit with them on the lawn swings, eating popcorn and rhubarb and just letting them be silly, entertaining Phil and me.
My favorite lawn swing memory is when Lord Bumhampton was about two or three-years-old and Mom was here. It was time to put him to bed but we were on the lawnswings--the lawnswings were out back, that year. We didn't want to go in so we bathed Lord Bumhampton in a bucket on the patio. He was all blond and slippery-wet and delighted to be bathing in a bucket.
Then we "jammied" him and cuddled him down and stayed out there until way past dark, just talking. The crickets turned on and so did the stars and Mom and I sat in friendly mother-daughterness for a long time while Lord Bumhampton went to sleep in my arms. So if I could go back in time maybe that would be two of my choices, once with the kids and once with my Mom and a sleeping toddler.
3. In New York City for a week with a purse full of money and tickets to everything
4. San Francisco, ditto with that full-purse thing. Or maybe Carmel.
D) Four people I wish I were more like:
1. Jeanne Inouye, for about fifty different reasons, some of which are her grace, her love for everyone, her dignity under difficult situations, her wish to be happy and to share her happiness with others, her work ethic, etc. She is one of those people who you cannot believe is real because she is so perfect and yet she makes you feel like you are just who you should be, even if you're not.
2. Terri, Pam, Cheryl and Gilmore Girl for their insaneness. They laugh--and I laugh more when I am with them--than can be imagined.
3. Eleanor Roosevelt, but prettier.
4. Sarah Barlow. She has the most giving heart. She wants to help others all the time--and does. And Boyd Helquist, who is such a social person and he makes everyone feel they are important in his life. He always walks down to talk to us if he sees we are outside, even if he just has a minute to spend. He's that way with everyone.
E) Four TV shows I watch all the time:
1. "Lost," when it's on--and that's what, 12 to 14 times a year? Big whoop.
2. Cooking shows, I don't know why, it doesn't inspire me to cook. I used to cook. Poor Phil, having a wife who used to cook.
3. That's about it--oh, maybe a movie we get from Net Flix—I order never-heard-of-before-movies, the feel-good kind and Phil thinks are lame--the latest one was DEAR FRANKIE, which I loved and he slept through. He has put EVERY SINGLE EPISODE OF 24 on our Queue so I won't be watching TV anymore at all! He thinks Jack Bower is real. Don't tell anyone, it's embarrassing.
4. Oh, wait, "Everybody Loves Raymond," I watch over Phil’s shoulder after he watches the news. I, of course, am on the computer. Blogging, probably, or perhaps waiting for the Muse.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
BE OF GOOD CHEER
Be of Good Cheer--that was Heather's lesson in Relief Society today. Her lesson was taken from a talk by our new prophet, Thomas S. Monson at the BYU Women's Conference, 2008 Here are a couple of things I jotted down in my notebook:
- We have an immense amount of power--we have just forgotten
- Keep a gratitude journal--she asked for a raise of hands to see how many people do this and there were several. I looked at Joan and whispered, "I have one, I've just never written in it." She whispered back, "So do I and neither have I."
- Have confidence in the Lord.
- Heather asked what people do when they are "down," and lots of ideas were expressed. My favorite one was to go where it was light. Go outside and stand in the light. Then Genny, my neighbor I adore, said something like, "I think you need to cry sometimes, you need to get it out, to grieve and feel sorry for yourself. And anyway," she said, "people who are so cheerful all the time kind of bug me." The whole congregation of sisters broke up in laughter.
- Amy, who is the Primary secretary, came in for a few minutes and said something I think was inspired--she had heard it from someone else but I think she was inspired to relate it to us today. She said to imagine you are in the top of a tower. All of a sudden you see a buffalo stampede coming toward you. You begin to feel the power of it, the vibration, when it gets closer and actually goes under your tower and around your tower you can smell the buffalo, the dust comes up and swirls around. All your senses are involved and you feel overwhelmed but you are safe in the tower and soon you watch as the herd stampedes off into the distance and then they are gone. Simply gone. You are safe. You were always safe, you just felt overwhelmed for a while. She told it better than this but you get the idea.
- Heather gave us homework. Look for the words "good cheer" or other words that mean the same. Look in the scriptures and other places. Write down what we find and find ways to have good cheer. I did that. I looked on the Internet and a talk by Jeanne Inouye came up. She gave the talk in 1993. It was called, "Be of Good Cheer." Jeanne buried her husband Saturday. This was the funeral I talked about yesterday. Her husband was an incredible man, loved by all. Jeanne was at church today, smiling. I know she is hurting inside, lonely already, missing her husband but she will be of good cheer. I have much to learn from this wonderful woman.
Heather closed with this quote from Neal A. Maxwell, "Be of Good Cheer," Ensign, November 1982, pg. 68 "Brothers and sisters, these are our days. This is our time on earth! These are our tasks to be done!
"And in these days, being of good cheer is part of being valiant in the testimony of Jesus. (See D&C 76:79; D&C 121:29.)
"Finally, in those moments when we feel the pain which is a necessary part of the plan of happiness, we can remember that there was an ancient time when that plan was first unveiled. Then the perceptive among us voted not secretly, but audibly—by shouting for joy! (See Job 38:7.) Let us not go back on those feelings now—for we saw more clearly then what we are experiencing now! "
I hope--that is if you got this far in this long blog--that you will know you are loved by your Heavenly Father, that your sins have been paid for by The Savior, all you have to do is come with a broken heart and ask forgiveness. I hope you know there are covenants that can be made. Blessing that can be had. Eternity to be of good cheer with your loved ones and with Christ and your Heavenly Father.
May God bless you.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
THE MUSE NEEDS TO VISIT LYNNE
I can't take the time to write about what I really want to say tonight, it will have to wait for when I have more time and less tears. I will say this much: a dear man's funeral was today and I am sad. I am sad for his dear wife and his children but also sad for Lynne, who won't be able to benefit from his love...the love he shared equally with all. But to me, and others too, it was genuine and meaningful and cherished. My heart is broken.
So, instead I will share something Jane Yolen said on her web site--and no, I didn't get permission so don't rat on me:
"The Muse is an ornery creature and rarely comes when called. She wears feathers in her hair and birkenstocks on her feet and is often out in the woods when you are home at your keyboard.
"But sometimes when you are writing, and are so concentrated on what you are doing that you pay her little heed, she comes into the room, looks over your shoulder, and breathes softly in your ear. It is a tickle, like baby's breath, and could be mistaken for a shift in the internal wind in the room.
"And you won't know she's been there, not until minutes or days or weeks or months or years later. You will think that what you put down was ordinary but it turns out to be extraordinary. And that's when you understand the Muse had visited you.
"Trust me. Some things I do know." Jane Yolen
Now, I don't know if The Muse has ever visited me but I'm hoping she might, even though I live in Utah which is classified as a desert and not in the woods of Scotland, which is green and lush and has places named Faerie Glen, has castles, lochs and even mountains that are good at absorbing demons.
If you have any influence with the muse, tell her something like this, "Lynne, who lives in Utah--with no glens, castles, lochs or demon absorbing mountains--needs you to whisper lovely ideas in her ear." Then bribe her. It's the right thing to do, I'm sure of it.
Thanks so much. I owe you one,
Lynne
So, instead I will share something Jane Yolen said on her web site--and no, I didn't get permission so don't rat on me:
"The Muse is an ornery creature and rarely comes when called. She wears feathers in her hair and birkenstocks on her feet and is often out in the woods when you are home at your keyboard.
"But sometimes when you are writing, and are so concentrated on what you are doing that you pay her little heed, she comes into the room, looks over your shoulder, and breathes softly in your ear. It is a tickle, like baby's breath, and could be mistaken for a shift in the internal wind in the room.
"And you won't know she's been there, not until minutes or days or weeks or months or years later. You will think that what you put down was ordinary but it turns out to be extraordinary. And that's when you understand the Muse had visited you.
"Trust me. Some things I do know." Jane Yolen
Now, I don't know if The Muse has ever visited me but I'm hoping she might, even though I live in Utah which is classified as a desert and not in the woods of Scotland, which is green and lush and has places named Faerie Glen, has castles, lochs and even mountains that are good at absorbing demons.
If you have any influence with the muse, tell her something like this, "Lynne, who lives in Utah--with no glens, castles, lochs or demon absorbing mountains--needs you to whisper lovely ideas in her ear." Then bribe her. It's the right thing to do, I'm sure of it.
Thanks so much. I owe you one,
Lynne
Friday, July 4, 2008
HAPPY 4TH OF JULY
The 4th is almost over so happy the 4th is almost over.
There are a lot of things I could talk about today:
There are a lot of things I could talk about today:
- The jet airplanes that flew over the parade at 9:10 am, with the bomber that rode with them
- The fun/funky shops/tents/tables of things that people are selling downtown at the art/bazaar/whatever-it-is-called. Free enterprise, people have the freedom to sell any darn thing they please. We even bought some of them.
- Fireworks
- The Stadium of fire with the Blue Man Group, Miley Cyrus--aka Hanna Montana, Glen Beck, etc.
- The delicious dinner we ate at Kraut and the Soap Queen's house
- The grandkids
- Seeing the new baby--the surviving twin I talked about a while back, so precious, so little, her Mom so loving even though the baby has acid reflux and the sweet Mom is sleep deprived.
- Potato salad--just threw that in to see if you were awake
- The freedom we cherish, really cherish
- The heat--although it was overcast today, which I am sure those in the parade and those watching appreciated
- Etcetera.
But what I want to say instead is on the way to Kraut and The Soap Queen's house we passed a car with kids in the back seat. Even though it was about 90 degrees outside the back window was rolled down and a little boy, about age 4 had an American flag out the window. When the mom was at a stop light he waved the flag like crazy. His mom slowed down and turned right and I couldn't get my camera out in time to take his picture.
So, imagine his intent little face, doing his best to celebrate what this nation stands for--freedom . And how about that Mom, who let him keep his window down in the 90 degree heat so he could do his best to celebrate? Here's to four-year-olds with flags and the nation it stands for. Here's to the people who do their best to keep America a great nation. And here's to Moms. Just because.
Happy 4th of July, America.
THEY WILL HAVE IT SO MUCH EASIER IF THEY LISTEN
Today I think the high was 98 degrees. This is what I saw in our neighborhood. 
Our neighborhood taking his grandson for a walk. And the grandson wanted to be covered up to his chin with a beach towel.
"That's what he wants and so that's what we'll do," Boyd said. That's a grandfather for you, doing whatever the grandchild wants, even if it makes no sense.
Then our neighbor said something that we all fear. "When he gets to be a teenager will he even talk to me?"
He seems to be thinking it over.
And then the grandchild took over and and did it his way. Another fear every parent and grandparent fears--maybe they will do it their way, even if it's wrong.
And so it goes, down through the generations. Parents and grandparents, who have so much knowledge and love and the younger generation is determined to do it their way. Just like we did.
We could have saved ourselves so much trouble if we had just listened.
But maybe, just maybe this generation will.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
PLOTS, CONFLICT AND WHAT CAN YOU DO ON YOUR WORST DAY?
I went to my critique group today and as per our new policy we each bring some nugget of information to make our writing better.
Amy, who shall be called Young-Mother-With-Long-Hair-Who-Wants-a-Cool-Photo-Taken-Before-She-Gets-It-Cut-in-a-Cool-Short-Style, gave us a handout from Janette Rallison, that we should use when starting a novel--actually, it should be used for each chapter. We decided, since NONE OF US have our novel really fleshed out before writing we need to pay close attention to it.
DeAnn's author said about her novel at the BYU conference, "Your writing is too good to waste on this tiny goal." Or something like that. Go here and read this and you will see what I mean about DeAnn's great writing. I am so jealous.
Her author also said, "How much can you write on your worst day?" And DeAnn said she thought five minutes but then DeAnn, who I shall call The-Great-Writer-Who-Doesn't-Use-a-Lot-of-Fluff-Words said, "Every day cannot be my worst day!"
And so that's what my post today is really about. Everyday cannot be our worst day, we cannot not have goals and aspirations, we cannot not want to strive to do and be better.
So, here's to having life plots, maybe one hundred of them, and working through life's conflicts, hopefully not one hundred of them all at once, and goals and overcoming and laughing in the face of the antagonists. --The Major Antagonist has no power over the righteous, by the way.--
"There is some place where your specialties can shine. Somewhere that difference can be expressed. It's up to you to find it, and you can." (David Viscott) So, I must try to write funny, maybe, and a little tragic so it will be publishable.
DeAnn and Amy are going to have to write more tragic because they are better writers than I am. Amy has this great picture book going and we all know that a four-year-old can't handle a lot of tragedy. They fall apart if their Popsicle falls in the dirt, so Amy gets a pass on the picture book but not on the novel.
So, lets do it. Lets do whatever it is we do and take the "worst day" excuse only occasionally.
Amy, who shall be called Young-Mother-With-Long-Hair-Who-Wants-a-Cool-Photo-Taken-Before-She-Gets-It-Cut-in-a-Cool-Short-Style, gave us a handout from Janette Rallison, that we should use when starting a novel--actually, it should be used for each chapter. We decided, since NONE OF US have our novel really fleshed out before writing we need to pay close attention to it.
DeAnn's author said about her novel at the BYU conference, "Your writing is too good to waste on this tiny goal." Or something like that. Go here and read this and you will see what I mean about DeAnn's great writing. I am so jealous.
Her author also said, "How much can you write on your worst day?" And DeAnn said she thought five minutes but then DeAnn, who I shall call The-Great-Writer-Who-Doesn't-Use-a-Lot-of-Fluff-Words said, "Every day cannot be my worst day!"
And so that's what my post today is really about. Everyday cannot be our worst day, we cannot not have goals and aspirations, we cannot not want to strive to do and be better.
So, here's to having life plots, maybe one hundred of them, and working through life's conflicts, hopefully not one hundred of them all at once, and goals and overcoming and laughing in the face of the antagonists. --The Major Antagonist has no power over the righteous, by the way.--
"There is some place where your specialties can shine. Somewhere that difference can be expressed. It's up to you to find it, and you can." (David Viscott) So, I must try to write funny, maybe, and a little tragic so it will be publishable.
DeAnn and Amy are going to have to write more tragic because they are better writers than I am. Amy has this great picture book going and we all know that a four-year-old can't handle a lot of tragedy. They fall apart if their Popsicle falls in the dirt, so Amy gets a pass on the picture book but not on the novel.
So, lets do it. Lets do whatever it is we do and take the "worst day" excuse only occasionally.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
OLD FRIENDS ARE THE BEST FRIENDS
I just got a call from a friend I've known for 31 years. She was in our ward and neighborhood for a few years and then moved. We've stayed close. We hardly ever do anything together anymore but it doesn't matter. She calls and it's like time has stood still.
I remember one time one of us called the other and said, "We need to talk." We met in some little dive and had dessert. We both said, "I've got some bad news." We talked and listened, cried, hugged and took deep breaths and got on with our lives. It was comforting to know someone else was dealing with hard times while I was too. I wanted her life to be easy, wanted mine to be easy too, but it wasn't. We grew stronger together.
We used to sneak away when we could and go to late movies together. It seems like that was the only time we could schedule, when the kids were taken care of and in bed. We've laughed more than is believable. Phil says he always knows when I'm talking to Cheryl on the phone because of all the laughter.
I don't know what my life would have been like without Cheryl in it. When we bought this house it was second choice. The house we really wanted, the one we had an offer on, was sold to someone else for a cash offer. We didn't blame the seller but we really were kind of "bummed." How glad I am that didn't get that house. So many things would have been different.
Things work out. Life goes on. Friends come and go but some stay friends forever.
I have a lot of those forever friends. When I see them it's like I open my heart up and let my vulnerability show. I can do that. I trust them, they would never betray me even though our lives only touch occasionally. They are old friends. Best friends.
Some old, best friends are even relatively new but they already have the "old" and "best" friend label. I know where they'll be in twenty years. Right where Cheryl is now.
I am blessed.
I remember one time one of us called the other and said, "We need to talk." We met in some little dive and had dessert. We both said, "I've got some bad news." We talked and listened, cried, hugged and took deep breaths and got on with our lives. It was comforting to know someone else was dealing with hard times while I was too. I wanted her life to be easy, wanted mine to be easy too, but it wasn't. We grew stronger together.
We used to sneak away when we could and go to late movies together. It seems like that was the only time we could schedule, when the kids were taken care of and in bed. We've laughed more than is believable. Phil says he always knows when I'm talking to Cheryl on the phone because of all the laughter.
I don't know what my life would have been like without Cheryl in it. When we bought this house it was second choice. The house we really wanted, the one we had an offer on, was sold to someone else for a cash offer. We didn't blame the seller but we really were kind of "bummed." How glad I am that didn't get that house. So many things would have been different.
Things work out. Life goes on. Friends come and go but some stay friends forever.
I have a lot of those forever friends. When I see them it's like I open my heart up and let my vulnerability show. I can do that. I trust them, they would never betray me even though our lives only touch occasionally. They are old friends. Best friends.
Some old, best friends are even relatively new but they already have the "old" and "best" friend label. I know where they'll be in twenty years. Right where Cheryl is now.
I am blessed.
Monday, June 30, 2008
THE ANATOMY OF SWINGERS
Ha! Got your attention, didn't I? Not that kind of swingers, just friends, sitting on the lawn swings, swinging.
Saturday's Swingers: Just Phil and me. We sat together, which we don't always do as the newer swings are more comfortable for him, the older ones are more comfortable for me. He put his arm around me and we sat, mostly in silence, enjoying the closeness and companionship. It was like old times, dating times when we could sit and talk for hours.
Yesterday's Swingers: Dona, Mark, Pam, Phil and me. We laughed so much and so loud that today our neighbor--across the street--who was in the house last night but heard us--asked to be let in on yesterday's joke. It was funny, a hilarious story, but would leave something in the translation. That Dona, she has a story for every occasion.
Today's Swingers: Joan, David, Kim, Genny, Dick, Boyd, Betty, Phil and me. Subjects today were more serious, a bit of joking, Boyd brought Australian licorice and dark chocolate. We watched the comings and goings in the neighborhood, waved to neighbors. Nate rode by on his bike and then stopped for a half hour or so and gave us news of one of his sisters, who some of us taught in Young Women's. She has another cancer but not an aggressive one. She will be in all our prayers tonight.
We are a close neighborhood. Share each other's joys and tragedies. Share jokes. Share friendships. Share treats. Share anticipated trips to J-Dawg--some have not been to J-Dawg yet. Unbelievable.
Which is where Pam and Sarah and I went to today. Which is a story for another day but if you are local to Provo and Orem you owe yourself a trip. Get it with extra sauce and extra banana peppers and unless you are a spicy Dawg lover, avoid the jalapenos. Don't forget the Smart Cookie while you are there. Sarah buys them by the dozen.
Saturday's Swingers: Just Phil and me. We sat together, which we don't always do as the newer swings are more comfortable for him, the older ones are more comfortable for me. He put his arm around me and we sat, mostly in silence, enjoying the closeness and companionship. It was like old times, dating times when we could sit and talk for hours.
Yesterday's Swingers: Dona, Mark, Pam, Phil and me. We laughed so much and so loud that today our neighbor--across the street--who was in the house last night but heard us--asked to be let in on yesterday's joke. It was funny, a hilarious story, but would leave something in the translation. That Dona, she has a story for every occasion.
Today's Swingers: Joan, David, Kim, Genny, Dick, Boyd, Betty, Phil and me. Subjects today were more serious, a bit of joking, Boyd brought Australian licorice and dark chocolate. We watched the comings and goings in the neighborhood, waved to neighbors. Nate rode by on his bike and then stopped for a half hour or so and gave us news of one of his sisters, who some of us taught in Young Women's. She has another cancer but not an aggressive one. She will be in all our prayers tonight.
We are a close neighborhood. Share each other's joys and tragedies. Share jokes. Share friendships. Share treats. Share anticipated trips to J-Dawg--some have not been to J-Dawg yet. Unbelievable.
Which is where Pam and Sarah and I went to today. Which is a story for another day but if you are local to Provo and Orem you owe yourself a trip. Get it with extra sauce and extra banana peppers and unless you are a spicy Dawg lover, avoid the jalapenos. Don't forget the Smart Cookie while you are there. Sarah buys them by the dozen.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
MOVIE: THE PRIZE WINNER OF DEFIANCE, OHIO
Yesterday our Net Flix movie came. The Prize Winner of Defiance, Ohio. This was another of my choices. The one before it was also mine, Whale Rider. A gripping Maori film. Well, I liked it. It was a gentle movie. If Phil wants real gripping, action packed movies he needs to get busy and order some. I just ordered three more, just like this one, movies that I've never heard of, gentle, heartwarming movies. 
This movie was based on a true story of a woman who, with her wit, determination and writing ability, entered contests and won.
Early on, we see the milkman--we saw him a lot--telling her he couldn't deliver her milk because she couldn't pay. Just then the mailman brought the mail and she opened up an envelope that contained two dollars winnings from a contest she had entered. She paid the milkman and got her milk.
All through the movie she won things. A freezer, a Triumph car, which she had to sell but she sat in it a lot, enjoying it while she had it even though she didn't drive.
She even won a frenzied shopping trip where she loaded her cart with things like button mushrooms, caviar and capers, sides of bacon and steak. She rejoiced in each item and helped the kids rejoice in them too. They had a feast with all the things she had put in her cart but her disgruntled husband refused to join in the fun. He opened a can of spam and ate it cold out of the can.
What I liked most about the movie was that she was happy. She had ten kids and an alcoholic husband. She could barely keep ahead of the bills and she was happy. She was happy about little things and big things and she taught her kids that they were important and valued and she was happy they were hers.
My favorite line in the movie--her pessimistic husband, who drank his way into the family's near ruin was criticising her for being happy--I should have made Phil back the DVD up so I could quote it exactly but she said something like: "I just want you to not ruin things when I am happy."
I've been thinking about the movie ever since. She was happy no matter what. We all have things we are sad about. Children we worry about, husbands who left us--mine hasn't but if I keep ordering grade B movies, maybe--diseases, deaths of loved ones, lost jobs, lost loves, lost lives--or so we think, bad hair, bad shoes, bad attitudes, etc. Why can't we be happy, like this woman was, anyway? Yes, we are sad about sad things but can't we be happy about little things, like she was?
The scripture, "Man is that he might have joy," keeps coming back to me, again and again. Our Heavenly Father wants us to have joy, to be joyful. Here. Now. Even with the tough times. We knew we were going to face tough times when we came here and yet we "shouted for joy" at the opportunity to come.
My wish for all of us today: for you, who are sad today, for you who are happy today, and for me, who might or might not be sad or happy today, is that we might find joy in our lives. Not when things get better, not when the trials are over, but right now. I wish we might have joy in our lives like the woman in this film.
Find something to be joyful about. You are a daughter of a Heavenly Father who loves you. That's a biggie, isn't it? That's worth a whole bucket, overflowing with joy, every day. What a miracle that we have that knowledge. He loves us, he watches over us. No, he does not stop the bad things from happening but he helps us to have the strength to live through them.
And he wants us to be happy.
And we will, won't we? Sure. We can do that. We can do anything because after all, we are children of Heavenly Father.
This movie was based on a true story of a woman who, with her wit, determination and writing ability, entered contests and won.
Early on, we see the milkman--we saw him a lot--telling her he couldn't deliver her milk because she couldn't pay. Just then the mailman brought the mail and she opened up an envelope that contained two dollars winnings from a contest she had entered. She paid the milkman and got her milk.
All through the movie she won things. A freezer, a Triumph car, which she had to sell but she sat in it a lot, enjoying it while she had it even though she didn't drive.
She even won a frenzied shopping trip where she loaded her cart with things like button mushrooms, caviar and capers, sides of bacon and steak. She rejoiced in each item and helped the kids rejoice in them too. They had a feast with all the things she had put in her cart but her disgruntled husband refused to join in the fun. He opened a can of spam and ate it cold out of the can.
What I liked most about the movie was that she was happy. She had ten kids and an alcoholic husband. She could barely keep ahead of the bills and she was happy. She was happy about little things and big things and she taught her kids that they were important and valued and she was happy they were hers. My favorite line in the movie--her pessimistic husband, who drank his way into the family's near ruin was criticising her for being happy--I should have made Phil back the DVD up so I could quote it exactly but she said something like: "I just want you to not ruin things when I am happy."
I've been thinking about the movie ever since. She was happy no matter what. We all have things we are sad about. Children we worry about, husbands who left us--mine hasn't but if I keep ordering grade B movies, maybe--diseases, deaths of loved ones, lost jobs, lost loves, lost lives--or so we think, bad hair, bad shoes, bad attitudes, etc. Why can't we be happy, like this woman was, anyway? Yes, we are sad about sad things but can't we be happy about little things, like she was?
The scripture, "Man is that he might have joy," keeps coming back to me, again and again. Our Heavenly Father wants us to have joy, to be joyful. Here. Now. Even with the tough times. We knew we were going to face tough times when we came here and yet we "shouted for joy" at the opportunity to come.
My wish for all of us today: for you, who are sad today, for you who are happy today, and for me, who might or might not be sad or happy today, is that we might find joy in our lives. Not when things get better, not when the trials are over, but right now. I wish we might have joy in our lives like the woman in this film.
Find something to be joyful about. You are a daughter of a Heavenly Father who loves you. That's a biggie, isn't it? That's worth a whole bucket, overflowing with joy, every day. What a miracle that we have that knowledge. He loves us, he watches over us. No, he does not stop the bad things from happening but he helps us to have the strength to live through them.
And he wants us to be happy.
And we will, won't we? Sure. We can do that. We can do anything because after all, we are children of Heavenly Father.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
SIX WORD SATURDAY 6-28-08
Tub people reunited, just like real people.
I used seven words, but some days I have only used five, so I'm borrowing a word from when I was spare in text.
I used seven words, but some days I have only used five, so I'm borrowing a word from when I was spare in text.
A SUMMER READ--THE TUB PEOPLE
Today we got a call from one of our grandchildren, Joe Cool. He said he and Hollywood wanted to come over. What for? Just to come over. They did and then Mary Poppins called and wanted to come too. Just to come over. Not to do anything special.
I fixed some lunch--not much, just a peanut butter and honey sandwich and some grape slush and then we sat on the lawn swings and I read books to them. They were content to just sit there and let me read and read. It was like old times when I used to read to my own children.
One of the books I read was by the author Pam Conrad called THE TUB PEOPLE. I saw her years ago at a BYU Writer's conference. I was impressed with the love she had for her stories. In fact, hearing her passion was maybe one of the reasons I thought I might want to write.
THE TUB PEOPLE is one of my favorite picture books. Joe Cool, Mary Poppins and Hollywood said it was one of their favorite books too so I must have read it to them before. It is about loss and reuniting.
The Tub Boy is lost down the drain. No one smiles anymore. Finally a plumber comes and rescues him but puts him in the bottom of the tool box, snaps it shut and leaves. And then...they are all reunited on a soft bed. It is exactly like my belief of death and resurrection. I told the grandchildren what I thought the book was really about and hope they understood.
The Tub Boy is lost down the drain. No one smiles anymore. Finally a plumber comes and rescues him but puts him in the bottom of the tool box, snaps it shut and leaves. And then...they are all reunited on a soft bed. It is exactly like my belief of death and resurrection. I told the grandchildren what I thought the book was really about and hope they understood.
Pam is gone now, she died young, she was 48. She died almost exactly eight years ago. She left a legacy of wonderfully written books that I treasure.
I also hope that someday, my grandchildren might remember a summer day, sitting on the lawn swings, slurping grape slush and listening to their grandmother read wonderful words to them. I hope they might remember that she talked about comforting things, about death not being totally sad because the Savior made resurrection possible for all of us. I hope they will remember that we will all be together again.
We have all lost someone so Pam's words are comforting. Comforting for me. I hope they are comforting for you.
It was a good summer day. Sitting on the lawn swings, reading and having three of my grandchildren all to myself.
Friday, June 27, 2008
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PAM
It's my friend's birthday. What is she doing to celebrate? Tending her grandchildren. Not for a couple of hours but for three days! Holy Moley. Three days. She's..."a better man than I am, Gunga Din!" She and her husband are making an impact on those kids lives. Their grandchildren are going to grow up knowing exactly what their grandparents stand for. They will be better people because they have such dedicated grandparents in their lives. Happy Birthday, Pam--who never stops, never takes a day off from being a good example, from trying--and succeeding--to be a better person.
So, I'm taking stock of my what-am-I-trying-to-be life. And you know what? I'm not sure. Oh, now if you really ask me I can give you the answers. What I'm wondering is what does my day-to-day life show that I am trying to be. I think it's not a pretty answer.
Happy Birthday, Pam who has it all figured out even though she is also operating under the influence of number three, AND is tending her grandchildren.
So, I'm taking stock of my what-am-I-trying-to-be life. And you know what? I'm not sure. Oh, now if you really ask me I can give you the answers. What I'm wondering is what does my day-to-day life show that I am trying to be. I think it's not a pretty answer.
- I must be trying to be a magician--I think I can pull dinner out of thin air.
- I must be trying to live on charity--if I wait long enough the laundry will get folded--by someone else.
- I must be conducting a scientific experinment--I'm trying to see what happens when I'm sleep deprived.
- I must be trying to be a mind reader--or letting other people have the privledge of reading my mind--I don't return phone calls/emails when I should. I mean to, time just gets away from me.
Happy Birthday, Pam who has it all figured out even though she is also operating under the influence of number three, AND is tending her grandchildren.
SIX WORD THURSDAY 6-26-08
I didn't cry, but wanted to.
PS Don't worry about my crying--or wanting to. It was about the lost documents. All is well here. Thanks, Jyotsana, for your tender heart.
PS Don't worry about my crying--or wanting to. It was about the lost documents. All is well here. Thanks, Jyotsana, for your tender heart.
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