Wishes on Trevi Fountain

At Trevi Fountain, you throw in a coin for good luck. Legend has it that you should throw two coins over your shoulder into the fountain; one coin grants your wish and the other ensures your eventual return to Rome. I only threw one coin - so I guess I'm not coming back, but I wished for all of you - so if good things start to happen, you'll know why. They say they recover $4500 per day from the fountain! That's good luck to somebody.

Blessing from the Pope

We wen to the Vatican today - as that is where the hotel shuttle bus drops us off. The Vatican was the first place we visited when we arrived. We saw the Sistine chapel and Vatican museum with virtually no lines. Today, however, was a totally different story. There were people snaked around the outside wall of the Vatican for blocks. As we walked to the Castel Sant'Angeloacross from the Vatican, we faced waves of people making their way to the center of the courtyard to receive blessings from the Pope. Greg asked it I thought I needed blessings from the Pope, but I was happy to leave more for the others who clamored for a prime position.

The Castel was amazing. A woman I met on the plane to Atlanta said it was one of her favorite things in Rome. I liked it as well. It was more "put together" than some of the other sites.

After seeing Trevi Fountain, Plazza Navona, and the Pantheon, we had a wonderful Italian lunch on the street - Ravioli and Brechetta. Yum!












Outside the Pantheon

Inside the Pantheon

Piazza Navona

Colosseum

If I had only seen Gladiator - the whole Colosseum day would have been better. But even without the benefit of the movie, it was an awesome place.

Ah ha!

I just had an "ah ha" moment. I have figured out why my sister-in-law, Lori, can spend days with Photoshop. It is SO AWKWARD to use. I just spent over an hour to add a wordle (of my Relief Society lesson) to an image of a loaf of bread for a handout. I'm using Elder Christofferson's talk on "Give Us This Day our Daily Bread", but combining the images was PAINFUL. I sure hope it gets easier, because nothing about this is obvious.

Rome here I come...

I head to Rome within the week for a conference. In searching for a guidebook, when I found this "Lonely Planet" book dedicated just to Rome, I remembered Stephanie's fiance always referring to the Lonely Planet. So, Gabe, I'm trusting you on this one.

The book has already been good luck. Greg saw it on the counter and volunteered to come with me. It should be a great time.

Dot to dot

I have been reading several books by Sue Monk Kidd. In an early book, Firstlight, she says that she keeps one of those dot-to-dot pictures, a gift from a four-year-old, on her desk. A complicated picture is formed by simply moving the pencil from dot to dot – in many cases, the "artist" does not even know what she is drawing. On days when I can’t see where my life is going or tremble at the fears of the unknown, I cling to that image and tell myself, “Dot to Dot. You do not need to solve everything at once. Just move to the next dot.”

In a recent CES fireside address, Elder Christofferson's message was similar.He states, "In the 1950s my mother survived radical cancer surgery, but difficult as that was, the surgery was followed with dozens of painful radiation treatments in what would now be considered rather primitive medical conditions. She recalls that her mother taught her something during that time that has helped her ever since: “I was so sick and weak, and I said to her one day, ‘Oh, Mother, I can’t stand having 16 more of those treatments.’ She said, ‘Can you go today?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Well, honey, that’s all you have to do today.’ It has helped me many times when I remember to take one day or one thing at a time.” I love that.

Remembering Great Grandma Hurst

While the grandkids do not remember Great Grandma Hurst, I like to think of the joy she must get looking down and seeing them play trains on her oak table. In her home, the table held a place of honor in her living room - a remembrance of the styles and values of her childhood. Seeing them play with trains and enjoy books reminds me of my mother and the things she loved most - relationships, children, and education.

Jello Water Eggs

Baths have always been a fun time with the grandkids. The bath toys are a motley collection - play food, kitchen toys, travel squirt bottles, an over-sized spider that Drew does NOT allow in the water, and a jello mold for Easter eggs. I started to explain that my Mother had given the pink plastic jello mold to the kids. You filled it from the top, set the jello, and then had to unmold it by placing it in hot water. I told Brooke and Drew that it never worked very well. Either it would get stuck or you would leave it too long, creating watery jello eggs. Drew thought Jello Water Eggs sounded great. So we would submerge the egg tray under water to fill it. Then, I would swing the tray, flipping water over everyone and singing

I'm going to school with my jello water eggs
I'm going to school with my jello water eggs
I'm going to school with my jello water eggs
OHHH, what happened? All my jello water eggs are gone.

Drew would laugh and laugh, pointing to my wet shirt,and clamoring, "Again, Again."

Here is a picture of Brooke with the tray for Jello Water Eggs.

After bath, Brooke heads to the closet to begin the fashion show with Grandma's shoes and her fancy dress.

Drew found matching boots and insisted they be zipped up.

Drew, looking absolutely angelic.

Remembering Christmas

I am gathering information for my writing class. Does anyone have REAL pictures of the items I mention or other memories??

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I can’t think of Christmas without thinking of my Mother. Mother was a large lady with an even larger personality. She had a ready laugh, and when you were with her, you felt like the most important person to her. Christmas was her holiday.

Christmas 2005

The house was always decorated for the holidays, with new decorations added each year. She was quite a sale shopper, so what went on half-off sales after Christmas adorned our living room the next year. In the early years, many of the decorations were homemade. Dad (who taught computer science) provided the punch cards for the wreath that was stapled and spray painted gold or silver.

Many years she made wreathes of wrapped candy.

Her sucker tree was always popular.

I loved the houses she made of sugar cubes and always thought I would get to eat them after Christmas, but it never seemed to happen.

Gingerbread houses were another family favorite. She didn’t cheat and use graham crackers, but painstakingly baked the gingerbread on jelly roll pans and cut it to shape. The pieces were glued together with a cooked sugar that looked (and tasted) nasty, but was sturdy.

Mom and Dad got lots of Christmas cards and would attach them to the walls as decorations.

Chocolate dipping was a huge endeavor. Mom spent hours and hours making mints, cherry chocolates, peanut clusters, turtles, and caramels. Plates were delivered to all the neighbors. It was important to her that, as adults, we children carried on the tradition.







Mom loved a flocked tree and would spend hours decorating it. Sometimes the kids would help by literally throwing the icicles at the tree.

We went to two Christmas trees shortly after that – where we had a kid’s tree with our homemade ornaments in the basement, but the “show tree” with her lovely things filled the living room.
Later, her love of Christmas took on a more sophisticated look as she had expensive ornaments, a village that filled the living room, and beautiful nativity sets from all over the world.




Acting out the nativity was done every Christmas Eve.

On Christmas Eve, we had a big family dinner and were allowed to open one gift. You waited for the nod from Mom so you didn’t waste your “one gift” opening up underwear or socks. We put out our Christmas stockings and set out a plate of sugar cookies and milk for Santa. Dad would read the Christmas Story from the bible as the kids acted out the nativity scene. We went to bed with strict instructions NOT to get up until we could see our hand in front of our face. On Christmas morning, I would be awakened in the dead of night with my older brother saying, “I think I can see my hand in front of my face. Can you?” We would sneak into the living room to examine our Santa gifts (which were always unwrapped). When the noise got too loud, my father would come in and yell, “My Lordy, it is 2 a.m.. Go back to bed.” When we were allowed to finally get up, we first played with our presents from Santa and then looked for treasures from our stockings. Eventually, someone would suggest that we open the wrapped gifts from parents, siblings, and grandparents. Those gifts were usually more practical than the Santa gifts. I used to wonder why I got such nice gifts from Santa who barely knew me (as I was much too shy to enjoy sitting on his lap) and such boring gifts from my parents (who I knew loved me dearly).

Over the years, mother never lost her love of Christmas. As shopping became more difficult, QVC became her best friend. She had her credit card number memorized and was constantly retrieving packages from the front porch. As she aged, the grandkids were her favorite to shop for. Often her children got a generous check (as I think she secretly wanted to spend their wealth before she died), but the grandkids always got something to open. Recent grandchild gifts were a picture of the temple (for those who were married), various items for the Demdaco Willow Tree nativity sets each married granddaughter was collecting, and a wind up dog for a twenty-something grandson who complained he never got to have the dog he always wanted as a child.



Mom often gave the grandchildren ornaments. When Greg complained that he didn’t seem to have his ornaments from grandmother, the next Christmas he opened up a box of wooden ornaments from her collection. On each she had marked, “Greg, Christmas 1983” or “Greg, 1984”. We all got a good laugh out of the collection of “memory” ornaments.


Mom loved giving. When the family was young, funds were tight, but Mom would save all year just to be able to have a picture perfect Christmas. She loved figuring out what each child and grandchild would want. She loved shopping. She loved the cooking. She loved Christmas in all its glory. How did she keep the love of Christmas in tough economic times or with the chaos of grandbabies, late night movies, and loss of sleep? How did she keep the joy alive through old age, sickness, and the loss of her mate? That secret died with her. I think it was part of her Christmas magic.

Yiddish proverb: “If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans.”

After getting our Christmas letter, a dear Jewish friend from Fort Collins just sent an email to tell of us his concern for our family and that he was praying for us. He was our department head. He writes:

Receiving your Holiday Letter took me back some decades to the time that Lori and Kim first became ill, and, I believe, had their spleens removed. It’s odd but I still remember praying for them during the time at our Sabbath service where prayers are said on behalf of those who are ill. I don’t think I’ve mentioned this to you before, but as I’ve gotten older, and maybe more understanding, I’ve appreciated how much it means to me when somebody tells me they’ve prayed for me or a family member. Yesterday, I again prayed for Lori and Kim during our Sabbath service. A lot of memories were brought back.

We have been so blessed to have such good friends. The proverb is his.