Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Chapel of the Holy Cross
This working chapel in Sedona had the cutest gift shop.
Many of the items had a religious flair. My favorite was a plaque containing this message.
Do you know what would have happened if it had been Three Wise Women instead of Three Wise Men? They would have asked directions, arrived on time, helped deliver the baby, cleaned the stable, made a casserole, brought practical gifts and there would be Peace On Earth
Many of the items had a religious flair. My favorite was a plaque containing this message.
Do you know what would have happened if it had been Three Wise Women instead of Three Wise Men? They would have asked directions, arrived on time, helped deliver the baby, cleaned the stable, made a casserole, brought practical gifts and there would be Peace On Earth
Monday, March 7, 2011
Friday, March 4, 2011
Spur of the moment
I guess its the week for spur of the moment decisions. We decided at 6:35 to go to the BYU Men's Chorus performance that started at 7 tonight. The tabernacle was packed. We wouldn't have even gotten in except for they created a new front row of folding chairs. Steve got stuck on the side, but I had an amazing view. They were absolutely delightful.
On Thursday night, as I was leaving a bridal shower, Judy Nielsen chased after me to ask what we were doing for Spring Break. She then invited us to go with them to Sedona, Arizona. We'll be gone for a week. It should be great fun. Hope it turns out as well as the dash to the BYU Men's Chorus.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Not for sissies
I learned this week that a high school friend - Richard Daines - passed away. Heart attach they think. Richard and I have been friends since gradeschool. He was a doctor and Commissioner of Health for the state of New York. He was bright and funny. He made being smart something to be desired. I liked him a ton. It seemed like just yesterday we laughed and talked at our forty year reunion. I'm so glad I got that chance to catch up. I hadn't seen him in years. How tough for his family to have him snatched away so quickly.
Another friend has been diagnosed with multi-domain MCI (mild cognitive impairment). He's barely over sixty - too young for such a disease. The multi-domain part means the impairment is more than just memory loss, but effects recalling stories, switching gears in thought process, finding alternative solutions, and following inference. I can't imagine how that must feel, like being caught in a nightmare where things just don't make sense.
Yet another friend was just diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. She is dizzy and has chronic pain. She has had problems for years, but just now received the diagnosis.
You wonder which would be the worst - losing a husband in an instance, losing your faculties bit by bit, or dealing with MS. Likely the one that is the worst is the one YOU are dealing with.
This life isn't for sissies.
Another friend has been diagnosed with multi-domain MCI (mild cognitive impairment). He's barely over sixty - too young for such a disease. The multi-domain part means the impairment is more than just memory loss, but effects recalling stories, switching gears in thought process, finding alternative solutions, and following inference. I can't imagine how that must feel, like being caught in a nightmare where things just don't make sense.
Yet another friend was just diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. She is dizzy and has chronic pain. She has had problems for years, but just now received the diagnosis.
You wonder which would be the worst - losing a husband in an instance, losing your faculties bit by bit, or dealing with MS. Likely the one that is the worst is the one YOU are dealing with.
This life isn't for sissies.
Myth: It is better to remain silent
There is a saying, "It is better to remain silent and thought a fool, than to speak up and remove all doubt." It is a myth. Some students never ask questions. They assume you will think they know everything as they have no questions, but they are wrong. Why would that be a logical conclusion? Those who are learning are asking question. I can tell so much about what a person understands from the questions they ask. I just gave a test today. The two students who got nearly perfect scores were no surprise. I had known they were extremely talented - from their questions!
I love the statement by Joseph McConkie (son of Bruce R.): "My father and grandfathers had a great love of the gospel and were marvelous sources of understanding. I have, however, a distinct memory of the occasion when I went to my father with some gospel questions only to receive the following response: “Look, Junior, you have the same sources available to you as I have to me.” More important than any answers these men gave to my questions was their teaching me how to get answers for myself. They are now gone. Questions continue, as does the confidence that the same sources that were available to them are available to me."
I love it both for the message and for the fact that Joseph McConkie admits he has questions. In listening to a BYUI devotional the other day, the speaker said that true disciples never question. I found that offensive. It is okay to have questions. I think true disciples have a desire to believe versus a critical attitude, but it is okay to question as that is how you understand. So much of the Doctrine and Covenants is answers to questions.
Some say, "I have always known the church is true." While that is great for them, it is difficult to pass that along.
I question, but the gospel is a package deal, not a smorgasbord where you pick up the chocolate covered strawberries and leave the three bean salad. Either Joseph Smith is who he says he is and the Book or Mormon was received and translated as he said it was or Joseph Smith is a fraud. You can't have it both ways. You can't pick and choose. There is no middle ground. Like puzzle pieces you can't quite place - you don't throw them away because they don't fit yet. You place them to the side until their role in the puzzle is clear. Plural marriage is one of those misfit puzzle pieces for me. Yet, the rest of the puzzle is a thing of beauty and growing each year. I'll just put the plural marriage piece to the side (or maybe throw it off the table altogether) for now.
I love the statement by Joseph McConkie (son of Bruce R.): "My father and grandfathers had a great love of the gospel and were marvelous sources of understanding. I have, however, a distinct memory of the occasion when I went to my father with some gospel questions only to receive the following response: “Look, Junior, you have the same sources available to you as I have to me.” More important than any answers these men gave to my questions was their teaching me how to get answers for myself. They are now gone. Questions continue, as does the confidence that the same sources that were available to them are available to me."
I love it both for the message and for the fact that Joseph McConkie admits he has questions. In listening to a BYUI devotional the other day, the speaker said that true disciples never question. I found that offensive. It is okay to have questions. I think true disciples have a desire to believe versus a critical attitude, but it is okay to question as that is how you understand. So much of the Doctrine and Covenants is answers to questions.
Some say, "I have always known the church is true." While that is great for them, it is difficult to pass that along.
I question, but the gospel is a package deal, not a smorgasbord where you pick up the chocolate covered strawberries and leave the three bean salad. Either Joseph Smith is who he says he is and the Book or Mormon was received and translated as he said it was or Joseph Smith is a fraud. You can't have it both ways. You can't pick and choose. There is no middle ground. Like puzzle pieces you can't quite place - you don't throw them away because they don't fit yet. You place them to the side until their role in the puzzle is clear. Plural marriage is one of those misfit puzzle pieces for me. Yet, the rest of the puzzle is a thing of beauty and growing each year. I'll just put the plural marriage piece to the side (or maybe throw it off the table altogether) for now.
Classic Moment
Last night we went to see the 5 Browns with our good friends. They are five siblings who are all Julliard trained classical piano players. Today, I was giving an exam and decided I wanted to look up their ages. Since I was in a media equipped classroom, I decided just to use the computer in the room. My google search revealed that they are between 32 and 25, originally born in Houston. The each showed amazing talent and interest in the piano at age three. They were home schooled, which evidently gave them the freedom to attend Juliard at the same time. My google searching was going great until I landed on a website which just started playing one of their songs - loudly, getting attention throughout the classroom. I couldn't kill the window fast enough. It was a "classic moment" to be sure. It was pretty funny.
They have been in the news recently for bringing suit against their father for abusing the girls over an eight year period. The father pleaded guilty and is awaiting sentencing. I didn't expect them to say anything about the court case, but they did. At the beginning, the older brother said something like, "Thanks for supporting us at this difficult time. Being able to play for you is what we love." How absolutely horrible it would be to make the decision to turn your father in, knowing that would mean he would be in prison for years. Can you imagine the rift that would create between you and both of your parents, to say nothing of extended family? I can't imagine.
The performance was delightful. At the end, being as it is Cache Valley, there was the 'required' standing ovation. The performers ate it up - coming out for curtain call after curtain call. They performed one more number, but in a later curtain call, almost spontaneously, the older brother decided to sing a song. He is not a singer, but the message was poignant:
When you try your best, but you don't succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse
And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
When high up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth
Tears sprang to my eyes. The middle daughter was very emotional and crossed her arms over her heart signifying love for the audience. I was touched. Likely, the love and support they feel in performing is what is keeping them sane.
They have been in the news recently for bringing suit against their father for abusing the girls over an eight year period. The father pleaded guilty and is awaiting sentencing. I didn't expect them to say anything about the court case, but they did. At the beginning, the older brother said something like, "Thanks for supporting us at this difficult time. Being able to play for you is what we love." How absolutely horrible it would be to make the decision to turn your father in, knowing that would mean he would be in prison for years. Can you imagine the rift that would create between you and both of your parents, to say nothing of extended family? I can't imagine.
The performance was delightful. At the end, being as it is Cache Valley, there was the 'required' standing ovation. The performers ate it up - coming out for curtain call after curtain call. They performed one more number, but in a later curtain call, almost spontaneously, the older brother decided to sing a song. He is not a singer, but the message was poignant:
When you try your best, but you don't succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse
And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
When high up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth
Tears sprang to my eyes. The middle daughter was very emotional and crossed her arms over her heart signifying love for the audience. I was touched. Likely, the love and support they feel in performing is what is keeping them sane.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Say hello to Mr. Angry eyes!
Drew is such a sweet little guy. With all his ALPS issues, he has more challenges than any almost four year old child should need to cope with. Last week, his platelets dropped, requiring a transfusion. Going back to preschool later in the week, he was self conscious of his bruises. That makes me feel so badly - both that he has to endure the illness and that he is concerned about being different.
However, he may have discovered a solution. Before story time at preschool, when everyone was quiet, he got in character as Mr Potato Head (from Toy Story 2) and shouted, "Say hello to Mr. Angry eyes!" Everybody was in hysterics, including the teachers. So if you have to laugh or cry, I'm with Drew. Let's have the laughing!
However, he may have discovered a solution. Before story time at preschool, when everyone was quiet, he got in character as Mr Potato Head (from Toy Story 2) and shouted, "Say hello to Mr. Angry eyes!" Everybody was in hysterics, including the teachers. So if you have to laugh or cry, I'm with Drew. Let's have the laughing!
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Adults say the darndest things
Art Linkletter used to have a television series with a segment entitled, "Kids say the darndest things" - but I'm thinking kids can't compare with adults.
At our marriage soiree, I talked to two of our ward members. One is a good friend and neighbor (and wife of our stake president). When I told her Chelle's news of monoamniotic twins, the concerned etched her face and then she finally said, "You just had it too easy when they were teenagers. We would look at your family during those years when everything was going perfectly and wonder, 'What are we doing wrong?'" I thought that was so interesting. Who knew she was secretly in awe of how well things appeared to be going. She has been so supportive over the years. When she learned of Kim's divorce, tears sprang to her eyes. When I told her about ALPS, she had to know exactly who had it and who didn't. She has been a good friend, truly one who mourns with those that mourn.
The other interesting comment was from an older sister in the ward. She said, "What is Greg doing?" I told her, but she clearly wanted to get to her message which was, "I have a 24 year old granddaughter who is single. Maybe we could set them up?" I thought that was so funny. She really doesn't even know Greg, but hey, he's single and she's single. Got to be a match made in heaven.
At our marriage soiree, I talked to two of our ward members. One is a good friend and neighbor (and wife of our stake president). When I told her Chelle's news of monoamniotic twins, the concerned etched her face and then she finally said, "You just had it too easy when they were teenagers. We would look at your family during those years when everything was going perfectly and wonder, 'What are we doing wrong?'" I thought that was so interesting. Who knew she was secretly in awe of how well things appeared to be going. She has been so supportive over the years. When she learned of Kim's divorce, tears sprang to her eyes. When I told her about ALPS, she had to know exactly who had it and who didn't. She has been a good friend, truly one who mourns with those that mourn.
The other interesting comment was from an older sister in the ward. She said, "What is Greg doing?" I told her, but she clearly wanted to get to her message which was, "I have a 24 year old granddaughter who is single. Maybe we could set them up?" I thought that was so funny. She really doesn't even know Greg, but hey, he's single and she's single. Got to be a match made in heaven.
If you feed them, they will come.
We had a stake "Marriage Soiree". It has typically been a sit down dinner, a speaker, and then dancing. This year the dinner was replaced with "finger food". The attendance was HORRIBLE. I'll bet there weren't many more than a hundred there. From our ward, I could count six couples - and only two couples that weren't involved as stake leaders or on the committee. It was too bad, because the "finger food" was substantial enough to be a dinner - if you went through the line a few times. Chocolate covered strawberries, vegetables and dip, three bean salad, asparagus, mushrooms, fresh fruit, tiny pulled pork sandwiches. It was great!
My favorite part of the evening was a story teller (Suzanne Hudson) who portrayed Eliza R Snow, poetess and charismatic leader of women. She was the tenth wife of Joseph Smith (the love of her heart) and the eighth wife of Brigham Young. After Joseph Smith was martyred, she asked Brigham Young, "Who will be my champion?" He responded, "Eliza R Snow." While that isn't what she hoped to hear, I love the message. If you aren't your own champion, who will be?
My favorite part of the evening was a story teller (Suzanne Hudson) who portrayed Eliza R Snow, poetess and charismatic leader of women. She was the tenth wife of Joseph Smith (the love of her heart) and the eighth wife of Brigham Young. After Joseph Smith was martyred, she asked Brigham Young, "Who will be my champion?" He responded, "Eliza R Snow." While that isn't what she hoped to hear, I love the message. If you aren't your own champion, who will be?
Friday, February 25, 2011
The tradition continues
When the folks were alive, we would often gather at Maddox for dinner. It has been years since the folks could join us, but tonight we continued the tradition. Gary was here on a skiing trip for three days. Cherri made the three hour plus trek from Idaho in a blizzard. Craig and I (and spouses) filled out the table. Ashley represented the nieces and nephews. It was a great time. I'm sure mom and dad were looking down and craving that trout and the raspberry butter.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
If it were fair, it wouldn't be a test
I was reading Lone Survivor (before I had to return it half read because of language). He talks about the various tests of endurance the SEALS were asked to endure in their training. In addition to physical stress, they were asked to endure emotional trials. One day there was a room check. One of the SEALS had spent hours getting his room perfect. When it came time for room check, he found that his room had been trashed. An instructor had sneaked through the window, trashed the room, and then exited - only to enter later and given him heck for having an uncleaned room. The explanation for doing such a thing was something like this: physical challenges are one thing, but what gets to you are the emotional ones. The very unfairness of the situation is what made it a particularly telling test. Could they endure unfairness and be able to get past it?
I have thought a lot about that. We do A, B, C and expect to get D. When we get Q instead, that is difficult to get our minds around.
I have thought a lot about that. We do A, B, C and expect to get D. When we get Q instead, that is difficult to get our minds around.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Crying in WalMart
With cell phones, you can be absolutely anywhere when you get that phone call. Yesterday, I got one of those calls while I was in WalMart. The tears sprang to my eyes and coursed down my cheeks while I stood, glued in one spot in the produce department. Now, when I'm talking on the phone, I'm oblivious to everything around me. [When I had young kids, they took advantage of that fact. I'd often find them dancing on the table when I hung up the phone.] I decided I couldn't possibly decide whether to pay $2.78 for spinach while I was talking on the phone, and motioned for Steve to push the cart along. After my phone call ended, Steve pointed out the others who had seen my distress and been concerned. In WalMart of all places. Who would have guessed? I must say that I live in a pretty incredible place - with caring, supportive people - even in WalMart.
Day by Day
I love these thoughts...
Todd Christofferson writes, "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.”
Joseph McConkie states: As we venture out, we would like a ready source to tell us how to handle every difficult situation. But that is not the Lord’s system. It is not the design of heaven that we be rescued from all difficult situations. Rather, it is the Lord’s will that we learn to handle them. The sense of being overwhelmed is very much a part of the journey. The power with which God clothes us in His holy temples does not imply that our journey will be an easy one.
Todd Christofferson writes, "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.”
Joseph McConkie states: As we venture out, we would like a ready source to tell us how to handle every difficult situation. But that is not the Lord’s system. It is not the design of heaven that we be rescued from all difficult situations. Rather, it is the Lord’s will that we learn to handle them. The sense of being overwhelmed is very much a part of the journey. The power with which God clothes us in His holy temples does not imply that our journey will be an easy one.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
It's just not practical
When Mom used to take the kids shopping for their birthday, she never asked what I thought they should have. She only asked them. Lots of times they would come back with gifts that had no practical purpose. With all the things they could really use, it was hard to watch them come home with yet another knickknack. However, it gave me pause. I realized that gift giving, like most things I did, was drenched in practicality.
We went to Music Man this week. It was performed by a local community group. Two of our ward members were in it, but I didn't know that until I got there. It was quite enjoyable. Harold Hill was played by a young fellow whose family runs Pickleville Playhouse (T.J Davis). In reading his bio, I was struck by the fact that he had gone to dental school for a year, but because it wasn't "risky enough" he came back to a Northern Utah career in theatre. He was good, but, honestly, can anyone make a career in theatre in Northern Utah? Pickleville does well in the Summer, but summer is short at Bear Lake. I was impressed with the total lack of practicality of his plans, yet had to admire someone who throws caution to the wind and follows his dream.
Today two students came to me with a question. For over six months they have been trying to solve a problem that they thought up. It goes something like this. You have a paragraph with all the spaces and punctuation thrown out. You want to recreate the paragraph using only a dictionary of words. They kept talking about "It was the best of times the worst of times" being parsed as "I twas the best oft i me ..." They didn't want to use anything like sentence construction. They were excited with various forms of searching and backtracking that they had used. I gave them a few ideas for solving the problem and convinced them that any type of greedy scanning (looking for shortest word or longest word) wouldn't work in all cases, so they had to settle for finding the most likely candidates first. They seemed pleased with my suggestions and went on their way. I was plagued with the thought that they had spent six months working on a problem that no one else wanted the solution for (including me). Yet, I had to admire them for living the (albeit nerdy) dream.
We went to Music Man this week. It was performed by a local community group. Two of our ward members were in it, but I didn't know that until I got there. It was quite enjoyable. Harold Hill was played by a young fellow whose family runs Pickleville Playhouse (T.J Davis). In reading his bio, I was struck by the fact that he had gone to dental school for a year, but because it wasn't "risky enough" he came back to a Northern Utah career in theatre. He was good, but, honestly, can anyone make a career in theatre in Northern Utah? Pickleville does well in the Summer, but summer is short at Bear Lake. I was impressed with the total lack of practicality of his plans, yet had to admire someone who throws caution to the wind and follows his dream.
Today two students came to me with a question. For over six months they have been trying to solve a problem that they thought up. It goes something like this. You have a paragraph with all the spaces and punctuation thrown out. You want to recreate the paragraph using only a dictionary of words. They kept talking about "It was the best of times the worst of times" being parsed as "I twas the best oft i me ..." They didn't want to use anything like sentence construction. They were excited with various forms of searching and backtracking that they had used. I gave them a few ideas for solving the problem and convinced them that any type of greedy scanning (looking for shortest word or longest word) wouldn't work in all cases, so they had to settle for finding the most likely candidates first. They seemed pleased with my suggestions and went on their way. I was plagued with the thought that they had spent six months working on a problem that no one else wanted the solution for (including me). Yet, I had to admire them for living the (albeit nerdy) dream.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Grandchildren are the love affair of old age
I'm reading a book by Reeve Lindbergh called "No More Words" about her mother's last months. She quotes her mother, Anne Morrow Lindbergh, as saying, "Grandchildren are the love affair of old age." I love that - and echo those sentiments. What wonderful, amazing grandchildren I have.
At another point, Reeve says, "When I was grown and had my own daughter, and reveled in the ecstatic connection between me as nursing mother and my baby at my breast, my mother watched and us told me, "it is, of course, the only perfect human relationship."
A good friend loaned me the book, and had underlined her favorite passages. How fun to enjoy it doubly as I see what she loved as well.
At another point, Reeve says, "When I was grown and had my own daughter, and reveled in the ecstatic connection between me as nursing mother and my baby at my breast, my mother watched and us told me, "it is, of course, the only perfect human relationship."
A good friend loaned me the book, and had underlined her favorite passages. How fun to enjoy it doubly as I see what she loved as well.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
What's New?
This has been a week of new experiences. Last night the Utah members of our family went to see Wynton Marsalis at Kingsberry Hall. We agreed to go because everyone else was going, and Brandon was so excited about it. When I heard one of Wynton Marsalis' albums where he sounded like an elephant, I was less that excited. HOWEVER, I really quite enjoyed the performance.
On Saturday, we went to a youth (ages 9-19) Shakespeare performance of MacBeth. Our friends, the Cutlers, had two of their kids in it and they had been very involved in making costumes. I was curious, "What kinds of kids want to do Shakespeare? What kind of adults think that is a good idea?" I don't even like Shakespeare, but I found the whole idea of kids memorizing such complicated lines fascinating. I really enjoyed seeing the kids get into their parts. It was fun!
On Saturday, we went to a youth (ages 9-19) Shakespeare performance of MacBeth. Our friends, the Cutlers, had two of their kids in it and they had been very involved in making costumes. I was curious, "What kinds of kids want to do Shakespeare? What kind of adults think that is a good idea?" I don't even like Shakespeare, but I found the whole idea of kids memorizing such complicated lines fascinating. I really enjoyed seeing the kids get into their parts. It was fun!
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Shocked Disbelief
I gave my RS lesson today - taken from Todd Christofferson's CES talk. There was one quote I added that I just love.
Ann Kidd Taylor ( with Sue Monk Kidd) (Traveling with Pomegranates) Right before I left on that college study tour to Greece, my boyfriend of four years, the one I thought I would marry, called and broke up with me. Out of nowhere.
“One day you’ll find someone and he’ll be the luckiest guy in the world,” he told me. I think he intended for this to make me feel better, but come on, the luckiest guy in the world and he didn’t want to be that guy. I sat on the blue sofa in the apartment in a state of shocked disbelief— what birds must feel after flying into windowpanes. That was followed by a period of pure heartache.
I loved that thought. It seems like I've been hitting a lot of windowpanes lately. Shocked disbelief is definitely the feeling.
Ann Kidd Taylor ( with Sue Monk Kidd) (Traveling with Pomegranates) Right before I left on that college study tour to Greece, my boyfriend of four years, the one I thought I would marry, called and broke up with me. Out of nowhere.
“One day you’ll find someone and he’ll be the luckiest guy in the world,” he told me. I think he intended for this to make me feel better, but come on, the luckiest guy in the world and he didn’t want to be that guy. I sat on the blue sofa in the apartment in a state of shocked disbelief— what birds must feel after flying into windowpanes. That was followed by a period of pure heartache.
I loved that thought. It seems like I've been hitting a lot of windowpanes lately. Shocked disbelief is definitely the feeling.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Traveling with Greg
Traveling with Greg is like a step back in time – when all things were possible, life held nothing but grand alternatives, and energy level posed no barrier. Traveling with a sixty one year old man is cautious, measured, and predictable. Traveling with Greg is limitless. He studies the Lonely Planet guidebook and maps out the day. People stop him multiple times to ask directions. Of all the people on Roman streets, they pick him to query. Is it the confidence that he exudes? Is it his six foot five frame that gives him the edge over the rest of the crowd? Is it his clothing that speaks of comfort with his surroundings? Is it his travel bag slung over his shoulder or the map committed to memory that evokes trust?
As we look for a deli with authentic Italian food, Greg studies the menu not just the food in the window. He concludes, “Too much of a tourist trap. A real Italian restaurant wouldn’t serve egg drop soup.” We settle on an incredible restaurant at a fraction of the 70 Euro price we see at many sites. When interacting with the waiter, he never misses the meaning despite the thick accent.
He travels like a seasoned tourist – devouring multiple plates of food at the all you can eat breakfast at the hotel, pocketing the packaged toast and Nutella for a snack, and filling his own water bottle (rather than paying upwards of five dollars a bottle for ‘water without gas’ available on the streets).
Having read the guidebook, he is able to give insight on whatever you are viewing – from the concrete used in the Pantheon to the reasons for the caverns under the Colosseum. He is a delightful traveling companion. How lucky I am that he volunteered to come along.
As we look for a deli with authentic Italian food, Greg studies the menu not just the food in the window. He concludes, “Too much of a tourist trap. A real Italian restaurant wouldn’t serve egg drop soup.” We settle on an incredible restaurant at a fraction of the 70 Euro price we see at many sites. When interacting with the waiter, he never misses the meaning despite the thick accent.
He travels like a seasoned tourist – devouring multiple plates of food at the all you can eat breakfast at the hotel, pocketing the packaged toast and Nutella for a snack, and filling his own water bottle (rather than paying upwards of five dollars a bottle for ‘water without gas’ available on the streets).
Having read the guidebook, he is able to give insight on whatever you are viewing – from the concrete used in the Pantheon to the reasons for the caverns under the Colosseum. He is a delightful traveling companion. How lucky I am that he volunteered to come along.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
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
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
Thursday, January 27, 2011
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.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
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.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
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.
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.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
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.
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.
Monday, January 17, 2011
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.
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.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Remembering Christmas
I am gathering information for my writing class. Does anyone have REAL pictures of the items I mention or other memories??
.............................
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.
.............................
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.
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.
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.
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