Ibuprofen is a Wonder

        I remember experiencing a headache in November.  My sister gave me some Ibuprofen and my headache was gone.

        After Christmas and into January I had experienced sensitive teeth.  My daughter-in-law gave me some Ibuprofen and the pain seemed to vanish.

        This morning I woke up with a sore arm.  I took some Ibuprofen and it no longer hurts me.

 

        I marvel that after the drug has entered my body it is able to travel to exactly where I need it.  I think that is genius!

Perhaps the Opposite is in Store

 

It is so cold outside

So unlike our first year in Oregon

We didn’t need light jackets then

Let alone heavy coats

There has been warning of snow

I personally think it’s too cold

Snow doesn’t fall when it’s freezing

Or at least that’s how it used to be

The worst part about all the cold

That is currently causing misery for many

Is in thinking that the summer months

Will be so much worse blaring heat upon us

Quite the opposite of now.

That Was Weird . . . Wish there had been a way to scan the dream

 

               A couple of nights ago I had a dream about a salt grinder that doesn’t exist.  Last night I had a dream that I had forgotten details as I write.  In part I was searching for a book and had come across a whole bunch that had been put away for whatever reason.  Some I remembered but most I did not.  So I chose to set aside to look at with more effort (reading).

               The first one was a children’s book.  I don’t remember what it was called but my mom had made notes on various pages – in crayon.  It was interesting to see that.  Of course I don’t can’t remember anything about it now.  I do remember that the book was about a salt grinder which replaced a pestle and mortar.  (As though that would provide great material for a children’s book) and my mom had written her feelings toward the book.  I would have liked to photocopy it somehow.

               I woke up in a puzzled state.  Why would I dream about a salt grinder (if there is any such thing) one night and a children’s book about it the next?  My mom was somehow connected to both.  I have miss her a lot. If it were possible for me to talk to her long distance, I would definitely reach out to her. I doubt the afterlife works that way.

Continuing On My Own

           Shortly after we had moved to Oregon I remember a Book of Mormon class having been offered on a Tuesday night of each week.  The missionaries would teach the class which seemed well attended. I became familiar with the class when I would go to the Relief Society activity meeting which was held once a month – also on a Tuesday. There were some sisters who chose to attend the Book of Mormon class rather than support the sisterhood of the Relief Society.  I remember being annoyed that they were on the same night usually at the same time.  

          It must have been in 2019 when the Book of Mormon class was changed to the Come Follow Me class.  In addition to Sunday school there were members of the ward who would meet once a week with the missionaries – but the time was changed to 4:00 on Wednesdays.  During nice weather we would meet outside.  It was a nice class in the beginning.  I don’t think we met at all during the Following Year as there was a pandemic.  I’m not sure when it started back up but I remember attending and missionaries teaching and then it stopped – the turn out hadn’t been as good a before the pandemic and the class was dropped before the Old Testament had finished. 

           This year the manual has changed up from what was offered in 2020 – though most of the pictures are the same.  Recently I ripped out a bunch of pictures from the 2020 manual and change them out each week as a reminder for what week we are on.  And really, they are too beautiful not to display.

 

          I had enjoyed attending the Come Follow Me classes – the fellowshipping and the assistance with understanding.  We are studying The Book of Mormon this year. I probably would still attend the class if it were offered.  Not always in Sunday School as primary is always short-handed.  So grateful for the videos and for those who share their knowledge and understanding.  Thanks to all who have assisted with the Come Follow Me program.

The Weather’s not the Same

           I remember so many cold winters when I was living in Utah.  Occasionally we would have surprises when no coat was required but for the most part we had to bundle up and trudge through snow.

          Our first winter in Oregon was so different.  It had snowed once but didn’t last. 

snow on the 10th of December 2015

It did not last

Jai's snowman kept shrinking

By February there were signs of spring.  I don’t remember having experienced blossoms and blooming growth so early in the year before.

Today I was reminded of this post I had created 8 years ago

“When I was living in Utah, it never occurred to me that one day I would believe that February would offer perfect weather for walking, riding bikes, hearing motorcycles and lawn mowers. I am really enjoying the outdoor temperature right now.”

We’ve had one really nice day in February this year.  We had seen blossoms and growth.  But for the most part we’ve had cold rain and fog.  It has felt like Utah winter - except without snow. Weather is so weird.

Organization is Exhausting

               I have boxes of tax files and insurance policies, receipts, warranties and so forth.  I have memorabilia, started scrapbooks, sooooo many photos.  Lesson outlines and lesson ideas.  And I’ve gotten rid of a lot.  So why does it feel like all the paperwork keep growing?

          I don’t have to save any of it right?  Aside from all the tax detail, insurance policies and so forth, most of this could just be obtained from online, right? So why the heck am I saving it?  As Jaime has never been as sentimental as I am, I am certain that she would not care if I threw out all that I’ve been saving instead of having her go through it and throw it away. 

          And the pictures.  Oh my gosh.  There are so many pictures.  I have scanned all of the pictures – I think.  So why am I hanging onto all of them?  Because I can’t bring myself to throw them away.  Though I have gotten better.  Each time I go through I find I am able to part with more than I did prior.

          I have no sentiment for the tax garbage nor do I want to save it all.  Sure enough as soon as I throw it out the IRS will come audit us for some year that is no longer in my possession.  I haven’t even made a dent.  I am soooo tired.  Still have items to scan.

A Learning Experience

           As a former sister missionary I remember introducing non members to strong members to be fellowshipped. Finding strong priesthood members who would remain in the ward long after the missionaries had gone.  Wouldn’t it be more meaningful to be baptized by a fellow member and still have that connection down the road.  I remember one of my brothers making it a goal NOT to physically baptize those he taught but to pass the reign onto another.  Not that it’s a choice for just anybody to baptize.  One must have authority and has to be interviewed the same at the individual to be baptized.

          Missionary baptisms are handled by the missionaries while primary baptisms arrangements are made by primary leaders and/or parents depending on the size of the ward or stake and the amount of children being baptized.  I remember making the arrangements for Jaime’s baptism before I was aware that there were others in the stake who would also be baptized.  Still she was the only one from our ward and although the program started in the chapel with the five children from the stake, but we broke off into wards each time a child was baptized (here)   

          The missionaries had made arrangements for a program set up for two youth.  The program was not complete and they had mentioned that before Richard took the reins of printing up the program to his own perfection and satisfaction.  He asked why baptism is spelled with an "s" while baptize is spelled with a "z". He printed up several programs. But changes were made to include more youth and ward involvement. The Elders had picked up the programs and used a white out where some names had been but had not been filled out with the names of those who had been newly assigned. 

         A counselor in the YW class presidency gave the first talk on baptism instead of the sister missionaries whose names were initially on the program.  Though both elders had their names under the baptisms only one performed a baptism while one of the elders baptized one youth, the other was baptized by the bishop.

           Between the baptism and the talk on the Holy Ghost there was a soft reference that came with the prelude music of primary songs.  There was still visiting among members who did so in whispers unlike this baptism . Usually the elders show a video while those who have been in the water change into dry clothes.

           I made an error when it was announced those who would be welcoming into the church.  First the young women’s president was called and she would be followed by the bishop. I thought they had forgotten to include the primary representative.  I decided to inquire thought it wasn’t my place. Turns out the other youth was no longer primary age but a young man who the bishop welcomed.  I woke up this morning disturbed at my having meddled.  My slow mind then realized that there had been two leaders from the primary and not just the one I pointed out.  Of course Bishop was fully aware of the other. I chastised myself and tried consoling myself with excuses - none which have worked. It was not just a learning experience for the elders but for me as well.

Another Weird Dream

 

         Neither Richard nor I have been sleeping well lately.  He caught a virus due to stress and probably room temperature.  I always wake up hot and he has a pile of blankets.  He coughs.  Bonnie snores.  One or the other of us will leave the room. 

He turns on the TV.  It is ALWAYS loud.  I can’t return to sleep when there is noise.  But somehow between two and four I slept hard.  Really hard.  I know it was hard because I had a nightmarish dream. 

“I had gotten out of bed for something (probably to go to the bathroom) and when I returned my end table and all contents had disappeared.  I remember looking for them in some kind of office building.  That was weird.

“Later on, while in bed I heard a noise and gone to the window to investigate a noise. I saw our car back up out of the driveway.  Surprisingly there had been enough light to identify that it was our car. They must have been the ones who took the end table.  I think that's where I had last seen my keys

“And right behind them was a red convertible with four teenagers – first with expressions of “Oh, no.  We’ve been caught” but then a smugness of “what are you going to do about it”

“We had called the police.  They were on their way but had not yet arrived” when the rain woke me up from my deep trance.  I don’t think I ever returned.  If I did I cannot remember what else happened.  I am surprised at remembering what I did.

Richard continues to come and go not sleeping unless it is in front of the television in a sit-up position.

Cold Fingers and Memories

 

               I’m certain that my insurance policy must be in the shed as I can’t find it in the house.  Too many things have been pushed aside.  I haven’t had the room to go through them until now but don’t wish to tote everything back into the house only to take it out again.  I can be more effective when it warms up – but not to scorching. 

          I can’t sort through papers while I’m wearing gloves and so my fingers are cold after having gone through two boxes – neither had any hints of what I thought should be present.  My fingers are so cold I couldn’t do anymore.  But I was having fun looking as I came across memories of handwriting, saving various assignments from Jaime’s school, an old photograph of a cousin and his wife.  The photograph isn’t labeled.  If I should die right away, no one in Oregon is going to know who it is.  Why am I saving it anyway?

          My fingers are numb as I attempt to type these words.  Smiling about things my mom had saved.  I should work on tossing it all.  For if we ever move again I won’t be toting it across the country.  My fingers aren’t frozen, but they haven’t warmed up still.