Interpretation of Dreams and the Worth of Souls

          Roland has often told me about different dreams that he’s had and always concludes with, “What do you think it means?”

          Dreams are just that.  Some are bizaare.  Some are wonderful.  Some you hope to never “dream” again.  And perhaps some do have meaning.  Truthfully, I don’t place too much value in dreams.  I think that is how God communicated to his children at one time – and perhaps still does to some – though I think the methods of communication have broadened sufficiently since then. My personal opinion is that, overall, dreams really don’t mean a whole lot.

          Still, I often have crazy dreams that I will write down or share just because they are so bizarre.  And sometimes I ask myself what would have caused me to dream it.  But I never go into depth about the possible symbolism that may (or may not) exist. 

          Last night I dreamed my nephew-in-law was getting married.  The strange part about my dream is that I don’t think it was to my niece – though I don’t remember getting a good look at the bride’s face.  But physically she looked too short and not quite so thin as my niece, Ellen. Actually I don’t recall remembering any of the wedding party – except for my niece (Ellen’s sister) who is currently in junior high right now.

          I believe the marriage itself was in the temple.  I know I watched them get married.  And suddenly everybody was changed into picnic casual – except for me and my niece – though her skirt and vest were a lot more casual than the white strapless dress that I was wearing – a dress that was pretty, but one that I personally would NEVER wear in real life.  Not in front of others anyway.  Not to a picnic.  And certainly not to the temple.

          And suddenly my thoughts turned to weddings past and things that had been missed out on.  I tried to shut it out.  I was tired.  It was early and I wanted to sleep still.  But I finally got up and turned on the computer and started reading through many of the comments left on this post.

          So often we allow ourselves to feel unloved, useless or unwhole because of certain comments made in society or by the Church.  We are told that we need to fit into this perfect mold, this compact Mormon box – and if you have feminist thoughts or same sex attraction or if you don’t go to the temple a certain amount of days or if you wear open-toed shoes without hose to Church or if you don’t volunteer for at least every other canning assignment – well, you just don’t fit into the box and you need to repent and turn your life around.  And if you don’t, you are not worthy of the “Mormon Box” Club.

         The young women of the church are taught values.  One of these values is Individual Worth. This is defined as individuals, each with her own divine mission which she will strive to fulfill – “for the worth of souls is great in the sight of God”. 

         I don’t believe he is looking for carbon copies but expects us to be true to Him but also true to ourselves – even though sometimes the two may seem to conflict.  We still have to find what makes us happy and stay true to who we are meant to be regardless of path others may follow or think that we should follow.  No matter how we act or what we do or who we are or how we dress – we will NEVER PLEASE ALL PEOPLE – we all have our own differences, our own personal taste, our own individual worth.  It’s important that we remain TRUE TO OURSELVES.  We have all been given the same guidelines but are still free to make our own choices and receive our own personal revelations.

And sometimes these personal revelations may conflict with the teachings of the Church – or our own interpretations of those teachings anyway.  My brother gave up his membership to be with his partner – someone he would like to be with not just on this earth life but throughout all eternity. It is something he pondered about and struggled with for a long long time.  And he knows (as well as many others) that the decision made was right for him.  But the path that he’s on may not be the right one for all homosexuals.  He’s on a divine mission with several bumps in the road.  God has given him that unique gift of smoothing the path that others may follow.  He is a pioneer.

 Neither Corey nor his partner chose to feel same sex attraction.  Really, why would an individual subject himself (or herserlf) to choose being shunned, misunderstood, or have suicidal thoughts because he or she does not measure up to Club Society or the Mormon Box?  Why would one choose to be closeted and live life in fear because the feelings and emotions that one may experience don’t jive with what is being taught.  If one does decide to come out of the closet, he or she risks being rejected by friends, family members, society . . . because why?  Because there is that desire to be true to oneself and to be accepted and not ridiculed for not measuring up?  So they are not entititled to the same blessings anymore?  Seriously?  Is that really how God works?

Stake Conference is in just a few weeks.  It is most likely that a new president will be announced.  My husband may be considered for the position – perhaps NOT as the stake president but a counselor maybe – though it is the president who will have to pray and find revelation to call his own counselors – Roland is being considered.

And here I am not wanting to jeopardize his enthusiasm but still feeling desire for Corey and others to feel more than just a sense of belonging verbally (though many don’t even get that) – but to continue with membership if they so desire – to be able to take the sacrament again.  Especially when they are so strong in the gospel in Spirit – but their names have been removed, their membership diminished. And still there are many who remain closeted and hope the feelings will go away, that they don’t bring shame to anyone, who try to live up to the Church’s expectations but are not happy with themselves.

It wasn’t until after I returned from my temple recommend interview that I questioned myself – had I answered the questions honestly?  I had at the time that I gave them.  It came so automatic that I hadn’t questioned it at the time of the interview.  But I suppose I do sympathize with a group whose teachings are different from what is taught in the LDS Church. 

Thus far I haven’t acted upon it – such as campaigning for their cause by going door to door or holding picket signs or what have you – and probably wouldn’t because of Roland’s position.  He doesn’t have the same understanding that I have acquired.  And I did have to acquire it – for I once agreed with every single message I’d received from the leaders of the church and would ask no questions.  Now I view the homosexuals as a fellow Christian trying to save her Jewish friends during Hitler’s reign.

Will society make the homosexuals put bands upon their clothes – similar to the star of David (perhaps a rainbow – God’s sign of promise) – so that we will know?  Will we all the sudden treat our family and friends like lower class citizens – as though they are less important?  Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God.  The worth of ALL souls not just straight souls, not just green souls, not just female souls . . . . fortunately God’s worth is so much greater than that of men.  For God is not the one who labels us and classifies us into categories of tolerance.  We are all worth more to Him than men can even comprehend.

Recently (on Youtube) I watched excerpts of Oprah’s interview with Neil Patrick Harris and David Burtka and viewed it as such a sweet relationship and thought of what a remarkable love went in to planning their offspring and how incredibly blessed they all are.  And yet they have surely received criticism by many who refuse to understand, who refuse to see the miracle that has taken place between them, who view them with Pharisee eyes. I really appreciate Oprah’s “ah’hah” moment that she shares in the last 15 seconds of this video.

 A straight couple can have an unwanted baby on accident, but a gay couple has to plan and save and jump through legal hurdles to have a child, and so I would think there would be more love invested in that child (or children)  We’re people.  We are all people.  We’re not star bellied sneetches – though many of us act like we are.

seven dozen cookies and reversing roles

Roland grew up on beans and rice.    I on the other hand grew up on casseroles.  So that's what I make.  I'm fortunate that Roland loves to cook and bake and enjoys a lot more than rice and beans.  He is actually a very good cook.  Not so great at cleaning up.  But when I don't have to cook the food myself, I really don't mind.

For several years I spent a lot of time on the computer.  Roland was basically self employed and I was his secretary creating a system that would work for us - advertising through post cards, letters and keeping track of addresses sent.  And Roland would cook and bake while I was on the computer.  I actually enjoyed that system.

But with the broken economy and an unpromising future, Roland has taken on a job with a company that issues paychecks twice a month and gives us an actual amount to work with.  He works from 8-5 or 7-4 depending.  And so I am now responsible for seeing that dinner is ready when he returns.  Usually I am scrimping for creative ways to utalize whatever happens to be in the fridge.  My last two meals have consisted of turkey and vegetables.

On Monday I made a mock shepherds pie.  Roland said he had never had it before, and actually claimed that he liked it. (I rarely ever get that.  I am not a chef.  I don't choose to be.  I can follow a recipe, but it's got to be exact.  If the item I'm baking needs to be covered, it must say so in the recipe - otherwise it won't get covered)

After two days of shepherd pie and frozen leftovers, I looked for another recipe.  Turkey and zucchini lasagna.  I found a few recipes through Google.  But still changed a bit.  I would rather have Alfredo than Mariana - though I know the Mariana is better for us health wise.  So I waited another day for Roland's input.  He wanted the Mariana, but at the last minute told me to use up the Alfredo.  And so I did.

I put some oil in the bottom of the crockpot and layered it with turkey and noodles, a beet greens and zucchini mixture, rocatta cheese, noodles and back to the meat and alfredo sauce and vegtables and cheese.  Only took three hours for it to cook - and it was good.  Rich.  But good.  But still - too much for just me and Roland (Jenna refuses to allow it anywhere near her lips)  so now we have three containers of leftovers for those days I don't feel like cooking (which is actually often) 2 with turkey lasagna and 1 with Shepherd's pie.

On Monday I made 7 dozen cookies - four zucchini and three no bake.  They were all gone by Wednesday.  Can you believe that?  Granted we did share 2-3 dozen - maybe a little bit more.  But I think my Jenna may be getting pudgy.  Okay.  No more cookies for a while.  It just sounded better than bread pudding - which Roland had wanted to make.  As if he has time.

Now it is he on the computer pulling up sites to reference material.  And he is on hours at a time.

I'd like to go back to how it was before - when he was in the kitchen and I was on the computer.

The Novelty has Worn off, That Ship has Sailed

          Recently I was watching a show (well, attempting to watch) called “Bunheads” The particular episode focuses around Michelle substitute teaching for Fanny, who is out of town, and, according to Facebook, will be for some time.

All of the supporting characters are aware of Fanny’s extended plans except for Michelle – who hasn’t checked her Facebook page and is bothered that the whole world seems to revolve around Facebook communication.

There is nothing private about Facebook.  Things are taken out of context, misunderstood, mistranslated, and up for political debate. 

One of my Facebook friends joined after three years of rebellion.  Facebook was not for her.  She’s been able to communicate just fine without it – but not always so informed.

Like Michelle, she’d learn from other people, “Oh, I hear your grandson won the trophy and that there will be a celebration.”  “Who else is going to Mr. Walkie’s picnic on Friday?” “Did you hear so and so got the lead in the school play?” 

Okay, I don’t know the exact quotes that she read.  The first example is probably totally inaccurate as she supports her grandchildren to the fullest and is always there – provided that the information has been related to her.

I guess after three years of listening to her family converse about current events that hadn’t yet reached her ears, she joined Facebook – though she seemed leery or did it out of rebellion or what have you.

Actually, it appears that she has been on it almost daily since she joined.  And usually her posts are profound and have great meaning.  She shares links and views and probably does reach more people now than before. 

I visit Facebook weekly at best.  I go in to view and post pictures and send wishes to those having birthdays (the calendar reminder is actually one of my favorite features)   Sometimes I read comments that have been made.  Overall I see it as a great big bill board with just as many advertisements as comments. 

The appearance of facebook has changed three to five times since I’ve joined – the latest being time line – and you are going to join forces weather you want to or not.  I actually didn’t have a problem with time line.  Corey has not been happy about the mandatory sweitch however.

I noticed that many times people leave comments on stupid posts, but I get very little on the ones that I really care about.  Or used to care about.  I seldom ever put posts on Facebook anymore.  I’d rather Blog what’s on my mind.  

Online Schooling is Definitely NOT for me

          I have a friend whose husband is a recruiting officer for one of those online schools. He sits at a desk while the automatic dialer spins out call after call of potential students.  If/When one picks up, he introduces himself and states the purpose of his call. 

          I am certain that over 50% of their “potential students” are not potential at all.  They were victims of online job hunting believing that they were filling out an application for the a job that would hopefully tie them over and entered info on those pop-ups designed to retrieve information to so sucker you into going to their schools.

          I know as I have been a victim of this “potential” marketing myself.  I am livid at the method of “solicitation” – if I wanted to go to school, I would search out for the school – I don’t need someone contacting me to try to “sell” me a product that is going to put me further in debt than I already am. Thank you very much!

          Their biggest selling point (that I see) is that it works to the students convenience because he or she can choose his/her own hours and doesn’t have to be on a set schedule as with the campus schools.  They don’t clue you in as how the hours can literally swallow so much of your time.  But perhaps many really don’t know how time consuming it is. 

The recruiters are expected to have so many starts in any given month.  If they don’t make the quota, they are invited to leave.  That’s not really fair – given the circumstances that most of the “students” who are contacted are not interested in being called let alone making a commitment – which a large percentage don’t.

          The online schools don’t have near as much to offer in career choices as campus schools.  There haven’t been any that have appealed to me personally.  I prefer a hands-on – one on one if possible.  I like having a live instructor that can communicate to me without the benefit of a computer. Oh, don’t get me wrong – I value my computer – but not to the point of replacing an education the “old fashion” way.

          After a year or so with the company (I don’t actually know how long) my friend’s husband was entitled to take the online courses for free (provided he work with the online school for the next three years or come up with the finances on his own) for either himself or a family member.

          As he currently has only one child who would qualify – and that child wants to go into medicine (which is not an online program) and my friend isn’t all that thrilled about the programs offered either, her husband has decided to further educate himself – which is all well and good – but it is sooo time consuming.  His greatest sacrifice (in my opinion) has been giving up several hours of sleep.

          I’ve been to her house a few times when her husband has been trying to fulfill assignments.  It appears to be so frustrating. My friend has had to physically remove her children from the environment so that he is able to stay more focused.  But she is never gone long enough.  What is suppose to be “two hours any given four days in the week” turns into eight. 

She says that often he doesn’t get to bed until after 2:00 and then he needs to be up by 6:00.  Perhaps his body has adjusted to needing only four hours per night (uh, morning) but my friend says that he comes home physically and mentally exhausted.  And she is worried about him.

Right now he is an A student. It will be another three years before he “graduates” – and then what?  Will having his degree or certificate or whatever it is help him to land a better job?  Will all those hours he spent at the computer, giving up sleep (not to mention a few family moments) be worth it?

I can receive an education online without getting credit for it.  There is tons of information to learn and so much right at our fingertips (literally) but I have to go at my own pace – which is not a part of the schooling education

For some people, online schooling really is an ideal thing – particularly if they are only working part time and have inherited a good chunk of money – and single – without children – without interruptions . . . perhaps it for some it has its perks.  But it’s not for me personally.  I can actually understand why the drop-out ratio is so high.

Things sure have changed

The town I grew up in was not a metropolis.  Or at least it hadn’t started out that way.  But over the time, the city has built itself around that area making it much larger than a town.

When I was little, everything had to be driven to – the doctors, the swimming pool, the hospitals, my grandma’s house . . .  not much in the way of walking distance.  My parents even had to drive quite a distance just to get to the freeway.

Today access to the freeway is just around the corner from where I grew up.  I used to have picnics with my brother and his friends in a vacant field -which is no longer - as the land was dug up and is now a part of the intrastate freeway.

There are at least 20-30 fast food chains and restaurants within walking distance.  The small trailer where we had opened our first savings account broke ground on now houses an actual building that changed hands (bank names) at least three times before transforming into a Subway sandwich shop.  I don’t even know if it’s still there or not.  
Many stores have come and gone since I lived there. I remember one building was a Chinese restraunt, a fish and chips, a trophy and plaque store, and a doctor’s office. Currently it is a Hertz – really?  There is seriously a lot to put cars in?

I remember a few buildings changing hands on what seemed like a weekly basis. 

I loved going to Gibsons and to Allied.  Both names and places of the past.

Jenna gets angry when I accidently refer to her Ipod as a walkman.

Says I’m lucky I had my own phonograph when I was younger.  She was thinking the hand cranked kind.  I said (in a highly offended voice) I’m not that old.  She laughed.

My brothers (that would include my non-biological family across the street) and I used to take swim lessons at the Deseret Gym.  Now the LDS Conference Center built over where Deseret gym used to be. 

When we’d visit my Uncle out in Kearns, it seemed quite a drive from our house – but when I lived there with Roland everything was really quite close.  The Sinclair gas station that received its new make-over after we moved has now been ripped out so that the already wide road can be widened even more.

Of course I don’t remember anything about my birth except for what my mom tells me.  Dad wasn’t allowed in the delivery room.  I had three family members with me when I gave birth to Jenna.  My then 11 year old neice was able to watch her sister get born.  But than maybe it depends on what area you're in.  My son, Tony, said he wasn't allowed in the delivery room when his daughter was born - and that was just five months ago.

Jenna was not allowed to visit her cousin, Ana after she was born. But two years later she was able to visit her newborn cousin, Garret, once he got out of ICU and was brought into his mother’s room.  She wasn’t even allowed to visit Kayla (Ana and Garret’s mother) two years ago. 

Jenna’s car seat had been purchased at a garage sale eight years ago.  It passed inspection.  Not by today’s standards.  No way.  I guess I can understand that – to a degree anyway.  There’s another thing that improves each year – or attempted to anyway.  Mom held me in her lap when I was an infant.  As a toddler I was placed in a seat which slid over the back of the chair – front seat. 

My mom was told to keep my brother, Patrick, and I on our backs.  By the time Corey and Kayla came along, the policy had changed to laying newborns on their bellies.  Mom kept them on their backs anyway – even Corey who was two months premature.  Afterall the back procedure had worked fine for me and Patrick.  Somewhere along the line it got changed back.  Too many babies ended up smothering themselves.

Jenna preferred being on her stomach.  For the most part I would let her fall asleep on me and then I would lay her on her back.  I remember when she learned to roll from her stomach to her back.  She’d cry and cry when she couldn’t figure how to return to being on her stomach again.

What changes do you remember?

McDonald’s: an Evolution of Perception

          When we are children and don’t know any better, we believe that McDonald’s is the greatest thing.  Oh, sure, perhaps we’re too busy at the play center or enjoying the toy that falls apart long before we have finished whatever lame meal was ordered.  What did we know about nutrition?  It wasn’t even in our vocabulary.

          Teenagers seemed divided.  It’s fast, it’s cheap, close enough to the high school or jr. high.  Given the right time of the day . . . not that I think of it as a hangout – not in your larger cities anyway.  Not with a playland and 30 screaming kids.

          “It’s not where you take a girl on a date,” says Randy.  Although I could picture Tony doing that very thing – and not with a limo and candles (which Randy said was too cheesy – why spend the money on a limo?  Why not just better quality food?  Have to agree with that part.

          Biff likes the yogurt parfaits.  That’s about it.  Even at thirteen (when he was seriously a better eater than he is now) he saw McDonald’s food as something that would clog the arteries.  And it would take years and years to undo the damage.  I think Biff views McDonald’s as the gateway to suicide.

          As adults we would prefer NOT to go to McDonald’s.  It’s fine to take the kids when they’re younger, but as they get older?  Come on.  Surely we can come up with better food – even if McDonald’s does seem the only thing in the budget.

          Children don’t seem to   appreciate home cooked meals.  Going out just seems so much more prestige – even if it is McDonald’s.

          I recall the first time the boys had Alfredo sauce.  Neither Biff or Tony (who literally eats anything but chicken) seemed unimpressed, but Randy (who always expressed his gratitude and appreciative thoughts and anything to be the center of attention) said (and he genuinely did mean it as a compliment) "This tastes like restaurant food”

          Randy was grateful to eat something other than the budget meals that they had before I met Roland.  And he really did like it even if Biff and Tony weren’t all that impressed.

          I think it is the prices at McDonald’s that draw in the senior citizens.  I remember dad thinking McDonald’s was pretty good.  And mom, who, for so many year has said, “I don’t want to eat at McDonald’s.” didn’t seem to mind it the other day when Jenna announced that’s where she wanted to go.  I certainly wasn’t up for McDonald’s food, but that’s where we ended up and “grandma” didn’t seem to mind. 

          I guess by definition of the AARP I turned into a senior citizen at the end of May this year.  But my love for McDonald’s (should I ever have one) is so far into the future that I think my taste buds will have to be further gone than I am.

          On the up side: McDonald’s does provide housing for families for children who are in hospitals closer to the hospital than their own houses.  The paper products used by McDonald’s are supposedly all recyclable.  Big Macs, for instance, used to come in a Styrofoam carton.  Styrofoam is not recyclable. Therefore it was changed to cardboard.  Though I think more ends up in the “garbage” than in the “recycling” – how can a product all covered in fatty food possibly be recycled?

          There are a lot of pluses to McDonalds – possibly more than down sides.  They may have a bad rap with many.  But there will always be that genuine love among the children and senior citizens.

We’ve Been Told That MuliTasking is a Myth

        Corey showed me this cartoon about five hours after Roland and I had driven to Roland’s work.  He was talking about this very subject – commenting that there’s no such thing as multitasking.  I couldn’t believe he was saying that. 

He is amazing at multitasking behind the wheel. And we have known several who fit in the “Molly Mormon” role – each with 8-14 kids.  And it seems the more children they have, the greater they are at multitasking.  Straighting the dress on one while fixing the hair on the other while cooking dinner and doing laundry, and feeding the youngest two and reading a book in order to prepare for the Relief Society lesson which actually isn’t until next month – but multitasker Molly Mormons don’t procrastinate.  They put all scouts to shame as they will never be prepared as much as Molly Mormon. (On a side note: many Molly Mormons actually do teach or at least assist with scouting)

I was convinced that there was no myth – that multitasking really does take place.  And just less than twelve hours later I was sitting in front of the boob tube watching Multiplicity. That’s when I absorbed what I’d been hearing all day.  There is truth in the saying that there’s no such thing as multi-tasking.  No such thing.  Apparently it is believable as being able to clone ourselves to fulfill all those things that we need to do.  To multitask.

I could never be a multitasker.  But I thought there were a handful of people that were.  I believed in the myth.  I have seen Molly Mormon in action.  Or was it the same trickery that is used by a magician? 

Weeding out the Red-Rooted Bastard

          I once heard the following about an elderly woman with a very nice garden.  Someone had asked how she maintained without weeds.  She had set a goal to pull 15 a day.  I’m guessing she didn’t have to deal with pigweed.

          I actually have two nicknames for the weed that springs back to life the minute it is pulled.  The more offensive name mentioned in the title of this post and “Rapunzel” – though I think it grows much faster than Rapunzel’s hair.  But unlike Rapunzel’s hair, there is absolutely nothing special about it.  It’s a weed.  A multiplying undying weed.

          I will pull them up by their roots.  I will have a tremendous pile of these red-rooted pigweeds – more outside of the garden than inside.  It seems for every one I’ve pulled at least four to seven have grown back in its place.  How am I supposed to keep up with that?  And if we don’t pull them now while they are sprouts, they will be much harder to pull.

          When we moved into this house, there was a large tree growing near the house.  The neighbors’ driveway was starting to crack as the roots were pushing into the foundation.  She called it a trash tree and said it needed to be removed. The stump still remains in our yard and thus we haven’t seen the roots attached.  I’m certain that they are red (or were – it’s possible that they have died off by now)

          When I first saw the pigweed sprout up, I was certain that they were/are daughters of the trash tree – that could have been something else.  Whatever it was it wasn’t intentionally planted.  It just grew there and made a mess.

          I remember hearing the Biblical stories of Joshua defeating different cities with the instruction and help of our God.  They had to kill babies.  Little babies.  Innocent babies.  That bothered me for the longest time – because all babies are born innocent.  Even Hitler (no matter how hard to believe) was born innocent.  And yet that would have been the best time to get him – drop him, strangle him, drown him . . .

          There are so many films and themes and movies devoted to time travel.  What if?  What if we could save Kennedy?  What if we could destroy Hitler before he even knew what power was?

          One show depicts the midwife taking the baby and throwing it in the river.  Mrs. Hitler is devastated and insists that the child is replaced.  A kidnapped baby is brought to her that she may raise him as her own.  She calls him Adolf.

          And no matter how often the attempt to save him is made, Pres. Kennedy always ends up getting killed.  It has already happened.  Though the idea of traveling back in time to save him is appealing, it does not exist.  He died at the hands of whom?  Lee Harvey Oswald?  A conspiracy perhaps?

          When I think of the weeds and the time traveling non-changes, it makes it easier to understand and accept scriptures like Joshua 6:21.   

Like a Fly to Cowpie

That’s how she described her passion for family history: “like a fly to cowpie”.  She had been raised on a dairy farm – it was a natural analogy – though I could think of better ones: “a duck to water” “a monkey on a cupcake” or Roland’s favorite: “like Godzilla on Tokyo”

        I don’t even have a passion for genealogy or family research (from an earlierpost) but wouldn’t have compared it to manure.  Family History is a good thing and works for a lot of people.  And there are many aspects of family history that I do enjoy – but research is a far cry from being one of them.

          It’s not just family history that gets her fired up.  I believe that it is everything that comes her way.  She greets it with her heart which shines in her smile.  I think she may have an even bigger love for life than my sister-in-law, Sunny, whom I truly admire. 

Sunny teaches pre-school.  Parents put their children on waiting lists and feel very honored when they get in.  Sunny is awesome at introducing children to their first steps to life.  May her students always remember her enthusiasm. I wish I had even just one ounce of that passion.

          In addition to the family history class, Hannah also has a calling as the enrichment leader.  She is so prepared and so excited and gets to know the sisters and invites them in and makes them feel welcome.  I think there have been some major awesome turn outs since she’s been put in. 

          Hannah and Sunny.  Share the joy.  You can’t help but smile along with them.  

Experiencing the Great Outdoors

          As soon as I hit “publish” on my last post – the very second (I kid you not) I could hear Highness scratching at the door – which made a grand total of 29 minutes and 41 seconds that he had been outside.  Which is 28 minutes and 58 seconds longer than usual.

          We haven’t had him for a full year yet.  I think he stayed out longer when the weather was cooler – but not cold.  After the snow melted and the ground softened a bit, Highness started digging.  He escaped too many times.  But he hasn’t managed to sneak past the board that we put up in May.  Too bad we didn’t know about it sooner.

          The couple next door has a grandson that visits almost weekly.  He’s a handful.

          Truman’s Nana invited my daughter over to play shortly after we moved in.  But Truman would wear on Jenna’s nerves.  He was much too immature for her. Still is – but has developed a more sophisticated vocabulary.

          There is still a two age difference between them, but over the years Jenna has come to tolerate Truman and even accept him as friend – maybe her only friend.  Just haven’t seen a lot of kids this summer.

          Jenna has never been on an actual camping trip.  The few “camping” experiences she’s had have consisted of setting up the tent in the back yard and roasting marshmallow over the grill.  Right now it seems to be enough.  In 2010 she went “camping” with her brother (the one who is currently in the army) This year it was with Roland after Father’s Day (which you can read more about here)

My last post indicated that she was camping next door.  A tent had been set up in the backyard.  She spent the night with Truman, and his Nana – who had invited Jenna to stay with them.  Don’t know that Roland was as thrilled with the idea.  But there had been a spark in Jenna’s eyes all day.  I couldn’t say “NO’’ and kill the excitement that she had been feeling all day Friday.  She would be crying otherwise.

Not only did she have a great sleepover.  She spent time in the pool and ran through the sprinklers and ended up going to the movies with the family Saturday afternoon.  They went and saw “Brave” which she initially didn’t want to see.  She expressed her lack of interest each time a preview would appear.  I said that I would like to see it – she must have had a change of heart.  She said that “Brave” was awesome.  I won’t be seeing it until it comes to the dollar theatre.  We’ll go on a Monday when the shows are 75 cents.

I am so grateful that Jenna has found friendship after almost three years.  Still has friends and is very popular where we came from – but it’s been a lot more difficult over hear.  Though she does have two sets of brothers fighting over her already.  Oh, my heck! She’s only eight!

Thank you Ben and Stacey for taking Jenna under your wing and allowing her to go on your family activities.

fireworks and sleeping beneath the stars

She came to me the other night.

"What is that noise?"

"It's the fireworks (all month long)"

"I can't sleep."

That was in her bed
in her room
fan going
didn't drown out the noise.

Tonight she is in a tent in
the backyard next door

Flashlights going
I can hear her friend talking
and his Nana asking
why don't they all go to sleep.

I let Highness outside before I went to bed.
He usually returns in less than an entire minute.
But he's out there lying down.
It's been almost thirty.

He must be taking comfort in the voices of
Jenna and Trume.

Hopefully I will have more details tomorrow
about this exciting campout.

Personalities of the Hundred Acre Wood

          I don’t know if I first noticed the resemblance between Jenna and Tigger (from Disney’s Winnie-the-Pooh) or Frances and Eyore – I’m thinking the latter.

 Frances would often wear shirts with logos that were either Tinkerbelle or Eyore.  I once thought “Frances could be Eyore” kind of sluggish, not very pleasant, somewhat of a pessimist – which is sad – because she hadn’t always been like that. 

          The transformation probably took place within the first couple of years after she received her first period.  And perhaps it was during those times I would happen to see her that she was going through PMS or whatever.  She’d become lazy, had always been careless.  She could easily misplace her tail.  Frances was Eyore.

          Jenna has been enthusiastically pouncing for almost six or seven years.  As with Tigger, she doesn’t do it maliciously – she just gets excited.  Since I’d been picking her up from pre-school or the sitters or wherever, she has run to and embraced me at full speed and amazingly hasn’t yet knocked me over.

          She is not made of rubber and springs – and I’m definitely not.  Though I’ve tried to tame her, she still continues to pounce.  Jenna IS Tigger.

          That got me to wondering if the restof us   had personality traits that would resemble those that lived in the 100 acre wood.  Up until then I guess I hadn’t thought of each character as a different personality trait.  But now I do.

          I assigned myself to be Rabbit as Rabbit often feels uptight about stupid things that he can’t control.  Let it go.  Move on.  No, not Rabbit.  He seems to focus on the things that upset him.  Maybe not.

          Rabbit’s actually a harder worker than I am.  LOVES gardening.  I don’t loathe it so much as I just don’t care for the overall temperature that seems to come with gardening (put me indoors with an air conditioner) but does seem to often snap at others.  I REALLY NEED to shed this personality trait.  It’s not a desirable one.  But I do tend to get uptight about circumstances and wish I would stop.

          Roland is definitely Kanga.  He seems to possess maternal instincts and sometimes will coddle our children – particularly when they don’t want to be coddled.  He’s a worrier, provider, a nurturer and supervisor among other things. 

          I decided that Biff would be Winnie-the-Pooh.  Pooh’s one focus is with “hunny”.  Biff’s is the gym.  Stuffed with fluff?  Not exactly.  Biff works out.  He would never get stuck in Rabbit’s hole for example.  But he does have the same loveable qualities found in pooh bear. And there are times that I have wondered if his head might not be full of cotton.

          Tony and Pamprin are both playful.  Both would like to hold hands with someone who will make the decision.  Of course I don’t know Pamprin near as well as I know Tony.  He likes to laugh.  He likes to play.  But he has definite signs of responsibility.  Both Tony and Pamprin have changed diapers.  I wouldn’t think too many of the hundred acre wood characters would even know how to do that.

          Randy is wise.  I considered the owl – though the owl seems kind of squirrely to me at times.  I made Randy Christopher Robin – as Christopher Robin is more of the observer outside of the 100 acre woods and can come and go at his desire.  Randy has been coming and going since he was nine (possibly sooner).  Sometimes he’s a part of us, but often he chooses to let us work it out amongst ourselves.

          Wasn’t that a wonderful post?