Thank You Rob Buyea

I mention my discovery of Mr. Terupt in this post.  Rob Buyea makes reference to several books throughout the two books that I’ve read and I have made my journey into some of those books. So here are my reviews on “Belle Teal” by Ann M. Martin and “Belle Prater’s son” by Ruth White

“Belle Teal” is told in first person by a girl who’s been named after her grandma – Belle Teal.  The story takes place roughly 1961 – 1962 I’m guessing in Virginia. Two things stand out for me.  One is that Belle’s grandmother has Alzheimer’s or another form dementia.  It isn’t explained.  Even back then – there wasn’t the same understanding that we have now – and are still trying to explain.

The other is/was the relationship between her classmates.  One is a black student who has just transferred into an all white school.  Another is a high and mighty princess, also a first timer for that particular school. The other is the son of an abusive drunkard parent. They had formed a friendship in a previous grade. 

I absolutely love the way Belle Teal handles herself and tries hard to make friends and tries hard to add harmony to classmates and to situations that occur.  I also like her enthusiasm with her writing and her creativity.  She reminds me a little bit of my own Jenna.

“Belle Prater’s Son” also takes place in Virginia – but about ten years earlier.  It is told in first person – which I enjoy.  I always have an easier time getting into books that are told in first person.

Gypsy is Belle Prater’s niece, who tells the story mostly about her relationship with her cousin Woodrow, who moves in next door shortly after his mom disappears. There is a bit of mystery involved, tall tales, and finding self esteem.  The message I took from this story was that looks are not important and we needn’t treat one another in a way that focus on outward appearance.  I love how the characters are willing to accept themselves and grow.  I also like how Woodrow appreciates the simple things and what Gypsy has taken advantage of for some time become new again.

I Know I'm Alive, For There is Much Pain

When we first moved into the ward, our ward had been assigned to clean the building the last four months during the year.  It was finally changed to every third month – which is what I thought should be done all along.  But who am I?

Before we left the house, I took something for my allergies, as I knew we’d be going to the garden, which would probably make my sneezing act out even more. Usually our family is there at least three or four Saturdays to assist.  When we arrived yesterday, I figured it was the Elder’s Quorum that was in charge, as there were doughnuts, juice and chocolate milk to reward the cleaners afterwards. 

Jenna handed me a vacuum cleaner and told me that “we” were going to vacuum. “I” started out with the Relief Society room and then worked my way to the nursery and then the primary room.  I didn’t have to get any of the rooms on the other side of the chapel as I was told somebody else took care of that.

The vacuum cleaner isn’t that heavy.  But I am out of shape. I felt like I was going to die.

After doughnuts, we made our way to the community garden.  The sun was beating down on us – though few seemed to notice.  I don’t understand how they could not notice.

We raked up many of the weeds that had developed over the last two weeks. They were short enough that I could actually tell them apart from the plants.  But after bending down in the hot sun, I felt like I was going to die.

Came home to change so that we could attend a baptism (Roland was conducting) it’s all I could do to stay awake.  When the baptism was over we went home.  I took a three-hour nap.

We still had our own garden.  Waited for the sun and Roland decided to start on another project.  We could have tackled that after I got up.  Still not done with “his” projects.  And I still feel like I’m going to die.

Softball season has started

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The school that Jaime attends is surrounded by three ball fields – one to the south, one to the west and one to the north west.  In the center is a parking lot where many parents will drop off and pick up their children.  For the most part the lot remains empty during the school season.  But on the last week or two the parking lot is filled with more cars than parking spaces.

I told Jenna to come and look for me in the Church parking lot – which I learned has become the overflow parking for the softball fans.  I called out her name last night, for I could see her searching the Vantana parking lot.  I’m certain she’ll remember to look for the car in the Church parking lot for the remainder of school.

Yesterday morning I had Highness as the sun made its way over the horizon and could take him for a walk without getting caught in the rain.  We left the house at 7:30 but school doesn’t start until 8:40.

As I passed Vantana Jenna called me – believing I wasn’t paying attention.  I also passed the church parking lot.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to park over there,” I said as I pointed towards the kiddy /pavilion/and walking path park.  I figured we had plenty of time.  We walked a neighborhood street and continued our walk around and toward the school.  Jenna didn’t want to be late.  I don’t know why she thinks if I don’t have her there just one second before 8:00 that she will be late for school.  Silly girl.

Humane Sacrifice

         

  
       Jenna had a high pain thresh hold for many years and didn’t seem whimpy at all.  But now she seems to be the opposite – making mountains out of molehills (so to speak)

She took a spill quite recently and landed on her hand.  In the process she may have sprained her wrist.  She wore an ace bandage to school and says she wants a cast – but I don’t believe that her wrist is broken.  But she says she is too weak and has a tough time with it.  One specific example that she used was in getting dressed.

I reminded her about Katy Plumis who you can read about here and here. Jenna asked me to remind me about how Katy lost her arm.  I told her that Katy had been thrown out of a car because she wasn’t wearing a seatbelt.  Katy’s cousin was killed in that same accident.

Jenna then says to me that she’d rather lose her arm than her life.  But then she said something profound that pleased me because of her mature thoughtfulness.  She said she would die if it would prevent Anna (her cousin) from dying.

Happy Memories

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When Jenna was younger, we would go for walks ALL of the time.  I would point things out as we passed different yards.  “Oh, look at the flowers”  “See that pretty pin wheel” 

 The thing that she seemed to overlook with each yard I pointed out was the well.  I never understood why she couldn’t see them.  Several yards contained some form of a wishing well.  I don’t know how many walks we took before I realized she was looking for a “whale”

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Jenna was three the first time we had taken her to Arizona.  We were actually in the city part when Jenna asked, “Are we in a dessert?” 

I turned around in disbelief.  How did she know that Arizona is a desert state? 

“Yes we are.” I proudly beamed.

Jenna appeared to be highly disappointed.  And here is why:

“I have looked and looked and I have not seen a camel anywhere.”

Oops.  Wrong desert.

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My Grandma and I had gone to a Ferrell’s ice cream parlor in Hawaii.  The Hawaiian menu offered a variety of dishes that were different from the Utah menu.  I thought  it would be fun to take a few menus home and trade them for a couple of Utah menus and watch as people would order these foreign creations which might fluster the waitress as it was obviously a Farrell’s menu – but wasn’t familiar with most of the items listed.

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Farrell’s had advertised soda water for  two cents a glass.  Patrick and two of his friends decided that they wanted to “splurge”  They got soda waters for each of them – that’s it.  I don’t think they fully understood what they were ordering.

One friend managed to drink it all.  I believe Patrick said he had swallowed down half of his.  But Mark could not get past the first taste.  After having gagged down the first swallow, he refused to drink any more of his two cent purchase. The entire bill came to six cents.  They left a fifty cent tip.


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Jenna loved fire hats and fire engines and fire fighter equipment.  I really thought that she would want to grow up to be a fire fighter.  But when asked, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" she had it narrowed down to two: either a pirate or a ballerina.

Mystery Solved . . . or at least Somewhat Satisfied

Amongst mom’s journals are more photos of – who are these people?

Corey scanned the photos he had come across and emailed them to me asking if I might possible be able to identify any of members.  We didn’t actually know if they were photos from our family or my mom’s stepfather and the only grandpa that we ever knew.

Uncle Bruce said he’d be coming to town to visit mom. I wasn’t certain what month he would arrive but said he could come to the Memorial Day BBQ if he happened to be in town at that time.  It wasn’t until we were at the BBQ that I learned he had initially thought he’d come in June, but changed plans for the BBQ.

I had told Corey to bring the photos to the BBQ and ask Uncle Bruce about them – as he might be the only one with some clue – though Bruce doesn’t seem like the sentimental type – not at all.  Nor does he really know his dad or his dad’s side of the family – which is where it was decided that most of the photos were from.  It was mom who provided the names and BJ would nod and say, “Yea, that could be . . .”

Even Roland was able to participate with his uniform knowledge.  As Grandpa Bruce and his brothers had all joined the navy, it was decided that Marine belonged to another family.

Patrick made jokes to lighten the mood (as he always does) and I appreciate his humor.  Even Corey has picked up a little of that.

Sadly mom did not even recognize her own brother.  She would ask what his name was before.  He’d been named after their father Bruce James Purdy – who was against having a Junior.  So they named their last son Bruce J. Purdy.  Always an initial – never a full name.  He had always gone by Bruce, never BJ. Their mom and dad had divorced when he was just seven or eight – and so there never really was that confusion about “Which Bruce?” But mom just didn’t remember his name.

She remembers her brother who passed away recently.  She knows he’s deceased.  Right now she’s aware that he was a man when he passed away.  I thought her mind would somehow convince her that he had died at the age of two. It won’t surprise if she ever does think that.

Corey keyed in the names that mom had provided him – happy to have the information that really seems closer to accurate than any of the rest of us could provide.  Unfortunately there are two family lines that we really just don’t have much information for – the Purdy’s being one of them.

DownPour on My Birthday

I recall a few of my birthdays were cooler than normal – requiring a sweatshirt or summer jacket.  Never a rain slicker!  Not quite a monsoon but certainly not what I’ve grown accustomed to.  I can’t see to drive on the roads.  There’s not enough light.

          Corey and Joh offered to pay for new glasses – but I don’t know that a stronger prescription is really the answer.  The way the doctor explained it to me is that I have weird shaped eyes that just don’t seem to let in the right amount of light needed for me to see throughout each day.  I’m certain that I will go blind eventually. 

          Besides I’d rather have spent the money on shoes or new pants for Roland or something that seemed to take precedence for me.  And we have been blessed in major ways.

          On Saturday Jenna spent the day with her friend August.  When we pulled up in front of the driveway, we could see items being set up for a yard sale.  When the sale was over, the family loaded up a bag of clothes for Jenna.  Three pairs of shoes that appear as though they’ve never been worn. 

          And last night my youngest niece also sent us home with a bag of clothes and a box of shoes.  And I really have been needing shoes – so this is great!! 

          I think the majority of shoes are too big for Jenna, but she’s at the point where she likes wearing big shoes.  Her feet will eventually get bigger than mine.  And then her shoes will be big on me.

          This weather right now reminds me of a time twelve years ago, before Roland and I were married.  I had taken the boys to see my mom at the place where she was working.  At least two of them had their heads hanging out the window and made comments as though they were pirates or sailors fighting off a storm.

          There was also the many times that my family went on vacations – didn’t matter where.  We’d have rain.  We’d have car problems.  Often both.

          The wettest family vacation rain that I remember was the year dad drove us to southern California and enjoy Disneyland and Universal.  It poured the day we went to Universal. POURED!  And it is still one of my greatest memories.

          We had gone on a tour bus.  When the driver dropped us off, he told us that we had to be back by 5:00 pm or we would have to find another method of transportation back to our motel.

          Our experience was awesome.  No lines to wait in.  We got to see EVERYTHING.  Universal never sold so many raincoats and umbrellas on any given day.  As we did not bring rain gear and couldn’t afford six coats to wear, either mom or dad suggested garbage sacks and so we put them over our heads and cut holes for our faces. We spent the entire day going from exhibit to exhibit in our garbage sack ponchos.  It is a really great memory for me and Corey in particular.

          We returned to the bus at 4:30 – the last group of people to arrive.  It seemed that everyone else had been waiting on the bus for at least two hours and were a bit perturbed with us for taking so long.  Hey, we arrived a half hour earlier than the designated time.  And we definitely got our money’s worth.  It was fun!

A Little Romance . . .

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I went to Alpine Ridge where mom is staying.  I was surprised to see Harold sitting on her bed and visiting with her.  He was saying that he has six boys – while mom has only four children – two girls and two boys.  But she claims to have a lot more pictures than Harold.

I told her I had come to take her to a family dinner – but we had time to visit before we left.  Jenna’s eyes lit up when Harold mentioned Peanut Brittle.  He said he had been in a place before this one and they let him make peanut brittle in the microwave.  But one day the microwave started smoking and they never let him in the kitchen again.  And then he had to move.

Jenna absorbed it all – hanging on to his every word.  I decided that his mind works the same as mom’s and his time frame is different as well as some of his facts.  He said he wanted to take mom flying – not that he’s a pilot.  He wouldn’t be driving the plane, but would like to take mom up just the same.  He doesn’t know when, but it will be in Heber.  He asked me if that would be okay.  I said Sure.

Roland was coming straight from work, and I had asked him to meet us at Alpine Ridge so we could just take one car and return for the other when we brought mom back. He called from the parking lot when we arrived and asked us to come out.

So mom said her good-byes to me and Jenna. 

“But you’re going with us,” I said.

“But I have company.”

Fortunately Harold excused himself and said it was okay if she needed to go.  I reminded mom that her living brother would had come for a visit and would be joining us as well as Corey and Joh.  She was willing to leave Harold for Corey - afterall he is her favorite.

So Harold adjusted himself bent over his walker, and mom stood up and they kissed.  It was cute.  Reminded me of Jenna’s first day of Pre-school when she and Paul were holding hands.

I don’t think they’re more than just friends, but it was interesting to watch.

That's My Jenna

Her hair always seems to be disheveled at best

Doesn’t wish to hold barrettes or bows or curls

Usually she has hair hanging in her face

She is far from being one of those prissy girls

She’ll wear shoes just in order to climbs trees

Clothes don’t stay clean or well kept for long

She loves the outdoors, she loves to explore

She’s always been free-spirited and head-strong

Her favorite Princess is Brave’s Merida

Who is concerned with things more important than looks

She discovers as much as she can first handedly

And has many adventures through her books

I would like to say that she is one of a kind

But I see in her my own mirror to the past

When I was the one with the mussed up hair

Climbing trees and making adventures last

                                                                                                                           kfralc

Exploring is a Natural Part of Childhood Growth

Someone from the community garden had made the comment that each of our kids will look back to the days they went exploring and played while their parents worked in the garden.  Jenna has always found pleasure in farm equipment and likes to pretend she’s driving the broken down tractor, but she is especially enthralled when Parker comes to the garden with his parents.

Last Monday there were four of them who went exploring.  Jenna wore my garden hat, and it made for a cute picture – though I did not have my camera to capture the children as they prodded and poked through the trees.  Watching the four of them reminded me of my own youth when my brother, cousins and I would explore beyond Grandma Helen’s backyard and delighted in our adventures – well, at least two of us did.

Grandma’s house was located on a hill right behind the Salt Lake City capitol building.  I have the fondest memories of her house.  At the time, I did not realize that Grandma had designed the house – her dream house.  I don’t know if she described what she wanted and had somebody else draw the blue prints or if I misunderstood altogether – but I had heard that she designed it – though I do not know to what extent.

I think if I try to count how many rooms were in that house, I will forget a few as it’s been several years since Grandma left her house on the hill and moved into a condo that seemed more convenient as far as upkeep and being closer to where her boys lived.  I was the same age as Jenna is right now – so obviously your perception of life is a lot different at age nine than almost 51. 

I remember there was a door on every room and one to the hall and that if we shurt every door we could shine the projector on the wall and watch cartoons.  I remember spending the night and sleeping in the bedroom with the twin beds and yellow bed spreads.  I remember practicing skits near the fireplace in the basement.  I remember the excitement of discovering the cellar and all the other rooms in the basement.  I remember losing a boat load of toys in the bushes outside.

Grandma had a snowball bush and I remember one year when we tore off all the snowballs and jumped into them the way one jumps into leaf piles in the fall.  We had a lot of fun – but when grandma had learned what we had done, she was mad.  I don’t remember her ever becoming that angry with us.

Sometimes we would actually venture away from the property.  Explore abandoned cars, try to hike to the W (I think it was a W – four burnt logs on the hill – or so I believed) and fearing those riding dirt bikes and motorcycles. I think we may have tried walking to the capitol building – though we never made it.

Roaming Lacy’s property is not quite the same as exploring the hills behind the capitol.  It does make me smile to watch Jenna make discoveries.  I’m sorry that she will never know the house where my grandma lived.  Corey and Kayla both missed out as well.  The condo was the only house they ever knew with grandma – though Corey is familiar with the concept of the house on the hill – because there are pictures.  But he was just a baby when she moved.  He wasn’t even walking, I don’t think.

There are pictures of each of us at mom’s house – different years and different furniture.  The evolution of rainbirds and manually turning the on the water as opposed to the automatic sprinkler system and dry grass and garden attempts to baby tree landscape to huge trees that Anna and Garrett will never know.

Memories.  That’s all they are now.   

My Garden Pants

When I purchased these pants – I don’t know how many years ago – it was not my intention to wear them in the garden.  They were comfortable shorts – okay, maybe a bit longer than shorts, but something I could throw on during the summer and not feel the heat of the fabric surrounding me like an unwanted blanket. 

There is a knot in the front.  Well, several knots, really.  I don’t know how to maintain them.  I have tried different methods for keeping them straight when I put them in the wash, but somehow they always manage to twist themselves together.  It seems the harder I work at keeping them straight and make attempts to keep them from knotting, the more knots and tangles will form before I remove the pants from the washer.

I can’t find them now, but there used to be some rather ugly stains in addition to the knots.  Thus they became my garden pants.  As they were already stained, I didn’t figure being in the dirt with them would be a big problem.  Imagine my surprise when I took them off the clothesline and spred them out to take a picture and now I can’t find the stains that were there. 

Nice job, Mr. Sun!

"And Ye Shall Plant a Garden . . ."

 We planted beans, beets, onions, and peppers.  Roland asked if we should do corn or tomatoes again.  I don’t really care about the corn, but I do enjoy being able to eat tomatoes off the vine rather than paying an outrageous price at the store for something that just isn’t as good.

But there were plenty of tomatoes with the community garden last year – and as Roland donated all our tomato cages to the cause – we decided that we would just use the tomatoes from the community garden and that would be enough. 

It was overcast and cool.  Roland wanted to finish before any rain fell down.  The dirt looked light and dry as it spit around the cultivator.  We dug holes for seeds and plants and planted stakes at each end and tied string from one end to the other and were pleased.  Though Roland seemed to want more.

Lacy and her husband have a fair amount of property.  I would guess roughly about three or four acres – but that is just a guess.  There’s a bunch of us who have used a patch of their land for our community garden.

Dan is in charge and had scheduled for those that had contributed to come plant on Saturday.  That cancelled due to the rain but we were asked to come on Monday night and dress appropriately for possible mud.  And so the community garden was put on hold.

Monday Roland returned from work with six tomato plants and corn and strawberries.  He always wants to plant strawberries – but we haven’t been very successful with fruit (except for the tomatoes – which are technically a fruit) .  We’ve tried blackberries, blueberries, strawberries, melons, grapes.  We get apples on our apple trees, but we don’t eat them.  We did eat the plums from the trees when we lived in our first house. Somebody else planted them.  They seemed to grow fine without our help.

Since we don’t have the tomato cages anymore, Roland used some signs that he had from his last job – another of his creative solutions. Thus we stood the frames next to the plants  for the tomatoes to lean against when they become large like the first sets we grew.

So we found a couple of areas and Roland cultivated the land.  It had been raining all day and the soil looked rich and dark – but it wasn’t muddy.  The sun was beating down while we were planting.  We both wore hats.  The one that I wore I had purchased specifically for gardening as it shaded me.  Roland wore a safari hat.  But the shadow of him wearing the hat made him appear to be an actual farmer. My shadow gives off the image of a true gardener (LOL)

Just as we had finished, it grew overcast again.  And then we went over to the community garden to plant and covered each plant with milk cartons to keep the birds away.  But I see another definite plus with the milk cartons – when the weeds start popping up, it will be easier to tell which are weeds and which are plants.  Pull everything NOT surrounded by milk carton.

I can’t remember if Dan said if we were planting fruit or not.  Those that couldn’t show on Monday were requested to come Wednesday to plant corn, beets and pumpkins (Corey refers to the squash varieties of the Y’s of the fruit world; you know how Y can act as either a consonant or a vowel in the English alphabet.  Squash and tomatoes, pumpkins . . . they’re all a part of the fruit family though most people consider them to be vegetables)

  

 Seems more peppers were added to the crop this year – and more varieties.  I personally don’t care if a chili pepper or jalepeno pepper ever make an appearance in this house. 

Roland and I grew pumpkins one year – we were hoping for the kind that can be carved into Jack-o-lanterns, but they were an unfamiliar squash that we could only paint faces on.  Or in this case: