Murphy is More Opposed to Super Saturday than I am

If anything can go wrong,

it will

– Murphy’s Law

Okay,

this post may be a bit long

and a bit drawn out

especially if I put it

in verse style. 

You don’t have to read it.

Just after we moved

to West Valley and 

attended church,

I was called to be

on the committee for 
the activities for 
the Relief Society. 

Kristen was the activities’ director 
(or enrichment hostess

or homemaking guide

or whatever they called it then)

I was grateful to be

and enjoyed my calling

on the committee

but not as the chief.

It couldn’t have been more

than five months (or so it felt)

before Kristen was called to be

the primary president

and Loretta was handed the reigns of 
RS activity director. 

She did not seem to

want a committee. 

I thought she was bananas.

When Loretta moved

out of the ward,

Hannah was asked to do the calling.   
Enthusiastic Hannah who

always puts such excitement

into no matter what position

she is called to

and always serves with a genuine and powerful smile. 

She actually reminds me a lot of

my sister-in-law, Sunny,

who always radiates positiveness.

I didn’t think

anyone could ever fill her shoes – just as I didn’t think

anyone could fill Super Ruby’s shoes

(who at the time

was serving as Relief Society President)

but most callings

(at least that’s been my observation

in this ward) don’t last

more than a couple of years

(leadership positions would be the exception)

Meanwhile Kristen

(the same one who had been called

to primary president)

was returned to Relief Society

– this time as RS president.

Hannah had actually worn many hats

all at the same time (or so it seemed)

and was released a while later

to fulfill other callings. 

Pamela’s calling was short lived

or so it seems. 

She was called to be a primary worker. 

She is currently enjoying

the coveted positon of teaching

the class in which my daughter

is the only female member

in attendance. 

And guess who got called

to be RS activity chief

after Pamela left?

What was the Lord thinking

to call me to that position? 

What’s more, why did I agree?

Pamela appeared

to be quite organized

as she handed me a binder

full of information

that I could use or change

at my discretion. 

Kristen asked if I wanted

a large committee. 

Heck, yes. 

How many sisters could we call?  

I wanted at least one representative

of every age

and personality.  

I think we ended up with twelve. 

We’ve never held a meeting

with more than six (well eight

with me and Scarlett – who is

the enrichment/activity/homemaking counselor 
– whatever her title is. 

Heck.  I don’t even know my own title)

So the first thing on the agenda

is Super Saturday (I believe) 

which I so don’t care about. 

Actually there have been scads of activites

that I haven’t cared about. 

I usually to the enrichment/activity nights for

the association and not for

the activity itself. 

It hasn’t mattered which ward

I’ve been in. 

I have never stayed for

an entire Super Saturday.

And in this case

Murphy wants to take over

– has from the start. 

Stupid Murphy.

Kristen conducted the first meeting

as I appeared clueless on

what the word “conduct” even meant. 

She wrote down ideas and

outlines on the board. 

She has always had the appearance

of being greatly organized. 

Some of the members on my committee

took great notes. 

One actually took a picture

of the board. 

I was still in a trans. 

After I returned home,

I realized I had done absolutely nothing. 

I had not written anything. 

That’s not good.

I should be released.

Our Super Saturday was set

for August I believe,

but we hadn’t advertised,

nor did we ever

have a large audience to advertise to.

Summer seemed unproductive. 

Church attendance was down

all the way around. 

Good time to travel,

I guess.

I changed Super Saturday to September. 

Or tried to.  T

turned out not to be a good month

 for my instructors.

We had four activities to choose from

– I think. 

Pamela would teach sisters

to sew really cute pot holders,

Kim had her blocks

that seemed to be quite popular

at the last Super Saturday.

I was going to do

a recycling demonstration

and Tina had offered to teach flowers

or else we would frost cakes or cookies? 

Perhaps that was a suggestion for another activity? 

But nobody could do it in September. 

Change date again? 

or cancel all together? 

I wish I had just cancelled. 

I didn’t realize that Janice

(one of my committee members

who had come to just our first meeting)

had made arrangements to have

her niece speak that month.

Meanwhile I planned a 
different activity for September – 
one in which we would get 
to know one another.   
We pulled it off.   
Those who attended 
said they enjoyed.   
Super Saturday may not have 
the same results.  
For here is the latest catastrophe:

Yesterday I receive an invitation

to attend a luncheon

given by the wives of the stake presidency

to the wives of the bishoprics

the Bishopric Wives Appreciation Luncheon. 

Guess when it is? 

The same day scheduled as Super Saturday. 

I’d really like to go to it. 

But that’s not the worse of it. 

Pamela is one of the people to RSVP

– she can’t do the luncheon

and teach on Super Saturday. 

Right now I cannot get a hold of her.

Guess I’ll be emailing Scarlett. 

I have a feeling it’s going

to be a chain of reaction thing

that will affect Kim

one way or the other. 

Or perhaps all the sisters who signed up.

Would it be possible to change it again?

I should be released.

“Birthday Surprises” Review

Johanna Hurwitz edited the book “Birthday Surprises” found in the juvenile literature section in the library.  Easy reading and highly entertaining.  I think Jenna will enjoy it.

Johanna Hurwitz had asked ten children’s authors to come up with a story involving a child celebrating his or her birthday; several presents and a beautifully decorated box that’s empty.  I LOVED it.  I loved the creativity.  I loved how different each story was.

Pam Conrad wrote quite a touching story about a man in a rest home who’s about to celebrate his 100^th birthday and is worried about what his sister will do when she shows up for the party.

His great great grandson listens to the details of a memory of the last time he had seen his sister and his gift (or lack thereof) and how his predictions were so different from what had really taken place.  The only story that brought tears to my eyes.

Ellen Conford’s story was hilarious.  A girl (Diane) writes in her journal about her party and her friends and one girl in particular, Tracy – her frenemy (she doesn’t call her that – but that’s how it reads) and how much Tracy is at fault when it seems pretty clear to the reader that it is Diane who is clueless as she writes about whatever is “not” bothering her.

I really enjoyed the poem written by Karla Kuskin and the creative imagination on the part of the receiver and what genuine happiness.  I like the imaginative ending.

Johanna Hurwitz also brings a humorous piece of her own – written in the form of several letters to and from the “Nature Wonder & Company”, the parents of an unhappy birthday boy, and the birthday boy himself. 

I found each story to be very clever and enjoyed each for different reasons.  I loved this book!  I hope Jenna loves it as well. 

Great Reads for Girls: Mother/Daughter Book Group

During the summer Jenna kept on hounding me, “When is the next reading club?”

Not until September.

I LOVE the line-up of books we get to read this year.  I’ve actually read half of them already.

Our first meeting was  last night.  We had checked the book out just the week before.  Fortunately for us, it was easy reading and we had finished the book on Tuesday morning. 

I was happy as we read that what we read had historical truth – meaning the book “Riding Freedom’  I did not realize until just before the last two chapters that Pam Munoz Ryan had written this historical fiction about Charlotte Darkey Parkhurst  or one-eyed Charley –

Charlotte was an orphan who lived at a poorhouse along with several other orphans – all male.  Charlotte was needed in the kitchen and those in charge made certain that there would never be an opportunity for her to be adopted.  When Charlotte’s best friend, Hayden, is adopted, she decides to run away.

The story takes place in the mid 1800’s when women didn’t travel alone and were not given the right to vote among other things.  Charlotte disguised herself as a boy and worked like a boy and eventually would pass herself off as the greatest stage driver and vote as a man. 

After the story is an account of the real Charlotte or Charles Darkey Parkhurst – which is the name she used on the registrar to vote – over 50 years before women were allowed to vote.  It was not discovered until after her death that she was indeed female.

Next month’s book is ‘The Great Ivan” – which we’ve already read.  You can read some of my review on this post. 

Roosevelts had Secrets; not Cool Kids

   

            I love hearing Jenna sing.  Often I am surprised to hear her sing along with songs that I have never even heard before.  One of those is the catchy “Cool Kids” by Echosmith.  Here is just one video with lyrics.

            As we were walking to school yesterday, she was not only singing the song, but made comments as well – how she and her friend Paul wish they were “cool kids”.  She was spending her recess with Paul and another boy who recently ditched them for his sports and Paul actually has safety patrol duty and so Jenna often feels alone.  She does have friends at Vantanna.  I KNOW she has friends.

            It’s not like her first school when she really was among the more popular kids at her school – in fact still is popular at her first school – which is funny; she hasn’t attended that school for over five years now. 

Popularity is not necessarily the greatest thing.  I had told her that before we moved.  What a devastating blow it’s been to her since we moved to West Valley.  Though she continues to seek friends, she is often a loner.

            I too, was a loner at school.  There were times I wish I hadn’t been treated like I was invisible, but I didn’t necessarily wish to give up my individualism in order to fit in. I did suppose that being treated as though I didn’t exist was better than being bullied.  I have often wondered what it is that makes “cool kids” cool and why they have such a following.

            I reminded Jenna that school popularity (or lack thereof) does not necessarily define who you will turn out to be.  I told her that there are many celebrities and historical figures that had been mistreated who still came to make a name for themselves.  Often times the result has had a positive effect or influence on many others.  There are also a number of “popular” kids that don’t know how to face the adult world once school has ended.

            Currently I am involved in watching the PBS series: “Roosevelts/An Intimate History”  Both Theodore and Franklin were bullied and teased in their youth.  They were not well liked.  And look at what an influence they had on the country that they served.  

 

            Eleanor had quite a difficult childhood and was verbally abused by her mother and not well accepted by her mother-in-law who seemed to have this insecure hold upon her son – casting Eleanor to the shadows at best.  I believe that Eleanor Roosevelt is the most quoted of any other first lady in American history.

            They had hard lives.  They had many secrets.  They kept their private lives private – tried to anyway.  Theodore went on to be the youngest president (though JFK was not much older) that we’ve ever had.  FDR served more years than any other president.  Both made considerable accomplishments – and contributions.  Not that their lives were ever what some might view as “sunshine and roses” but they did touch many other lives in a positive way.  Not everyone – but many.

            I think it’s great when we can turn our hardships to someone’s advantage (if not our own) and create positive things or examples of overcoming and becoming.  I think it’s great when “cool kids” are positive and friendly and don’t exclude.  I hope that Jenna will grow and stay herself and still be accepted.  We each have talents that make us cool.  Even though others may not recognize the “coolness” I hope she recognizes it in herself.

94 in Death Valley

I so love this time of the year

In the morning just before the sun rises

At night – just as the sun is setting.

The weather is fair.  I like the cool air.

But the sun beats down in between.

It shouldn’t be this warm hot in September

I think it feels like Baker or Death Valley, California. 

I suppose that would be a slight exaggeration.

94 degrees might be considered cool for Death Valley

 

I remember one year my family was on our way to Bakersfield, California to see Corey in a play

We stopped off in Baker to get a bite to eat

The air was hot.  Unbearably hot. And dry. 

It was said the temperature was 117.

Patrick had gone into the men’s restroom to remove his shirt and douse it in water.  What a great idea!  I went to the women’s restroom and did the same. 

Our shirts were dry before we got back in the car.

 

Baker boasts to have the world’s tallest thermometer.  It is 134 feet tall.

The height represents the ground breaking Fahrenheit temperature of Death Valley’s hottest day. 

On the thermometer are the words: “Baker ca Gateway to Death Valley”

Corey had taken a picture back in the day before everybody had digital

He didn’t realize the word Valley had been cut off but posted his picture anyway

He thought it amusing and shared his photo

Baker ca Gateway to Death

Walking from the bus stop to the school and then back again is like walking through Death (or to Death – not the way I want to go)

I Be Chasing Shadows

I notice that when Jenna and I walk to school in the morning, the sun casts long shadows ahead of us.  Our shadows are tall and thin.  My morning shadow is not fat like I am.  People that know me now would never guess that I had once been mistaken for being anorexic.

Jenna wishes she could touch the shadow, jump on top and hold it down or something – but knows that when she moves her shadow will too.  She knows she will never catch it.

I smile when I think about the animated series “Peep” which featured an episode about the three friends following their shadows.  Their destination is to visit the island located in the west.  They start their journey in the morning when their shadows are long. 

By noon they are tired and their shadows seem to have disappeared.  The three decide to take a nap under a tree and hope to find their shadows when they awake.  They do.

Not realizing the sun has cast their shadows into the opposite direction, they continue following their shadows back to where they started.  They don’t understand as they had followed their shadows the entire time. 

As they turn around to look at where they’d been, they notice the most amazing sunset.  The wisest of the three points out that even though they may not have found what they had set out for, they could still appreciate their journey and the unexpected result.

I like that philosophy. 

Thank you Rocky Mountain Power (and What Devastation)

            I didn’t realize that Jenna viewed the crab apple tree as a friend.  A good friend at that.  True, it often did provide shade over her trampoline.  She also got bonked by tree branches when she jumped too high.  And she was always having to sweep debris off the tarp – mostly from crab apples and leaves.

            There was a crab apple tree in the front yard of the house that I grew up in.  Beautiful pink blossoms filled the tree in spring.  Several of us spent hours climbing the trunk and branches.  I suppose it provided shade.  I didn’t dislike the tree, but I certainly didn’t love it.

I never got why anyone would purposely plant a tree that produced such horrible fruit.  What is the point of crab apples anyway?  Thousands of cherry-sized “apples” covered our lawn.  I am guessing that is why it never came up lush green.  The grass didn’t like crab apples either.

            The crab apple tree on our WV property was located at the end of the yard behind the house.  It had grown wild and needed pruning.  It seemed like I was always cutting branches whenever I’d hang clothes.  For the most part it was the only time I’d really take notice of the tree.

            The tree had been planted beneath power lines – both electrical and telephone lines.  A March wind had sent some branches to rub against the power lines earlier this year.  My neighbors said there were sparks.  I called RMP the next day.  I was told someone would be out at the beginning of summer.

            Summer came and went.  I never saw anybody.  But RMP had also had pressing challenges with the elements creating fires or floods and a lot of power outages.  The company had more than its fill, I’m sure.   I had only that one report of sparks flying.  Still . . . if a power outage were to happen, I wanted to be able to say that I had called and made a report that the tree had grown around the lines.

            I was told that someone had come out and looked at the tree and didn’t foresee a problem, but that they’d send someone out again.  On Thursday I was told that there were nine lines going through the tree and that someone would be out later that afternoon or else yesterday morning.  I knew I wouldn’t be home Thursday night and had left a note.  Whether they came last night or not, I don’t know.  But they were waiting for me when I got home yesterday morning.

            I had left the same note with a couple of changes.  I said I would be back between 9:00 and 9:30.  I arrived at 8:50.  At first I thought the city had sent a crew to repave the road when I saw a work sign and polycones paved on one side.  A truck was parked in front of my neighbor’s house.  It was a tree truck.  They must have been waiting.  I forgot to ask how long.

           




 I don’t know why it is I find I need to take so many pictures of transformation, but I do.  I like to see how this 









went to this 

 or this 

to this.  

 Or this 

to this.   

And I take a lot more pictures than I really need (although I don’t necessarily NEED any of them) but I like to have a variety to pick from – in case I need to use illustrations because my words just can’t seem to capture what the camera does.

            I thought the crew did a marvelous job.  One man said that what could be seen above was worse than what we predicted from the ground.  If we had had a worse wind, we could have had a fire.  There would have definitely been a power outage to who knows how many people would have been affected.  We have been blessed that we didn’t have to deal with that.  We’ve been blessed in many ways, actually.

            I think the removal of the tree is a good thing.  Roland agrees – though he’s always seen the tree as a catch 22.  But Jenna has been crying over the tree – literally. She liked the blossoms.  Yes, like I’m going to keep a tree just for two weeks of blossoms.  (They have never made it to three full weeks)

            I’m so sorry for your loss, Jenna, but you need to understand - the danger was more severe than we had imagined.  I am told the elements would have killed the tree eventually and the damage would have been much more severe.

            Thank you RMP for keeping us safe and for doing such a great job and for sparing me for having any feelings of guilt had there been a power outage or fire . . . even though I had nothing to do with the existence of the tree.

            Someday Jenna may understand.

Where’s My Rain?

         So often the weather forecast promises rain – and there are a few drops.  Sometimes we have showers that last almost twenty minutes.  Jenna and I will sit under the carport and watch the rain.  I love rain. 

         The promised rain always goes somewhere.  Often it is not received as a good thing.  It has caused the earth to moisten to the point of mud slide causing extreme financial damage – not to mention has left some homeless.   Or having I-15 close – in the dessert of all places.  That’s just mind-boggling.

         For me personally, Rain has always been a positive thing.  As I mentioned in this post, at least half my family vacations involved rain – not that we had planned it that way.  Dad always helped us to make the best of it, and we learned to accept and enjoy.

         I have fond memories not only of places that I’ve been, but the attitude of those that have surrounded me.  We always had fun in spite of the rain or because of it.

         There are several times I have taken my umbrella and have not needed it or purposely didn’t take it with me because I wanted to welcome the moisture.  Each time the forecast says “rain” – there is, but always elsewhere.

         I had planned to go to Kayla’s on Monday – right after I dropped Jenna off at school.  That day the wind was blowing – getting ready for the supposed expected storm.  The air was cool.  I might have enjoyed it, except for some reason it seemed all my energy (which lately isn’t a lot) had been sucked out of me.  I was so tired.  My presence wasn’t going to do either Kayla or the children any good.  And so I went home and slept.

         Yesterday morning was overcast – but hot.  And not a humid hot.  A dry hot.  Like when you are standing too close to the vent and it shoots a warm dry air up your body.  I found the thick heat to be smothering.  After I left Jenna, I got on the bus headed toward Kayla’s house.  When the bus turned the corner, black clouds had filled the air.  I could get rained on, I had decided.  And I welcomed the rain – though my backpack didn’t.  I hadn’t thought to bring an umbrella to keep my backpack dry.

The rain had stopped by the time I got off the second bus. By the time I left Kayla’s house, we couldn’t even prove that it had been raining - well, except for my overly damp backpack.

This morning seemed fair.  I wore a light jacket.  It came off before Jenna and I parted ways.  I am warm again.  I would much rather have the rain than the blaring heat of the sun or the hot dry air that makes me feel like I’m trapped in a sauna and can’t ever get out.  Why do people pay to sit in saunas anyway?  I know from experience that it is less costly just to sit in your car – particularly if it’s a dark one. 

Rambling Thoughts, Changes and Observations

Each morning as Jenna and I walk to the bus, we notice the sprinklers watering the lush green grass on the corner   

and I think how nice it would be to have lush green grass.

Never in my life has the yard outside of whatever house I’ve lived in, has there been lush green grass inviting my bare feet to run through it.

For the most part, if ever I have been brave enough to go barefooted, my feet scream at me and remind me that there are dry patches among the green but still non-lush.

I find that when I just wear sandals outside of the last two houses I have lived, the thorns and stickweed chock the life out of whatever we’d like to be growing. 

They scratch at my feet and my legs and imbed themselves
 into the soles of my shoes and often hitch rides into the house.

We did not water this year.  Water pressure is down 
devoting four hours a day to my less than promising lawn was not a priority.  Rather a waste of time
 (and water)

Our yard actually does not much worse than it has the years we have tried to nurture.

I ride the bus.

I notice many buses seem to be coming out of retirement.

They’re not all old relics.  But I was on one the other day that had the vinyl blue seat

The same vinyl seats I remember from the first time I had ever taken the bus.

But that was over 30 years ago.  Surely it’s not that old.

But the seats seemed to be closer to the floor

As my knees seemed more bent and up in my face somehow

And there was no legroom – or perhaps it just seemed that way because the seats are so close to the floor.

Sometimes those relics are used for training purposes. 

I have been a passenger on buses in which the driver is still training.

I wonder how long it takes to train before they get to be out on their own.

UTA offers more than 100 routes.  I don’t know how many buses are needed for each route. 

I would guess more than a thousand buses. 

Some have been in recent crashes.

Some have just given out for whatever reason.

That’s a lot of buses – not to mention the flex buses and ski buses and whatever else.

When we got to the school, Jenna made some comment about what she’s learning

I don’t remember what it was, but I questioned it and compared to my own upbringing.

“It’s a different century mom.”

She’s right.  Both my mom and I had gone to school in the 20^th century.

Jenna wasn’t even born until the 21^st. 

Not the way she meant it, but it made me think.

We really are going two schools in two different centuries

I’ve brainstormed thoughts for a while now. 

But I either couldn’t sit down to form sentences

Or was just too tired to.

I have lacked motivation.

The weather is changing.

I wear a jacket to the bus stop

and when we walk to the school

But it usually comes off before I cross the street

to catch the return bus home

 

I prefer the cool weather.

I don’t like it when it’s hot.

I haven’t melted yet.

That’s something.