By Appointment Only

         Recently I was contacted by the American Red Cross to donate blood.  Roland gets contacted every two months - like the American Cross has preprogrammed for automatic dial.  With me, it really is a matter of desperation.  Roland's blood type is in the rare percentage that can be used on babies.  I don't know who may have ended up with my blood.  Somebody who needed it - but not in major quantity.

         The last time Roland had been contacted, he learned that there would be a blood drive at the local high school.  He told me about it and had actually made appointments for both of us. Or at least that was my understanding.

         So when I was contacted, I told the caller that I already had an appointment.  Two days later I was told there would no longer be a drive at the high school, but that I could donate in Canyonville that day or at the Elk's Lodge her in Myrtle Creek today.  Thursday is Roland's late day, and so I did not think that would work for him, but he thought he would be able to do it during his lunch hour.  Say what?

         As I recall, it was a dreary day when I received the call and I didn't particularly want to drive to Canyonville in that kind of weather.  So I set up the appointments for today.  I just couldn't remember what time.

         Thus I drove there this morning and was told that my name had not been added to the list and that the list was full and they would not be receiving walk-ins.  Too bad.  Somebody didn't communicate very well.  Meanwhile they lost two others that had come as walk-ins and lost two unable to keep appointments.

         Four chair/beds were set up for donators. I think the same amount of booths for screening.  Unfortunately for all of us, this particular chapter seemed to be quite understaffed - even for those that did have appointments.  Too bad.  The two men that were there looked capable of finding my veins right away (which seems to be a challenge to almost everybody who has poked me)

         I guess we'll have to try again later. I know that blood is needed.  Apparently even blood like mine.

Breakfast For Dinner

        Missionaries appreciate not only meeting the members, but having someone cook dinner for them - or at least I did.  Depending on the area,  I suppose there are some meals that can get tiresome for missionaries.  Spaghetti seems to be a huge staple.  Missionaries seem to get their fill of pizza in the ward I currently reside.  In my mission, the meal that was overdone always included fried chicken and some unidentified vegetable that had been boiled beyond recognition. 

        Serving chicken was so overdone that before my mission ended,  I was certain that I wouldn't care if I ever ate chicken again. And I think it was seriously a couple of years before I willingly ate it again.

        Roland always likes to do something different for the missionaries - something original that they (the missionaries) don't get very often.  We've had Hawaiian haystacks (we've actually had other members tell us how much the missionaries raved over that one), steak, meatloaf and one Jenna's favorites: breakfast.

        Although we weren't signed up to feed the missionaries until last night, Roland thought we should time ourselves the night prior just to see how long it took to make it all.  We had blueberry pancakes, scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, hasbrowns, assorted muffins and juice.  Elder Campbell gave us the thumbs up.  The meal was quite a success.  Jenna missed having French toast, but really . . . that was a lot of food.

        We used paper plates and cups but not  disposable pans or serving dishes.  The sink was quite full like would be on Thanksgiving.  I haven't yet finished the dishes.

        

A Month For Celebration

           

            On the first week of March, many public libraries sponsor children's programs and have birthday parties in honor of Dr. Seuss.  My eldest granddaughter celebrates her birthday the date after Dr. Seuss celebrates his.

            Stakes and wards from around the world will celebrate the anniversary of the Relief Society organization.  Some have birthday parties complete with food and programs, others offer workshops and uplifting instruction. 

            St. Patrick's Day is celebrated in honor St. Patrick, as a holy day of obligation,  and a celebration of Ireland itself. 

           

            Easter jumps around landing in either March or April.  This year it will be the last Sunday in March.

         

            Both of my brothers were born in March.  We would celebrate their birthdays each month - often individually, but sometimes together.  I remember one year we met at Patrick's house when Corey happened to be in town performing.  Roland's daughters happened to be visiting that weekend, and we took them with us.

          

            Before the party started, I mentioned that Frances also had a birthday coming up.  Both of my brothers were happy to hear of it, and attempted to take the attention of themselves and give it to Frances.  That's actually all that I remember.  

           

            This year Ellen gave birth to her oldest.  He shares his birthday with my brother (his grandfather)

        

            Yesterday was my cousin, Michelle's birthday. 

           

            Today Frances turns 22.  Happy Birthday wherever you are.

according to Frances' mom, [Frances] is
the one who painted this in May of 2009

Mending the Broken

          Yesterday morning was overly dark.  It was cold and raining.  It mirrored the emotions of my heart

          I had heard a quote from a TV show that got me thinking.  The quote was something to the affect of, "sometimes things get broken and sometimes broken things just can't be fixed"

                    There is a number of tangible items that have had to be discarded as they have either gone beyond repair or just don't seem worth the effort.  How blessed we are that we are God's children and are worth the effort of not being broken - though for many of us some trials have made us question our worth.

          Earlier in December, my eldest daughter-in-law chose to not only defriend me on facebook, but block her account as well.  Less than two weeks later, she sent a friend request along with a mountain of apologies and excuses.  She said that her new meds were to blame and made the promise that she'd never again unfriend me. 

          I did believe in her apology for her flippant behavior.  But even before she and Biff wed, she seemed to have a personality that could turn from hot to cold within the manner of seconds.  I'll admit, I do not know her very well,  but I do see her as having unstable behavior.  At least she is seeing a therapist or psychiatrist of some kind - unlike Roland's ex who refused to go back to anyone who may offer any criticism or not agree with her every word.  At least she is trying - or so I'm told.

          I accepted her friendship request knowing full well that I may be blocked again sometime in the future.  The future has arrived.  Not only has she blocked herself, but managed to block Biff as well.  How dare she. 

          Thus far there hasn't been a response to the texts or voicemails that I left for Biff.  If she managed to take his phone away, I don't know how to communicate with him - unless he lets us know how we can make contact with him.

          Before she removed us from her account,  Biff called to explain about his latest - but unfortunately familiar predicament.  We have two granddaughters who were born in August.  They share a month, and Jeanie can't stand that her daughter has the same birth month as her cousin.  They are two weeks apart  and her claim is that everybody in the family loves Devin more than her Ali.  According to her, nobody in Biff's entire family has showed support (which is so not true - or it's been because of Jeanie's incredible mood swings and nothing to do with Ali herself.  Talk about stepping on egg shells - egg shells with rattle snakes in them!)

          I don't know how many times I've been down this road of emotional turmoil and flippant behavior.  I was so hurt and distraught in December.  But this time, in addition to the hurt and heartache,  there is anger.  I have been down this road with Roland dealing with his deranged ex.  I had another unstable friend who displayed childish behavior with her defriending and blocking and changing her mind again until finally I said, "You know what?  I've had enough!"

          Jeanie's behavior is so identical to Roland's ex and to Hitler and Satan.  We don't know our own granddaughter and probably never will just as Roland and I don't know  Francis or Pamprin.  Their mom has used them as leverage to manipulate and control others.  Jeanie is doing the exact same thing with Ali.  Alienating Biff from the family (or at least trying to) and Ali from Biff.

          Both women are cookie cutter molds out of the Grimm's fairytales where there is no hero - only a large fire breathing dragon who has that time of the month all month long - except for that occasional few minutes of remorse.  But it doesn't last.  Sybil goes away and another personality takes over.

          Through God's mercy today's trials can become tomorrow's testimony - should I allow for that.  Right now this part of me feels broken - a part that cannot/will not be fixed.  Not in this lifetime anyway.  I hope I'm wrong.  I hope I live to see Roland's girls and my granddaughter Ali and I hope that their moms' issues may be resolved.  But as of now, I need to put all these negative emotions behind me and allow my focus to be elsewhere.    I would like this heavy weight lifted while I'm still on earth and of sound mind.  My time isn't God's time.  In my mind, it's already been too long.

          If we still lived in Salt Lake, I predict our situation would be worse than just facebook.  I know I would see Devin at least twice a week - more often than Ester and Ali put together.  Not because I'd choose it that way, but because I am actually a priority for Carrie and Randy and have been with all three of my boys.  But I'm not a priority for my other two daughters-in-law - or at least that is how I feel.  Jeanie has had interfering health and Rochelle seems to be afraid of forming bonds or just prefers spending time with her family and childhood ward members. 

           The healing between Jeanie and I is going to be long and slow if at all. 

The Highway to Hell is Paved With Good Intentions

     There are some months when I seem to be full of ideas and others when my mind is a blank - or I'm just not motivated.  My blog posts become feast or famine (at least in my mind) but unfortunately some of my ideas don't get written out - or they just don't seem so important once I see them on screen.  Or else I just haven't come up with the right words STILL

            I often experience times of frustration - like when I hit a key that somehow changes the placement - and I feel helpless at not being able to change it back. On January 21, I posted an entry called "Judge not " I don't know what buttons I pushed to bring it to March 13 - but there you have it . . . again.  And yet, maybe somebody needed that post to land at the top because perhaps there is some hidden message that might speak to them that maybe they wouldn't have waded through otherwise.  I'm rationalizing . . .

         We came out to Oregon on spring break last year.  I thought we would take this year's spring break to return to Utah for a visit.  But our finances upset that plan.
          We should be in Utah right now.  The plan was to leave Oregon yesterday and arrive in Utah today.   Roland never did ask for the time off.  On the bright side, we won't be spending Easter traveling in the car (we wouldn't have been able to spend it in Utah)

          I had chosen March 19 to March 28  as Jenna is off from school.  Instead of spending time with family members,  Jenna and I will be packing boxes in hopes that we will seriously be closing on our house this week (or maybe right after she returns to school)  Roland  wants to be ready to go the day that we close.  I think we can take our time,   however.  We have yet to give our thirty day notice to those that we rent from.

        Not looking forward to moving again.  But I am looking forward to taking a bath (the house we are in does not have a tub) and a few other perks that we may have.  Mostly hoping that we can see a lower cost in living.  Then perhaps we can save up some money and return to Utah for a visit.

The Food is Spectacular - Better than its Unnecessary Punctuation

            We haven't been here for even a year, and have already seen drastic makeovers.  Dairy Queen/Tommy's from this post

           Another restaurant change has been the recent transformation of Patty Ann's.  

           Sadly this restaurant closed just shortly before or after we arrived.

             Patty Ann's was a landmark in my mind.  We would stop and take pictures with the boat or building or picnic benches.

            At the beginning of the year the signs came down.  The benches disappeared.  New signs went up.  Mid Town Grill.

notice the apostrophe in TACO'S

            Yesterday Rolland decided he wanted to leave the house to take his lunch.  So we went to Mid Town Grill which recently opened.  I don't know how it compares with Patty Ann's as I'd never eaten Patty Ann's food before.  The Mid Town Grill food was delicious.   I can't imagine that Patty Ann's tasted better, really.  Though I had heard that the food there was good and the prices looked reasonable from my point of view.

            They advertise a four time winning clam chowder.  They are not kidding.  It is definitely the best clam chowder that I've ever had.  All of their food was good.  I had ordered Baja tacos and Roland ordered the fish and chips.  I traded one of my tacos for one of his breaded fish.  Everything was so yummy.

            So if you're ever in Myrtle Creek, you will no longer be able to see the boat from Old Pacific (or Highway 99) but you will see the sign from above 

            If you want home cooked food, I promise that your pallet will be pleased.

Did You Think To Pray?

            Jenna left the house at 5:15 on Wednesday.  I told her she could stay out for an hour and gave her my phone so that she would have it when the alarm went off. 

            She returned home at 5:30 and I told her she could continue to play for 15 more minutes.  Not even two minutes passed before I heard her wailing. Had we been prepared for disaster, both of us would have made certain she had stayed in.

            It happened so quickly, she's uncertain of just how it happened.  evidently she took some kind of fall on her bike in which her mouth was gruffly introduced to the asphalt at high speed.  She came in the house with her mouth bleeding.  Roland and I both thought that the tooth had broken.

            I gave her a wet cloth to hold over her mouth.  She was crying, coughing, disheartened with the sudden events that disrupted our plans for taking her to the church. 

            Roland was immediately on the phone in hopes to find an emergency dentist while I said a prayer.  I felt inspired to take her to the activity anyway.  But Roland seemed more interested on relying on his own instinct. 

            I called a counselor in the young women's to explain or situation and let her know that Jenna would not be attending.  I then called her "Ma" to ask if she knew of any dentists in the stake.  I left a message on the voicemail of the first one.  I did get a hold of the second dentist - who sounded a bit put off by my questions.

            By the time the blood stopped, the damage didn't appear to be as bad as we had suspected.  Her right front tooth was pushed out of alignment.  Actually, it appears that her lip got the worst of it. As I was explaining this to the dentist, he indicated that nothing could be done about the tooth itself right then, but that I could meet with him the next morning.  Meanwhile he recommended IB Profin and Tylenol.

            Roland frantically continued to call numbers for dental and the insurance company while I was making calls to ward and stake members for assistance.  At least I was talking to actual humans and not just copying down numbers given by a machine.

            Roland was finally contacted by someone on the other end of the supposed emergency number.  Roland gave a similar description as I had with the dentist in Roseburg - but the caller at Roland's end was actually able to call in a prescription for antibiotics for Jenna to take in the meantime.

            While Roland was out picking up Jenna's prescription, I received a phone call from the first dentist I had tried contact.  He was calling from the stake center in Roseburg - where Jenna would have been if we had gone with my initial thought - the one that I'm guessing God must have planted.  She had already missed the activity by the time Roland had returned - or would have by the time he got her to Roseburg.

            I sent an email to all of her teachers to let them know that Jenna would be staying home yesterday - hoping we'd be able to get her into the dentist.  She was actually upset with us for having made her miss school.  I was willing to take her in late as the soonest that we get her into the dentist was 10:20, but Roland said it wouldn't be worth having her go for less than two hours just to check her out again. 

            All of the staff was impressed with how well Jenna handled herself.  I too am pleased with her  overall behavior.  She didn't try to milk it.  She was very brave about having the dentist touching sensitive parts inside of her mouth.  The dentist put on a temporary brace and explained that the root may heal and not be disjointed after all.  But there's also a chance that her tooth could start to darken, in which she'll have to have a root canal

            Jenna no longer has the perfect teeth she did 18 months ago.  I don't know if I've ever had perfect teeth.  I had chipped my front tooth when I played on the monkey bars.  Same blood.  Same drama.  I lived with a chipped tooth for many years.  Before my mission, my dentist sawed my two front teeth away and gave me porcelain ones.  I cried when he let me look in the mirror. 

            Jenna has had quite a healthy attitude.  He philosophy:  "God is good, and he'll help me through this . . . so why should I worry?" 

            Good for her!

Egg Yolks

            From the time she was a baby, Jenna has never liked egg yolks.  I had attempted to give them to her between the ages 6 months and a year.  I would scramble the yolk, hard boil it, fry it, poach it - it didn't matter what I did with it, she didn't enjoy eating it.

            My son Biff doesn't eat egg yolks either - I think just because he's health conscience.  He used to give me his egg yolks - which for the most part we would use as an ingredient in cakes or cookies.

            When I introduced Jenna to the egg white, she was fine with it.  Eventually she learned to like scrambled eggs (even with the yolk - though white is preferable)

and even hard cooked eggs.  At first without the yolks - but now she'll actually eat the yolk.  But it's got to be the right shade of yellow. 

We do well at sharing fried eggs.  She will eat all the white, and I will dip my toast in the yolks.  (Of course I always enjoy the most fattening part)

            Her favorite sandwich to order at subway is the bacon, egg and cheese on flatbread.  She thinks it's awesome when she can order egg white only.

            I LOVE deviled eggs.  She won't even touch them. 

Not even these darling Easter egg chicks.

            Roland made some meringue earlier this week.  Yesterday I decided to make a custard.  I should have taken a picture.  I didn't realize what pigs Roland and I would be over it.  I'll have to make again as it was delicious.

 Jenna missed out. 

There was a time when we were in Arizona and my brother-in-law was fixing breakfast for everyone.  He asked me how I liked my eggs.  I told him "as an ingredient inside of a doughnut"

He thought I was kidding.

I wasn't.

Enjoy the Journey

        I don't recall how many vacations we may have taken when somebody in the car called, "Are we there yet?"

        I give my parents credit for livening up the journey for us - allowing us to enjoy the traveling part - well, as much as can be expected.  Our car problems were never a part of the plan - in fact it actually deferred us more than once.  After a while, though we still couldn't plan for whatever car problem might occur, we learned to roll with the punches.  No family vacation was complete without car problems and/or rain.

        I wasn't able to go to Yellowstone with my family the year that car broke down 18 miles outside of Pocatello, Idaho. My mom and sister left my brother, Corey, and my dad in the car while attempting to walk to the next town on foot.  Back in the day when we just had road maps to go by.  No GPSs to let one know the upcoming mileage or nearest service station.

        As with ALL vacations that we took, prayer has always played an important role. Before long, they were picked up by couple who opted to spend the next three hours with my family. This is how Corey remembers it:

 None of us knew how to get the car working again.  Dad was in no shape to walk and we felt one of us should stay with him.  It was also decided that I should be with the car in case I was able to get it started again. I do remember feeling bad that I was essentially making the two women walk into town.  Mom and [Kayla] decided to walk however far they needed to walk to get to town.  Before they ventured off, I suggested we say a prayer that we would get to Pocatello somehow.  I remember as Mom and [Kayla] walked off, I felt helpless in this car that wouldn't start with my ailing father watching my sister and mother walk away. 

"Mom and Kayla hadn't gotten too far (maybe two or three city blocks; I remember they were still in sight) when a car pulled over and asked them if they needed help.  They picked them up and backed up to our car and then maneuvered behind us and pushed us to the next town.  There [had been] only one lane of traffic at one point, so there were a whole bunch of cars behind us. 

"Once they pushed us into town they pushed us to a repair shop and then they took Mom to Pocatello to get the part and then drove her back and did the repair.  The man and his wife spent a good portion of their day with us and they really went the extra mile.  Because of them, we did eventually get to Pocatello just as we prayed for."

        There was there was one time when the tire flattened or the rim had broken, forcing us to turn around and drive back to a town we knew was there as opposed to uncertainty of how many miles ahead.  We spent more than an hour in Mojave - which put us behind.  Sure, mom may have rolled her eyes, but we were able to deal with it.  I think we played a game to pass the time.

        We also broke down near Beaver, Utah.  A tow truck took our car to Beaver.  We were really impressed with the mechanic and would have liked for him to be able to service our car all the time - but that was not realistic.

        A rollover on the road prevented us from getting to Corey's college graduation on time.  It had been a really long day.  My niece took a nap in the car, but became cranky before we arrived to Ephraim.  My sister, Kayla, and our niece, Ellen and I were dropped off at a park while the rest continued on to Snow College.  I wasn't sorry I had missed Corey's graduation.  I know Kayla, Ellen and I enjoyed the park more than we would have the graduation ceremony - particularly Ellen who probably would not have allowed either of her parents to focus on the ceremony either had we gone.

        Many vacations are often better planned than is life itself.  Often what we strive for or believe will be the end result doesn't necessarily work out to our expectations - which isn't always a bad thing - perhaps, for some, it turns out to be a better thing.  Definitely a different thing.  And there are some who feel they've wasted time preparing for something that never came to pass while others simply enjoy the journey and are grateful for the experiences that sent them to the path that they are on now.  They continue to learn and to enjoy their journey - always moving forward - even if they don't always see what's up ahead.

        It took the Willy & Martin handcart companies  111 days to reach the Salt Lake valley. That was close to the number of days  it also took Brigham Young and the first Latter Day Saint settlers to reach the Salt Lake valley as well! 

        Between 1856 and 1860, nearly 3,000 emigrant members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints joined ten handcart companies--about 650 handcarts total--and walked to Utah from Iowa City, Iowa, (a distance of 1,300 miles) or from Florence, Nebraska (1,030 miles). This journey or “Trek” took them about 111 days to complete.

        Many of the handcart pioneers were foreigners who had sold their homes and possessions for money to get passage on a long boat trip from European countries to be gathered with the saints in Zion. When they arrived in America, they had so little that they could not afford wagons, teams, and provisions to make the long journey to the Salt Lake valley. Then they were advised to leave behind everything they did own except for the few essential items necessary for their trek across the plains and mountains to Zion. These “pioneers” knew that they faced many dangers and hardships, even death along the way. Yet, they chose to do it! What POWER could cause so many people to undertake such a challenging and dangerous trek?

        Jenna has two weeks left of primary.  The week after Conference, she will be attending Young Women instead of going to singing/sharing time with the entire primary.  We've already started attending the Trek themed firesides and activities geared to the youth.

        On Sunday we went to the stake center in the big city of Roseburg, where she had the opportunity of meeting her new Ma and Pa.  It was the start of their 111 day challenge. One stake, six wards, 17 families, 161 youth (and counting) - half are (or will be) 12 years of age.  Jenna said there was only one in her group who has done the trek before and it wasn't Ma or Pa.

        Each youth was given a packet that outlines each week from April 13, 2016 to July 1 when the group returns from their four-day pioneer experience.  Tomorrow night she will return to the stake center for another activity.  Next week will be her last opportunity for attending Achievement Days for primary as she will be attending the young women's every week after that.

        “What a story it is. It is filled with suffering and hunger and cold and death. It is replete with accounts of freezing rivers that had to be waded through; of howling blizzards; of the long, slow t forgotten. But hopefully it will be told again and again to remind future generations of the suffering and the faith of those who came before. Their faith is our inheritance. Their faith is a reminder to us of the price they paid for the comforts we enjoy.” - Gordon B. Hinckley

        I hope that Jenna understands this opportunity she has and will be as excited as I am for her.  I hope that when she returns home from her activity tomorrow that she will have more enthusiasm than "being forced to go" and that she will look forward to the day that she will reenact (among others) the journey of our pioneer ancestors (if even only a small part) and that she may enjoy the journey she is currently taking in getting there.  I hope that all the youth do.

Judge Not That Ye Be Not Judged

  My dad was a man of few words.  He did not share much of himself with anyone - including his own children.  So when he did share experiences with us - particularly about his past - it was indeed a rare treasure.  Although I may have not appreciated it at the time, I now realize what a treasure it truly was.

       We were having a family home evening lesson - I'm thinking on judgement.  I remember him sharing an example from his past.  He said that there was a boy in his class who was not all that nice, one that had the reputation of a bully.  Someone whose personality clashed with everybody.  My dad was no exception.  He said though he had tried, he just didn't like the guy.

       One day the teacher had given the class an exam.  My dad said his arm was in a cast at the time, and he wasn't able to write the answers in the given amount of time.  When the instructor called "time" dad's paper was only half complete.

       I don't know if my dad would have said anything on his own.  The classroom "bully" pointed out to the teacher that "Gary can't write the answers.  It isn't fair."

       He then volunteered to take my dad aside and write down the answers as my dad would say verbally.  Dad said that ever since that time, he was able to look at people with new eyes and realize that probably everyone has some good in him.

       probably a few years after dad had share this story, I had a similar thing happen to me.

       Jeff seemed to have an obnoxious personality in my opinion.  He was quite popular, but overall not my favorite person.  I seemed to face low self-esteem.  I was quite friendless at school and really didn't enjoy being there. 

       My mom had called the school psychologist in hopes that he could help mend my situation.  Everybody knew that those that went to the school psychologist had issues.  Those kids were made fun of.  Way to go, mom!

       I remember a time when my teacher told me that it was time for me to go to the psychologist office.  Most of the class had gone out for recess or gone to lunch or whatever, but I do remember hearing Jeff ask when he would get to go.  I didn't hear the teacher's response.  I was mortified. 

       My situation did change, but it wasn't directly because of the school psychologist.  Ironically, I give Jeff the credit for smoothing out the bumps in my road.  I don't think I connected the dots until much later in my life, but it was after he had asked the question that he and a few of his buddies started paying attention to me and befriending me and teasing me about which of the three I would like to go steady with.  They made being at school a lot more bearable.

        I never told Jeff how much I appreciated that.  I don't think I made the connection until many years later - when I didn't have contact with him anymore - not that we ever did have intimate contact.  He may not even remember the situation.  I'm certain that it was a lot more meaningful to me - especially since it was someone I hadn't even liked that had helped me.

       I think there are lots of situations in which many are "saved" by someone that they either hadn't liked or maybe feared.  Perhaps we ought to find a new perspective in others before we need saving.  Just a thought.