Thought That Counts

                I serve in the primary at my church.  I also do (and have done) things for the Relief Society, though I often forget as I feel as if my contact with the RS is so rare if at all.  The other day the presidency stopped by to give me a gift and card.  While I appreciated the hugs and the card and the sentiment of the gift, it was a plant that I am allergic to. 

                I took the Poinsettia to my friend Carolyn.  She was happy to receive it as she had no other Christmas decorations.  Happy that it has benefited us both.  Thank you RS for thinking of me. 

A Mother's Day talk for Christmas

            In November of 2016, I felt impressed to write a talk about Mother's Day.  I started my research and played around with different ideas.  May came and went and I wasn't asked to talk.  In fact, there was little mention about it even being Mother's Day.  The first speaker truly loves Mother's Day and I think must have desired for a Mother's Day program.  She expressed her gratitude for Mother's Day and then went into her talk which had nothing to do with Mother's Day at all.

            Perhaps the Bishop had changed the theme to spare the feelings of oh, so many who despise the holidays as it may trigger reminders of estranged relationships, imperfect relationships, non-existing relationships, or discomfort.  I realize that not everybody loves Mother's Day.  I know of several women who refuse to attend meetings on that day because of painful reminders or words mentioned that tend stir up negative emotion.

          Ann Maria Reeves Jarvis provided nurturing by setting up work clubs to improve health and sanitation in various towns in Virginia.  Despite her personal tragedies, Ann Marie never stopped her community service.  Upon her death, her daughter, Anna, received a great deal of cards and expression from the community about the great feats provided by not only Ann Jarvis but the community as well.  They provided nurturing.

https://www.today.com/parents/meet-anna-jarvis-founder-fighter-mother-s-day-t110796

            Anna envisioned Mother's Day as a celebration of the home and all that your mother did for you. "On the second Sunday in May of 1907, Anna held a small memorial service for her mother at Andrews Methodist Episcopal Church in Grafton, Va. The mourners present received a white carnation, which had been Ann Marie's favorite flower. Anna organized another one a year later, and this service is generally accepted as the first official Mother's Day event." This holiday was designed not only to honor the mother of Anna Jarvis, but the women of the community as well.  It was more than just about motherhood.  It was designed to honor nurturing.

            If I were to talk just about my own Mother, I could easily fill an entire meeting with stories and examples, but I know that all mothers are not like my mother nor are all relationships like the one that my sibs and I have and have had with my mother.  I know that there are many who do not honor their mothers or feel honored by their own children.  I know many woman who are not mothers and most likely will not be during this lifetime.  Why should they be made to sit through a meeting honoring something that they don't feel they'll ever be?

            I was raised in a fairly new neighborhood.  On our street there were at least 30 houses at the top half where I lived, and although not all houses had children living at there,  there had to have been 50 - 60 kids just on the top half of our street.  At that time it was the norm for the mom to stay home and take care of the children while dad was at work.  We fit the 60's stereotype in which the man was the bread winner and would take the garbage to the curb and the mother would stay home, bake bread and cookies, rear her children, and was always pregnant. I remember having known only one mother who worked outside of the home.  The rest of the mothers in the neighborhood seemed to have a hand in raising all the children.

            Each of them had a similar method for nurturing yet many of them varied in how they disciplined and the manner of tone in their voices.  I came to know many mothers when I was young.  Each tried to raise her kids in a similar manner and yet all were different.  Each had come from a background different from my own mother's.

            Take our neighbor across the street, for instance.  She had four boys at the time.  Each time a new son was born, she would talk to him and praise the baby's older brother which allowed the older brother understand how important and valued he was though the baby may have required more attention at given times.

            Peggy had been raised in American Fork with a family who was very active in church and had learned all domestic ways of life.  My own mom had been raised in San Francisco with very inactive church attendees.  Her mom and dad had divorced when she was thirteen.  She became a latch key kid and she took charge of helping her mom with nurturing her brothers.

            I don't know how old I was when I learned that Peggy despised Mother's Day.  I was shocked.  How could anybody possibly hate Mother's Day? I LOVED Mother's Day.  It was an opportunity to spend time with dad as he took my brother and I shopping to find a gift for mom and grandma.  On Sunday, the primary was able to participate in sacrament meeting when we sang to all of our mothers.  I didn't fully understand the reason behind the holiday, but I thought it was a cool holiday and thought it would be an even better holiday when I too became a mother. I still don't know what reasons she had to despises the holiday though I have made speculations.

           

            There are many definitions of what makes a mother.  Most definitions agree that she is a provider of affection, care, nurture, rearing children, etc.  I have never once seen a definition which makes the mother out to be perfect or says that all relationships between mother and child are perfect or that a mother's attitude is always perfect.  Mothers ARE NOT perfect.  Relationships are not perfect.  The only perfect person who ever walked this earth is our Savior, Jesus Christ.  He wasn't a mother.  And yet we have been given a metaphor of Christ being compared to a mother hen.

    

https://www.circleofhope.net/dailyprayerdeeper/2016/09/15/september-15-2016-listening-julian-norwich/

       

            In this article, we are told about the relationship between the hen and her chicks.  Christ provides nurturing and protection. People make mistakes and sometimes may not seem capable of providing nurturing, but there are so many who can.  Some who aren't even biological mothers.  Some who aren't even women. Aside from a cousin living in Salem, Roland, Jenna and I don't have biological roots in Oregon.  The ward we attend has become our family.  I have been impressed by the nurturing welcome we received from so many members.  Our friend Marva, who is currently taking the discussions, and who has set her baptismal date for December 29, has said the same thing.

            She was not raised by her own mother.  She hasn't experienced the visitations with grandma.  She has two children but has not been allowed to raise them both.  She hasn't had much exposure to nurturing but does understand its value.  We are all capable of receiving and providing some kind of nurturing.  Keep that thought the next time Mothers' Day should come around.  Value the virtue.  Honor the nurturer - whether your mom, your neighbor, or maybe someone you just read about.  It doesn't have to be a day of negative emotion.  Focus on the blessings.

           Just for the record I don't dislike Mother's Day but I certainly don't love it.  Sometimes it will fall on the same date as my oldest son.  I would rather celebrate his birthday than Mother's Day. [Type Mother's Day in the box in the top left hand corner next to the B in the orange box.  That may give you more insight about tolerating Mother's Day]

Teach, Not Read - Especially NOT in Monotone!

                As an accountant major, I am required to take 25 accounting classes

                Thus far I have had 22 classes, 11 instructors -

                                one of them four times.  Two of them three times.        

                                Three of them two times and six of them only once. 

There are three who have had flair for making accounting better than completely boring. 

                On Monday I started accounting class #23.  

New instructor.  

BORING,  

omigosh

I could not attend his live lecture and have decided 

even if I am present to view the live lecture

it AIN'T going to happen.

He READS the power point.  

READS EVERYTHING word for word.  

What kind of teaching is that?

Throw yourself into the lecture. 

Tell me something about yourself that might relate to the slide.

omigosh!

                I have two classes and had put in 5 1/2 hours for substitute teacher aide

                I watched the recordings when I returned.

                The instructor of my management class has a thick British accent.

Easy to listen to.  But my accounting instructor . . . .

                Roland was in the other room, and he got 

bored just hearing the sounds. 

My instructor might as well have said:

                Boring.  There are many variations to boring.  

Accounting doesn't have to be boring.  

But let's just say that it is.

                And just in case you weren't already bored with it, 

let me make it extra boring by reading each slide as though 

you are not able to read or comprehend it yourself.

                Listen to my voice. Is it soothing (not really) 

Let me tell you word for word what every slide says

Be sure to save this recording in the event that you are ever experiencing insomnia.

omigosh!  Four weeks - one more down and two to go.  

I cannot wait until June 2019! 

It will come quick, I'll bet.

Spirit Touched Me Again and made it Hard to Sing

     I remember one Mother's Day when the primary children were on the stage singing various songs.  One was LoveIs Spoken Here, a song that is done in two parts.  After the primary children finished up with the first verse, the members of the priesthood stood up and sang the second part.  It touched my heart and my eyes started leaking.  It was so awesome hearing them sing together.  I wondered if I would ever be awed like that again. 

 

          Today, toward the end of the program, the audience was asked to sing the second part of A Child's Prayer.  I thought the request was a bit odd as it doesn't even seem that the majority of the congregation would even know it.  And as our chorister was having such a hard time with teaching the song, how did the leaders think it was possibly going to connect?

 

          Last week the RS, Priesthood, YM/YW all met together to receive instructions on the Come Follow Me program that we'll be using in just a couple of weeks.  In addition they took time out to learn the second verse of the song.  It was truly inspiring to listen to them sing to us and have us sing together.  Anne stood directly in front of me.  It's a wonder I was able to see her mouth drop as she was also amazed with the awesome performance.  I wish I could have gaped in astoundment rather than fight to get the words out as if I don't have enough challenges at providing a pleasant singing voice.

 

          The next song was Called to Serve which does not invite the tears.  It is vibrant and calls for happy authority.  I remember singing it when I was on my mission.  The chorister used all kinds of words associated with music - which I'm certain the musically gifted would understand, but there were several of the missionaries that had no clue as to the meaning of the words.  I remember mocking back her use of "crescendo" and seeing some Elders laugh about it because they probably didn't understand the word either. So it really is a memory without tears, but my eyes were still wet from A Child's Prayer. 

 

           The last song that we sang was The Church of Jesus Christ, which stirred up personal meaning as well - I think of it as Jenna's song and had shared my reasons with the primary during our practice.  When I was pregnant with her, Corey had asked to feel my belly and movement inside.  I told her he would have to sing to her.  He picked some Broadway hit, I don't even recall what it was.  Jenna did not move.

 

          "Try a primary song," I said.

 

          He started singing, "I Belong to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints."

         

          She stirred at the sound of his voice.

 

          Several months later I was in the hospital because my water had broke.  I don't know how many hours had gone by before the nurse suggested we sing something to coax her out.  We picked that same children's song.  I think four of us were singing to her - including the nurse, and I thought that was really special.  I don't think it worked.  A different nurse was with me several hours later when Jenna finally decided to make her debut - though it still wasn't her idea to come out.  She was ticked and let everybody in the hospital know about it.

          Jenna has had some moments during her life - especially when she was young and colicky - that she has not been a happy camper, but overall I have been blessed with a daughter who smiles and loves life and is overall happy.  What a great quality!

          The Spirit has definitely touched me today.

Christmas, Primary, Theatre and other thoughts

          The ward Christmas dinner is tonight - it's going on right now, actually.  And so is the light parade - which I will be missing this year - am missing.  It's barely past 6:00 and I am hearing fireworks - are you kidding me?  Why so early?  I suppose the answer to that would be because we have more hours of fog than we have seen - this being our forth Christmas in Myrtle Creek. 

                It's been so dry, only a few days of rain,  and the fog lingers so much longer than I have ever seen.  Sometimes we have a couple of hours of sun but once it goes down (quite early by the way) the fog makes its way back.  I think there may pieces of smog mixed up in it.  Perhaps that is why it lingers.  It doesn't look as clean as it used to. Anyway, I guess if they don't set the fireworks off right now, they won't be able to see them.  Fog is already starting to thicken.  We'll most likely be covered by 8:00.

                The ward dinner is being held at the Grange this year.  That is where it was held last year.  I thought it was tight - like on conference when they pack us in tight like sardines.  I didn't wish to deal with that this year - though I enjoyed seeing the light parade with my ward friends last year at the Grange.  I was hoping to see it from Riddle this year, but something disagreed with me this morning and so I have not left the house all day.

                Tomorrow is the primary program.  I don't recall ever having a primary program in December before.  Holy Cow.  We haven't had to prepare lessons for the last two weeks due to practice nor do we have to have one for tomorrow as the stake leaders have promised treats for the primary and they will be watching a movie (possibly Daniel and the Lion's Den?) while eating ice cream.  I remember how overly crowded it felt in primary last year - with no clue as to why.  We have a small primary.  Those who come to see the kiddos perform need to be sitting on the right side of the chapel.  The pulpit will block the view for anyone sitting in the middle.

                There are a few of us that purposely do not sit in the middle due to weird lighting.  It seriously hurts my eyes to try and look at the speaker from the middle section.  Roland and Jenna have a performance tonight at the local theatre.  I took my friends to the dress rehearsal. They enjoyed the first half of the play but didn't seem as spirited during the second half.  I don't know if it's because it was late or if they thought it was lame humor.  I think they needed to shorten it by cutting out a few of the acts. 

                Looking forward to the "Come Follow Me"outline for the next four years and losing an hour of primary. 

Let's Get Rid of Random Already!

               

            City noises are very different from the sounds in the country.  I definitely wasn't raised in the country, but it wasn't a part of the city during the 60's either.  Mom may have thought as our newly developed neighborhood as "hick country" as even the busiest part of SLC was nothing like the quietest part of San Francisco (was there ever a quiet place in San Francisco) but I called it a town.

            We lived far enough from the city that we were not really a part of it, but close enough that we could drive to various places.  There was a 7-11 within walking distance.  It was built before any business was open 24 hours a day.  7-11 hours were from 7 in the morning until 11 at night.  I don't recall any restaurants or other establishments to walk to other than the corner gas station - but there wasn't a convenient store connected to it, so what would have been the point?

            I don't recall any specific sounds from my early childhood.  Sometimes I would hear trains in the distance or hear planes flying overhead.  Gradually the city built its way up around our little neighborhood until it was eventually swallowed up in the mass.  There were 30 - 40 food places within walking distance after I had graduated high school.  The sounds were provided by traffic flow, often barking dogs - perhaps something else.  I really don't remember.

            I had heard animal sounds (other than dogs) at Wheeler Farm.  We lived far enough that I didn't hear them constantly -  I knew roosters crowed.  I thought it was a morning thing - to let everyone know the sun was up - or what have you.  I didn't know roosters crowed ALL DAY LONG!!

In our first house in Oregon, we would often hear goats bleating and a rooster crow.  We called the rooster Random as he would go off at various times of the day.  There didn't seem to be a pattern.  We have been in our second house for almost two years now.  I don't know how long the rooster has been around, but Jenna is always first to hear it.  He'll go off at 2:00 or 3:00 in the morning.  What is up with that?

            At first I thought he might be boasting, "Oh, yea.  I just had myself another hen . . ." but just before it rained, Random was crowing like he had gone loco and WOULD NOT SHUT UP.  But again, maybe that's normal.  I don't know roosters.  Until I moved here, I hadn't heard the constant echo of their sounds.  I don't know how many roosters may live in our neighborhood.  It sounds like only one, but to my ears, he has definitely got a problem.  Perhaps to the average country folk, the sound is normal.  But I don't like it.  Put Random and my family out of his/our misery already and make some rooster stew!

150 Words More To Go

The topic for this mod's final assessment is

to write 1000 to 1250 words on the topic:

major disclosure and conceptual objectives of 

consolidated financial statements. 

How in the world does is an instructor able

to get through 15 - 30 assessments. 

The topic alone - let alone an entire paper

- is enough to put me to sleep. 

I know that there are instructors who might

not even read the paper, just

scan through it, make certain that

everything meets APA standards -

does not seem to matter what the

contents are.  I hate that!  What

difference does my APA paper make if

I don't understand the material I'm

supposed to write about?!

My current instructor doesn't seem

like a stickler about keeping the

paper in third person and boring.  Thus I

am keeping it in first person - unless he

says otherwise.  The lecture is at 10:30.  Hopefully

there will be enough insight that I

will be able to come up with at least

100 more words.

Almost There

I heard this for the first time last year.  I think it is my new favorite Christmas song.  

Rain and Cold

                It has rained the last three days

which is a good thing. 

            Put that water back

into the beds and

cover the earth until

            it's green again and

the rivers are flowing and

            not just puddles. 

I am usually hot on

            the inside when it is

raining outside, though

            I don't know why. 

But the last three days have

been cold. 

Salt Lake's November cold. 

            I think it should be warmer.

It is nice to

have the rain.

I Would Rather Hear It Fresh

            I have mentioned before that both my mom used to  use her children as her sounding board before giving a talk or presenting a lesson.  For my mom, it was a lack of confidence in herself.  She needed the feedback, the practice, the input to build up her confidence.  She yearned for ideas on how to improve.  She would go over it again and again until we knew it better than she did - or at least in the case of Corey and me.

            Roland does the same thing - only he does not lack confidence.  I thought he did it for validation - but he says it is because he values my opinion.  Talks and lessons are one thing, but lately his ideas and thoughts have had to do with his participation at the theatre.  I am not in the theatre.  I am not part owner in the theatre.  I don't manage, perform or have any input with the owners.  I know my personal preference varies with theirs and certainly with Roland's. 

            It isn't his job to write the skit, but he was asked to emcee and somehow feels obligated to contribute more.  He'd like to do a "Burns & Allen" type skit while reading a story to a seagull puppet.  I suppose my input was helpful as Roland's first choice of story was out of the Bible and suggested he change it to "Twas the Night Before Christmas" as it is a familiar one, and cracking jokes (even a childish innocence) after every other line would go over better with the audience than offending several audience members with lines like "Why did the wisemen bring gold and frankenstien and not diapers?" or "espoused wife?  you mean they weren't even married?"  and gear his jokes toward Santa Clause and the reindeer.

            Some of the jokes were funny.  I smiled at a few of them, but never laughed out loud.  I certainly wasn't providing a belly laugh that I suspect Roland was looking for.  Jenna provides more sincere laughter, and is able to re-laugh at a joke she's heard before - but each time he tells the same joke, I give a weak smile and sometimes roll my eyes when he isn't looking.  The freshness has worn off for me.  Though he is proud of his contribution and shares the praises and compliments he's received for creating laughter, it has gotten stale.  I don't even smile anymore.

            When Corey and I give talks, we practice on ourselves.  It's rare for each of us to call on another to sit through something that he or she will be sitting through in church or elsewhere.  We want it to be fresh for them just as we would like to hear it fresh.  Neither way is wrong or right.  They are just different is all.   

Christmas Makeover

            At no time of the year do I believe in Disney's Toy Story than between Thanksgiving and Christmas - although it isn't so much the toys that move and form personalities, but rather the Christmas decorations that I am certain I had packed and carefully labeled each box.  I know exactly where they were located in January - the beginning of the year.  But by the end of the year, I notice that the decorations have moved around.  They have managed to move from box to box, shelf to shelf and all figure that it's been so long that I won't remember where I had put them in the first place.

            As I mentioned in an earlier post, Jenna had retrieved four boxes of decorations - yet I knew that a whole slew of ornaments were missing, and Christmas socks and . . .  lights.  Where are the lights?  And how is it that lights always manage to tangle themselves no matter how carefully they are put away?  It's a personality thing.  Lights are notorious for having parties when we aren't looking.  They dance, they play twister, and then they laugh when we open the box to pull them out.  They are definitely the most ill behaved of all Christmas decorations.

            Roland and I returned to the shed while Jenna was in school.  We found four more boxes of decorations.  Why in the world do we have eight boxes?  And where are the nativities?  I can't imagine that Joseph, Mary, baby Jesus, the wise men and shepherds would be as naughty as the light strings.  Or bows.  How are two decorative bows able to undo themselves in a box with the outside ornaments - which, by the way, Jenna insisted on putting up last night - in the dark.  Why couldn't she just wait until tomorrow when she gets home early?

            The rain came.  Still quite misty outside.  Perhaps she was smart about decorating last night.  It adds brightness.  We still have to do the inside tree.

Long Weekend

            My head seems to be disconnected from my body.  Pretty much the entire week I didn't remember what I was supposed to be doing. Jenna was off from school, Roland took off work, but I still had school.

            It rained on Wednesday. It was great as we have needed (and continue to need) the moisture. My class instructor was late getting started on the live lecture. When he finally did get to the topic of conversation, I had to leave before he got into the meat of the assignment.

            Jenna and I had hair appointments.  I normally appreciate the feel and look of my new fresh cut hair, but am having problems with not hating it this time around.

            On Thanksgiving day we went to the Grand Victorian for a potluck combination Thanksgiving dinner/cast party.  I think there were 18-20 people who finally showed up after the designated time.  Roland seemed to know many along with Jenna.  I knew of six - including myself.  For the most part my Thanksgiving was spent in the company of strangers - one in particular who was stranger than the rest.

            I don't know why she showed up at the theatre.  The owner said that it was a private party, but his wife offered to make her a dinner to go even though Roland thought she should stay.  It was in the spirit of Thanksgiving afterall.  But there were two who absolutely did not want her there - and yet she stayed - I think to get warm.  She didn't really eat anything, but just stirred different foods around her plate - and then got up for more as though she had been eating.

           She also tried to engage in conversation by blurting out experiences that weren't even relevant to what others were saying.  Jenna liked her, but the one who sat between Jenna and the intruder was one of those who definitely hadn't wanted her there.  I had moved a chair from the spot where she ended up sitting as it was in the way of those moving from one food table to the next, but Roland had her find another chair for that exact spot.  People kept asking her to move.  I don't think she fully caught on that she was literally in the way.

            The owner had started playing the movie "Sing" but stopped before auditions.  How sad.

            Roland insisted that we go shopping on Black Friday.  Of course my allergies have gone through the roof and I am paying for it today.  Why did I even agree?  I have made it no secret how I feel about shopping - especially at this time of the year.

            We got home to find Jenna in the shed hoping to have all the Christmas decorations set up in the house before we arrived. I opted not to decorate as I learned the missionaries would be coming over to continue teaching Marva and possibly Shelly. Marva called to see if we were still on, and then the missionaries called to reschedule.  Today at 2:00.  It was something we had all agreed upon. 

            Meanwhile Jenna had gotten together with her friend, Marie so that they could practice for the auditions for the Grand Victorian Christmas special.  Marie spent the night.  They laughed and had fun.  This morning they both left the house to continue practicing.  Jenna's initial plans were just to meet up with Roland at the 6:00 try-outs, but was home before noon.

             The missionaries stood us up.  Didn't even bother to make contact until after 6:00.  That's not right.  Meanwhile Shelly and Jenna opened up a gingerbread house and decided they wanted different candy.  Roland took them to the store to pick out what they wanted and Marva and I talked while they were gone.  We ate pie and Roland read a bunch of Christmas stories to us including this one.

            Just after 6:00 Marva drove to the theatre in one car and Roland in another.  She decided she would like to audition as well, but Shelly does not wish to perform on stage.   Usually I tend to feel bloated on the Friday following Thanksgiving, but my stomach did not react until about 8:00 or 9:00 p.m. last night - which I don't understand as I did not eat as much.  They definitely weren't hunger pains.  They were the same kind of pains I would imagine the wolf must have felt after the 7 kids and their mother filled his belly with rocks in this story. 

          Shelly spent the night with us.  We will be meeting her mom at church.