Climbing

 When I was younger

I was a climber

            I climbed on the furniture

did my best to scale walls

aimed for the tree tops

Climbing was a part of me

 

I may not have been the fastest runner

but I did enjoy running

playing tag and let us not forget

Climbing.

 

After my sister Kayla had come along

we learned that she was a better climber

We have at least one photograph of her

between two walls of the door frame

head near the ceiling

Mom had returned home one day to find

Kayla

 sitting on the closet door

I suppose that is not as scary

as finding me on the roof           

of the house

across the street

 

My daughter Jenna loves to climb

She used to climb on furniture

                        Don’t remember her ever scaling the walls

Mostly

she loves trees

has been climbing them

since she was tall enough

to reach branches

 

I seemed to

have stopped somewhere

along the way

as Jenna continues

She may never stop climbing

                        I hope that she doesn’t.

Reminders of Missing Poetry

            I remember loving nursery rhymes – I think because they rhymed.  Most were silly and didn’t mean much other than the rhyming words.  I tried my hand at poetry at a very young age.  Hey, my rhymes weren’t so off the wall as Mother Goose.  That must have been my first introduction to poetry.

            I remember discovering free verse and gradually introduced to limericks and haikus.  I read the Childcraft book 1 more than any of them. 

 

           Whenever the school offered book fairs or sent home scholastic brochures, I would order books that specialized in poetry.  One of my favorite was an introduction to American Poetry – I forget the title but the cover from front to back was covered in blue print of each author’s name and the title was in red and blue. My favorite poets were Carl Sandburg and Christina Rossetti.

 In time I turned to black poetry and found I loved Phillis Wheatley, Paul Laurence Dunbar and Langston Hughes – especially Langston Hughes.  I could not read enough of his poetry and would later read anything written by him or about him.

In high school I took a creative writing class and contributed to the school publication called Expressions.  I treasured those books for a long time.  I am certain that I brought them into my marriage but don’t know if they ever made it to West Valley or Oregon.  I have my doubts.  I had tried to introduce Jenna to my love of poetry, but she didn’t seem interested – although she did enjoy Dr. Seuss and loved nonsense poems. 

She is currently taking an English class which at this moment in time have poetry themed assignments.  It has triggered many memories of the poetry I used to love but somehow became bored with as it hasn’t been in my repertoire for a while now.  I don’t remember when I had stopped reading or writing.  Probably after I got married.  We’ve lived in this state for over five years.  For the first time since we’ve been in Oregon I find myself missing the collection I once had.  I would like to share some of those written by my classmates and peers – but alas, they have become part of yesteryear never to return.

Hey, I Know That Guy! We Used to Work Together

           The first meeting we had attended in our current ward happened to land on Fathers’ Day -  though I don’t recall any mention of Father’s Day whatsoever.  The two talks given seemed to focus on Social Media which I thought was a strange topic to be delivering over the pulpit on a Sunday morning. I didn’t realize that only five years later it would become a necessary tool for the missionaries.

We didn’t have social media when I was on my mission.  Facebook was out when my three boys had served their missions, but it certainly wasn’t encouraged and now the missionaries are required to have facebook accounts. We had two elders over on Saturday night and they asked if they could leave a thought before they drove away.  Their thought was on contacting others through facebook – which is what triggered the memory of our first meeting which one elder said must have been an inspired theme.

Though many churches have met as a congregation there are still a tremendous amount of people who do not attend because of age and health risks.  Thus many wards and stakes offer the option of viewing though social media.  In our ward the viewer has to belong to the ward page to click on the facebook link.  We were told that the meeting can no longer be viewed once it ends.  But I have been able to view it within an hour or so after returning home.  I think it might vanish once everyone has left the building.

Then there’s my sisters stake as well as others in the surrounding Salt Lake Valley that offer church services through YouTube.  I know my daughter-in-law had provided a three hour window before the video of the meeting was removed.  My sister hadn’t provided a time limit when she has sent videos.

There is a sacredness which could easily be desecrated by sharing on social media.  On the other hand, I also see this as a missionary tool – perhaps a stronger one than a disappearing share.  One may accidently stumble across a meeting and might find someone they know.  They may recognize my brother-in-law for example as someone they had worked with or who had taken their pictures.  That seems like it would be an effective tool for those who are curious enough to explore beyond his words and research the church and ask for the missionaries who do teach outside of the home but are able to set up virtual meetings too.

I remember having to knock on doors to find people – not the most effective way in my opinion.  Missionaries aren’t even allowed to knock on doors anymore – not even a member who has invited them over for dinner - at least in this area.  They stand outside and wait for someone to remember to open the door without the knocking reminder.

I’m grateful for the good things that can be found on social media and having it available to me.  I enjoy being able to view other wards I can’t realistically attend in person.

Assigned to Write on Current Events

 

                Jenna has three current event assignment to turn in today – or turned in rather.  She had known about the deadline on Monday but had decided to wait to see if something would happen.  Something happened alright – nothing she wanted to research however – and really how do you sum up the January sixth tragedy to just a few paragraphs?  Her other two current events consisted of Burger King changing their logo and compared hairy crabs to pumpkin lattes – funny.  But her third one was not as light but perhaps not as tragic as storming the state capitol had been on Wednesday.

            Neither of us are avid fans of reading and researching certain topics – especially if it relates to mandatory school work.  When I was doing online school the past three years I did a great deal of research on YouTube – it’s easier to watch and listen than to make sense out of something that is so often written with absolutely no tone whatsoever.  I need it to be explained to my ears and not try to decipher the language by reading it.  I pulled up this story that took place only six days ago. 

Should ex-cheerleader B.L. be suspended because of some comment she made on snapchat using the name of the high school in an unflattering way?  After all she was not even on school property when she sent it.  Does the school have a right to make an example out of her?  I think so.  Whenever a tired instructor posts something out of frustration he or she is in jeopardy of losing his or her job.  There are real cases and examples of those who have been dismissed from their jobs due to derogatory comments or language.  There are some companies that may not even hire you if you are friends with certain people who may have potty mouths or antagonistic opinions.  I learned that while going to online college.

I did not read Jenna’s report but had thought of how Trump’s tweets had gotten out of hand – and the dude doesn’t learn.  His followers don’t learned.  I wonder if B.L will learn or if her lawyer will fight in the offensive way that Baby Trump has – threatening to take each case to the Supreme Court.  So relieved to know that he still did not get his way.  He tweeted that he won’t be going to Biden’s inauguration.  Now there’s a shocker.  They’ll need to beef up on security.  I hope Biden does not plan on moving into the white house for a month or so – when the messes have been cleaned up and hopefully remains COVID free.  I would like to see Donald Trump get the help that he needs – perhaps in a galaxy far, far away.    

Gazing At Me Through Barbie Doll Shades

           Whenever Roland and I happen to be watching Game Shows together, without fail he will ask what I think about the dresses the models are wearing.

          “What do you think of that dress?”

          “I bet that dress would look good on you.”

          “Would you wear that dress?”

          I’m flattered that he believes I would be able to fit into anything that a game show model is wearing as I was not that size since college.  Overall I’m really NOT impressed with whatever.  I would be even less impressed if it did come in my size.  There are just some fashions that somebody my shape should NOT be wearing.

          “Do you like that dress?” he asked yesterday as we were watching The Price is Right.

          “I think it would be great if I had the desire to look like a disco ball. If it did come in my size I would be for shortening the sleeves and making a longer hem.”

          I rarely ever see a dress that I might wear – even at my college size.  I would not wear them as dresses though, but as tops – except for the long ones that go down past the ankle.  There was one he said I would look good in and he is always genuine about it.  I told him thanks but I thought the model looked like a wedding cake topper and if I was to wear something like that I would look like the tiered wedding cake itself and not just the topper.

          I asked Jenna for a description of how Roland views me.  She is the one who had suggested that he’s been wearing Barbie doll shades.  That seems like an appropriate description. I don’t mind wearing dresses and I do admit that I don’t have the greatest sense of fashion, but I’d rather be comfortable in my clothes than self conscience – especially now. But perhaps I would do better in model dresses during the pandemic as Roland and Jenna are the only ones who will see me.  All dressed up and nowhere to go.  So why bother?

          My husband has always looked at me with puppy eyes.  Puppy eyes wearing Barbie shades.

MCL Book Club

         When Myrtle Creek Library was still a public library back in 2016 there was an announcement for a book club.  Unlike Salt Lake county that has several copies of many books, Douglas county had multiples of  approximately 8-12 books.  I remember the librarian passing a list of suggested titles and a brief description.  The most unanimous we for  A Light in the Wilderness by Jane Kirkpatrick. 

The story is one of African-American pioneer Letitia Carson who made her way to Oregon and although she was a property owner by today’s standards, the law back then frowned upon women owning property.

        It appeared to be easy reading and we each took home a copy (I think there were eight of us) and would meet the following week or two (I don’t remember) and while the storyline did seem interesting, most of us found the book to be very one dimensional as characters would be mentioned but not developed.  It wasn’t so hard to keep track of as it just seemed to leave out enough detail that it was hard to imagine . . . if that makes any sense.

        Latitia Carson was buried in Pioneer Cemetery upon a hill just behind the gas station we often stop to have our car filled.  Roland and I have been to pioneer cemetery only once.  I searched among the headstones to see if I could find one for Latitia but I did not find one.  Most of the “markers” are unmarked – bearing a leaf but no other information.  Those that include a name or date are so badly weathered that it is hard to read (see here). 

For the second book we read it was suggested that instead of having everybody read the same thing, why not read something that we would not normally read and each give our review on what we had chosen. The library was then having a book sale and I somehow felt myself drawn to a book called When Beauty Tamed the Beast by Eliosa James. I HATE romance novels, I despise them.  I picked it up not only because it is a genre I avoid, but because it had a giant font which I thought would be easier to read than most books. 

        It was hilarious!  I thought it was anyway.  Yes, it did occasionally drop a hint of grossness but nothing that made me want to vomit (as most romance novels do).  I could read other books by Eliosa James if that was indeed her style.  When I looked at the review four years ago, it did not seem well favored by her fans as she had stayed away from her usual.  Okay, that makes sense that I would enjoy something that the avid romance reader would not. 

        When I looked up the Title today it fell under fairytale 2 and I can no longer find the indecent review which I found before.  But I don’t see the book as a fairytale per se.  I think I would have been more disappointed with it if I had been expecting a fairytale. 

        I remember there were a couple that gave reviews and it peaked my interest but for the most part I didn’t care for the descriptions of the books that the others had read – nor do I recall any further meetings for the book club that seemed to vanish quicker than did the library (here) 

        When we had first moved to Myrtle Creek Jenna and I had gone to the library all the time.  And then I received my position on the board. Funny how I plugged for the promotion of voting to save the libraries and was active as a volunteer for a few months and just stopped going after a while. I got busy with school and then 2020 took over.  I need to go back someday.

Being a Part of the Choir

           I love to sing but was not blessed with the talent that makes others want to listen nor have not taken the time to develop my vocal ability.  I have joined a number of choirs through the years – well mostly church choirs.  I have joined for more to contribute to body count rather and overall I have enjoyed the company. I know I am not the greatest singer and so it is nice to belong to a body of those who do.

          I remember my entire family having joined the stake choir when we lived in Kearns.  We performed twice a year as I recall – once during conference and once the first Sunday in December.  The December performance was always so awesome.  There was always at least one song that would tug at my heartstrings and my eyes would moisten as the male voices would soar behind me. 

          Our choir director’s name was Diane.  She had quite a pleasant attitude and would always say things to make us smile – for we needed to smile when we preformed and not appear grumpy.  I have tried to keep that image with me whenever I have performed.

          I remember one stake conference I had gone to each practice diligently with Roland and the boys.  Though we arrived early on Sunday morning for one final practice I ended up bailing on the performance. I had just learned that I was pregnant with Jenna and was experiencing morning sickness.  I had started out sitting in the pews closest to the stand to watch my men.  After a while I went from the front to the back of the chapel and finally to the back of the cultural hall.

          Our stake president found me in the cultural hall amongst the empty chairs and joked “You need to come early to find a good seat back here.”

          I told him I had initially come to perform but was pregnant and needed to be as close to the restrooms as possible.  After that we all seemed to taper off being in the choir.  After we had moved to West Valley we would try to return to Kearns stake on the first Sunday in December to watch others perform.  We didn’t always make it because of the weather.  I don’t know why, but it seems like it always snowed that night as though testing the diligence of those involved.

          Some callings or talks are assigned by inspiration – others have come from desperation.  I don’t know what the reasoning was behind asking Jackie and I to sing something together when I lived in West Valley.  We didn’t have a choir in West Valley and I found that odd.  I’d never been in a ward that didn’t have a choir.  Perhaps if they had everyone would have known that Jackie and I couldn’t sing – each believing the other sounded worse.

          I think we might have been asked just to prove that God does have a sense of humor.  I smiled big and proud.  I thought perhaps if I had followed Diane’s advice, people wouldn’t notice how bad I (we) sounded. We sang a primary song. I think we sang “Jesus Said Love Everyone” (here)  although that does seem shorter than what I remember. Perhaps we sang it through twice.

Even though I had smiled (and maybe Jackie did too – I wasn’t looking at her) I’m sure that we were as pleasant to listen to as two wounded cows. I had posted about it on facebook.  A couple of years later I made a comment that I noticed we had never been asked to perform again.

Letting Go

 I was not on facebook at all on December 31 or January 2.  It was nice.  So many times I have considered removing myself from being connected but there are aspects I enjoy such as “Come Follow Me” and keeping connected with the ward relief society and different community pages.  More pluses than negatives if I will allow myself to look at it that way.

The only reason I had turned on my computer yesterday was because Roland wanted to send Randy a card for his birthday – which is tomorrow and will not get to him in time if we were to mail it out.  If my computer is opened I will open the internet and dabble.  Last night I saw a notification from a member in the ward who I have bonded with in some ways but do not always choose to read her posts and wish I would have gone with my first impulse NOT to click on the notification but ignore – but it was Sunday and she often does share inspirational messages.  No, last night was a question and answer about Trump being able to stay in office.  I don’t know how many people agreed with her but did recognize a few names. 

My first thought was: “Get over it!  Trump lost a long time ago.  Are we seriously going to do away with democracy so an overgrown bully can get his way?” I wonder how many would demand recounts and overpost a victory gone wrong had the tables been turned.  There's been so much bantering the entire year of 2020.  Can't we start the new year off NOT?!?

I was wondering what reference I could use from the scriptures or general conference talks – that’s what we do, right?  Those who were slaveholders used scriptures to prove how God supports slavery while those against slavery used the same set of scriptures to disprove their belief.

I heard the still small voice telling me to

“Let it Go”. 

I decided to listen.

Still I needed something that would bring peace to my own mind.  I looked up “peace” and started into different passages but not satisfied.  I remembered I had meant to look up the lyrics of Micheal McLean’s “I Cry the Day I Take the Tree Down” (here) from the from The Forgotten Christmas Carols.

I had gone into the other room where Roland was finishing up another episode of Stargate and asked if we could watch The Forgotten Christmas Carols on YouTube.  I loved this production made available in November of 2020 though filmed in 2008.  It brought me peace. 

 This year’s Come Follow Me program focuses on the Doctrine and Covenants and I read scriptures from various weeks and found the Lord lovingly chastising me as many of the words spoke to me directly – which is a good thing.  That’s how I need to read them.

Unlike the other standard works, the Doctrine and Covenants themselves do not tell a story but are a collection of revelations.  Behind each revelation is a story and the website offers references that connect and I am awed by how quickly each reference is available at the click of a button – something that our forefathers could not have imagined.

The revelations had been compiled in a book called “The Book of Commandments” but was not made available to the saints as they are today.  Those who were sent on missions were allowed to copy some revelations to carry in their pockets and possibly exchange if they met up with another who also carried scriptures that way. 

I have learned a lot already and hope to continue in the Spirit guiding me and shed the anger of darkness.

For more information see the Come Follow Me programs found here, here and here.

 

 

 

Reminiscing New Years

         Nine years ago today I started my blog.  I explained my purpose and the reason for the title.  The next day I posted about New Years – my goal was to give gratitude with every post.  My posts may have started out that way but I don’t think I was diligent.  I don’t know.  I haven’t gone back to reread every post. Toward the end of the year I was more focused on my mom’s needs as she had dementia and I highly suspect that my posts did not always reflect that of gratitude.

        At the end of the year I had taken Jenna to the library for an afternoon countdown – counting up to 12:00 and blowing horns.  She had wanted to stay up but had conked out by 11:30.    We had gone to my mom’s house New Year’s Day 2013.  We played games with my sister and her husband.  Jenna played with her cousins.  When Corey called my mom later on she told him that we had gone hiking.  We had not gone hiking.  It was too cold.

        I did not post about New Year every year, but when I did I would usually mention the weather, traditions of taking down the tree and reminisced on someone always being sick or emotional on New Year’s Eve.

        By 2014 my mom had passed away.  It was Roland’s turn to be sick and yet he had donated blood on New Year’s Day.  Go figure.  The weather was awesome that year.  Jenna and I took Shilo (aka Highness) for a walk in the park.  Autumn leaves were still on the trees and on the ground.  It was awesome.

        2015 Jenna’s final countdown with West Valley library. We did not know that we would be living in another state within six months. 2016 our first New Years in Oregon.  Jenna rode her bike and I took pictures. 

        There was no mention of New Years in 2017.  Jenna and I had purchased a calendar and had decided to celebrate the list of silly holidays that were suggested. On 2018 I took a suggestion that my sister had posted to write down positive things throughout the year and place them in a jar to be read 2019.  I remember reading through each paper on New Years.  That is the year I had set a goal to write at least two dashes per week or month – I can’t remember. 

        New Year 2020 we completed taking down the decorations (which we had started early due to weather and Roland’s insistence) It was Jaime who was sad that year.  We didn’t know that 2020 would become the longest year known to man. 

        Which brings us to this year.  2021.  Jenna and I played games hoping Roland would join us – but he’s had this cough for over two months now.  A severe cold but nothing COVID concerning.  He’s not always the greatest at taking care of himself.

        At 10:30 we put in Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle so that at midnight when Dwayne Johnson put the emerald back into the Jaguar statue.  Roland opened some sparkling cider that we drink only once a year.  It was still warm and half of it exploded on his pants, on the couch and in one of my slippers.  We poured at the rest to toast the New Year and said “Jumanji” with the rest of the cast as it seemed more fitting than happy New Year.

        Jenna and I took down most of the decorations from the house.  There are still a few strands of lights framing the deck and the eaves.  Roland was quite staple happy when he put them in, but I didn’t wish to drag out the ladder to unstapled them.

        The weather was nice until just after 3:00 – a fierce wind swept over our street just as I finished bringing in the chords that Jenna and I had neglected earlier.  And as with every other year, all of us are finding things that didn’t make it to the shed.

Christmas Angels

           My first daughter-in-law is a lot more creative and frugal with money than I have ever been.  Both skills I am certain that she learned from her mother who was able to make her husband’s paycheck stretch among feeding seven children and providing for medical and clothing needs.  I don’t know what her dad did for a living, but I highly suspected that there had been struggles.  I, unfortunately, never got to know her mom as she passed two months after Tony and Rochelle were married. 

          Roland sent each of the boys a check to use for Christmas gifts this year.  I don’t like going to the post office in December as it is.  And we always end up spending more on shipping than for the items themselves. Of course this year presented even more challenges.  For the last couple of years we have sent out gifts to Tony’s family and sometimes my sister.  We had both told Tony that we wouldn’t be doing a gift exchange this year. Oregon seems to have more restrictions than does Utah – or else there are just more people in Utah that don’t care.

          Tony said they had gifts for us regardless.  I am so happy about the gifts he sent for there was a lot of thought put into them – and I’m certain the family had fun making these:

 

          One year Rochelle had traced each child’s handprint and added faces to make them deer.  This year she turned the handprints into Angel wings:

 

          They also made a nativity which we will hang on our tree next year. 

 

          I received a cup that displayed the photos of the three grandchildren from that side.  There was also a 300 piece puzzle which we will start after we take the tree and other decorations down.

 

          Jenna took pictures of our opening packages and all the games that were sent.  We will be playing one this morning.  Most require more than two people.  Look forward to when we will be able to do that with other people.

Try to See With God's Eyes

 

We are all made of many puzzle pieces 

some more complex than others. 

Some seem near completion but we don’t really know. 

Only God sees the entire picture. 

He knows what puzzle pieces go where. 

 Sometimes He will send people into your life

to help you find your puzzle pieces

 but the picture is never complete for ourselves

 why would it be for another?

  If I don’t know about all the pieces that

are missing from my life or what pieces will

make me whole or tie me to somebody else

 what makes me think I can see

another’s completed picture?  I can’t. 

 

I know I can only see a small handful at best

but I’m not an expert who can always figure out

how they connect. 

I want to be a good friend. 

I want to help others feel more complete. 

Especially during this pandemic. 

We definitely are living an odd era.

God sees the complete picture. 

He knows how we fit.

Food To Go

         On Wednesday one of our most beloved ward members returned home after fighting a battle with cancer.  I don’t know if she had cancer before she and her family had moved out of the ward.  I first learned about it at the Christmas party last year.  She had lost a lot of weight and told her that she looked good.  That is when she sprung the news on me “in confidence”.  She said she had told only a few selected people – those who were her closest friends – which I learned yesterday was just about everybody.  That seemed to be her purpose in life – making each person feel as though he or she was her best friend.  

        I have referred to her as Aurelia in my blog and so will continue with it.  She was the 2^nd counselor in the Relief Society when my family moved to Oregon in 2015. I think she lived further southeast than anybody as it would take her 45 minutes to just over an hour to get to church – depending on the weather.  But she was diligent in making that drive and visiting those she loved.  She would come to the ward once a month to set up for lunch and games.  She loved the ward members.  She loved to laugh.  She loved playing games.  She was so much fun to be around.

        Even after she had moved out of the ward and no longer had a key to the building, she would still come around for those once-a-month Wednesdays until the weather turned.  It made for a longer drive.  Sadly, she didn’t feel connected to the ward she had moved into.  Boy, did they miss out!  Aurelia is one of the most Christ like people that I can think of.  She didn’t gossip or speak unkindly of anyone.  If she did let an unkind word slip (which was rare) she would immediate get on her own case and say that she would have to repent.  Everybody knew and loved Aurelia. And had it not been for this strange year of masks and social distancing the church would have been packed yesterday with those who wished to celebrate her life.

        It has been a tradition within many wards to prepare and serve food to those family members who have traveled for the funeral.  As with many other traditions 2020 has managed to cancel or provide opportunity for those to make adjustments, we did not do the traditional luncheon.  We were told that there would be 20 family members.  Before the services started, we were there to prepare 20 sack lunches for the family to take with them as they drove away.  No social distancing in the kitchen.  Only two people could be in the kitchen in order to accomplish that.  I believe there were five of us. 

        There was no casket, no viewing of the body.  I don’t know if Aurelia had been buried already, where, or surrounding events.  Her family had wanted to hold services where she had been comfortable and had served diligently.  It was a nice service but we sat spaced out and were excused right after the service.  At least three in the back rows (who were excused to leave first) went to our cars and left the parking lot.  I wasn’t there to see how quickly the rest had filed out.

        Various ward members gave brief talks before the family members were invited to share their memories.  Her youngest daughter shared a memory of being sick as a child – she’d been down with the flu or a cold and Aurelia had gone toward her room to check on her when there was some kind of crash that had encountered her leg.  The child got out of bed to come to her mother’s aid but became disoriented and fainted.  Each was concerned about meeting the needs of the other.

        When it was discovered that Aurelia needed care, she was taken to the hospital but still concerned more about her youngest daughter than of herself.  Aurelia left the hospital with 58 stitches in her leg.  The speaker had checked out with no concerns.  That’s just the kind of person Aurelia was – always thinking of others more than herself.  It didn’t matter if we were even blood related. 

        She had told me that she saw the cancer as a blessing.  I understand she was bed ridden toward the end.  Oh, how I have missed her.  How blessed Heaven is to have her back.