Killer Snow

            Shortly after we moved to West Valley, Jenna started hanging at Alley’s house.  Every once in a while Alley and her brother came over to our house, but usually Jenna went to theirs.  I don’t know why they stopped playing together.  But they haven’t been hanging around together for at least a couple of years.

 

Jenna and I were waiting for the bus on Tuesday morning when Alley’s mom offered to drive us to school. Her oldest attends the same junior high that Jenna will be attending.  She had already dropped him off but seemed willing to make another trip.  She said she was also willing to pick her up from school – and the junior high gets out at least an hour before the elementary school does.

So yesterday she picked Jenna up and took her to school and we picked her up last night.  Today brought the killer snow, and she was still willing to drive us. But as her children get out of school only five minutes after Jenna and the weather was awful I told her we would find another way for coming home.

Jenna had a pair of jelly shoes that she wanted to wear to the school performance today – one that I had planned to attend.  I told her to put her jelly shoes in her backpack and she could wear them to the concert but that she needed her boots on to wear to school and that she could change.   

I didn’t know whether I should just hang out at the school all day or return home for an hour and a half and attempt to catch a bus back to the school. But when Jenna got out of the car I realized she still had her jellys on and that I would have to return home for her boots (as the falling snow STILL hasn’t stopped)

The distance between Jenna’s school and our house is 10 min by car, 20 min by bus – except for snow days, which are more than an hour.  I waited for an early bus for nearly half an hour.  When I checked the time 20 minutes before her program started, I realized I would not get there on time, as it was some distance between the bus stop and the front of the school.  So I turned around and went home and figured I would return to catch a bus that would get me to the school hopefully between 12:30 and 1:00.

 

As I waited, I watched the news.  Top stories and breaking news were all weather related.  Airport closed.  Power poles snapped and caught on fire.  Many many many without power currently.

I boarded a bus that arrived on time.  Traffic was slow getting to the intersection.  After that the bus seemed to speed up and actually had to wait at two stops as he had arrived ahead of schedule.  I was the only passenger on the bus between my house and the school.

I was able to climb the street to her school in less than 15 minutes.  I was surprised when I walked through the school doors and noticed the clock.  School wouldn’t be out for another hour.  But she didn’t wish for me to check her out early.

 

As we were waiting for the bus, Jenna had to play in the snow banks, of course.  She lost a boot in the process.  I told her the bus was about to turn and she worked at tugging her foot free.  After she got to the bus stop she realized that her boots didn’t match (one was just lining) and her boot was still in the snow.  She managed to rescue it before the bus arrived – just in the nick of time.

 

We usually take the main road to/from school but on the return today we tried something different.  After school we took a route that required 3 transfers.  Outrageous, right?  And yet that route took less than 30 minutes.  Unbelievable!  It took the same amount of time to walk (or should I say trudge rather) as it did to ride.  We were home only an hour after school let out – instead of the 2 ½ it took with the last snowfall that lasted all day.

I actually saw more plows out on the roads last time.  I don’t think the weather issues were as severe on the 3^rd of December as they are today.  Perhaps the closed roads had delayed the bus I’d been waiting for this morning.  

I shoveled the sidewalks and driveway upon my return.  A neighbor assisted with the endless task.  I hope it’s still low enough as to where Roland can get in the driveway.

 

Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda . . . Time Machine

“And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness.  I give unto men weaknesses that they may be humble; . . .” Ether 12:27

How many of us wish we had a time machine that we might have opportunity for do over.  If only I had made a different choice.  If only I had spent more time (and probably money) perhaps we could have found our runaway dog.  I wish I had been a more positive influence when Roland’s girls came to visit.  I wish I hadn’t left Jenna in all day kindergarten after we moved.

Regrets are demons if we allow ourselves to dwell on what could have been instead of just moving on.  Perhaps we may learn from or see growth from what it is we think we’d like to change.  Allow me to use Jenna’s kindergarten experience as an example.

The school by our first house offered two all-day kindergarten classes.  There were few parents who desired just half day.  The instructors were able to devote more time to their students and the children learned more than they would have in half day.  That is what I was used to.  That is what I wanted to continue with.

But we didn’t necessarily have that option at the second school.  The all day kindergarten program was definitely NOT the same.  I didn’t know that.  Either it hadn’t been explained to me or I just wasn’t listening or I hadn’t understood.  Nor had I prayed about my decision to put her in all day kindergarten.  But even if I had, would the results have been any different?

Jenna LOVED her first school and she tried loving her second.  But she was as a disadvantage as she was so much smarter than the other children who didn’t know how to accept Jenna.  I don’t think they were mean to her necessarily, but they certainly weren’t friendly.  Jenna felt so alone – which she would have in half day as well, but it would have been fewer hours at school and more time with me teaching her at home.

I’ve known all along that it was/is stupid to have this regret.  It has already happened.  I can’t change it.  And yet I realize that without the tragedy of how Jenna and I each felt about her education (or rather lack of) that we would most likely not be where we are today.  For without that experience I may not have searched so hard to find another school.  Nor would I have even considered another school if we were still living in our first house. She’s had many awesome opportunities with her current school that she would have missed out on with the other two. I think it was worth the four month struggle we both faced after we moved.  But it’s taken me a long time to figure it out.

Whenever I think of the apostle Peter, I wonder if he had regrets.  He made some huge errors that are recorded for the entire world to read about.  And yet, how much stronger and diligent was he at fulfilling his mission?  Did he not turn his human weaknesses into strengths?  Was he not a stronger leader after the resurrection than before Christ was crucified?

There are no time machines.  We can’t change the past.  Regret will only get in the way of our growth and happiness.  We need to move on.  We need to find our strengths.

Reminiscing

Last year Ellen took my mom to the store to purchase three gifts.  I don't know whether Ellen suggested it or if mom had thought on her own to get her three youngest grandchildren one gift each.

When I saw them on the table I asked my mom about them.

"What are these?" I asked.

"I don't know.  I think they're Ellen's"

I didn't think they were.

I didn't see much of Ellen when I was at mom's house.  But somewhere we made a connection and I had asked if they really were hers.  She said that mom had purchased them for Jenna, Anna and Gary but she hadn't gotten around to wrapping them.

I wrapped them and tagged them and placed them under the tree.  My mom kept asking who the gifts were for and where they came from.  She didn't seem to even know that Christmas was coming up pretty soon.

She was like a kid on Christmas day.  Who knew it would be the last Christmas that we would spend in her house?  or that it would be her last Christmas on earth?

Many of us are missing her this Christmas.  Many of us our thinking about our last holiday season together.  I'm grateful for the happy memories that help us to make this season a little more pleasant.

I really do miss you Mom!

Opportunities and Being the First

As a youth, I remember participating in school programs each year.  When I was in forth grade I remember performing in various parts of the city – including the University of Utah.  I thought we must have been really awesome to be asked to sing there.  I didn’t realize that many other schools participated also. I remember learning songs for a variety of occasions.  And I remember dressing up for Halloween.

At the end of January and the start of February 2012 I posted just a bit on the evolution of Jenna’s education.  Jenna has never dressed up for Halloween except for when she was in preschool – and even then they weren’t allowed to call it “Halloween”.  It got passed off as “Make Believe Day”.  Her first school was year round and Grades K-6 just happened to be off each Halloween.

She had two and a half years of schooling before we had to move.  She completed two years of preschool and then we registered her for kindergarten. There had been a big push to sign up for after school programs.  Mothers who had children who were struggling academically or parents who weren’t home to receive their children right after school opted the program.  I had signed up Jenna because in order to be a part of the school choir it was mandatory to stay after hours.

I recall how excited she was that first day I picked her up.  She thanked me for allowing her to be in the choir.  She and her friend Chate Lin both sang “Feliz Navidad” quite enthusiastically.  She wasn’t even in dual immersion at the time. I was saddened that a music program was never performed.   I would have liked for Jenna to have that experience. 

There was a tremendous interest in the after school program – possibly too much.  I’m guessing 35 – 50% were kindergarteners. Choir had to be split into two separate groups: the kindergarteners and everybody else. I heard that the kindergarteners were not allowed to participate in the after school program the following year due to the huge amount of children who were still on the waiting list.

So move on to the second school which did offer programs – though I don’t know how often.  Songs seemed to focus on things they were learning.  I don’t imagine they would ever do a holiday theme as the children who attending were from diverse backgrounds.  A melting pot of races and religions – many who struggled to learn anything.

She started the first grade school she attends currently.  She’s now in the forth.  Two or three times a year the children perform songs to fit the theme of Christmas or patriotism.  Sometimes there is an extra program for those in dual immersion.  Jenna loves having art and music.  Those were my favorite activities also.

The first school she attended is back to the traditional calendar year.  I notice that they dressed up for Halloween this year.  I noticed that they dress up at the school where my niece teaches also.  All three schools just happen to be in the same district but in Jenna's current school they are not allowed to dress up for Halloween while attending classes.   

But Jenna has opportunities in this school that hadn’t come with the first two and I’m grateful for those things that she has been able to do that she wouldn’t have had the opportunity to do otherwise.  Take today for instance.  Currently she is on a field trip for Ski Utah.  My baby is learning how to ski!  No one else in the family has been on skis.  The closest to it is Randy with his snowboard – but he has not been on skis.  

 Jenna has been ecstatic – not only for the field trip itself but for being able to be the first one in the family to do so. And I am grateful for her enthusiasm.  I look forward to hearing her report when I pick her up – which actually won’t be that long from now.

 

There’s a Pink Monster Near My Parking Spot!

            Regardless of what else she may say, Jenna’s favorite season is winter.  Okay, she has admitted to not liking being cold.  But she’s got to admit that she LOVES the snow. Since she was little she has been magnetized to it.  Loves climbing snow drifts, making snow angels, throwing snow, eating icicles, drawing in the snow with icicles.  Jenna LOVES the snow!

           We lived only five minutes away from her first school.  But we left the house at least twenty minutes early to give her time to dawdle.  The return home ALWAYS took twice as long.  But especially when there was snow.  Not a lot has changed in six years – except the school and transportation.  The other day she hit every snowdrift between the school and bus stop – and may have done it yesterday as well, but she forgot she said that she’d be helping out after school, and so I didn’t even meet with her until an hour after school got out.

            Morning brings the same thing.  Today the driver of the red pick up patiently waited as Jenna played in the drift next to the spot where she wanted to park.

Gingerbread Traditions

           As I have mentioned in a few posts already, I grew up in a house across the street from George and Peggy Bird. Both are from American Fork.  Peggy grew up learning all of the domestic skills of saintly motherhood.  She cooked, she sewed, and she baked. She loved her boys.  She was a devoted mother.

           

            My mom was raised in San Francisco.  She did not grow up understanding canning and food storage or many of the skills that Peggy had acquired.  Mom did try her hand at baking, sewing, crocheting, and even canning.  She loved us.  She was a good mom.  But I think my brother Patrick and I both believed that Peggy was better at baking.  It seemed like she was always baking.  I remember almost every time I walked into the house, she was baking.  What I remember most is the molasses cookies.  Was there ever a time I had gone across the street when molasses cookies weren’t available?  Not when I was in elementary school anyway.

 

I also remember the many Christmases we spent with the Birds. We became part of their family and enjoyed their traditions.

            There was the annual Christmas pageant.  For the longest time I was Mary.  When other families were invited to join in the production I lost my glorified role.  I remember getting demoted to an angel with no speaking parts.   Humility was not my strong suit.

            One tradition that mom had adapted into our own household was the annual ornament that each of us received and would add to the tree.  And when we were grown and out on our own or starting our own families, we would take our ornaments with us.

            One tradition that we didn’t adapt (though Patrick and I would drop hints each year) was the annual gingerbread house that Peggy made from scratch (I now fully understand why mom didn’t seem as excited about what Patrick and I thought would be great.  And perhaps she did attempt it but it just wasn’t her forte)

            I don’t know how early in the month she made it.  I would imagine it was decorated on a Monday night.  Each of the boys would help decorate (as I recall) and it would become part of the decorations.  On New Years Eve the boys would hold their annual Gingerbread Smash.  I think Patrick must have gone to them all – and I’d gone to a few (I usually got sick just before the new year) and we would each have an opportunity for hacking away at the house and then devour it.  That was something special.

 

            Nowadays commercialism offers pre-made gingerbread kits.  The taste of the gingerbread isn’t near as wonderful as the rich taste of Peggy’s made-from-love.  But Roland purchases kits each year – first for the boys and now for Jenna.  And each year Roland builds the house and instructs the kids on how to assist and then allows them to finish decorating with wherever their imaginations lead.  Less than 24 hours later the house gets broken into.  A few pieces here and there – the house goes from slum to run down eye-sore.  He doesn’t believe in display.  Too bad.

 

            Fortunately I have taken pictures every year – even last year when the house started out looking like a HUD home. Crooked, run-down.  Each year we’ve used up all the frosting.  This year was just a little bit different.  Roland purchased a pre-made house that we didn't have to glue.  We also ended up with tons of frosting left.

            Jenna decided that she wanted a green roof.  Roland helped her to spread the icing.  Other than that she decorated the entire thing by herself.  She included a flower on one side and a vegetable garden behind the house.  I thought it ironic that she’d call them vegetables as two of them in real life are vegetables that she refuses to let near her mouth.  

            Jenna created a vine and gave it tomatoes.  Next to that are two carrots.  And then a corn stalk with a few ears.  Finally eggplant which I don’t think she’s ever tasted before.  I have.  Haven’t been impressed with the taste of it.

            On the other side is a Christmas tree.  A Christmas tree and a vegetable garden.  I suppose it’s possible.  Not in my part of the world.

            Roland took some cookies out of the pantry and told us to decorate them. 

We still have frosting left.  But many parts of the gingerbread house have been eaten - including some of the roof.

A Silent Christmas

I am so grateful to see this posted on YouTube as I was not able to read it all at our Relief Society yesterday.  Truth be known, I would rather read a book than a video.  The message is awesome:

Thank you Brittney for sharing!

I HATE SHOPPING!!!

Romeros (Roland’s side of the family and All their descendants) LOVE to shop. The Cannons (my side of the family) DO NOT – and yet all four of my mom’s children married shopaholics and it doesn't even seem to matter what kind of store for some of them.

If my sibs and I absolutely have to shop, we go with something specific in mind – get in, purchase desired item, get out.  We ALWAYS stick to the list – nothing more.  Roland ALWAYS gets three times more than what I send him for – IF I send him.  (Over the years I learned it’s actually a very dangerous thing)

Roland has a good heart.  He really does.  He is ALWAYS thinking of others.  RARELY does he ever buy for himself.  He likes to browse.  His sibs like to browse.  His children like to browse.  And then he spends money as though he actually has it.

 Uh-oh . . .  he opened an account with a Wal-Mart credit card.  DISASTER!!!!  His original thought was for an emergency.  I don’t think going over budget on Christmas gifts qualifies as an emergency.  Once again: Big Heart.

I’ve been in need of some boots that don’t hurt my feet.  I know approximately what kind of boots I’m looking for – of course he is clueless and tries giving me helpful suggestions.  He thinks he is being helpful.  He doesn’t realize that his “helpful” suggestions are only irritating me.  And with each suggestion he is adding fuel to the fire.  I’m not settling for something that I KNOW is not going to work. LET’S JUST LEAVE THE MALL ALREADY.  THERE IS ONLY ONE STORE THAT WILL HAVE THE BOOTS I WANT – YOU SHOULDN’T BE SPENDING MONEY AT THE MALL ANYWAY.

I had looked for winter boots with heals online.  I have a weird right foot and would much rather try boots on at the store as opposed to ordering them and finding they don’t fit.  So I came up with SEARS – it was ALL that I came up with. I figured if we went to the one in Jordan Landing we could sneak a peek at Kohl’s but as Roland had an errand near my old neighborhood, we tried the Sears at Fashion Place Mall.

Corey had written this post about the evolution of Fashion Place Mall built in 1972.   I remember it well.  My friends and I could walk there on foot.  It was a good walk, but we felt so grown up being there.  Fashion Place had three anchor stores: Sears, Weinstocks and Auerbach’s. And ZCMI fell somewhere in the middle.

It didn’t seem that Auerbach’s was part of the mall for very long.  By 1981 Auerbach’s had closed and we were introduced to a new anchor store called Nordstrom’s – which evidently started out specializing in shoes but branched out from there.  I personally don’t care for their products.  The few purchases I had made during my life were not that well made – especially for what they cost.  And overall, I thought the shoes that were offered were very ugly.

All throughout its existence, the mall had seen stores come and go. Eventually Weinstocks was replaced by Dillard’s and ZCMI was replaced by Macys’. The mall I remember had received a huge makeover.  It wasn’t the same.  It's no longer my mall. 

Shops were set up to surround the mall – so there are now stores inside and out.  For me it’s a sea of confusion.  I no longer like Fashion Place Mall (or most malls for that matter.)  It is just so congested I can’t even breathe. 

Our trip had been in vain. Though the “Sears” part of the mall could still be seen from the street, the signs were gone.  The building was empty.  Dillard’s and Nordstrom remain.  Sears has not yet been replaced. Roland wanted to look at every footwear place.  He would hold up pathetic boot wannabes and let me know of its existence and I would cringe and say “I should have showed you a picture so that you would know what I want” though I think he would have still continued with his NON helpful suggestions.

.  The mall seems to cater to the thin, small and rich.  And I am none of those.  I was finally able to convince him to leave when I mentioned a package we hadn’t mailed. I ended up with a pair from Payless (far away from the mall).  They fit.  They’re actually cute.  But they’re Payless – so it’s highly probable that they won’t outlast this winter season.

Biff has slept the last few days at home instead of Jeanie’s family.  Only because one of his tires had blown and he has been driving around on a doughnut – which Roland says does not provide great traction – which he learned first hand yesterday and told Biff to drive to a Wal-Mart to get a tire and pay us back on Thursday.

So yesterday he calls me from Wal-Mart because he’s interested in purchasing a tree in addition to the tire for Biff’s car.  He gave me some brief descriptions along with some prices.  I would like to see the tree with my own eyes before he spends the money, and so he came home to get me.

I actually had to drive just as Biff had done previously.  Roland had an outpatient procedure that left him loopy and he was told not to drive for 24 hours. He suggested on getting presents for various family members.  There were a few things in the cart that we actually needed but for the most part the cart was filled with desires and not needs.  He thought he would charge it. That was a fiasco.

 

We all have Wal-Mart stories. And it always makes us embarrassed that we had ever admitted to going to Wal-Mart in the first place.  Corey wrote thishilarious post – which is actually quite lengthy (six pages long) – a description that is quite typical of a Wal-Mart adventure. And Roland dressed like this one year to represent his version of a Wal-Mart consumer stereotype.

Our experience yesterday was more dramatic and frustrating – though no fault to our checker who was actually quite helpful – well as helpful as she was allowed in her given position.  Evidently Roland had gone over his spending limit in the last two weeks, and so when he swiped his card, the machine did not accept it.  Thus the register was suspended and we were waiting for the manager, waiting for authorization.  Waiting.

The cashier gave Richard a card to call-in and extend his limit.  Another machine.  We’ve relied too much on modern technology and seemed to have escaped true customer service.  One cannot reason with a machine.  It hung up on Roland at least three times. Truth be known, I don’t want to see our credit extended.  Does he not remember that the credit card is partly what had contributed to our financial problems in the first place? I need to remove Roland’s card from his wallet. 

Hair Traitor

   

        I have a facebook friend whose daughter is a hairdresser.  She works at a rather prestige salon with two locations.  Employees are tested on current hairstyles and are to provide their own models.  Thus my friend will send out posts containing pictures of a particular hairstyle, date and time for those who would like to volunteer.  The services are free – financially anyway.  Very time consuming to one who has A LOT of hair and a hairdresser who is obviously NOT familiar with the huge amount 

         As I mentioned at the end of this post my hair experience at this particular salon was very time consuming.  She really did do a great job on my hair, and even fixed my face (though my allergies did kick in before my husband could see the full effect) I had compliments.  Roland said my hair looked longer – which it did.  I’ve never heard of a hairdresser gifted enough to lengthen the natural hair already attached to one’s scalp.

         For years I’ve been going to a hairdresser who has her own private practice set up in her basement.  Driving to her residence was usually not that big of a deal – when I’m driving, that is.  Going by bus would give me a leisure walk in nice weather – but not in this harsh bitter cold air. 

         Sometimes UTA stops are done away with due to construction as I mentioned in this post.  Evidently they never put it back.  I don’t see why not – the bus passes by it anyway.

         I happened to drive this morning.  Biff took Roland in for a medical procedure and left me with the car – which initially I wasn’t planning on driving.  But my gosh, it is SOOOOOO COOOOOOLD.  I said a prayer before leaving the house.

 

         My hairdresser can create a hair miracle in just a half hour.  She knows my hair.  I’m grateful that I had the opportunity to fulfill my appointment with her this morning.

Animal Expressions

            Corey used to have a cat, which he named Starbuck.  Corey and Starbuck lived in the basement.  Starbuck would use the stairs on occasion.  I have fond memories of his racing up the stairs one December. 

            Each time the door was open, Starbuck would race up the stairs.  Each time he got faster.  His goal: to climb the Christmas tree.  One family member or another always caught him before he made it to the tree.  But on New Years Day there was no stopping him.  He actually stopped himself.

            We had always taken the tree down on New Years Day.  I don’t know how long it had been down.  We were still cleaning up as I recall.  Starbuck was unstoppable.  He tore up those stairs and rounded the corner ready to pounce. The tree was gone.

 It would have been great to have a camera.  I’ve never seen a cat (or any animal) make that expression before.  It was hilarious.

I don’t think it was near as funny as Tony and I witnessing our dog Daisy make a mad dash for the TV when Garfield appeared on the screen.  The fact that Daisy was running towards the TV was amusing, but even more so because the computerized cat doesn’t even look like a real cat does.

Highness’s expressions are usually ones of guilt