Beneath the Wraps

  The other day I took off my hat and gloves shortly after I boarded the bus.   I put them back on just before I exited the bus.   At least I thought I did. I made my way from the bus stop to Jenna’s classroom.   While I waited I once again removed my hat and gloves – oops - glove.  How is it I had only one glove on.   Why hadn’t my hand mentioned to me that it wasn’t covered?   I looked around the area where I was standing.   I must have lost it somewhere along the way.   Weird. So yesterday I kicked the snow in a few areas where I could see color.   No pink glove but a lot of fall autumn leaves.                            Most of the trees stand naked outlined in the snow.   But there are actually a few wi...

What goes around comes around.   I thought about that when Alley’s mom offered not only to drive us to Jenna’s school, but pick her up as well.   When I was driving I had stopped to pick up Jorge and his mom whenever I would see them walking to church.   I was also willing to drive them to other destinations as needed. I’ve given rides to various people for various reasons.   I actually haven’t had a problem with it so I don’t know why I’m having such an issue at the receiving end.   Alley’s mom is a really good driver – unfortunately not all drivers are that careful behind the wheel.   If she were to get in an accident because she was out shuttling Jenna and me around, I would be quite bothered by it.   But I didn’t want to discourage her or take away from her act of kindness.   The last time she picked Jenna up from school, her own children nearly beat her home. Jenna, who usually considers herself late for school ...

Ever watch “My Big Fat Greek Wedding”? Toula’s large extended family reminds me so much of Roland’s side of the family - with a few minor differences.  They’re Hispanic, not Greek.  They are not devout to any particular religion. And instead of a fascintion with Windex, Roland’s mother swears by Vicks Vapor Rub.   Roland well remembers the taste of Vicks.  His mother would smother the inside of each of her children’s mouth.  There is a warning on today’s label NOT to do that.  I don’t know if it was there in Roland’s youth.   I do admit that I have also taken it internally – which I do not recommend.  But it really is the best throat medicine I’ve ever had.  I felt a tinge of excitement the first time I saw Vicks Vapor Syrup.  It is rare to see more than two bottles on the shelf – if at all.  It seems like there are only certain stores that carry it.   The taste is truly NAST...

My body is sooooo sore and has been for a few days.   I feel like I’ve been used as a ping-pong ball by two very expertise players.   But of course I could never be used as a ping-pong ball. A bowling ball maybe.   And not one of those shiny ones that glide smoothly down the lane to shatter pins. I would be one of those dust collectors that has a flaw so that there is no speed involved whatsoever.   Or perhaps I feel like the pin that has been hit over and over. Beach balls, though big, are light and airy and can pop quite easily.   I am thin-skinned and have cut my fingers peeling back egg shells (on occasion) I could never be a basketball or rubber ball or super ball.   I have no bounce – though I may have had at one time.   I’ve long since outgrew my ability to bounce. I suppose I could be a soccer ball that’s been kicked too many times Or pool ball that’s been poked an...

                  I can’t say for certain, but I think it’s highly probable that there are several wards (or congregations) that tend to sing the same 40 – 80 hymnals with each meeting.   That doesn’t even cover 50% of what we’ve been given.   And there are some choristers who have tried to introduce new hymns – which may have been enforced in recent years.   If I was called as chorister, I’m afraid our hymns would be the same familiar ones that we have sung at least 20 times during any given year.   I don’t think I have to be concerned about being called to chorister position.   I enjoy listening to music – and I will even lead – but not with expertise I’m afraid.            My brother, Corey, has often made the complaint that with over 300 hymns (and those are just the ones currently published in today’s hymn bo...

         Each ward has a different cleaning schedule for the building in which church meetings are attended. The church was across the street from the first house in which we lived.   Two wards met in the building.   The two wards would trade off with the cleaning the building and the upkeep of the grounds (namely shoveling snow)   A list was passed around to the members of our ward to sign up for various weeks.   It felt like our family was involved with cleaning the church 4 – 8 times during the year. There are three wards which meet in the building which we currently attend. When we first moved into the ward we were told that each ward was assigned to clean four months out of the year.   The months were consecutive and not spread out.   Our ward would be cleaning the building each Saturday for the last four months.   I personally thought they should be spreading them out, but whatever. In ...

I was watching the news this morning and saw this human interest story about a horse who had been rescued from frozen waters.   It was told in a Twas the Night Before Christmas   type manner. The way it was told seemed somewhat cute in the beginning but seemed to drag into cheesy as the reporter kept on rhyming words.   It made me think of Jane Fonda’s character in “The China Syndrome” which was released in 1979. Kimberly Wells (said character) is sent on assignment to cover the story at the zoo featuring a birthday in honor of a residential tiger (or something like that) and would rather do hard core stories.   I don’t personally know any reporters, their dreams or ambitions, or how many indeed would rather do the hard core and investigation than those human interest stories. (If I were a reporter, I would personally like to deliver the human interest over hard core) Kimberly Wells finds her story at a nuclear power plant.   She wants...

  Almost every year since we moved to West Valley, Roland will ask, “When should we tell Jenna about Santa Clause”  I always answer, “Tell her what?” “There’s no such thing as Santa” “What do you mean?” He gives me a look. “Roland.   I believe in Santa.   I have been Santa.   And we have been recipients of Santa a huge amount of times.   What do you mean there’s no such thing as Santa?” “We need to tell Jenna that you and I are the ones who put the presents out.” “Oh . . . why?” “You don’t want her to be the only one in third, forth, fifth grade to still believe.” “Tony is 23, 24, 25 and he still believes in Santa Clause. I’m 48, 49 . . . and I still believe.” Another rolling of the eyes. Media warns us about targeted homes during this time of the year.   Robbed of Christmas by thieves.   We left the house around 2:30 and did not return until after 8:30.   We had always done Christmas ...