Harriet Oleson: Overcoming Pride

Katherine MacGregor played Harriet Oleson on Michael Landon’s “Little House on the Prarie” No character in all of Walnut Grove was as prideful and full of herself as much as Harriet Oleson – though daughter Nellie came close and was replaced by an even nastier Nancy, who may have succeeded in presenting herself as more superior than even Harriet (who had actually softened up somewhat in later episodes)

Unfortunately all of us know “Harriet Olesons” We go to Church with them.  We listen to their snideful comments about those they refer to as “sinners” and watch them attempt to put themselves on a pedestal by putting others down.  It seems the harder they try to discriminate and sway others to believe the same way as they do – the less desireable they are at passing off themselves. 

Why is it that Harriet Oleson believes she is so superior to every single person?  Does she also feel that she is more superior to God, himself? Because there is no way that prideful of a person would ever recognize the Savior if He were standing in front of her. In a literal sense, I mean.  For it is quite obvious that the Mrs. Olsen’s of this world have missed the boat figuratively.

How can someone who is so feared and obviously NOT respected by others believe that she’s so great?  Greatness is measured by the admiration and the respect from others – not by blowing one’s own horn. And certainly not by putting others down and stepping over them in a vain attempt to reach an unachievable goal.

I used to be a Harriet Oleson.  (At least I hope it’s in the past). I know I’m not perfect – but I don’t think I’m so high and mighty that I can’t benefit from my interaction with others.  I know that I have been a snob in the past.  Gosh, I hope I’ve improved.  Still far from being humble, but at least I’ve learned acceptance.  At least I know now how to defend.

The theme in our last stake (geographical boundary) conference was on love and service.  To love and serve ALL people regardless of their mental state, appearance, background and so forth.  We are all people.  We are all children of our Heavenly Father. It’s high time we shed our “Harriet Oleson” personalities.  But then they are a part of ALL people and may need love even more than the ones that they try to discriminate.  And that is a tough challenge – loving the prideful.  The ones we don’t believe will ever change.

I think the thing that is most mind boggling to me is how in the world did she end up with somebody like Nels in the first place?  And what made him stay with her for all those years?

Mismatched Socks

          I can remember when my mom gave each of us a bunch of safety pins for us to use on our socks in order to keep them together when going through the wash.  I can’t even imagine what would happen if I asked Jenna to pin her socks together.  She can barely get them off her feet.  Sometimes they make it to the hamper.  More often they don’t.

          Sometimes she will put on socks that DON’T match.  A blue sock with a red sock, a dress sock with a causual sock.  A long sock with a short sock.  She doesn’t care.  Whatever’s convenient.

          The other day she left the house with an orange sock and a white sock – but they both had owls on them.  (I think she might be starting a trend, actually) and I spent the day searching for mates.  What a chore.

          Later on Roland and I chatted on facebook:

Me:    got your message. I was in the other room sorting socks. My phone was not in my pocket as I had predicted. It was on the bed.

R:       miss you

M:      sorting socks is BORING

R:       What happened to "whistle while you work?"  Or Mary Poppins's make a game of it?

M:      the wind knocked it out of me. Mary Poppins is welcome to sort my socks. I'd like to nap

R:       We just never see Mary Poppins or Snow White sort socks.

M:      my profile picture makes me look more alert than I actually am; I don't think the dwarves wore socks

R:       you look beautiful

M:      thank you. I love you. You look very handsome yourself

R:       that’s because I am wearing MATCHING sox.

Bless the Earl of Sandwich

          Though he is credited for quite immoral behavior and being too lazy to stop with his gambling habits to eat a proper meal, the legend also gives credit to John Montagu (then, the 4^th Earl of Sandwich) for having created the world’s first sandwich. 

Not wishing to miss out on continuing with his gambling he ordered his meal to be brought to him between two slices of bread so that he would not have to stop to eat but could continue while holding the cards in one hand and the “sandwich” in the other.  How ingenious! Or so I believe it is.  And I’m not alone.  The sandwich is eaten daily by millions of people.  It’s a wonderful invention!

Happy St. Patrick's Day

          Last year Jenna excitedly left the house.  She was dressed in green from head to toe (at least four shades as I recall)  I wish I would have gotten a picture of my very non-Irish looking girl enthusiastically greeting the day.

          Yesterday she wore the green shirt that she had received from girl scouts the night before.

          There is a parade this morning.  She wasn’t happy about the last parade that she was in.  The elements are different.  The last parade she was in was on July 17. It was hot and unbearable.  The last couple of days have been very windy (actually this entire month, I think) and probably will be today.

For this post I will share a bit of my daughter’s fun personality:

Jan 23, 2012:

          My dad was a math genius.  He could spit out answers faster than the calculator could.  This first clever joke came after I had checked Jenna’s math homework

          Me:    Jenna, that is great.  You got all of the answers correctly.

          J:       I know.  I must have Grandpa’s genes

                   Oh, wait.  Grandpa’s jeans are probably too big for me.

Jan 28, 2012

          Tony:  Why did the chicken NOT cross the road to the other side?

          J:       Why?

          T:       Because he was chicken

Feb 12, 2012

         

          I had made comment about an art model that Roland had purchased and Jenna had played with and had obviously NOT put away.

          M:      why is there a modle in the bowl with the fruits?

          J:       What’s a model?

          (I throw her a questionable stare)

          J:       I don’t know.  What’s the model with you?  Get it?

Giving Girl Scouts Another Try

          Shortly after we moved, and I could sense that Jenna wouldn’t be going anywhere with her new school (where she finished kindergarten) I decided to enroll her in girl scouts.

          We’d been invited to attend a meeting for an introduction.  The theme was on culture with an added service project for the food bank.  Eleven booths were set up to represent various countries.  We sampled food from United States, China, France, Mexico, India, Scotland, Austrlia, France, England, South Africa and Switzerland

          Jenna enjoyed learning and making crafts such as origami mask and cutting out shapes for the Chinese puzzle.  She also enjoyed decorating boxes for the food bank. By the end of the night she was fired up.  She had earned her first patch and that was awesome!  That alone made her want to join.  A desire for more patches.

          At the end of the night, Roland and I signed her up to be in a troop – I thought it might give her more exposure to finding friends.  Only the leader of the troop we had signed up for had health issues and after only a couple of meetings and six cancellations (not having learned this until I had literally driven out of my way) we dropped our attempts to be included in the troop – which turned out to be okay – as Jenna still wasn’t comfortable with the girls in her assigned troop.  She felt like an outcast.

          I signed her up for activities as a Juliette but still used the troop number. After Tony returned home from his mission, he and Roland helped Jenna plant a tree.  Her second badge.  And it was fun.  She loved meeting new girls and climbing hills with them.

But when it came time to renew her membership, Jenna just didn’t seem interested anymore.  And because I had transferred schools, I was hoping to find a troop near where she goes to school.  But it didn’t work out for us.  So we went an entire year without girl scouts.  And last month she decided she’d like to start back up again.

And so last night we went to our first girl scouts activity for over a year.  Jenna made crafts for St. Patrick’s day: a badge, a hat (visor) a wand and a finger puppet.  She had a great time.  We learned a song and steps to an Irish dance.  In the end Jenna received another patch to add to her collection and a t-shirt advertising 100 years in girl scouts.

Who Made the Bed?

          On the day that Roland and I got married, the neighbor from across the street from my mom’s house made us a beautiful quilt done in green with some pinks.

          On one side are thirty patches made up of three green prints, one green with rosebuds, and a salmon pink.  On the reverse side there is a rosebud bed outlined by a leafy green frame.  You can always tell which one of us makes the bed by whatever side faces up.

          Jenna and I prefer the patchwork side.  When Roland makes the bed the patchwork is facing down.

Fading Photographs

Today I was looking through some old albums and boxes of photographs.  I remember getting on my mom’s case for having so many pictures in a box and not in an album.  I have come to learn that the box is actually better – or was rather.

Remember the magnetic albums that came out in the 70’s?  All that was required was lifting the plastic and setting the photo on page and presto – it was there for life.  Who knew that just twenty years later we would be scolded for ever having considered ruining our photographs by placing them on pages chalk full of acid.  We might as well have put our photos through a shredder.

I would say that at least 70% of the pictures could be thrown away.  If not ruined by acid, they just really had no business making it to the album in the first place.  But mom could never bring herself to throw such items away, no matter how blurred or butchered the picture itself turned out. 

And by butchered, I mean like the photographer was really meaning to take a picture of the background but somebody’s head got in the way, or others where the entire head didn’t quite make it into the photograph.  And if she couldn’t completely identify them then, why the heck is she hanging onto them over 40 years later?

If nothing else, it is important to write down the name(s) and date of the picture.

I wasn’t really looking for anything in particular, but I would love the opportunity to organize and to scan some of the better photographs to help preserve their lives for a little bit longer. 

Across from my mom's house live our good friends Peggy and George Bird.  Our families have been friends for generations.  We were surprised to learn it had gone back even further than Peggy and mom

One day (this example is from quite a while ago; before the magnetic albums perhaps) while my mom had gone across the street to visit Peggy, she noticed several photographs strewn all over the kitchen table.  Peggy had wanted to make a special gift for George which would include pictures of his lineage (George and Peggy's mother are heavy into genealogy.  Peggy shares the same exact passion as I do - which makes it hard among family history enthusiasts)

My mom said she had picked up one of the photographs and made a comment (referring to the background) that we had one similar to it - except with different people. Peggy said the man in the photograph was George's father, but they had no idea who the little boy was.  Turns out that he was my dad's uncle.

George's father had a best friend named James.  The photograph we had was of my great uncle James and my grandmother, Helen.  My mom had been told that the little girl in the photo was my grandma Helen - but didn't know who the man was that held her. 

George seems to know more about that side of my family than I do.  So my non-biological neighbor (who I do view as a second father) became a source of information for me, and has actually given me photographs.  Isn't that interesting?