YW Service Scavenger Hunt

                As I was doing dishes this morning I was reminded of a memory from the first ward I had lived in as a wife and mother.  The YW president had called me earlier that week to see if I would allow a team of young women into my house to do various service projects for us: dishes, read to a child, change a diaper, fold laundry, etc.  There was even a space for miscellaneous chores. 

          I was thrilled to have someone else do chores as it never did become a regular thing with my boys.  Jenna was running around at the time, but still in diapers – which someone was able to change just before they left.  Pooey diapers were worth more than just wet diapers but Jenna’s diaper had not been messed in and so the girls didn’t get all the points they were hoping for.

          One did dishes the way her mother had taught her to and seemed to feel honored about getting to wash our dishes as though we were celebrities or something.  Whatever moves your motor, girl.

 

          I remember one girl had read to Jenna and we had given a girl a miscellaneous chore.  I had her write letters that my husband and I would send out to persons who had multiple properties.  She wasn’t comfortable with her cursive as she had printed them.  No big deal.  I think she had printed 15 before the girls left or I had given another task.  I don’t know how many points the team had ended up with but had admired their willingness and was very appreciative for their efforts.  Good memory.

Long Overdue Adjustment in Attitude

          A week before Jenna was born I started recording thoughts in a journal from what I thought might be her point of view.  I added pictures to my accounts.  By the time she was ten I had ten volumes of journal which we started rereading this month.  It has helped to take our minds off everything that is currently taking place and what limited activities I will allow.

I do not like the person I was when she was younger.  I was always so uptight.  I am so grateful to have left that person behind and that Jenna and I are friends with one another and that has her dad’s positivity rather than the attitude I feel like I have lost.  I certainly hope that I did.  I know I still have my uptight moments but I am such a happier and different person than I was for a long time.  I hope to always radiate positivity.

Coins Are NOT the Most Pressing Concern

        Each month this year has brought up a new set of challenges – most which still exist.

        January – Australia caught on fire

        February – Chinese citizens post videos of the effects of COVID19 – I never imagined it would become a world wide thing

        March – Several states go into a lockdown.  For Jenna the pendemic started Friday the 13^th.  The 18^th shakes Utah (where we came from and family members live) starts a chain of earthquakes and aftershocks

        April – nation is short on supplies – items such as face masks, hand sanifizer, ventilators and toilet paper.  Only those working front line have jobs.  People feel more exposed to risk while working front line.  People without jobs are financially worn out.

May – Rumor of Murder Hornets.  Not important enough to last more than a few weeks. George Floyd is killed, black lives matter protests and looters. Still going. 

June – phases and political mask wearing or not wearing. Freedom vs. safety – or is it stupidity vs. safe to be free? Spend more money on struggling businesses in order to keep safe

July – return to school protesting, coin shortage.  Oh, no.  Not coins.  The toilet paper and mask shortage I could live with, but coins . . . . 

So here are the theories.  No one is going to the bank with rolled coins anymore so coins are piling up in people’s homes;  rumor that some businesses are enticing patrons to bring in rolled coins to receive a free drink, slice of pizza or what have you . . . seriously?  Seems the masks and toilet paper have reappeared – especially masks.  There is such a variety of masks on the market now.   

Before 1999 became 2000 there was concern over the Y2K (see here) and we were advised to hang onto small bills of cash in the case we needed to barter or shop without the benefit of change.  They had always talked about bills.  Never coins.

We keep bills in the emergency bags we have on hand in the event we need to evacuate (due to fires or earthquakes; we had never prepared to stay in and NOT leave the house) we don’t have coins.  Coins add weight and our bags are heavy enough just with food.  No one ever told us to keep our charge cards on hand in the event that no one would want to touch the money and there would be places that wouldn’t accept cash.  We saw much of this during our trip to NY.

 We probably shouldn’t have gone.  We probably should have stayed home as we should continue to do unless it’s absolutely necessary to leave the house.  I’m not afraid of COVID.  I am not thrilled with so much of the nation seemingly experiencing the affect of hormones that come with pms or pregnancy though.  Enough already!

I wish the coin shortage was the biggest issue our nation had to face.  

My Day Thus Far

This morning I dreamed I was in an institute class.  I was about 30 years younger and single.  Many of the students in my class were elderly women.  We were challenged to display something that would remind of us the lesson. I had five posters and selfishly planned on hanging all five and would not share them. (I think I probably missed the point of the lesson)

When the class ended I had gone into the hall and toward the door that would lead me out to the parking lot.  I was digging through my purse in order to find my keys.  As I was not coming up with them, I decided to sit down and rummage through my purse believing it would be easier to go through.  Rather than a college or equivalent building, the seat I had chosen next to entrance/exit doors looked more like a lobby you would find in a hospital.

As I was looking through my purse a number of guys appeared to ask me why I hadn’t been to class.  Evidently I had signed myself up for two classes that overlapped in time.  Both were on Thursdays though I thought the class with the young guys in it was taught on Tuesday.  I can’t even remember what course it was but felt more challenged somehow and so decided to drop the institute class.  It was a really weird dream.

I continued to sleep until Alexa woke me up and then I got up and got dressed.  I am usually still in my pajamas when I take Jenna and her friend out to the farm. I took the Saturn this morning as it appears the fan belt has broken in the Impala.  I’m not a mechanic or anything.  I just know it has stopped working and it is far too hot to drive with just having windows down.

        I don’t normally stay with Jenna and her friends to help them pick berries – though I have on occasion stayed an hour to help pick before I wear myself out and return home.  Evelyn (the boss) asked if I would pick berries in the evening to help fill an order due on Wednesday.  It is too hot to do evenings this week and so I will work 5 hours for the next three mornings.  Or so was the plan.

There were the three girls who were picking circles around me.  I would donate my pathetic contribution to their buckets.  They said they had picked 65 pounds.  Normally they pick 60 among them so perhaps I had picked at least four pounds myself.     Since I have always left before other people come, I did not know the amount of pickers in the field was unusually high.  We were all picking in the same patch which must mean Evelyn had recruited several others to help fill the order.

        My back, of course, was bothering me.  I just can’t bend or squat like I used to.  Jenna sits on the ground, but I refuse to do that in fear I will never be able to get back up.         Initially I had planned on staying until 11 but the girls were getting restless and asked if they could go home with me and asked if I could leave at 10:00. 

As I was driving home I felt so sleepy.  It had been overcast all morning – not a cooling overcast either.  It has been hot and humid.  I was in great need of a shower and was also hungry.  When we pulled up, Jenna noticed the front porch had been removed and sitting on the front yard in pieces.  Roland had hired a man named Levi to build us a new porch complete with awning as our old porch seems rickety and unstable.

Jenna told me to shower while she ate and then she would shower.  Thus I took my shower first.  Ate some leftovers and started this entry.  My plan was to take my nap once I had posted this to my blog. Only Roland came in before I had finished.  I was needed in the kitchen apparently, but after a while he told me to go to bed. 

Even with all the noise Levi has made with the buzzsaw and hammer I was able to sleep for just over two hours.  I feel better than I had when we had left the farm.  The sun has made an appearance and the humidity has gone down.  I had to go outside to retrieve my camera so that all of the memory doesn’t get lost in the heat. It feels pretty gross out there.  I am so grateful to have central air again.

Sleep Disturbed

        I have never had the best sleeping habits.  2020 seems to have changed the sleeping habits of many of my friends.  I seem to have more erratic dreams somehow.  I usually don’t remember them.  Sometimes I remember pieces but never any detail.  Take last night for instance.

        I could hear the sounds of an injured animal.  At first it sounded like a dog – whose dog? We don’t see many dogs in our neighborhood.  We see a lot of cats.  Oh, wait.  Perhaps it isn’t a dog after all.  It must be the chickens.  They’re scared.  Why are they scared?  There is a mountain lion after them.  I hear a gun shot.  Oh, no.  The police are going to come around and ask what time we heard the gunshot.  I don’t want to look at the clock.  I am sooooo tired.  I’m guessing it is 2:30.

        I feel the presence of another wild cat.  He is scratching on the window.  I have to walk into the living room to get my phone.  I dismiss the dream.  I had another one.  Jenna discovered three baseball mitts in her room.  (I don’t remember why she has them) and she has decided to give one to a friend who lives in Canyonville.  I had suggested that we take them and leave all three on their doorstep.  So we’re driving towards Canyonville and the smoke from the fires thickens and makes it hard to see.  I have to turn around before we arrive to our destination.

        My bladder wakes me up and I head toward the restroom.  I happen to glance at the clock.  It isn’t even 12:30 yet.  Holy cow!  How could I already have two detailed dreams in such a short amount of time?  My stomach hurt and I had to turn on the light so I can see to pour the medicine out.  I hate the bright light waking me up even more. I get back in bed and I can hear Jenna’s electronic devices making noises.  Her friends are texting.  Give me a break. 

Roland sleeps restlessly and I reach out my hand.  He sleeps flat and I sleep upright and so we don’t cuddle.  He misses that.  I think I sleep better not being cuddled.  I don’t mind cuddling when I’m awake, but when I am asleep I want my own room.

He stops snoring when I’m touching him, but when I remove my arm, his body seems upset.  I finally get out of bed to ask Jenna if she can turn off the sound to her electronic devices.  Hey, as long as I was up anyway, I wrote all of this down – in notes.  Not in detail.  I was too tired.  I wanted to return to slumber land.

Meanwhile Jenna has a friend with a birthday coming up.  She wants to go bowling and have a sleepover with her friends.  I have told her “No” too many times this year.  I hate seeing her looking so forlorn. Stupid year 2020!

A Journey of Memories of a Great Magazine

        The Reader’s Digest is nearly a century old. I remember seeing it in the mail when I was younger.  I did not recognize it as a magazine as it always appeared like a paperback book – except for the table of contents were on the front cover and the picture was on the back.

          Unfortunately I cannot find anything on the web to support my memories of the Weekly Reader and the Reader’s Digest used in classrooms.  I remember having read stories in at least three of them.  I even had one in my collection before we moved to Oregon.  One specific story I remember featured George Washington Carver.  After each story we read were followed by questions that we were required to answer and turn in.

According to this site each issue contained 31 articles and best stories submitted.  To the best of my knowledge it has always included insightful tips and powerful experiences shared.  It wasn’t until after college that I began to appreciate it however.  I ordered my own subscription which was eventually changed to the same address as my mom’s.  Therefore we were getting duplicate magazines.

I remember my sister tearing off the back cover each month and attaching it to her wall.  She thought they were pretty to look at.  Reader’s Digest did have some fun covers. 

The magazine has gone through makeovers and now has a picture on front and table of contents inside.

 

I like holding a book and the Reader’s Digest is still the perfect size.  Last month featured a couple of stories when the pandemic first began.  Touching was the first article “Staying Positive” which tells the story of two men, John, who lost his wallet and Alex who found it.  John had seen Alex as a hero and offered a cash reward but Alex didn’t want (nor expect) it and then John, remembering some extra rolls of toilet paper in his car, offered to share his toilet paper with Alex.  Alex, who was in need for his family, then saw John as the true hero.

It’s a fun and informative book.  I am grateful for my memories associated with this magazine.

We Are Not Human Yoyos

          I have often wondered if someone were to accept blame then what? 

Someone accepting blame for a fire isn’t going to put it out. 

Someone accepting blame for falling asleep at the wheel isn’t going to bring back the victims who lost their jobs because they were stranded on the freeway or lost their lives due to neglect. 

If someone accepted blame for the coronavirus won’t make it go away. 

What happens when someone accepts responsibility?  Then what?

 

          Our country/state has tried lockdown and stay-at-home orders

          Mask orders

          Reopening in phases

          Reclosing

          Stepping back

Four supposed stages.  Has anyone ever made it past stage 2?

 

          As of yesterday, children were allowed to go maskless in the state of Oregon though they were wearing masks in Oregon as I saw my granddaughter wear one on occasion.  She won’t be five for another three weeks.  Tomorrow all people over the age of five are required to wear masks while in public.  All restaurants/bars that had entered phase two now have to close at 10:00. 

          From what I have seen open dining didn’t seem worth the extra effort on the part of the employees – front line workers who put their lives on the line so that we can stuff our faces . . .

Yes we want to keep the businesses open but YOUR BUSINESS IS NOT THE ONLY ONE BEING AFFECTED! Isn’t safety a bigger issue than losing employees?  It is a temporary law!  I hope so anyway.  It changes when the LAW isn’t taken seriously.  Too many business owners doing what they want. 

“Government’s not going to tell me what to do”

“I’m not wearing a face mask.  Those who do are sheep or ostriches”

So you don’t do your part.  You don’t obey the temporary law.  And that is what sets us back.  Case numbers rise all the while you are screaming: 

“The media is lying to us!  Everything is a hoax!”

We jump from phase 2 back to one back to lockdown again.  Quit playing with our lives!  If you don’t obey the temp law our children will never be able to return to school in person. 

Come November there are going to be a lot of people who can’t leave the house – not so much because it’s been ordered but they are too sick to leave their houses . . . to go get groceries, to get themselves to the hospital (which won’t have any beds available anyway) to get out and vote – unless you are one of the fortunate ones who have the option to vote by mail.

Please – let’s not make 2020 any longer than it already has been.  What has it been?  About 5 years now? 

 

I have submitted the paperwork to enroll Jenna in Oregon Charter Academy – online schooling.  She’s not thrilled about the idea.  But she’s not going to be happy with a hybrid/steril/anti-social environment.  This is the first year I haven’t cried about having to pull her out of the dual immersion program.  It just doesn’t even seem to matter anymore.  Not this year anyway.

I have learned much due to this situation.  Will we ever return to a normal?  I am so ready to move forward and leave this pandemic behind us.