Would your Parents Help with the Flower Expenses?

          When I was very young – still in elementary school, probably – my dad had strongly suggested that I elope when the time came.  Of course back then I had no idea what that even meant – but as I got older and older, I realized that the elopement thing was sounding better and better.  Weddings DON’T have to be expensive.  But some brides allow things to get out of hand.

          I actually come from a very practical family who has not spent a lot of money on that special day.  Mostly due to a lack of funds – but also because we realize it is just one day and the expenses don’t have to be off the charts.  What’s the point?

          I realize that there are some who have dreamed about her “perfect wedding” her entire life.  I wasn’t one of them.  Getting the groom was the main most important thing.  All else was unnecessary.  Especially when I got older and realized how impractical so much of it really was and is.

          My brother and his wife got married around Christmas time.  The reception hall had been decorated for the holidays.  And Sunny and her family just incorporated those decorations for the wedding itself.  Sunny wore her mom’s dress.  I don’t even remember what food they had – but I’m guessing that it was simple.

          Sunny did have a line. She had chosen two shades of pink for the bridesmaids to wear. Of all existing fabrics she had chosen taffeta – okay, so the whole wedding wasn’t practical.  Half of us looked like circus tents.  It was the one and only time I would wear that dress.

          What’s up with bridesmaid dresses anyway?  To analyze that would have to be a post all on its own.  But let me not lose focus here.

          After Roland and I got engaged, we had changed our wedding date so many times.  There were complications with his ex that I will not even try to explain.  We would make arrangements around other people’s schedule – and you know what?  No date will ever work for all people.  Seriously.  Another great benefit to eloping – no one person would be excluded anymore than anybody else. 

          By that time my father had passed away and my mom didn’t want me to elope.

          We had landed on our umpteenth date for September 18.  We had the marriage license; I had borrowed a white dress from mom (not her wedding dress though – as she had borrowed the one she had been married in) and ten days prior we learned the clergy (bishop) who would marry us would be out of town.  I was in tears.  Really – why all this stress.  If we ran off to Las Vegas, it would be over and done with and I wouldn’t have had to deal with such emotional turmoil.

          The next day I asked my bishop if he could marry us that or the following night.  So the groom, the guests, everybody who was a part of that wedding party got eight hours notice or less.  And you know what?  Everybody who had been invited came.

          We were married at our newly purchased house.  My mom stopped off at the store and purchased a cake that said “Congratulations!” and it worked.  Roland's favorite part about that night was that I didn't have to leave at a certain time; I was there to stay.

          There were still some who believed we should have a reception.  And so a month later we did – for them. We made up our own announcements and passed them out by hand.  I purchased some balloons and teddy bears for our decorations.  We found some appetizers on clearance and used that as our food.  And ward (Church) members rallied around us to assist with our needs. 

It was held in the building where my mom attends Church meetings. It was simple.  There was no line.  Very little expense.  And it worked.

          Before Kayla got married I went with her to a second hand store.  She purchased a wedding gown and veil that she has worn three times perhaps – she had posed for pictures in her wedding dress without her groom – and there are several more – over six hindered more of the bride and groom.

          The line was short.  No bridesmaids in one-time-wear bridesmaid dresses.  But if she had had bridesmaids she would have chosen a practical fabric and pattern that the bridesmaid would actually want to wear again.

          Her “flower girls” wore dresses which were already in closet – posed for pictures but did not stand in line. My family and I assisted in the kitchen.  It was held at the same building as my reception had been.  It was inexpensive.  And it worked.

          And I have been to some expensive weddings that really did have an awesome appearance and commercial feel almost.  And while I have made comment that, “Oh, this is nice.  Yes, it is beautiful” I really do feel a lot more comfortable with simple than with expense.  Which is good, I guess.  Being that expense has always been out of my reach.

          I have two daughters-in-law.  Well, two as of next week. 

My first daughter-in-law comes from a family who has had to deal with financial burdens just as we have.  Rochelle’s needs and ideas were very simple – and it showed.  The layout for the reception was very inexpensive.  Different family members had agreed to assist and/or take over with different parts of the reception – such as food, decorations, the cake, etc.  They held it at the Church (ward building) that she had attended. And it was a really nice reception.

          Rochelle was very willing to elope.  But she didn’t want to hurt her family members’ feelings.  Neither of her parents was in the greatest of health.  She had a simple wedding reception for them.  And her mom passed two months later.  So we have some great memories there with her mom.

Carrie’s tastes are a far cry from practical, I think.  According to Randy, Carrie’s family has already spent thousands of dollars on this wedding.  Thousands!  I cringe at the very thought.  If I had thousands, it certainly would not be spent for a onetime event.  I’d fix up the yard, have a lot more reliable transportation, fix the plumbing in the house (probably the plumbing would be my priority) get my printer fixed . . .

Carrie had asked Randy to ask if we could help with expenses.  Are you kidding me?  Don’t you think if we had the money we would have made the offer?  After all, she’s been to our rather small house before.  She’s seen our embarrassment of a yard. She’s seen what we use as transportation.  She may not know about the plumbing, but still . . . we didn’t spend that kind of money put together on the three weddings mentioned at the beginning of this post.  
Please.  It’s not that I don’t want to – well, I guess I don’t – but overall we really cannot help out with expenses because we just don’t have it.  We've been off and on welfare our entire married lives.  Mostly on it seems.

Randy doesn’t understand why we’re so financially strapped.  Hopefully he will never have to find our first-handedly about the high cost of divorce and what it’s like to hire attorneys and pay court costs and taxes and earn money that we never even see.  (Also more information for another post that will never get written.) Not to mention the economical slump they are calling a “repression”.

I like Carrie.  I do.  But her view of the world is so different from my own.  Different from her mother’s from what I understand.  The kind of girl that Randy would go for.  A trophy wife.  And I hope for both of their sakes that it will last. 

Sunny would not encourage anybody to elope.  She thinks that there should be many memories of that important day and that family and friends should be a part of it.  And I agree.  I wanted family and friends.  I didn’t want hype however.  And hype isn’t needed.  But for many brides it appears that the desire of the material things and show becomes more important than friends, family members, and even the groom. 

I’ve been to some weddings that have just seemed so superficial and showy, I wonder just who they’re trying to impress.  Themselves?  Do they think it’s worth it? And there are those who have been impressed with the results.  I, for one, am NOT impressed with the high cost of weddings.  I’d rather take my family on vacation somewhere.

 Different strokes.  Different folks.  If our finances are like they are now, Jenna’s will have to be simple (unless we can get her to elope)

Creative Solutions

          Whenever I have done a report or written a letter and I want to be specific about conveying my message, I have turned to my brother Corey for his input on how to change my wording so that it flows smoothly like his words always seem to.  My husband Roland does the same thing to me – asks me to type up his reports and change them around to convey his message.  So I asked Corey who he turned to . . . . He hasn’t said.

          I turn to Roland when I need a solution – he is very creative and can come up with answers.  So does my sister-in-law.  Both have such logical approaches and can introduce such awe at the same time.

          There have been times where something somehow didn’t make it into the plans – such as the spoons for ice cream during Jenna’s last birthday.    I told the children that superheroes would be able to find a way to eat without spoons.  So most chose to use their toothpicks – while Jenna licked hers up like a cat (somehow I just don’t see Wonder Woman actually doing that).

          One time (when I was younger) my family went to an amusement park with our cooler in tote.  The plan was for us to have a picnic.  We’d brought chicken, chips and potato salad – whoops.  We’d forgotten the utensils.  My dad’s creative solution was for each of us to dip our chips into the bowl and eat them along with the potato salad.  It is the only time I remember sharing a large bowl with all of my family.

          And then there’s the time when Roland took the boys to a fathers and sons outing.  Somehow they had managed to leave the house with the tent – but not the poles.  Ooki took this picture after my creative spouse came up with a solution on what to use and sent the four boys out to get it.  What a hoot!

          Roland comes up with solutions all of the time with various jobs he’s had, in making temporary repairs until we can financially afford something professional, in displaying food or decorations (this summer I will be posting one about the flag)

          I enjoy the creativity of others and the ability they are blessed with at resolving certain issues.

Boundaries and Languages of the LDS Church

          The words ward and stake refer to the geographical boundaries of those who belong to the LDS Church.  A certain number of members are assigned to a certain building.

          First off there is a chain of command.  Perhaps it might be easier to an individual to compare the chain of authority (but not the religion itself) to a business or military leadership, let’s say.

          The CEO or President does not show up in every store, in every franchise, in every company that she or he has built.  They hire staff who they hopefully communicate to.  They in turn hold meetings at their assigned areas and let their people know what the CEO expects. 

         

          The corporate moves from states to cities – with even more employees representing the different locations within the surrounding areas.  This is how the chain of command operates.  This is how the CEO communicates to his fellow worker.

          In the LDS Church there is a Prophet who is referred as President of the Church.  He in turn has counselors.  They preside over what is known as the twelve apostles who in turn preside over the Quorum of 70’s.

          Each member of the 70 is assigned to preside over certain regions.  A region is a geographical boundary which includes several stakes.  Each stake is divided into wards and branches (a branch includes a much smaller membership than does a ward) who in turn each have a bishop (or branch president) and counselors.  And the chain of command goes through each region, each stake, each ward, etc. The boundaries are included in the Church organization.

          Recently, when we had visited with Roland’s family, I was trying to explain this to one of my sisters-in-law.  Our youngest son, Randy, was also having a similar conversation with another family member.

          In the past I had typed up the address of where we were staying to find the address of a nearby Church – and usually had a choice of locations (as the site brought up at least three surrounding in the area) but this year it gave only one.  I did not question it until we were driving there.  I don’t remember it having been such a long drive the last time we were there.  We had gone to another building in the years prior. But after the meeting started, I realized that it was a meeting where we needed to be.

          The first speaker warned the congregation that even though LDS language is familiar to its members, for many outside of the Church some of our words are a bit foreign (just as most military terms are to me; Tony can use initials and military terms when speaking to Roland and he will understand them, but I will not)

          We refer to the youth Sunday school as “Primary”.  Primary means first in sequence, most important, basic, original and relating to early education.  All of these definitions fit what primary is in the LDS Church.  Our youth are important.  They learn the basics of the gospel.  They have activities in primary.  They sing songs.  It’s an introduction designed for children.  It is inviting to most children, really.

          The teenage group is referred to as Young Men/Young Women.  Back in my day it was referred to as MIA:  Mutual Improvement Association.  (though there is the joke of many youth who seem to be missing in action) It is a program designed to help the youth to stay on course and create goals and achieve them. 

          The programs purpose is to help build self-esteem and awareness and offers guidelines on how to conduct one’s self and how to face daily living.  There are youth activities during the week in addition to the lessons given on Sundays.

          The Relief Society: the oldest and largest women’s organization in this or any other dispensation.  It teaches strength and gives counsel on rearing one’s family, on loving ourselves, on loving one another, on teaching, on learning, and just on rejoicing in being a daughter of God.

          Within the Relief Society is the visiting teaching program.  This program was designed to strengthen the welfare of each sister.  Several sisters will be assigned to visit a certain amount of sisters and/or families in the ward once a month – just to see how they are doing, to report back any concerns, to stay in touch with those who may not be coming to Church for whatever reason.

          There is a lot more to mormonology.  This post doesn’t even begin to touch the surface.  But perhaps I’ve accomplished a few things with a few readers.  Hopefully anyway.

           

We All Need to Laugh

It is said that laughter is the best medicine.  And why not?  We are happy when we laugh.  We’re content.  We’re not expressing worry, stress or anger.  Laughter allows us to move on with our lives.

A family member on my husband’s side passed away unexpectedly.  The funeral is tomorrow and is out of state.  Initially we had considered getting a loan against the title of the unwanted truck and purchase a plane ticket – but the interest on the loan was outrageous; the airfare would be close to six hundred dollars.

We have over drafted in our bank account and so someone wired some money to Roland so that he could drive down – only it wasn’t enough.  A hundred dollars for a 12 plus hour drive (I don’t know how many miles) we were still going to have to borrow some money one way or another.

When we had gone for a visit just two short weeks ago (I made mention in my last post) we took my mom’s car.  As the car was not returned in superior condition, we didn’t bother to ask to borrow it again – although it is only Roland who is going and won’t be eating (or dripping) ice cream in the back seat. So for this next trip we have borrowed my sister’s car.

My husband can laugh at situations that others may find stressful.  And I admire that a lot.  It was just one frustrating thing after another of the events which took place this morning – well, midmorning.  He couldn’t leave as early as he would have hoped.  It was a matter of running around all morning from location to location and searching the internet and double checking.

Not only did it put him behind, but I had told my sister I would pick her up before noon and because our simple plans turned into complicated hassle, I was late with meeting her.

It was a comedy of errors from Roland’s point of view.  He didn’t get out of the city until just before 12:00.  Just before.  He won’t get to his sister’s house until after midnight.  I hope that they will call his phone instead of mine.  I plan to be in bed.

Why did I borrow my sister’s car if I have one – and a truck?  They’re unreliable.  If they should happen to break down, I would rather have it be in the city where there is a mechanic nearby.  The route between our house and his sisters is mostly desolate.  Not a lot of mechanics or rescue crews.  Besides Kayla’s car is better on gas and her gas gage isn’t broken.

I love Roland and his sense of direction – not just on the roads, but in life.  I need to lighten up and laugh more.  He’s great.

Make Every Second Count: You just Never Know

          Two weeks ago we left the state to be with Roland’s family.  We spent most of Friday driving, checked into a room and spent two days there.

          We didn’t meet up with the family until after 4:00 pm on Saturday.  Roland and his brother had both come from out of state to celebrate their mom’s 85^th birthday.

          The eldest sister had actually sent the invitations out in January.  We had told her repeatedly that we just didn’t have the finances.  And just the week prior, we didn’t even have reliable transportation.  We ended up borrowing my mom’s car and our expenses were paid for.

          There was Elvis, and dancing, and hugs, and kisses and a tremendous surprise.  Roland’s mom had an exceptional birthday.  Cameras went off in all directions.  I would guess over 600 flashes – but that’s just a guess. 

          The next morning we posed mom and four of her five children (there was one who was unable to attend) before Roland’s brother and his wife returned to their home state.  More pictures were taken with I don’t know how many cameras.  It is nice to have those memories.  Especially now.

          Last night the family called to tell us of Roland’s older sister’s passing.  It was so unexpected.  I am still bewildered over the news.  Who knew that all of those pictures would show her in her final moments?  Wonderful, happy photographs of the very last memories we will have of her.

          We’d gone down visit before.  Maybe every other year.  Twice to bring mom back for a visit, once for the funeral of Roland’s uncle. 

          I’ve been to a lot of funerals during my lifetime.  Most have been LDS.  I like LDS funerals.  I can’t say the same for non LDS. I think I’ve been to about five that have been of another denomination.  And with each of them it has felt cold and so non-personal to me.  For it seems that anyone could be lying in that casket and the sermon would be exactly the same.

          Not all LDS funerals leave one feeling good about the person or the way the arrangements were made – but for the most part (at least in my experience) LDS funerals are beautiful and filled with love and devotion.  For the most part, even if you may not be familiar with the deceased, by the time the services end, you will know something.

          We sat around for two hours at Uncle Gil’s.  There was a small amount of hushed visiting and family members taking a break for their smokes and returning to the mostly empty pews.

          With most LDS funerals I have attended, there is a viewing beforehand.  And there has always been a line.

          The services are usually done by friends or family members – remembering and honoring those that have passed on.

          The Relief Society (women’s organization) rallies around the family – often providing the family with a meal for after the services.

          Roland’s family doesn’t have any of that.  They could.  But choose not to.  For Uncle Gil they hired a preacher, a minister, a man of the cloth – I actually don’t know what his title was.  A handsome sum of money was donated by the family members who might attend on Christmas and Easter (if that)  It felt as though they were trying to buy Uncle Gil’s way into heaven.

          I think the family would find a lot more comfort if they were to allow Roland and myself to conduct – because we would honor his sister by holding the kind of funeral that I am used to attending.

          I’ve given talks at funerals before.  I spoke at my great-grandmothers, my grandma’s and my dad’s.  I thought my dad’s was wonderful.  I talked a bit about daddy’s childhood and how he had met my mom.  Patrick took over with honoring him as a family man. 

          Corey was out of the country at the time.  We played a message that he had recorded prior to my father’s death.  And Kayla (who was in her last year at high school) sang “My Father’s Eyes” There was music.  It was a really nice service.

          After Bill’s (my brother-in-law) first wife died, I learned things about her that I hadn’t known before her passing. There were some really nice talks at that one as well.

          There are many LDS funerals that seem to go on and on – but as a whole, I think they are nice tributes and find a lot more comfort in them than these “impersonal sermons” as I call them.  I just don’t find the same sense of peace that I do with LDS funerals.

          We are still awaiting details.  But these are my thoughts at this time.  

Silent Heroes

There are several variations of what may come to one’s mind when visualizing his or her perception of a hero.  There are comic book heroes such as Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, or even Word Girl.

Many people have benefitted from the heroic actions of the police, firefighters, soldiers, etc.  It is the uniformed men or women whom they see as heroes.  And they are, and deserve to be recognized.

         

          There are “heroes” who do it for the glory – just to be recognized as heroes.  And there are the silent heroes who work behind the scenes, who don’t ask for recognition, many who would prefer not to bask in the glory.  These are the true heroes.

          Roland is one of those heroes.  He does things out of nature – not because he’s seeking a reward or glory.  He just does things because they need to be done.

          For example, he’s really not mechanically minded, but he will stop to give people a lift or assist where able – whether he actually knows the person (or people) or not.

          One time (many years ago) he noticed an acquaintance waiting at the bus stop.  He offered her a lift just because of his nature.  But for her, it was a heroic act of rescue.  Neither of us knows all the details and so it is only speculation as to whether she woke up late, her car wasn’t running, she had barely missed the bus . . . whatever. 

She  has been grateful to Roland for his actions all this time – and it really wasn’t a recent thing.  Maybe 30 years ago?  Maybe longer.  An incident that Roland probably thought nothing about even in that moment, but in that moment he had become her hero.  And she has never forgotten.

My dad was a hero just by his example – supporting each of us in our dreams – supporting us from “behind the curtains” never feeling the need to set foot upon the stage himself.  And really not wanting to.  He didn’t have a desire for the praise. 

He was wise with money and knew how to budget and provide.  We may not have been financially wealthy, but daddy kept the family together and saw to it that we would take a family vacation each year. Daddy was a silent hero.

I remember being stranded on the road myself.  Kayla and Corey were with me.  Kayla was maybe about five or six.  We didn’t have cell phones then – and payphones were only a dime.  With the car (I believe I was driving the one that belonged to my grandmother, actually) pulled over to the side, I took each of the kids’ hands and started walking.  A man pulled over to see if we needed a lift.

As I pushed Kayla and Corey into the car, I thought: “What am I doing?  I don’t know this man.  He could just try to steal us and hold us for ransom”

But this “grandpa” who had picked us up became my hero for a moment.  As it turned out he really didn’t live too far from my grandma. 

And there’s another time when my neighbor was stranded on the freeway – with at least six kids in the car.  It was the “hippy era” and those long haired freaks had earned a reputation among the older generation which was less than flattering.  But it was two of those long haired “freaks” that helped us to move along.

And then there are the occasional customer service representatives who are serious about resolving my concerns.  Those are true heroes for making me feel like I am more important than a paycheck.

Strange how such little actions on our part can have such a huge impact on somebody else’s.

I.R.S. = It Really Sucks

          After our youngest son, Randy, returned home from his mission, he decided to open an account at the credit union.  To complete the process, a driver’s license or picture ID with a valid address was required.  No problem.  His DL had expired and going to the DLD was also on the agenda.

          But he still needed proof of address.  We had moved and his old DL revealed the old address.  He was asked for something to prove his new address – like a bank statement.  Are you kidding me?  It was like a no win situation.

          Recently, (even though we had actually filed our taxes a month early this year) we were asked to include Randy’s FASFA on our taxes.  Randy had not completed his FASFA as he was waiting for the results on our taxes.

          I never fully understood that old cliché that says we can’t have our cake and eat it, too.  Seems like in those last two scenarios we can neither have nor eat.  We can only view whatever cake others may have or are eating. 

          It’s like being told by a podiatrist to stay off your feet (by walking) in order to let them heal – but that you should exercise your feet in order to give them strength.  Huh?  It’s either one or the other.  How can a person seriously do both?

          This is the first year in mine and Roland's married life that we actually have a tax refund.  But we also owe back taxes. We owe this. We owe that.  We will never even see our refund.  It would be nice if we could pick who gets it.  But at least the debt will be lessened in one way or the other.

I am a Summer Scrooge

          I don’t mind sunshine.  I can drive when the sun is out and lighting my path.  There are a huge number of summer activities that I do enjoy.  I just don’t care for the heat.  I would rather have it cool.

          April hasn’t even ended, and already I’m changing my perspirated drenched clothes two or three times a day.  What am I going to do in July?  If it’s above 72 degrees I am an ogre. 

          Even the dog is panting after hours of sleeping.  Our walks now have to happen before school.  Just two weeks ago it was midday because it was too cold in the morning.  I think if the weather were to change gradually (maybe just one degree every other day) it wouldn’t be so bad.  This 20 – 40 degree jump has got to go.

          I enjoy having an A/C and fans.  I like the coolness of water and being splashed. I would still rather have the crisp air of fall though.

The Left Lane is for Passing

          Last May the bishop (leader) of our ward (Church boundary) had some major health problems along with his second counselor.  My husband, who was serving as the High Priest Group Leader, said to me that if the bishop had passed away during that time, the mantle would have been handed to him and he would have had to step into the bishop’s shoes (metaphorically speaking) until a new one was called.

          I don’t know how soon the first counselor (at the time of our ailing bishop) was called to take over the position of bishop.  But my husband was called as his first counselor.  It was to be his fourth calling in less than two years.

          But his second counselor holds the record of short lived callings.  He had been called as a Sunday School teacher – I don’t know for how many months.  He was released in order to serve as a counselor in the Elder’s Quorum.  The week after he was put in the Elder’s Quorum position, it was announced that he would be the new second counselor of the bishopric.  He had lived in the ward for only six months.

          So last June we got our new bishopric: our 32 year old Caucasian bishop, my 56 year old husband (of Hispanic decent) and a 34 year old fireball from the Philippines  Our new bishopric resembled that of an Oreo Cookie.

This last Friday the second counselor and his wife moved out of the ward.  We all knew it was coming.  Today they spoke in Sacrament meeting.

          The first speaker was his wife – she gave an awesome talk about staying on course.  She had two comparisons of wanting to “change lanes” and trying to “hurry things along”.

          Her first example was/is one that many of us are guilty of.  We drop by the store to pick up whatever. We happen to be in a hurry and the lines are seemingly never-ending long. (She must have been at a Wal-Mart)

          The specific example she used was a woman with a fidgety child.  She was in the express line and saw another line open up – but was still behind two or three people.  And for whatever reason, the line stopped moving.

          The child continued to fidget and the woman jumped in and out of lines causing her more anguish.  As the speaker checked out, she looked back to see the woman behind three groups of people.  If she had just stayed in line to begin with, she would have been next.

          The other example she used was in passing trucks on the highway.  She has learned that when she is in the left hand lane and she sees a semi signal to come over, she will allow it to come into her lane knowing that once it has passed its obstacle, it will go back over into the right.

   

      

          She says that non-understanding drivers will be upset that she has allowed a truck in and will attempt to pass both of them, swerve into the right hand lane, floor it and will have to slam on the breaks in order to avoid the obstacle that the truck driver was trying to avoid in the first place.

          So instead of passing this speaker and the truck, the “hurried” driver has to wait for the truck, the speaker, and whatever cars behind her before he or she can move back into the left lane – which defeats the purpose for having gone into the right lane to begin with.

          What’s the big deal?  Sure, being behind a truck is not always ideal – but a truck in the left lane is not going to be in the left lane for very long.  Trucking takes experience.  The drivers have a better view of things from where they are sitting.  Sometimes we need to trust that they know what they’re doing and show a little patience.

          Same with our Father in Heaven.  He can see a whole lot further down the road than we can.  We need to trust in Him and stay on course and not be in a hurry to get around what we think is unnecessary.  If we just accept the “slowness” as part of the plan to begin with and stay on course, our journey will be a lot smoother.

          The speaker compared moments in her life when she herself wanted to switch lanes thinking they might get her to her spiritual destination at a faster pace, but would end up becoming discouraged or frustrated, but would have a better understanding about WHY when she finally did arrive where she thought she wanted to go.  And continues to go.

          She’s experienced so much anxiety over this last move – not wanting to leave but needing to.  And now that they are moved she is more at peace.  And now has a better understanding at staying on course and having faith in God who is ahead of us seeing all.

          It was a really good talk.  I did have more to go with my notes.  Rather than elaborate further though, I can create some new posts out of what’s remaining.

No, you DON’T have my permission

          I’m not an avid facebook user.  In fact, the more “improvements” that are made, the less I use.  I haven’t deleted myself.  For one, I haven’t figured out how.  And I still like to look at pictures.  Especially when I know my brother-in-law is going to be posting better pictures from an event that my camera just doesn’t capture.

          Truth is the novelty wore off for me about two months after I opened my account.  And now with facebook controlling which posts I view or what might be important to me (the pictures copied from wall to wall to wall with humorous captions are NOT what I would pick to clutter up my home page.  I would like to hear (or read) about how life is going for my friends – but then with all this new rig-o-moral, maybe everyone has decided not to include anything personal whatsoever)

          Now it just seems so complicated just to stay on facebook. What’s up with this: “you have been invited to” or so and so “sent you a request” and then you have to leave the fb page and give your permission to surrender whatever photos or information you have posted to fb (like is it really private – seriously) and as I don’t want to do that, I don’t ever go into the application (take birthday calendar request for instance) and I would like people to get reminders if they really would like to wish me happy birthday (as I enjoy having the application to remind me) but not at the expense of surrendering my photos.  But at the same time, if I truly feel that way, I shouldn’t be posting them in the first place)

          I have finally inserted pictures onto the posts that I’ve written thus far –mostly ones that I’ve “borrowed” from Google.  I respect the ones that have copyright right on the photo – but I don’t always see what lies underneath.  And just because it’s marked “copyright” doesn’t mean someone else may try and use it and just crop off the “copyright”

          So I’ve been hesitant about using my own photos – not so much landscape.  I don’t care about those.  I have an adorable one of Jenna making an “angry face”.  It’s an older photo.  She’s grown a lot since then. But her expression cracks me up. I have shared it here  At the same time I don’t wish to risk desecration to my photos when other people use Google and decide to use her picture for themselves in an offensive way.

I actually don’t have a problem with people using my photos – so long as they don’t desecrate them.  Once I put them on Google or facebook, I feel like I have lost control of that.

As Different as Mustard and Aqua Velva

         The refrigerator in Sunny and Patrick’s house is buried in photographs and wonderful thoughts.  Family is very important to them and they are on display at all times.

          Children’s art work decorates the walls above the dining room table and there are portraits upon the piano.  The house is decorated nicely, and the feel is one of warmth and love.  It is inviting.  It says that their children are important and family matters.  It is welcoming and full of joy and positive self-esteem.

          Grandma also keeps photographs and art work.  Her refrigerator is covered with magnets that hold up treasured memories.  There are pictures in every room showing off her grandkids, her children, their spouses, etc.  It says that her posterity is important and it is good for our self-esteem.

          Kayla and I both live in Cracker Box houses.  We both have more stuff than we do space.  And though we’ve had different family members over at different times, neither one of us is equipped for having the whole family over. It would be like trying to cram 15 of us in a walk in closet or as comfortable as eight people stuffed in a Volks Wagon bug for 25 miles.

          But still we have the comforts of our family in photographs – and display our posterity in a positive way.  Anna likes to move the magnets around on the refrigerator and Jenna likes to hang her art.  And I have scanned many of her drawings and crafts since she was three. 

          We’re a bit cluttered at times.  Actually more clutter than I would like.  It’s livable.  Our children know they’re important. 

          We have barbeques on occasion.  We have done other family activities as well.  We keep in contact through e-mail, through phone, in person.  We are a close knit family.  We are in my opinion.  But every family is different.

          Recently we visited with Roland’s family.  He has three sisters and a brother.  All three sisters are older.  His mom happens to live with the youngest of the three girls.

I had been to her house before.  Each time we’ve gone it seems to have been redecorated.  This year the display was showcased to perfection.  Tons of candles and pottery and decorative STUFF – nothing personal about it.  It was how you’d want your home to look to potential buyers.  It was how you would want it to look for the media.  It was sterile.

She used to have photographs upstairs and along the hall.  But they got moved – pushed back on some shelves in the corner.  You would have to literally move the desk and each picture in order to view them all.  No kids’ art.  NOTHING on the refrigerator.  Nothing seemed inviting – to me anyway.  It was all material.

They have five adults living under one roof (plus two children; and constant visits from their three grandchildren and their parents) and have five TVs (at least two of them are on 24-7 whether they are even being watched or not – usually not) and at least four or five computers (none of them updated however.  That’s a surprise – but then they really don’t spend that much time on it; I would guess the kids do more than anyone else)

And yet I know they love their family members.  (We’d gone to another state for mom’s surprise party – and our room and gas were all paid for before we had even arrived) and spend huge amounts of time together.  But there is no memorabilia.  Nothing that stands out to build self esteem.  And I wonder how much of a difference it would even make to them.

They love to dance.  They love to party.  They love to drink.  They don’t much care for religion.  If they want a message, they can watch the evangelists on TV. 

To say our families are as different as day and night would not only be cliché – our families are more drastically different than I think night and day are.

They love and admire our boys.  Richard’s done well at bringing them up, they say.  Richard tries to explain that it’s not solely just himself but the values taught in the gospel.  They don’t want to hear it.

Their understanding is that God knows them.  They’re not out killing anybody.  They are decent human beings.  They’ve got it made just fine without religion.

My family members are active and hold church callings and are dedicated – not just on Sunday, but every day.  Three hours is too long for Richard’s family – and to extend it to the entire week?  Uh –uh. 

They are good people.  Just an entire different comfort zone – for them.  But Not for me.  I like the photographs and the religious values and spending time with family without booze.  I’m certain that they would be just as uncomfortable in my world.

Those Poor Confused Geese

          I’m walking my dog at the park when two geese started honking.  Highness hadn’t even noticed them until they brought it to his attention that they were there.  So of course he starts yowling and the geese took off and started circling the park – honking loudly as they flew.

          Now since I don’t speak geese, I don’t know if they were warning other birds that there was a crazy dog in the park or if they were announcing: “No – it doesn’t appear to be springtime over here, either.”

Or if they were just lost from their flock and asking others to make themselves known.

It’s supposed to be springtime huh?  According to the goose’s bodily calendar, it is time to end their southern vacation and get back to work in the north.  But the elements just don’t jive with their predictions.  And it’s frustrating.

But geese are not the only ones to suffer here.  It is every driver in the road who encounters poly cones and orange barrels, signs that say “Road Closed” and “Men at Work”.

Actually I haven’t seen the “Men at Work” signs this year.  I suppose after the elements they have faced the last few years, it is better just not to post them than to have the public say, “Where?  I don’t see anybody working”

It rains.  The sun shines.  The wind blows.  Sometimes all within five minutes of each other. It can be very frustrating.

That’s how it’s been every year I have tried to plan Jenna’s birthday.  Everybody wore coats on her sixth birthday when we had the clown.  I finally had a back up this year.  And so we held it indoors.  Guess what.  The weather was nice.

I hope the geese realize that it’s not just them.  We have all experienced a degree of questioning Mother Nature.