Beneath the Wraps

          After high school I got a job at my dad’s work ( an insurance company )   as a file clerk.  It was back in the days where not everyone had a personalized computer.  And the computer that my dad worked on (he was a computer programmer) was one of those ancient wall to wall machines that look along the lines of a horrible sci-fi.           My job was to pull microfiche, file microfiche, scan documents to be cut and inserted into microfiche, and to cut and insert.  Mostly I pulled or filed.  I rarely ever cut and insert.  I actually may have done it only once.           We were located in an ancient building which used to be a lodge for the lions (probably at the very moment they were founded) The company outgrew that building and moved to a much nicer location only eight blocks away....

          I think everybody ought to have the opportunity of waiting tables for at least two months.  Some may have to do it longer to really appreciate what hard work for little wages really is.  Although I don’t know if it’s quite as feast or famine as it used to be.            My second job was at the ice cream parlor where my mom worked.  I was probably there longer than any other job.  I think I started out at 2.67 an hour.  Milkshakes were less than two on the menu. I’d seen the prices going up quite often.  Wish my paycheck had been increased as rapidly. I mostly worked weekends and one or two nights during the week.  I would come in at 6:00 or 8:00 and work until after closing.  Everybody did everything and tips were split among all of those who worked that shift.  Our assignments consisted of being host or hostess (seating...

          I don’t remember leaning toward a specific career.  I took on jobs just to get by.  My first few jobs were just for spending money.  It seemed to have a more grown up feel than just doing chores.           I received my first job when I was 13 or 14 years old.  I delivered a weekly newspaper.  Informative scoops about events in the surrounding community.  It was called the Green Sheet.  I delivered it on Thursday mornings for about a year.  And then I stopped.           My second job was at the ice cream parlor where my mom worked.  I was probably there longer than any other job.  (More on that in its own post) I was there before college, after college, before the mission, after the mission . . . and even while I was working at other jobs.           Se...

          So often we look at others’ lives and wish they were our own – or that we could have that kind of luxury or peace or knowledge or whatever.  For the most part we only see just one piece of the puzzle.  We see what we perceive as beautiful and elegant and glamorous; we don’t see the struggles behind whatever it is that we think we envy.           Everybody has struggles.  Those that don’t or think they don't are at a disadvantage because they aren’t growing.  We all make sacrifices.  Little day to day things.  Sacrificing the doughnut as a result of better health.  Giving up a bit of time each month to contribute to your child’s education or the welfare of those in your neighborhood or church.  Not spending money on one’s self but giving it to another who’s more in need – though it often feels like the finances of the giver are even les...

I love this recording by Petula Clark.  Unfortunately the video is actually quite boring to watch.  Thus I’ve include the lyrics by Tony Hatch and Jackie Trent so you can follow along as you listen. Life is never what it seems   We're always searching in our dreams   To find that little castle in the air   When worry starts to cloud the mind,   It's hard to leave it all behind   And just pretend you haven't got a care   There's someone else in your imagination   You wish that you were standing in their shoes   You'd change your life without much hesitation   But would you if you really had to choose?   So, don't look around   Get your feet on the ground   It's much better by far   To be just who you are   The other man's grass is always greener   The sun shines brighter on the other side   The other man's grass is always greener   Some are lucky, some are not ...

          My mom has dementia. Normally I visit her on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  This week I happened to drop by on Wednesday evening as well.  Since she had seen me three times in a row, yesterday morning I jokingly asked, “Are you tired of me showing up on your doorstep?”           Quite relieved, she said, “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here.  I’ve been by myself all day!”  It was 10:00 a.m.           “Well, [Corey]’s here,”           “No.  [Corey] went to Las Vegas.  And I don’t know when he’ll be back.  But it sounds like he will be gone for a long time.”           “Well, his car’s out front.”           “Oh, is it?  Well he must have taken the train to Las Vega...

These are not my words - but there is certainly power and I wanted to share with any who may be following: I wish that we would all apply this to our lives.

           Shortly after Roland was called to the bishopric, he was asked to summarize a talk that had been given about the conformity of testimonies and submit it to the monthly newsletter – which actually didn’t exist before this particular bishopric.  Now there are a few people in the ward who tend to drone on and on until the gratitude that is felt in their hearts turns into penetrating boredom on the part of the audience.  Every ward has them.  They start off by expressing what it is that brought them to the podium – and then they take us on a stroll down memory lane, or into their health, or into their entire week.  Gradually the testimony gets lost in their words.  And all eyes turn to the clock and you can almost hear a chorus of silent groans. Sometimes there is a dead silence and often times the droner just feels it’s his (or her) duty to fill the silence while the audience wonders which is worse: the sil...

Ode to Skool Lunch I was working downtown when I first met you And you were fabulous! You welcomed me with your awesome deliciousness.  How your scents penetrated in my nose and I thought I had found true love,  but alas I did not visit you often.  Oh, I wanted to – I wanted to savor the succulence on a daily basis – only there was a hole in my wallet.  I was allowed to visit just once in a while and you were always so good to me.  But you always left me wanting more. How I craved for that Wonderful chicken salad and baked goods that would satisfy my pallet. Years passed.  I was no longer downtown but at the other end of the valley.  Imagine my delight when I found you near my work. Good food.  Good company. I introduced you to my friends.    We saw you just a few times but still not often.  And then I got married.  My finances we...

          When Jenna and her classmate left the car this morning, they were talking about doughnuts – more specifically doughnut holes.            I took Highness for a walk and smiled as I thought at a memory about disappearing doughnuts.           My brother Corey and I are nine years apart.  We seem to share a lot in common – particularly food habits.  Eating whatever is quick or handy.  Our kitchen skills were not the greatest. Plus we both appeared to be on the lazy side. We also have a brother Patrick – who is two years younger than I and our baby sister, Kayla, who is thirteen years younger. They are both survivor’s. And both were quite comfortable in the kitchen from an early age.           When we were younger, we used to taunt Corey by saying that Kayla could be out in the dess...

          When Corey started his Blog over six years ago, he gave himself a false identity.  He’s since been discovered by some, and I know from my own mouth there are even more that know the nature of his true identity.  However, because he hadn’t revealed his true identity on his Blog (there are certain individuals he still feel might need protection having their real identities revealed out of connection) I decided to keep mine anonymous also.           I have changed the names of most of those I have or will mention.  I started out using “Cody” instead of “Corey” but “Cody” was/is his name, not mine.  So I changed it.  And now it doesn’t seem to matter one way or another.  He’s out and those mentioned may not need his protection anymore – though he continues with his name and only partial pictures. I also keep myself anonymous for fact that Roland’s...