Cleanliness is Next to Godliness – Don’t ya Know?

I think I must post about cleaning the church at least once every four months.  I don’t mind cleaning the church building.  I really don’t.  There have just been some weeks in which I have been appalled over the tremendous amount of litter that is left behind. How can people be so careless and not take any consideration that they are in God’s house?

         Today I put myself in charge of vacuuming the chapel – which is what Bro. McDobb had done every Saturday morning in which our ward had been assigned to clean the building.  Roland joked that he wouldn’t have been surprised to find him there this morning – even though he moved out of our ward over two weeks ago.

         Programs had been left on several pews.  I get it.  I’m sure I am guilty of that as well – though I have tried to make a conscience effort to check the pew before I leave.  Usually I’m making certain that Jenna hasn’t left a mess on the floor or in the pew.

         I couldn’t explain any of the torn paper on the floor or candy wrappers and lollipop sticks.  Come on!  This is the chapel, not a picnic area!  Many children were given treats for whatever reason.  The snacks provided seemed to produce a tremendous amount of crumbs – not just where the congregation sits.  Bro. Drake, who came to assist me in the chapel, said they were behind the pulpit as well.  He and another brother joked about the bishop eating crackers and then moved on to believing perhaps a primary program had been involved.

         Ladies and Gentlemen – last Sunday was FAST SUNDAY – therefore there should have been NO FOOD distributed.  So either none of the members (of the last ward which meets in the building) fasted last week – or else it was broken during Sacrament meeting.  Or (here’s the most logical explanation) the first ward that meets in the building (and had been assigned to clean the building last month) failed at cleaning the building AGAIN.

         Bro. Drake had the stupid upright that was designed to glide be moved between the pews.  I had a cool canister that actually reminded me of the one that Wilma Flintstone used – only without the attitude.  But I probably had enough attitude for both of us.

 

         Brother Drake said that someone had put something that looked like sawdust upon all of the folding chairs set up in one of the class rooms.  I remember cleaning up a similar mess in the scout/storage room.  Only two small glitters to behold and not the obscene amount that I have had to deal with before.

         I had wanted to go to the garden before the church.  There is a lot more shade at 7:00 a.m. than at 9:00.  I had forgotten to bring hats.  Roland and I have decided to just do the community garden this year.  Roland is busy with other things and I don’t want to make the time to try and do a home garden on my own.  I get enough sun just in waiting for the bus. The community garden will be enough this year, thank you very much.

         It has been well over ten hours since I started this post.  I’ve actually experienced a lot more wearing out.  I’ll have to save it for another post.  I am pooped. 

People Come and People Go and Life Goes On

         
 I think I may have mentioned it in an earlier post that I grew up in a more established neighborhood.   Not a lot in the way of comings and goings – not that I can remember.

          The first person I remember moving out of our ward was a girl named Diane.  I don’t know under what circumstances she moved.  I didn’t take it into consideration that there had been other people in the house who had moved with her.  It actually wasn’t a very big house.  Perhaps they needed more room. 

          When I was in Young Women’s, I can remember a family moving into that same house. They must have had five at the time and Grace was pregnant with number six.  I remember being called upon to babysit. I think all of the young women received a turn at one time or another – until the two oldest were old enough to watch the other four on their own.

          Eventually they outgrew the house and moved – but only across the street.  That was the most fantastic move ever!  They never left our ward (church boundary)! Well, each of their children left at some point after they got married.  But at least two of them also bought houses in the ward and currently live in the same ward where their parents live.

          There were some people we were actually happy to see move out – like the hellions across the street or the dysfunctional psychiatric messes that lived near the field (which is now part of I-215) and others we hoped would never leave.

          When Roland and I got married, we moved into a rather transient area.  One of our bishops had compared our ward boundaries to a great big apartment building.  There were always homes for sale on every street (still are, I would imagine).  There were names of members who may have lived in the ward at one time but had long since moved away but their records continued to return to our ward clerk.  I bet that must be a frustrating job!

          My theory was that no matter how much I loved the house itself, I couldn’t or wouldn’t make a purchase without first checking out the ward we’d attend.  The church was just across the street from the house we’d been looking at – actually three houses – all within the same ward boundaries – although we weren’t aware of it at the time. I had been told by at least three ward members that we had been prayed to move into that ward. 

          I was teaching primary and one of the cute little girls in my class said, “Sister, please don’t ever move.  I want you to stay here forever” I don’t know if she mentioned it to her parents as well.
         
          Many of the homes in that particular area were starter homes – originally designed as military housing for soldiers who would move on.  They weren’t meant to be permanent.  They weren’t designed for families of more than four.  So when Wendy became pregnant with her forth child, they looked for another home and my primary girl moved away from the ward long before I did.

          I think it worked out well for her as she loves horses and had the opportunity of riding her neighbor’s horse that lived just behind the house they had purchased.  She’s graduated high school now.  I can’t believe it’s been that long.

          Roland’s original plan was to live in Kearns for five years and move to a house that we didn’t have to just settle for because of finances.  We were there eight years before we lost the house to an unkind economy and forced to move to something even smaller and start over. But again, we felt continued blessings and were aware of our needing to be in the current ward we are in.

          So our family has been new move-ins twice now.  In Kearns the ward got to know the boys.  Over here they know Roland and Jenna.  And we have seen a ton of people come and go.

          Shortly after we had moved to the ward, Roland was called as a counselor to the Elders’ Quorum.  When the Elders’ Quorum president moved, we were not surprised to receive a call from the Stake President – figuring Roland would be called to take place as the new EQ President.  We were surprised to learn that it had nothing to do with the Elders’ Quorum.  He served as a counselor to the High Priest Group leader and then the High Priest Group Leader moved.

          Through it all was George McDobb – who said he had lived in the ward for ten years.  I don’t know if he helped clean the building all ten years, but I know he’s done the last five.  He has always come early and put himself in charge of cleaning the chapel.  I don’t think he missed a single week when our ward was in charge.  Now he’s gotten himself married and has moved out of the ward.  I will miss him tremendously, but I am happy for him.  And I will be happy to take my turn in the chapel because that’s what I liked to do when we lived in Kearns.

          It always seems harder on the youth when friends move.  Jenna’s best friend last year was named Annette.  Annette moved during the summer – she thinks to Ohio or Idaho.  I left several messages for her mom to leave an address so that they might be able to correspond.  We even mailed a letter to their old address with instructions to forward to the new address – but still have not heard back. 

          Today she told me the girl she’s hung out the most this year is moving to California.  How fortunate I feel to have taken pictures of the two of them on Saturday.  They were the only two from their school to run in the Girls on the Run 5K.  I did get her grandma’s email so perhaps we’ll have better luck.  I hope so anyway. At least when Jenna's friend, Lillian, moved, her mom continued to keep her at the same school.

          People come.  People go.  People may stay put and the boundaries may change.  There was a member from my last ward that said she had lived in the same house for over 30 years and had been a member of two stakes and eight different wards while living in that same house.  That was hard for her.  But I think I would enjoy the diversity.  It’s never happened with me personally, so I don’t know.

          My sister Kayla lives in the same stake, but a different ward than when I left.  I’m told that there are many who are inactive in that particular ward – which is odd because when I lived there, it appeared there was more activity in that ward than in our ward.  Again, the comings and goings have made an imprint or left a hole.

          I hope that I am always able to leave imprints and a positive influence and that I am missed – but not so much that it leaves a hole.  We need to share our talents and learn from one another and be able to move on.  

Flawed Features and Pink Explosion

                  When I was very young (like in first and second grade) my cousins lived not far from Highland High School and Sugarhouse Park.  Aunt Fern and mom would often take us to Sugarhouse Park as it was so near by.  Problem was that the trees were not mature (as they were not much larger than us kids) and thus the park did not provide much (if any) in the way of shade. 

         Sugar House seemed to be an older area overall, but it seemed the park was fairly new.  I vaguely remember a playground.  My cousins and I must have spent time rolling down the hill – although I haven’t run across any photos of us at that particular park. 

         I wonder if the main objective for our moms was to take us to the park was to wear us down.  I wonder if it backfired as I am guessing that we must have worn our mothers out.  We must have run them ragged as they tried to keep an eye on us  or just keep up.  I wish I had more details about just what we did.

         Neither my cousins nor my brother made fun of my feet, but I was teased by other kids from school because of my “pigeon toes” .  Mom had taken me to the doctor and had been told that my knee bones turned in one way and either my pelvic bone or ankle bone turned another.  He could correct one or the other, but the only way he could correct both was to break my bones and reset them.  The procedure would have been a rather expensive one and I would have to learn to walk all over again.  Needless to say, I still have the same bone structure and problems.

         To help me to be less pigeon toed, mom took me to stride rite for corrective shoes.  I HATED having only three pairs to choose from.  All saddle shoes – which reminded me of bowling shoes.  I wasn’t happy with having to wear what I considered very dorky looking shoes.  On top of the dorky saddle shoes, I had to have inserts called “cookies” which would lift my foot at one side in order to straighten the problem.

         When my sister Kayla started walking, mom expressed her concern with her pigeon toes and explained my condition.  Kayla’s doctor prescribed a brace that attached to the shoes.  She would have to sleep with it during the night.  I always felt bad for her, but realized it would be better to deal with it as a baby (who’s not even going to remember)  rather than have to deal with the hurtful peer pressure at school. 

         When Jenna started walking, I noticed that her right foot turned.  I mentioned it to her doctor but her doctor dismissed it believing it was something she ‘d outgrow.  I then related my concerns that I had experienced myself and the solution we had used on Kayla.  I don’t know why I didn’t bother searching for a second opinion – probably my financial situation – or lack of it rather. 

         I guess after a while I had stopped noticing.  I had forgotten that she had once walked with her right foot turned in until just the other day.  She was wearing flip flops and though her right flip flop appeared to be moving straight ahead, her right foot hung over the left side.  I believe she has tripped over her own foot as I probably had in my youth.

         Jenna was told by her dentist that she had perfect teeth.  I don’t think I ever received the same compliment when I was her age.  I had an overbite among other problems.

I look through old photos, I have never seen a perfect mouth.  I don’t know how old I was when I had my accident on the monkey bars or exactly how it happened.  Must have let go or something.  My mouth came down hard over one of the bars.  I chipped my two front teeth.  My right tooth was chipped more noticeably than my left.  I was embarrassed by it and would smile with my mouth closed so as not to reveal my ugliness.

         My grandma Helen offered to pay for braces for my mouth.  Almost three years of humiliating pain.  Every time I would finally develop a toleration to having each tooth surrounded by medal , I would have to return to the orthodontist to have the braces tightened.

         In addition to the braces I was supposed to wear a dorky headgear – at least at night while I slept.  Oh, yes.  That was fun.

         I don’t know how much time had passed between my braces and capped teeth to porcelin repair.  My mouth does look better than it once did. Thank you mom, dad and grandma!

         When I had school picture taken, mom made me promise I would smile with my lips open – that way if my child ever needed braces I would be able to show him or her the picture to show that braces were not so bad.  Oh, right.  Each picture I had taken may send my child running and screaming.  Then again the braces today don’t seem to be so obvious as what was the only style back then.  Perhaps if Jenna did need braces she would be able to recognize that she would never look as horrible at mom did.

That Tooth Fairy Better Darn Well Leave a Huge Amount of Riches Tonight.

As I have mentioned in this post  Jenna LOVES to go to the dentist.  Seriously.  Often times when she says she really has to go to the dentist, I treat it much like “the Little Boy who Cried Wolf” I never really know whether she needs to go.  Usually I dismiss that she does not.

When the dentist office called me, I made an appointment for the semi-annual cleaning.  Her dentist had told me that she had perfect teeth and that there were still nine baby teeth.  Really?  I was certain that she had already lost them all.  Guess not.

The cleaning that she had in November – or was it December? – revealed a small cavity.  In April the office called again so that they could fill the cavity.  But apparently it was NOT a permanent tooth and so the dentist didn’t want to fill it.

She had lost three teeth from when we were told there were nine.  But her dentist said he would need to pull the remaining six. They could have done it after the cleaning, but she was going to be in a program.  She didn’t want to miss school – which is advisable when getting teeth pulled.  I set something up for the afternoon for the following week.  

   Jenna was late getting her act together that particular day as I mentioned in this post and we missed our bus.  The school called and I ended up changing her appointment to today.

Jenna lost a tooth at school sometime after the program.  The next day she lost two more.  So by the time I got her to her appointment today, there were only three teeth left to be pulled.

Both the dentist and his assistant had come into the lobby to inform me how impressed they were that she was being so brave.  The dentist had pulled out two teeth.  She hadn’t flinched.  But oh-oh.  That third one was a doozy.  And it hurt and she cried.  And the dentist said that he had wanted to cry with her.

I had asked her three times if she had wanted to go out to see her cousin, Anna.  She said she did.  She also said she was hungry, but I knew she couldn’t chew.

I bought her a milk shake at the drive at the corner.  She was told not to use a straw but it was too painful for her to eat it.  I wrapped up the shake and surrounded it with items in my backpack and we stood outside to catch the bus. 

I had her change shoes with me as both of our feet hurt and I thought switching shoes might be helpful.  It was.  I wouldn’t be able to wear her shoes for very long.  She hasn’t even had them for two months now and they look quite worn out.  She’ll be wearing my shoes on Saturday when she runs the 5K

I asked her again if she wanted to go out and see Anna or if she wanted to go home and lay down.  It was getting late and I knew we wouldn’t be to my sister’s house until well after 5:00.  The pain kicked in enough that Jenna wanted to go home.  And so we crossed the street to catch a bus going the other direction.

She has a plastic case that contains her three pulled teeth.  I couldn’t believe the size of them.  

She also had a glittery case shaped like a tooth and asked if the tooth fairy might take it also.  I suggested that if she left it on her dresser the tooth fairy would fill it up with whatever amount she’d be leaving.  

Actually, it’s already taken care of.  I can’t seem to sneak into her room or else I forget to try.  I think Jenna might be too old for the tooth fairy.  But I think she deserves some kind of reward for the pain that

Whose brilliant idea was it to create the tooth fairy anyway?  Syd Hoff wrote a tooth fairy book that is evidently out of print.  I wanted to buy it for Jenna when she was younger, but I couldn't find it.  It is a cute book.

Looking for Answers in the Skies

     Randy helped Roland put the A/Cs up on Memorial Day.  Roland had wanted to do central air, but the cost would have been more than remolding the bathroom (and getting a new tub – which is I wanted – but not the entire expense all at once) Three fires and still just barely getting by on Roland’s check.  

     Ten more days and Pamprin will be eighteen.  No more child support – well except what the stupid state is suspending from his paycheck on the two years that Roland was UNEMPLOYED – and what’s the point of fighting it when the lawyer may end up sucking more out of us than Maleficent did (still does)  Still we should notice an increase in his paycheck – at least I hope.

     It was 88 degrees in our city yesterday.  Roland had looked it up online.  He said there was a difference of ten degrees from what his family members were experiencing in Tucson.  It wouldn’t be so bad if the climb or drop in temperature was gradual, but it’s not (and hasn’t been) 

     62 degrees.  Bamm now 88.  Bam, oh we’re back to 40.  Gradual would be 62, 62, 63, 65, 64, 66, 67 . . . . I wish the temperature would just stay between 66-72 all year long.  I really don’t like these constant 15-25 degree jumps!

     We had the air on last night.  It often dries me out.  But I can’t stand the heat.  So my choices are to wake up dry (often with a headache) or not even sleep at all due to the heat (which I am actually surprised hasn’t killed me off)

     It’s that time of year when laundry has to be washed more often than once a week – particularly the tops and bras.  I’d just to braless if there wasn’t so much weight in my sagging chest – but they are needed.  I don’t own any air conditioned underwear.  Thermals were invented to keep us warm – where is the underwear that will keep us cool?

     Yesterday was hot!  Deadly hot.  Okay, perhaps calling 88 degrees “deadly” is a slight exaggeration (especially when I have lived through some ugly three digit temperatures) the 20 degree jump just makes it feel deadly.  And now we’re back to an indecisive sky.  Will we have rain? Will I need my sunglasses?  I’m not taking my umbrella.  It will be worth getting wet (should the sky choose to rain)

 

     Well, those were my thoughts this morning.  I could feel the wind.  I put on long pants, but changed my entire outfit before we left the house.  It hadn’t even been an hour since I dressed when the top of me was soaked!  It was gross. 

     I don’t pick Jenna up today.  On Wednesday s after school, she takes a charter bus to her practice for the 5K that she’ll be running on Saturday.  Today will be her last day before the run.  And she’ll be out of school next week.

     Today is my birthday and she made a power point card which she showed to me this morning.  I’ve always had access to power point but never used it.  My ten year old showed me how.

     I’d like the skies to rain.  It has rained on my birthday before.  I had taken Jenna to the doctor that year.  Tomorrow I will be taking her back to the dentist (initially she was supposed to have six teeth pulled but three came out on their own)

 

Google wishes me a happy birthday each time I sign in.  Facebook friends and others have sent me wishes – but only Google has said “Happy Birthday, LaTiesha” 

   

     One of my visiting teachers came and got me and took me out to lunch.  That was a surprise.  She took me to a place that I had never even heard of before.  Good food.  Good company.  It was nice to visit with her.  It makes me feel like I’m not a very good visiting teacher though.  I’ve never done that for any of my sisters.

     The day is not over.  It hasn’t rained.  Perhaps after I put my first load on the line.

    

    

Creative Journaling – photos are less than a thousand words

     I’ve always been an advocate of journal writing – but especially now that mom has passed. 

     After we put my mom into assisted living and were cleaning out her house in order to sell it, my brother, Corey, took mom’s journals with him to Las Vegas and has been transcribing them ever since.  He also took a couple of boxes of photographs. There have been several parts of her journal which have corresponded with unlabeled photos or have provided memories that have had us thinking, “Oh, yea.”

     Other passages have given us more insight to our overly quiet dad.  And lately – mom’s emotions about caring for dad mirroring our own with caring for her.  It’s been a rather interesting journey. 

     Some journal entries often seem boring and it feels pointless to even write about.  Journal entries written by teens can often sound funny or disheartening.

     Recently I discovered a journal while cleaning out Biff’s old room and converting it to Jenna’s. 

     Biff had received a journal upon his baptism when he was eight years old.  It had been signed by his bishopric.  It took him thirteen years to fill less than forty pages.  It amazes me that he has moved at least six times since receiving his journal and has it still – though he's never once written in it since we moved to West Valley.

     His entries from 1995 to 2000 are quite simple.  He didn’t start dating his entries until after then.  Thus it’s hard to tell what lines were written during what point in his life.  Here are some examples:

Today I was mad.  We played horse in the gym. 

Today I went outside to play.  It was fun

Today I went to the zoo

I had a good day today. 

I am 12 years old now.  6^th grade is hard for me.  I have two girl friends (lie) named Charlene and Nollie

His first dated entry is Jan 24, 2000

1/24/2000

That got on my last nerve

1/25/2000

School

1/26/2000

School

2/15/2000

Party

9/11/2001

I am now 14.  There was an attack on America.  How it happened

Plane crash in building

9/17/2001

All night this is my life.  I go to school, smile at people. 

I go home, smile at people, then go to bed. 

That’s my life right now. 

Hopefully it’ll get better.  I know it will

12/28/2001

I am now 14

I’m bored . . . there is nothing to do at age 14

I had a girl friend.  I forget her name, but I wish she never lost my number because I lost hers. 

For some reason I keep thinking about her.  I have another girl that I think is cheating on me, but what do I know.  I’m still little and there is plenty of fish is the sea.  What I mean is there are plenty of girls out there.

1/11/2002

Today I wasn’t so bored like always. 

I’m wresting.  I started wresting in Nov. 28, 2001. 

And it’s now 1/14/02. 

The big thing about this is I pinned some guy

in 2 seconds.  It never felt better. 

I hope I can do it again.

1/8/2003

I keep falling in love with people who probably are not interested in me.  Oh, well.  I wish that I was, will and be bigger than anyone in the world muscle wise.

That is I also wish I had a girlfriend that’s love and cares for me.  I hope I won’t be so alone with no one at age 16.  I’m bored.  “Sigh” good-night

10/07/2003

I like school and school likes me.  There are people to talk to don’t feel so alone today as you can tell.  Sometimes I feel alone but today I just don’t care.  I hope it’s the same tomorrow.  It would be popular.  We’ll see.

6/26/2006

Graduation! From high school.  I’m sad.  I’ll miss all that were so nice to me. 

4/13/2008

Wow!  Looking at what I’ve said in my journal makes me want to burn it or start over.  I’ve skipped so many things and also I’ve skipped the good things that happen to me.  Now my journal doesn’t even make sense to me.  Oh well, in October last year I’ve met my girlfriend, [Sharon].  I love her and now I can’t go so crazy.  Any more. LOL  Like when I put in my journal that I’m “ing lonely”

This journal makes me sound like a little boy, a sad, dad, little boy

Last entry:

What is wrong with me?  How come girls won’t talk to me.  And when they do, they don’t want to?  I do the best I can to be good.  I’ve heard so many times good things come to those who wait LOL not happing.  I really really really want a girlfriend.  My heart hurts because no girl is giving me a chance to love.

I had mentioned writing from journal jars in this post and as I was answering a question, I thought of a new way to journal and clean up my photos at the same time.

I have gone through different photos and provided more detail than just the title of the photo.  Most of my descriptions have been really short.

“I can’t say for certain why this photo was taken, but I can give a brief description about the outfits that Kayla and I are wearing. 

“Grandma Mary saved up money and would travel each year to different countries.  With this particular year she had gone to Scotland.  She purchased the red plaid in Scotland and had sent the fabric to mom.  Mom made these matching outfits for me and Kayla”

I suppose I could elaborate more about mom’s willingness to sew and her diligence to finish projects.  She said her favorite part about sewing is that she would get so caught up in whatever project that she would forget to eat.  She believed that by forgetting to eat that she would be able to lose weight.

“This was taken on Christmas morning.  Patrick and I are wearing our new pajamas.  I also received this robe.  That was the same year I received my first (and I suppose my only) Chrissy doll and a paint spinner”

Other descriptions were more elaborate and had nothing to do with the photo really.  For example, I had come across one of my cousin Jackie and me and my mom holding Corey when he was just a few months old.  Didn’t remember the picture.  But I wrote about Jackie and how we’re related and houses I had remembered visiting in Magna, Utah.

I wrote down the names of all of Jackie’s siblings and her husband and four children.  I also mentioned that Jackie and mom and I had worked together at the ice cream store several years after the picture was taken.

Mom once wrote:  “My journal writing has been so erratic.  I wonder if anyone will ever read these or be in the least bit interested in what I have written.”

Perhaps we don’t feel like what we write is worthwhile or carries any value.  Actually our words are quite valuable – especially to our posterity who is experiencing the same feelings that we felt. 

Mom and I have often used our own journals as a reference.  We’ll need to provide a specific date for work or health and when we know the details of the surrounding events, we can usually find whatever it is we’re looking for.

Corey says mom always detailed the amount of tips that were taken in or that we each received each night she worked at the ice cream store.

I don’t expect that my journal will ever be made well known as the diary of Anne Frank (for example) but that isn’t why I keep a journal.  I do it for myself.  I continue for Jenna. 

My writing gets hard to read at times.  Especially when my mind is going faster than my pen (which it often does) and there have been times when I have tried to transcribe my own journal.  That is actually quite difficult for me as I often want to change it.  I would elaborate with some entries and choose to discard others.  I don’t even know how much original I have.  Now that I think about it, I know there is some that got thrown out when mom’s house was cleaned.  Nate had told me that there was a box of stuff that belonged to me.  I told him to throw it out without even looking at it.  I figured if I hadn’t bothered with it for over ten years, I could certainly part with it.  Too late now.

My advice to all my readers would be to take the time to write your own history.  It will mean the world to those you leave behind.

It's No Longer a High School - Dreamathon!

We had scheduled a dentist appointment for Jenna on Friday afternoon.  

Fortunately I had contacted the school the day before. 

 Jenna noticed the bus go by and I took my cell phone out to see what time it was.  

It went off in my hands.  That was weird.

I saw that it was the school calling.  

I was told that Jenna’s class would be going on a filed trip and wouldn’t be back at designated time and that I might as well keep her home.  

When I repeated the words “field trip” into the phone, Jenna started crying.  She wanted to go.

I called the dentist to reschedule and Jenna and I got on the next bus and she went to her field trip and not to the dentist.

She explained a little bit about her day – not with great detail as she does sometimes.  

There was a piece on the news about “Dreamathon” – where she had gone on her field trip.

I can’t explain why my back was turned as she continued to stare at the screen before yelling, “This is it, mom!  This is where my class went today!”

I was too slow at turning around, but had looked it up online.  

Apparently Granite High is no longer used as a high school.

 

I wasn’t aware that the building is more than 100 years old.

So today it houses the Dream Press Dreamathon featuring art, music, storytelling, etc.  I’d never heard of it.  Jenna had!  

She played our tour guide on Saturday.

I didn’t count all the rooms that we’d gone into. 

I think I was most impressed with the converted lockers.

An explosion of art was exhibited on two floors. 

Jenna may have enjoyed it more with her class than with her two old parents. 

She likes to dream

She has a great imagination!

I am so happy that she shares her enthusiasm with us.

It really is amazing!