Beneath the Wraps

          When Jenna was in the first grade, I would drop her off before school started.   Often I would park and walk around the adjoining neighborhoods.   Sometimes I would go to the temple and sometimes I would remain at the school and offer my assistance.   I made copies for Jenna’s teacher once a week. Before school let out I would return for her – though she and her friend Isaac were always the last two across the field.   It didn’t bother me if she dawdled.   I would just assume NOT deal with school traffic.   When she was attending first grade I was usually the only car left by the time she arrived to the parking lot.                     I had a similar routine for the first six weeks of second grade.   And then she gave her name and number to a classmate who happens to live in our same zip code. ...

          I don’t remember being in the ward when the name of Roland and his sons were read over the podium for new membership records. They must have been read the week that mom and I went out of town.           It was September of 2000.   We had gone to San Francisco to clean out my grandma’s apartment.   A place that housed her possessions but she had not actually lived there for over a year – and yet the rent was still being paid.   How wasteful.           Mom and I lined the halls with donations.   We had called Salvation Army, DVA, any thrift store or charity that would come.   Nobody would take it all, but every organization took a lot.   Hard to believe that apartment actually held all that much.   I never knew what a very Large apartment my grandmother lived in.     ...

          I don’t know how often Roland has asked the following question to various people: “What is the only mammal that cannot jump?”             The answer is, “an elephant.”           Whether it is accurate or not isn’t relevant – not to this post anyway.   Corey liked the title “Elephants Can’t Jump” and thought he would use it for a future post – although he didn’t know what.   I imagined some profound analogy that had nothing to do with elephant at all, but would leave his readers thinking, “What a great post.” as his posts are usually quite thought provoking.           This is neither great nor profound.   Needed fun to lighten up the mood from many of my most recent posts. I had memorized Eletelephony by Laura Elizabeth Richards .   It’s a fun lit...

          Almost every household in America has at least one ghost living with them.   Since being married to Roland, I have encountered three.   Their names are “It Wasn’t Me”, “I Don’t Know” and “I Didn’t Do It”.   The ghost who gets blamed the most in this house is “It Wasn’t Me”.   “I Don’t Know” received most of the blame in our last house – though “It Wasn’t Me” seemed to share a lot of blame as well.           I find it interesting that about 20 minutes before Jenna returned home from school yesterday, I retrieved a hand mirror from the coffee table and put it in the bathroom.   She couldn’t have been home more than five minutes before I found the mirror on the coffee table again – in almost the exact same position it has been only 25 minutes earlier.           “Why is that mirror on the coffee table?” I asked...