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 dessert and live off the land;
she would never go hungry. Corey, on the
other hand, could have starved to death less than three feet from a fully
stocked refrigerator.
Afterall she was four and he was eight
when he ran down the hall to our mom’s bedroom.
“Mama! Mama! Kayla is making toast!”
“So.”
“But I’m older than her. And even I don’t know how to make toast.”
I don’t recall how old Corey was when our
family received one of those novelty doughnut makers. It was actually quite a cool product
according to the late ‘70’s standards.
Patrick had made dozens of doughnuts (note: only two doughnuts can be
cooked at a time) and Corey decided that it was going to be his turn.
He had asked my mom if he could make
doughnuts. She said “no” – but he
pressed her. I don’t know if she finally
gave in or if he just chose to disobey.
But the girl from across the street had come over and he decided that
they would make doughnuts together.
He obviously did not follow a recipe as he
used at least one cup of baking soda.
The doughnut batter had already been poured into the doughnut maker when
Patrick and his friends (also from across the street) and I watched as he tried
to impress Becky with what would be the first doughnuts he had fully made by
himself.
The look on his face was priceless as he
opened up the container and the batter he had worked so hard on had disappeared
– except for a tiny bit of residue in the bottom. Becky lovingly scooped up what was left and
held it to her mouth and tasted it.
“This is really good,” she said in a
pathetic attempt to make Corey feel better.
The look on mom’s face was quite
hostile. She had specifically told Corey
NO and there was really no way we could salvage the rest of the batter (did I
mention he had doubled the recipe?) and
we all sensed that Corey was going to get a beating so severe that we might all
feel the pain from it.
But then Becky’s brother laughed about his
own memories and said, “It’s alright Corey.
We all make mistakes” and then proceeded to spit out every bad thing we
had ever done – burning experimental dinners, hiding food (I specifically remember
half a roast and a turkey) in his room and then forgetting about it (but an unpleasant
odor would reveal what he had done and he would get into trouble for it),
lighting the grass on fire . . . the list went on and on.
It was quite a few years later when my mom
said Becky’s brother probably saved Corey’s life that day. You’d think after all those horrifying
memories she would have wanted to strangle us all – except she was laughing
with us. Except for the grass fire. That had been way to close to the house.
I think Corey and I have both gotten
better in the kitchen. Still not our
favorite haunt. But we won’t die of
starvation. I don’t recall what happened
to the doughnut maker.
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 ex-wife is a sue happy individual – and I’ll leave it at that.
I often write things that sound a bit
odd to me and ask for Corey’s assistance on changing the wording or grammar or
whatever. One was the idea for a post
that I didn’t think I would ever post. But
he told me I should and asked if he could borrow some of it for his own
Blog. I was flattered.
So I added two pages to the two pages
I had already sent over. I created a
post and attached it on February 26, 2012.
I was surprised to see that Corey posted the entire thing instead of just
“some of it” as I thought. He called it
“My Sister’s words and an Endorsement” I had called it “We all Feel Excluded atTimes”
At the End of Corey’s post, he refers
to my Blog as a point of Interest. That
was nice of him. So it’s provided a
little bit of exposure – though it may have without his mentioning it in his post
– because the name of my Blog appears in his side bar as one that he follows.
I have followed a couple of blogs that
have stopped. Life got in the way for
one – and pressing issues for another who has to sort out a mess that was
created and somehow relates to her blog and so she is waiting for the right
time to change everything to something better and hopefully more secure.
Both have had guest bloggers. The latter said she was searching for
humorous stories and has always given me credit for the ones she has used. It’s
an honor having been mentioned on a few blogs themselves and not just in the
comments.
I would also like to thank those who have
commented thus far. When my window says,
“You’ve Got Mail!” it’s nice to see it
is a comment from an actual person and not just another advertisement. Thank you Corey, Heather and Kris.
Recently I was googling Individual
Worth in search for a proper definition to use in one of my posts. As I went searching I pulled up a few blog
sites with inspiring stories which I would like to share and reference.
I came across an object lesson given
by Stephanie Waite in which she laid out various belongings on a table and
asked her class what each object was worth and what made them valuable. Some of the objects were perhaps expensive
things and some objects may have been more valuable to one than to
another. But the particular object that
may have seemed worthless to most individuals was probably the most valuable
thing on the table in the eyes of its initial owner.
It actually reminded me of an object
that is close to Jenna – a stuffed dog she’s had since she was 6 months old –
though the toy itself looks like he’s been around much longer than she has.
It’s been restuffed twice and has had matted hair cut off – never to grow back
again. But Jenna loves it. It’s her baby. It’s her lifelong friend.
Recently she allowed her cousin to
“borrow” it – a huge sacrifice on her part.
But Kayla (my sister) was not all that thrilled about inviting Jenna’s
beat up toy (which really is clean – but appears to be unkempt) into her house
and chose to leave it in the trunk of her car.
What makes something or someone
valuable? Love? The kind of love that makes you valuable no
matter what. No matter how beaten or
ratty (inside or out) I loved her
post. I loved her explanation. And you can read the full post here.
Stephanie’s last post referred me to another
blog. I read a post that could fall into
the category of Choice and Accountability.
What a tough decision to be made – and yet what remarkable faith and
strength that would help so many others.
Collin Presley had health problems
from the time he was born. He outlived
his disease by twelve years (from my understanding) but died shortly after a
new medication was given.
Their first thought was to sue the
doctor. Collin still had life with the
old medication. Surely someone had to
blamed for Collin’s death – but an autopsy would have to be preformed to
provide proof. Doing an autopsy would
upset the organs which the family wanted to donate to those who were still
fighting the fight. A battle with attorneys
would have been so costly. It wouldn’t
bring Collin back. On the flip side his
organs could be donated and bring life to others. That was the choice they faced. You can read more of their story in this post though I
recommend venturing even further with prior posts
Katy Pluim amazes me with her short
sweet posts as she deals with having only one arm. I am so impressed with the things that she has taught herself that I struggle with having two arms. She is a beautiful person with a husband and a three year old (almost three) daughter. Here is one of her earlier posts on dealing.
Unfortunately I did not copy the reference
for this next story. I tried going back
to my initial research and to Google–ing with the given subject, but more sites
were brought up than I cared to wade through.
My apologies to the blogger (though there are many more resources for
this particular story:
“More than one hour after the gold-medal
athlete had crossed the finish line during the marathon in the 1968 Summer
Olympics in Mexico City, John Stephen Akhwari of Tanzamia entered the
stadium. Only a few spectators remained
as the lone runner appeared. The
athlete’s leg was injured and bleeding.
He was dehydrated and confuse. As
he crossed the finish line, the small crowd cheered in appreciation for what
would become one of the most famous last-place finishes in history. But it
wasn’t the runner’s performance that caught their attention – and the attention
of thousands more during the almost five decades since. It was his desire to finish the race, to
endure to the end. After the event in
1968, a reporter asked the runner why he had not quit the race since he had no
chance of winning. The Tanzanian athlete was confused. “My country did not send me to Mexico City to
start the race,” he replied. “They sent
me to finish”
I actually shared this next story in
Relief Society when the instructor asked the class for comments about
Integrity. What goes around comes
around. I think this is a really great
example.
And finally one idea to teach in
classrooms – though children are more accepting and perhaps this ought to be
applied to all adults as well Stop the
bullying already. We are all different.
Embrace the differences.
How great it is to have so many great
insights and so many who support one another through their blogs and create
ideas and share. Thank you!
Before Roland and I moved from our first house, he
introduced me to the reality show “Chopped” a one hour show that gives four
chefs the opportunity to create appetizers, entrees, and desserts using four
specific ingredients – most I haven’t been familiar with or think of as too bizarre
to belong with either the rest of the
ingredients or in the particular round.
I would think that there is more than
eight hours of footage for each episode of “Chopped” – thus it is not just the
chefs competing who get “chopped” but the editing as well. It sickens me to know that all this wasted
footage exists – that so much tape ends up on the floor. The expense that goes into these reality series
(Wife Swap is another example) and all the waste. I could really use the money that is spent on
wasted film. So many Americans could –
especially in this economy that seemingly continues to spiral downhill. Where are the priorities of this nation?
I think Rock Center handled “Mormons in
America” well. Some accused of focusing
too much on the small percentage that “don’t really represent the entire church”
well guess what? It’s that small
percentage that the world will be looking at. And I think it’s wonderful that
it has been presented to the world (or nation anyway) that there might be a
better understanding.
Abby Huntsman does not represent the
entire Church. Who does? Some criticized that the creators of the
program should have gone to the authorities or at least devout members to for a
more accurate understanding. But we are
a very diverse people – even among ourselves.
The gospel values are true regardless of its members. But the members are not perfect. We are not all cut out of the same mold – and
the world needs to know that there are struggles that many members face that
don’t always correspond with what the gospel principles teach.
I think the documentary was handled very
nicely. And I think Abby did a great job
letting people understand her position but still being respectful of the
Church. She probably has a better hold on what a non member might feel. There are many who have left the church who
experience that “ah-hah” moment after they’ve been away for it – not that they
disagree or become uncomfortable – but all the sudden understand the meaning of
“a peculiar people” and understand the non-members view – whereas those who are
so close to the surface don’t have that same understanding. They don’t see the forest for the trees. Corey explained it a little bit in this post
There are many members (or former
members) who have had their feelings hurt for whatever reason. Treated like outcasts. Overaggressive concern isn’t handled
correctly either on the part of the leaders or the interpretation of the member
(I think more of the first; as an example Abby’s bishop told her that she
wouldn’t receive the same blessings – and although it may have been said out of
concern – it hadn’t been communicated in a proper manner) I like the way Clive Durham said it in this post
Bishop, stake president, and other
leadership positions are held by people.
Imperfect people. Some, who unfortunately abuse their power, some, who
should have never been put in that position to begin with. Some who would rather not be there and wonder
why the position was accepted in the first place.
Julienne (sp?) and Al Jackson do NOT
represent all members. A large majority,
perhaps. But certainly NOT all
members. Mitch Mayne is told he can keep
his position in the Church so long as he remains celibate. Celibate?
Really? In a Church that pushes
marriage and family? (And there are many who actually do push)
That was Corey’s plan - to remain celibate
– though he wasn’t fulfilled. He would
have been able to keep his membership – but still not feel whole – not complete. He did NOT go in search for a partner. Truth is, when they initially met, he tried
to avoid it.
Their first encounter together was working on the same production in Las Vegas. The two of them started out with a casual dinner, but after a while Corey's feelings deepened towards his partner. He started to have feelings that he had been told all of his life were wrong to have.
Corey returned home from Las Vegas the
first Christmas after they had met.
Relieved in some ways not to be tempted by something he had been trying
to avoid all of his life. Yet torn
because he really did have emotions for this guy. And what a wonderful guy he is. I really really do like Corey’s partner.
Eventually it turned into something
very beautiful. Both celibate. Both wanting to wait. Both yearning for God to be a part of their “marriage”
and I have no doubts that He is. Corey
had to give up his membership. But he
did not give up on the gospel. He still attends
Sunday meetings (minus the priesthood which he was never comfortable with in
the first place) and though it’s often hard for him not to be able to
participate to the fullest – Corey is happier than he has ever been in his
entire life.
Corey is very knowledgeable in the gospel. He is very well rounded individual. He doesn’t represent the entire Church – even
when he was a member. But he does make
an impact. A GREAT impact. He has a very strong and beautiful
testimony. He is one of many pioneers on
a path that is slowly being smoothed over and more widely traveled – and yet
too many who are on that path feel alone and unwanted and aren’t always handled
with care. Corey, fortunately, has had
amazing support. Yet it seems to be a rarity with far too many.
We have a friend who is strongly
opinionated and probably more of a feminist than Joanna Brookes. She is married to one who has been on the
high council as well as other prominent positions. Both strong in the gospel. Each representing what sometimes appear as
conflicting ideas. And I love them
both. And I respect them both. And I am personally grateful for the
diverseness.
Roland has often told me about
different dreams that he’s had and always concludes with, “What do you think it
means?”
Dreams are just that. Some are bizaare. Some are wonderful. Some you hope to never “dream” again. And perhaps some do have meaning. Truthfully, I don’t place too much value in
dreams. I think that is how God
communicated to his children at one time – and perhaps still does to some –
though I think the methods of communication have broadened sufficiently since
then. My personal opinion is that, overall, dreams really don’t mean a whole
lot.
Still, I often have crazy dreams that
I will write down or share just because they are so bizarre. And sometimes I ask myself what would have
caused me to dream it. But I never go
into depth about the possible symbolism that may (or may not) exist.
Last night I dreamed my nephew-in-law
was getting married. The strange part
about my dream is that I don’t think it was to my niece – though I don’t
remember getting a good look at the bride’s face. But physically she looked too short and not
quite so thin as my niece, Ellen. Actually I don’t recall remembering any of
the wedding party – except for my niece (Ellen’s sister) who is currently in
junior high right now.
I believe the marriage itself was in
the temple. I know I watched them get
married. And suddenly everybody was
changed into picnic casual – except for me and my niece – though her skirt and
vest were a lot more casual than the white strapless dress that I was wearing –
a dress that was pretty, but one that I personally would NEVER wear in real
life. Not in front of others
anyway. Not to a picnic. And certainly not to the temple.
And suddenly my thoughts turned to
weddings past and things that had been missed out on. I tried to shut it out. I was tired.
It was early and I wanted to sleep still. But I finally got up and turned on the
computer and started reading through many of the comments left on this post.
So often we allow ourselves to feel
unloved, useless or unwhole because of certain comments made in society or by
the Church. We are told that we need to
fit into this perfect mold, this compact Mormon box – and if you have feminist
thoughts or same sex attraction or if you don’t go to the temple a certain
amount of days or if you wear open-toed shoes without hose to Church or if you
don’t volunteer for at least every other canning assignment – well, you just
don’t fit into the box and you need to repent and turn your life around. And if you don’t, you are not worthy of the “Mormon
Box” Club.
The young women of the church are
taught values.One of these values is
Individual Worth. This is defined as individuals, each with her own divine
mission which she will strive to fulfill – “for the worth of souls is great in
the sight of God”.
I don’t believe he is looking for carbon
copies but expects us to be true to Him but also true to ourselves – even though
sometimes the two may seem to conflict.We still have to find what makes us happy and stay true to who we are
meant to be regardless of path others may follow or think that we should
follow.No matter how we act or what we
do or who we are or how we dress – we will NEVER PLEASE ALL PEOPLE – we all
have our own differences, our own personal taste, our own individual
worth.It’s important that we remain TRUE
TO OURSELVES.We have all been given the
same guidelines but are still free to make our own choices and receive our own
personal revelations.
And sometimes these personal revelations
may conflict with the teachings of the Church – or our own interpretations of
those teachings anyway. My brother gave
up his membership to be with his partner – someone he would like to be with not
just on this earth life but throughout all eternity. It is something he
pondered about and struggled with for a long long time. And he knows (as well as many others) that the
decision made was right for him. But the
path that he’s on may not be the right one for all homosexuals. He’s on a divine mission with several bumps
in the road. God has given him that
unique gift of smoothing the path that others may follow. He is a pioneer.
Neither Corey nor his partner chose to feel same sex attraction. Really, why would an individual
subject himself (or herserlf) to choose being shunned, misunderstood, or have
suicidal thoughts because he or she does not measure up to Club Society or the Mormon
Box? Why would one choose to be closeted
and live life in fear because the feelings and emotions that one may experience
don’t jive with what is being taught. If
one does decide to come out of the closet, he or she risks being rejected by
friends, family members, society . . . because why? Because there is that desire to be true to
oneself and to be accepted and not ridiculed for not measuring up? So they are not entititled to the same
blessings anymore? Seriously? Is that really how God works?
Stake Conference is in just a few
weeks. It is most likely that a new
president will be announced. My husband
may be considered for the position – perhaps NOT as the stake president but a
counselor maybe – though it is the president who will have to pray and find
revelation to call his own counselors – Roland is being considered.
And here I am not wanting to jeopardize
his enthusiasm but still feeling desire for Corey and others to feel more than
just a sense of belonging verbally (though many don’t even get that) – but to
continue with membership if they so desire – to be able to take the sacrament
again. Especially when they are so
strong in the gospel in Spirit – but their names have been removed, their
membership diminished. And still there are many who remain closeted and hope
the feelings will go away, that they don’t bring shame to anyone, who try to
live up to the Church’s expectations but are not happy with themselves.
It wasn’t until after I returned from my temple
recommend interview that I questioned myself – had I answered the questions honestly? I had at the time that I gave them. It came so automatic that I hadn’t questioned
it at the time of the interview. But I
suppose I do sympathize with a group whose teachings are different from what is
taught in the LDS Church.
Thus far I haven’t acted upon it – such as
campaigning for their cause by going door to door or holding picket signs or
what have you – and probably wouldn’t because of Roland’s position. He doesn’t have the same understanding that I
have acquired. And I did have to acquire
it – for I once agreed with every single message I’d received from the leaders
of the church and would ask no questions.
Now I view the homosexuals as a fellow Christian trying to save her
Jewish friends during Hitler’s reign.
Will society make the homosexuals put
bands upon their clothes – similar to the star of David (perhaps a rainbow –
God’s sign of promise) – so that we will know?
Will we all the sudden treat our family and friends like lower class
citizens – as though they are less important?
Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God. The worth of ALL souls not just straight
souls, not just green souls, not just female souls . . . . fortunately God’s worth
is so much greater than that of men. For
God is not the one who labels us and classifies us into categories of tolerance. We are all worth more to Him than men can
even comprehend.
Recently (on Youtube) I watched excerpts
of Oprah’s interview with Neil Patrick Harris and David Burtka and viewed it as
such a sweet relationship and thought of what a remarkable love went in to
planning their offspring and how incredibly blessed they all are. And yet they have surely received criticism
by many who refuse to understand, who refuse to see the miracle that has taken
place between them, who view them with Pharisee eyes. I really appreciate Oprah’s
“ah’hah” moment that she shares in the last 15 seconds of this video.
A straight couple can have an unwanted baby
on accident, but a gay couple has to plan and save and jump through legal
hurdles to have a child, and so I would think there would be more love invested
in that child (or children) We’re
people. We are all people. We’re not star bellied sneetches – though many
of us act like we are.
Roland grew up on beans and rice. I on the other hand grew up on casseroles. So that's what I make. I'm fortunate that Roland loves to cook and bake and enjoys a lot more than rice and beans. He is actually a very good cook. Not so great at cleaning up. But when I don't have to cook the food myself, I really don't mind.
For several years I spent a lot of time on the computer. Roland was basically self employed and I was his secretary creating a system that would work for us - advertising through post cards, letters and keeping track of addresses sent. And Roland would cook and bake while I was on the computer. I actually enjoyed that system.
But with the broken economy and an unpromising future, Roland has taken on a job with a company that issues paychecks twice a month and gives us an actual amount to work with. He works from 8-5 or 7-4 depending. And so I am now responsible for seeing that dinner is ready when he returns. Usually I am scrimping for creative ways to utalize whatever happens to be in the fridge. My last two meals have consisted of turkey and vegetables.
On Monday I made a mock shepherds pie. Roland said he had never had it before, and actually claimed that he liked it. (I rarely ever get that. I am not a chef. I don't choose to be. I can follow a recipe, but it's got to be exact. If the item I'm baking needs to be covered, it must say so in the recipe - otherwise it won't get covered)
After two days of shepherd pie and frozen leftovers, I looked for another recipe. Turkey and zucchini lasagna. I found a few recipes through Google. But still changed a bit. I would rather have Alfredo than Mariana - though I know the Mariana is better for us health wise. So I waited another day for Roland's input. He wanted the Mariana, but at the last minute told me to use up the Alfredo. And so I did.
I put some oil in the bottom of the crockpot and layered it with turkey and noodles, a beet greens and zucchini mixture, rocatta cheese, noodles and back to the meat and alfredo sauce and vegtables and cheese. Only took three hours for it to cook - and it was good. Rich. But good. But still - too much for just me and Roland (Jenna refuses to allow it anywhere near her lips) so now we have three containers of leftovers for those days I don't feel like cooking (which is actually often) 2 with turkey lasagna and 1 with Shepherd's pie.
On Monday I made 7 dozen cookies - four zucchini and three no bake. They were all gone by Wednesday. Can you believe that? Granted we did share 2-3 dozen - maybe a little bit more. But I think my Jenna may be getting pudgy. Okay. No more cookies for a while. It just sounded better than bread pudding - which Roland had wanted to make. As if he has time.
Now it is he on the computer pulling up sites to reference material. And he is on hours at a time.
I'd like to go back to how it was before - when he was in the kitchen and I was on the computer.
Recently I was watching a show (well,
attempting to watch) called “Bunheads” The particular episode focuses around
Michelle substitute teaching for Fanny, who is out of town, and, according to Facebook,
will be for some time.
All of the supporting characters are aware
of Fanny’s extended plans except for Michelle – who hasn’t checked her Facebook
page and is bothered that the whole world seems to revolve around Facebook
communication.
There is nothing private about Facebook. Things are taken out of context,
misunderstood, mistranslated, and up for political debate.
One of my Facebook friends joined after
three years of rebellion. Facebook was
not for her. She’s been able to
communicate just fine without it – but not always so informed.
Like Michelle, she’d learn from other
people, “Oh, I hear your grandson won the trophy and that there will be a
celebration.” “Who else is going to Mr.
Walkie’s picnic on Friday?” “Did you hear so and so got the lead in the school
play?”
Okay, I don’t know the exact quotes that
she read. The first example is probably
totally inaccurate as she supports her grandchildren to the fullest and is
always there – provided that the information has been related to her.
I guess after three years of listening to
her family converse about current events that hadn’t yet reached her ears, she
joined Facebook – though she seemed leery or did it out of rebellion or what
have you.
Actually, it appears that she has been on
it almost daily since she joined. And
usually her posts are profound and have great meaning. She shares links and views and probably does
reach more people now than before.
I visit Facebook weekly at best. I go in to view and post pictures and send
wishes to those having birthdays (the calendar reminder is actually one of my
favorite features) Sometimes I read
comments that have been made. Overall I
see it as a great big bill board with just as many advertisements as
comments.
The appearance of facebook has changed
three to five times since I’ve joined – the latest being time line – and you
are going to join forces weather you want to or not. I actually didn’t have a problem with time
line. Corey has not been happy about the
mandatory sweitch however.
I noticed that many times people leave
comments on stupid posts, but I get very little on the ones that I really care
about. Or used to care about. I seldom ever put posts on Facebook
anymore. I’d rather Blog what’s on my
mind.
I have a friend whose husband is a
recruiting officer for one of those online schools. He sits at a desk while the
automatic dialer spins out call after call of potential students. If/When one picks up, he introduces himself
and states the purpose of his call.
I am certain that over 50% of their “potential
students” are not potential at all. They
were victims of online job hunting believing that they were filling out an
application for the a job that would hopefully tie them over and entered info
on those pop-ups designed to retrieve information to so sucker you into going
to their schools.
I know as I have been a victim of this
“potential” marketing myself. I am livid
at the method of “solicitation” – if I wanted to go to school, I would search
out for the school – I don’t need someone contacting me to try to “sell” me a product
that is going to put me further in debt than I already am. Thank you very much!
Their biggest selling point (that I
see) is that it works to the students convenience because he or she can choose
his/her own hours and doesn’t have to be on a set schedule as with the campus
schools. They don’t clue you in as how
the hours can literally swallow so much of your time. But perhaps many really don’t know how time
consuming it is.
The recruiters are expected to have so
many starts in any given month. If they
don’t make the quota, they are invited to leave. That’s not really fair – given the
circumstances that most of the “students” who are contacted are not interested
in being called let alone making a commitment – which a large percentage don’t.
The online schools don’t have near as
much to offer in career choices as campus schools. There haven’t been any that have appealed to
me personally. I prefer a hands-on – one
on one if possible. I like having a live
instructor that can communicate to me without
the benefit of a computer. Oh, don’t get me wrong – I value my computer – but not
to the point of replacing an education the “old fashion” way.
After a year or so with the company (I
don’t actually know how long) my friend’s husband was entitled to take the
online courses for free (provided he work with the online school for the next
three years or come up with the finances on his own) for either himself or a
family member.
As he currently has only one child who
would qualify – and that child wants to go into medicine (which is not an
online program) and my friend isn’t all that thrilled about the programs
offered either, her husband has decided to further educate himself – which is
all well and good – but it is sooo time consuming. His greatest sacrifice (in my opinion) has
been giving up several hours of sleep.
I’ve been to her house a few times
when her husband has been trying to fulfill assignments. It appears to be so frustrating. My friend has
had to physically remove her children from the environment so that he is able
to stay more focused. But she is never
gone long enough. What is suppose to be “two
hours any given four days in the week” turns into eight.
She says that often he doesn’t get to bed
until after 2:00 and then he needs to be up by 6:00. Perhaps his body has adjusted to needing only
four hours per night (uh, morning) but my friend says that he comes home
physically and mentally exhausted. And
she is worried about him.
Right now he is an A student. It will be
another three years before he “graduates” – and then what? Will having his degree or certificate or
whatever it is help him to land a better job?
Will all those hours he spent at the computer, giving up sleep (not to
mention a few family moments) be worth it?
I can receive an education online without
getting credit for it. There is tons of
information to learn and so much right at our fingertips (literally) but I have
to go at my own pace – which is not a part of the schooling education
For some people, online schooling really
is an ideal thing – particularly if they are only working part time and have
inherited a good chunk of money – and single – without children – without interruptions
. . . perhaps it for some it has its perks.
But it’s not for me personally. I
can actually understand why the drop-out ratio is so high.
The town I grew up in was not a
metropolis. Or at least it hadn’t
started out that way. But over the time,
the city has built itself around that area making it much larger than a town.
When I was little, everything had to be
driven to – the doctors, the swimming pool, the hospitals, my grandma’s house .
. . not much in the way of walking
distance. My parents even had to drive quite
a distance just to get to the freeway.
Today access to the freeway is just around
the corner from where I grew up. I used
to have picnics with my brother and his friends in a vacant field -which is no
longer - as the land was dug up and is now a part of the intrastate freeway.
There are at least 20-30 fast food chains
and restaurants within walking distance.
The small trailer where we had opened our first savings account broke
ground on now houses an actual building that changed hands (bank names) at least three
times before transforming into a Subway sandwich shop. I don’t even know if it’s still there or
not. Many stores have come and gone
since I lived there. I remember one building was a Chinese restraunt, a fish
and chips, a trophy and plaque store, and a doctor’s office. Currently it is a
Hertz – really? There is seriously a lot
to put cars in?
I remember a few buildings changing hands
on what seemed like a weekly basis.
I loved going to Gibsons and to
Allied. Both names and places of the
past.
Jenna gets angry when I accidently refer
to her Ipod as a walkman.
Says
I’m lucky I had my own phonograph when I was younger. She was thinking the hand cranked kind. I said (in a highly offended voice) I’m not
that old. She laughed.
My brothers (that would include my
non-biological family across the street) and I used to take swim lessons at the
Deseret Gym. Now the LDS Conference
Center built over where Deseret gym used to be.
When we’d visit my Uncle out in Kearns, it
seemed quite a drive from our house – but when I lived there with Roland
everything was really quite close. The
Sinclair gas station that received its new make-over after we moved has now
been ripped out so that the already wide road can be widened even more.
Of course I don’t remember anything about
my birth except for what my mom tells me.
Dad wasn’t allowed in the delivery room.
I had three family members with me when I gave birth to Jenna. My then 11 year old neice was able to watch
her sister get born. But than maybe it depends on what area you're in. My son, Tony, said he wasn't allowed in the delivery room when his daughter was born - and that was just five months ago.
Jenna was not allowed to visit her cousin,
Ana after she was born. But two years later she was able to visit her newborn
cousin, Garret, once he got out of ICU and was brought into his mother’s
room. She wasn’t even allowed to visit
Kayla (Ana and Garret’s mother) two years ago.
Jenna’s car seat had been purchased at a
garage sale eight years ago. It passed
inspection. Not by today’s
standards. No way. I guess I can understand that – to a degree
anyway. There’s another thing that
improves each year – or attempted to anyway.
Mom held me in her lap when I was an infant. As a toddler I was placed in a seat which
slid over the back of the chair – front seat.
My mom was told to keep my brother,
Patrick, and I on our backs. By the time
Corey and Kayla came along, the policy had changed to laying newborns on their
bellies. Mom kept them on their backs
anyway – even Corey who was two months premature. Afterall the back procedure had worked fine
for me and Patrick. Somewhere along the
line it got changed back. Too many
babies ended up smothering themselves.
Jenna preferred being on her stomach. For the most part I would let her fall asleep
on me and then I would lay her on her back.
I remember when she learned to roll from her stomach to her back. She’d cry and cry when she couldn’t figure
how to return to being on her stomach again.
When we are children and don’t know
any better, we believe that McDonald’s is the greatest thing. Oh, sure, perhaps we’re too busy at the play
center or enjoying the toy that falls apart long before we have finished
whatever lame meal was ordered. What did
we know about nutrition? It wasn’t even
in our vocabulary.
Teenagers seemed divided. It’s fast, it’s cheap, close enough to the
high school or jr. high. Given the right
time of the day . . . not that I think of it as a hangout – not in your larger
cities anyway. Not with a playland and
30 screaming kids.
“It’s not where you take a girl on a
date,” says Randy. Although I could
picture Tony doing that very thing – and not with a limo and candles (which
Randy said was too cheesy – why spend the money on a limo? Why not just better quality food? Have to agree with that part.
Biff likes the yogurt parfaits. That’s about it. Even at thirteen (when he was seriously a
better eater than he is now) he saw McDonald’s food as something that would
clog the arteries. And it would take
years and years to undo the damage. I
think Biff views McDonald’s as the gateway to suicide.
As adults we would prefer NOT to go to
McDonald’s. It’s fine to take the kids
when they’re younger, but as they get older?
Come on. Surely we can come up
with better food – even if McDonald’s does seem the only thing in the budget.
Children don’t seem to appreciate home cooked meals. Going out just seems so much more prestige –
even if it is McDonald’s.
I recall the first time the boys had Alfredo
sauce. Neither Biff or Tony (who
literally eats anything but chicken) seemed unimpressed, but Randy (who always
expressed his gratitude and appreciative thoughts and anything to be the center
of attention) said (and he genuinely did mean it as a compliment) "This tastes
like restaurant food”
Randy was grateful to eat something
other than the budget meals that they had before I met Roland. And he really did like it even if Biff and
Tony weren’t all that impressed.
I think it is the prices at McDonald’s
that draw in the senior citizens. I
remember dad thinking McDonald’s was pretty good. And mom, who, for so many year has said, “I
don’t want to eat at McDonald’s.” didn’t seem to mind it the other day when
Jenna announced that’s where she wanted to go.
I certainly wasn’t up for McDonald’s food, but that’s where we ended up
and “grandma” didn’t seem to mind.
I guess by definition of the AARP I
turned into a senior citizen at the end of May this year. But my love for McDonald’s (should I ever
have one) is so far into the future that I think my taste buds will have to be
further gone than I am.
On the up side: McDonald’s does
provide housing for families for children who are in hospitals closer to the
hospital than their own houses. The
paper products used by McDonald’s are supposedly all recyclable. Big Macs, for instance, used to come in a
Styrofoam carton. Styrofoam is not
recyclable. Therefore it was changed to cardboard. Though I think more ends up in the “garbage”
than in the “recycling” – how can a product all covered in fatty food possibly
be recycled?
There are a lot of pluses to McDonalds
– possibly more than down sides. They
may have a bad rap with many. But there
will always be that genuine love among the children and senior citizens.
Corey
showed me this cartoon about five hours after Roland and I had driven to
Roland’s work. He was talking about this
very subject – commenting that there’s no such thing as multitasking. I couldn’t believe he was saying that.
He is amazing at multitasking behind the
wheel. And we have known several who fit in the “Molly Mormon” role – each with
8-14 kids. And it seems the more
children they have, the greater they are at multitasking. Straighting the dress on one while fixing the
hair on the other while cooking dinner and doing laundry, and feeding the
youngest two and reading a book in order to prepare for the Relief Society
lesson which actually isn’t until next month – but multitasker Molly Mormons
don’t procrastinate. They put all scouts
to shame as they will never be prepared as much as Molly Mormon. (On a side
note: many Molly Mormons actually do teach or at least assist with scouting)
I was convinced that there was no myth –
that multitasking really does take place.
And just less than twelve hours later I was sitting in front of the boob
tube watching Multiplicity. That’s when I absorbed what I’d been hearing all
day. There is truth in the saying that
there’s no such thing as multi-tasking.
No such thing. Apparently it is
believable as being able to clone ourselves to fulfill all those things that we
need to do. To multitask.
I could never be a multitasker. But I thought there were a handful of people
that were. I believed in the myth. I have seen Molly Mormon in action. Or was it the same trickery that is used by a
magician?
I once heard the following about an
elderly woman with a very nice garden.
Someone had asked how she maintained without weeds. She had set a goal to pull 15 a day. I’m guessing she didn’t have to deal with
pigweed.
I actually have two nicknames for the
weed that springs back to life the minute it is pulled. The more offensive name mentioned in the
title of this post and “Rapunzel” – though I think it grows much faster than Rapunzel’s
hair. But unlike Rapunzel’s hair, there
is absolutely nothing special about it.
It’s a weed. A multiplying
undying weed.
I will pull them up by their
roots. I will have a tremendous pile of
these red-rooted pigweeds – more outside of the garden than inside. It seems for every one I’ve pulled at least
four to seven have grown back in its place.
How am I supposed to keep up with that?
And if we don’t pull them now while they are sprouts, they will be much
harder to pull.
When we moved into this house, there
was a large tree growing near the house.
The neighbors’ driveway was starting to crack as the roots were pushing
into the foundation. She called it a
trash tree and said it needed to be removed. The stump still remains in our
yard and thus we haven’t seen the roots attached. I’m certain that they are red (or were – it’s
possible that they have died off by now)
When I first saw the pigweed sprout
up, I was certain that they were/are daughters of the trash tree – that could
have been something else. Whatever it
was it wasn’t intentionally planted. It
just grew there and made a mess.
I remember hearing the Biblical
stories of Joshua defeating different cities with the instruction and help of our
God. They had to kill babies. Little babies. Innocent babies. That bothered me for the longest time –
because all babies are born innocent.
Even Hitler (no matter how hard to believe) was born innocent. And yet that would have been the best time to
get him – drop him, strangle him, drown him . . .
There are so many films and themes and
movies devoted to time travel. What
if? What if we could save Kennedy? What if we could destroy Hitler before he
even knew what power was?
One show depicts the midwife taking
the baby and throwing it in the river.
Mrs. Hitler is devastated and insists that the child is replaced. A kidnapped baby is brought to her that she
may raise him as her own. She calls him
Adolf.
And no matter how often the attempt to
save him is made, Pres. Kennedy always ends up getting killed. It has already happened. Though the idea of traveling back in time to
save him is appealing, it does not exist.
He died at the hands of whom? Lee
Harvey Oswald? A conspiracy perhaps?
When I think of the weeds and the time
traveling non-changes, it makes it easier to understand and accept scriptures
like Joshua 6:21.