From the Popcorn’s Point of View - a composition written in 1981

 This is the only composition I had scanned.  My first paragraph ends with the comment good.  My last paragraph ends with the comment disarming.  I received 22 points.  I don’t know what that is in relation to.  If there were 25 possible points I think I did rather well.  But the paper itself was an atrocious mess.  So maybe it’s 22 out of 100?  I don’t know. I think I went overboard on the contractions. 

My instructor may have docked me for at least one spelling error but as I type this I have found some others that he hadn’t underlined (or pointed out).  My typewriter did not have spell check but word does.  Thus my spelling errors have been corrected but I tried to leave paragraphs and commas as what I had turned in.  I have included two paragraphs from the original I had handed in.

 That particular English class was a rather easy grade as I recall.  So I’m thinking 22 was a decent grade.  But maybe not.  Typing this up for this blog post has been fun for me.  I laughed a lot – probably more than you (the reader) will.

 

You won’t believe how hard it is to be a popcorn kernel. Unlike humans, we don’t make our [own] decisions.  Humans determine how we grow, when we’re to be shipped and sold, and the end result – our career.

We start out as a hardy variety of Indian corn.  We are small kernels and we live in small ears.  We have a tough skin, and that’s how humans can genuinely tell us apart from regular corn, or corn seed. After we are harvested, we are bagged and shipped.

Some mortals will put us in this greasy substance called oil.   At first we think we are getting a bath or something.  The pool is greasy, but we start out feeling good because we think the steam may be tenderizing our skin.  Only the feeling doesn’t last for long.  Quickly, one by one (sometimes two of us will go at a time) will jump to the top and hit our heads on the ceiling.  Some mortal beings will think we are growing, but we’re actually turning into a “Hulk” formation.  You’d burst too if you were frying in a grease while melted butter drips all over your body.

Once we are popped, most people will scarf us down like it is their last time they will ever taste popcorn.  They buy or take us to the movies, and plop us in their mouths while their bugged eyes focus on the screen.  (Well, there are some cases in which we never get eaten, because the humans are too busy practicing mouth to mouth resuscitation.)

Sometimes we are bunched together.  Humans call us popcorn balls.  They stick us together with just about anything.  They use Jello, Karo syrup, honey, brown sugar, caramel, and things like that.

People don’t do it as much as they used to, but still we get some who will poke holes through us and string us around a pine tree.  We become part of the Christmas decoration, and we feel really special.  We are admired by people of all ages and sizes.  It is just really neat. 

Also Creative mortals have used us as part of a picture decoration.  I remember a few friends who were glued to a sheet of blue construction paper.  The paper was used to represent the sky, and my friends portrayed the snow.  We’ve been used in other pictures too. 

Some of us don’t even have to be blown up and go through the “steam-pot” humility.  Folks can still make pictures out of us even though we aren’t popped.

There was this human person who dressed 483 of us in paint.  Some were brown.  Some were black.  Some were many other colors.  The human used the brown kernels for the turkey’s body.  He used the red, green, yellow, and purple kernels for the feathers, the black kernels for the eye and the orange kernels for his feet.  I knew a lot of kernels that had fun having that as their career.

Also men have used us for markers when they play a game.  Sometimes they place a number of us in a jar, and other humans have to guess how many of us there are.

My conclusion is that sometimes it does seem very hard to be a popcorn but we do make people happy.  I guess it’s like a school education, carrying all those books around and writing stupid compositions may get hectic, but the outcome is rewarding.

Here are two paragraphs taken from the paper I had turned in.  How pathetic.

Letters From Rexburg: More Discoveries

                Among the photos that Jai and I have gone though were several letters that evidently had come from my mom’s house. I have many memories from my past.  I remember a lot of details. I have mostly positive memories but there are a few that aren’t so pleasant.  For the most part I have succeeded at blocking out the bad memories. I thought I had been pretty good about keeping the pleasant ones but am learning it is only for up until a certain age – or so it seems. 

I attended Ricks College from September 1981 to the end of April 1982. (Keep in mind that this is back in the day before personal computers, emails and social media.  Our communication was written correspondence and telephone calls – NOT cell phones, but phones that used dials and curly cords) 

  It appears I had written to my family at least three times a week.  I have few memories of my college days.  The letters haven’t changed that at all. I’m quite annoyed at how often I repeat myself.  I recognize some of the names I provide but certainly not all of them.  There were more discovery moments than actual memories.  Nothing scan worthy – though I have scanned a few things as I am impressed with my handwriting and print looking nicer then than it does now.  Evidently I had taken my typewriter with me.  Don’t remember that at all. 

I made mention of a certain speaker who spoke at a devotional. That did trigger a memory having the opportunity to attend Devotionals each week. We also had the opportunity of purchasing two devotionals on cassette tape available in the book store. On September 15, 1981 I informed my dad about a speaker named M. Russell Ballard. I found it was interesting that I had mentioned that as M. Russell Ballard was not yet an apostle of the church.  He was set apart just over four years later.  I did mention the very last devotional on one of my posts (here).

 For the most part I was more fascinated by the stationary itself than the contents.  I was also impressed that some of the stickers were still intact while others had fallen off.  After 40+ years I would have thought all the stickers would have lost their adhesive.  Apparently not. 

Among my discoveries I read that I had considered staying at the college and attending summer semester.  I don’t know what happened there.  I needed two credits to finish my freshman year. I had been looking into summer theatre (which was NOT my major; interestingly enough it is Jaime’s.)  Evidently there didn’t seem to be enough choice in classes that I wanted to commit myself.  That is what the letter said anyway.  I’m sure there was more to it – but alas I do not have the details nor do I remember that consideration.

Kindergarten Notebook for Journaling

     Jaime had the most awesome kindergarten teacher.  We both loved Miss Webb.  She had the ability to teach all the children on their own level.  Of course it helped to have parents volunteer whenever the children were put into groups.   and would have liked to finish the year.  Jaime was in the learning advanced group.  She was in the top three academically. Miss Webb had given those children a composition notebook which they used to communicate.  Often she would comment on what they had written or use a prompt to get them started.  Jaime rarely ever needed a prompt.  What an imagination my child has!

Sadly we moved and put Jaime in another school. Miss Webb continued to communicate with Jaime via my facebook account – or so I’m guessing.  There is evidence of conversation but all in my handwriting instead of theirs.  It has been a fun treasure to explore.

I scanned this check list.  Lisa Webb succeeded on all three check marks.  What a remarkable individual!

More Nostalgia and Photos

          I have created so many scrapbook pages – some by hand, probably more on the computer.  It’s not the same.  And I do like the tangible die cuts and stickers and perks of hand scrapbooking as opposed to the computer. The computer also has perks such as changing sizes to make it fit – though not as polished.  Especially over the years as the photos start to fade.

Throwing away photos has always been hard for me but does seem necessary. I had packed away three small boxes of photos with the intent of sitting down with Jai to scrapbook though she has seldom been interested.  She enjoys talking about photos and strolling down memory lane – for a time at least.  I had cut shapes on some of the photos but did not have them in order.   

Did not work out to my expectations however.  I think in the last 8 years I may have just added photos and never looked at them until yesterday. Many of the photos I had scanned but seems like I may have missed others.  Thus I have some work cut out for me as there are some photos she would like to save.  Others I have thrown away – which was hard but necessary.

I did set aside some photos to send to Tony and his family as I’m certain that my grandkids will get a kick out of seeing them.  Neither Biff nor Randy have that nostalgia built in though I think Biff would like to try.  He was the only one who held onto his baby book and does enjoy looking at pictures.  He has many years of building up items and needs to let go.  He may hang onto whatever I give him though it will get neglected and end up in the trash at some point during his life anyway. 

Currently I have sorted piles  - one to send to Tony, one to scan. It will take time.  We haven’t even finished the first box and we still have two more to tackle. More to come. ;)

What I Don’t Miss and Gratefulness

It’s been a week since Biff and his clan moved out and we brought Jaime home. 

I don’t miss having the washing machine and dryer going constantly

I’m grateful for the quiet.

I don’t miss their car in our driveway when I’m backing out

I am grateful to have more width.

I don’t miss the open butters on top of paper wrapping near the toaster.

I’m grateful that Richard and Jaime know how to use the butter dish.

I don’t miss seeing open doors revealing what look like storage closets instead of bedrooms

I’m grateful her college experience has taught Jaime to keep up a tidy appearance in her room  and not the sty that Biff and Claire vacuumed only once a month – if that.

I don’t miss the long showers that each of them would take.

I’m grateful to have hot water when I just need to wash my hands.

I don't miss the procrastination or seeing them waste time.

I'm grateful that we all keep the same hours - early risers.

I don’t miss their weird food or searching for things or duplications of open items

I am grateful that we are all more observant and less wasteful.

I don’t miss the constant disappearance of dishes

I am grateful to have a dishwasher and dishes to wash.

I don’t miss Ally’s loud voice and obliviousness toward other household members.

I am grateful for the quiet.

I am so grateful that they finally have their own place.  

I'm certain that they are too.

Reminiscing June 19th and Father’s Day

           We moved to Oregon on June 17, 2015 and attended the South Umpqua ward for the first time on June 21which happened to be Fathers’ Day.  I remember thinking how it felt like such an odd meeting as both speakers seemed to be promoting social media.  There was absolutely no mention about Fathers’ Day.  Jaime was disappointed as the ward we had come from always provided light entertainment to those who were fathers. Perhaps the primary children had sung to the men during priesthood? 

          I hadn’t made the connection of Juneteenth holiday being today.  Each year facebook reminds me of our move to Oregon, our return to Utah in 2017 and our trip to New York in 2020.  And this year of regaining possession of our house as the other three have moved out and they are NOT going to return.  I am grateful for some of the experiences I had as a result of their living here but honestly am more grateful having them gone. So Juneteenth will always have another meaning for me as these are the memories I have recorded.

I Don’t Think it was Worth 60 Dollars but she does

                Jai has always wanted to do a yard sale and got her chance today.  She had set it up nice, but the availability seemed quite lame compared to other yard sales I’ve seen.  If the buyer had a heart set on stuffed animals or cos play head gear, our yard sale was exceptional – but for the more mature lookers our yard was a huge disappointment.

          Richard told us to label all the items but Jai didn’t wish to do that.  She did wish to haggle – which I personally don’t like to do.  Perhaps she would have made more money if I hadn’t been there to “assist” – I was all for cheap and free but Jaime seemed to overprice things.  But she also had a sign that said “Make Me an Offer”  It wasn’t her fault that the signs continued to blow down. 

          They had belonged to her and she finally parted with them so the money is hers.  She has put it toward camping.  Another hoo-rah with her high school pals.  I think that’s great they have kept connected as they have. 

          Anyway, we had the yard sale today figuring it was great weather.  Cool enough that we didn’t feel scorched.  Yet at the same time the wind did a number on me.  I am tired.  But not as tired as I was the first day we attempted to clean the shed.  We have made more than a dent and have room now.  I like that.

Well I am Ready to Die

                Biff and Clair have moved but failed to take all their stuff with them.  Meanwhile Jaime is moving in.  She has belongings in one shed and is going through all the stuff that was thrown in the other shed before Biff and Claire moved in.  We have organized both sheds to a degree.  Camping and tools is one.  Christmas, memorabilia and other miscellaneous items in the other.  Plus stacks of crap items belonging to Biff’s family though I think there is more on the deck than what’s in the shed.  I want it gone.

               I was so exhausted and soar yesterday.  Today was much easier.  We did 30 minutes of work and break and work again.  Yesterday was overcast and 60ish until about two.  And we stopped – at least outdoors.  Jaime went through many of her stuffed animals yesterday and is going through other bins today.  Today’s highest was 69 and we were blessed with cool winds as we worked.  I think we stopped working at 2:00 outside but still have loads to go through from what we brought in –

               Meanwhile I have discovered a few items that I had made reference to but figured got left in West Valley Utah as I didn’t remember seeing them again until this afternoon and had Jaime take some pictures that I could post.

Why Do It Now When You Can Put It Off Until The Last Minute?

           I have always been a “get it out of the way as soon as possible” type of gal.  I HATE procrastination.  Always have.  There are many things I am willing to do spontaneously but not calling upon others to assist or attend without warning.  Such as getting married or being advanced in the priesthood or attending the temple for the first time (see here). 

           Perhaps Richard and I had not set the finest example by giving everybody just eight hours or less.  Everybody knew that the day was coming. I wasn’t expecting anybody to put their lives on hold for us or getting the turnout that we did. 

          Biff has always kept things to himself and will casually announce his big plan for “tonight” – I need more notice than “oh, by the way . . .”  They said they’d be moving out today – but I had been hearing that for two weeks.  Saturday.  No Wednesday.  Even when I saw the bed frame on the porch I had my doubts.  They slept on the mattress(es) for the last three or four days.  Is that all?  It seems as though it had been longer.

          I heard them up early – well, for them.  Biff was gone when I had returned from the first water fitness class – but Clair and Ally were in the front room watching some program on the Disney Channel.  Biff had already taken a few carloads to the rental they’ll be moving into tomorrow.  But I didn’t see anything to fulfill the promise of moving out today.

          At 2:00 they left the house as Ally had an appointment.  I don’t know when they made the time (or expense) of getting the truck.  But it is now in our driveway.  Biff, Clair and Richard are loading.  I offered to help and decided my contribution would be with keeping Bonnie in the room with me so that she’s not in the way.  Good luck with their own dog.  That could be Ally’s job . . .

          They started loading at 5:30 I guess.  5:30 p.m. That seems an odd time to start loading up.  Richard suggested I call the missionaries to what?  Drop whatever else they have going to come assist?  If they had had warning they could have penciled into their agenda.  It’s 85 degrees outside but at least there is a breeze so that will be helpful. 

          We’ll be picking up Jaime from Ashland tomorrow and she will be able to have her room back.  Richard will be able to move his desk from the back room into what was his office since we moved in.  And we’ll be able to find the back room and go through the sheds.  Guess we all have a fun summer ahead of us.  I would still like to go to Salt Lake and visit my sibs and Tony and his family.

Yard Sale Rats

           You know that it’s summer when neighboring lawns become littered with household goods and florescent colored poster boards come out to advertise great and big yard sales (which usually are neither great nor big) and arrows to point the way to mostly junk with hidden treasures.  Richard and Jaime will spot yard sales from a mile away – I rarely notice even if I am standing in said yard. 

Yard sailing each weekend doesn’t appeal to me – though we had a specific hunt and hit 5 yard sales yesterday – making an unnecessary purchase at four – spending the most at the estate sale.  No refrigerator though.  We don’t need one but Biff and Clair will be leaving and are in need of something bigger than the 20 inch fridge that they purchased specifically for Ally’s shot medicine.

Yesterday seemed like a good day for yard sales.  Heavy clouds with the promises of rain – at least that’s how the sky read.  There was no rain, but the air wasn’t unbearably hot.  It was a good temperature.

Looking Forward to Having Space Again

           We’ll be picking Jaime up on Tuesday.  The other three should be out before her return.  They were supposed to move in today but a water line broke.  Always something.  I have really been trying to let things go and apply the scriptures to my current situation.  Sometimes I am successful but only sometimes.  More often I find myself irritated with all these little bits of ember that add up into a fiery blaze.

          I didn’t wish to focus on my irritations but at the same time knew that I needed to write things down as a reminder why they are never coming back to live under the same roof as me – smiling as I do it because I think about their also keeping a list of reasons why they will never return.  I’m guessing they are more excited by the move of finally getting out on their own than I am to see them go. I personally don’t believe they are financially prepared. We have tried to tell them but there are some things that need to be learned through experience.

          I see scenarios with our treatment toward them and our Heavenly Father toward us.  We may ask Heavenly Father for blessings but rarely does he grant us those blessings right away – at least in my experience.  He sends me the tools that I may obtain the blessing with His guidance. Sometimes the blessing I thought I wanted turns out to be something greater – but always in His due time though there have been a few that have been in mine.

          Richard’s solution has always been to provide – give, give, and give some more even when there is nothing left to give.  He still hasn’t been able to cut the apron strings.  It’s not that I wish to see Biff and Clair suffer.  I would like to see them grow.  I would like to see them find other resources – which perhaps they already have.  I don’t know.  They have slowly allowed us into their lives but for the most part have attempted to do everything without saying a word to us.  They have tried to do it on their own.  But really we can’t do everything on our own.  We all need others to draw from and to confide in. We need to rely upon our Maker.

          I wish they were moving away further than they are.  They wanted to be closer to Portland but are going to be ten minutes further – not that big of deal, but it would be nice if they could be only an hour’s drive instead of three – how they make it in just three, I’ll never know. That is the amount provided by Google.  Google doesn’t take into account the congestion of traffic or detours due to construction.  Apparently neither have they. 

          I wish them well.  Looking forward to having my space again.

Liking Those McDonald Straws

          Before 2020’s pandemic the governor of Oregon put a ban on plastics – namely plastic bags and straws. That year came with the price of five cents per plastic bag (which is still way cheaper than paying sales tax) and asking for straws – many (such as Costco) which offer those crummy paper straws  which ruin the taste of whatever drink I may have ordered.

          A shopper is always asked if he/she would like a bag or bags and will be charged five or ten cents per bag.  Many  stores (including Walmart see here and here) have have done away with plastic bags and may offer alternatives such as reusable (which may be made of 100% plastic?) I would think for less than three dollars.

        The McDonald’s in Myrtle Creek still gives out the fat McDonald’s straw though  these three articles (here, here and here) imply that there has been a change to paper in the UK and possibly California – so why would Myrtle Creek have the privilege of passing out the plastic straw?  Doesn’t matter.  My post is not to fault the McDonald’s or point fingers but to recall a memory about why I love the McDonald’s straw (the big fat plastic ones). I think of my dad whenever I see them

My dad had had several strokes in the last two years of his life.  With each stroke his brain was affected with the lack of controlling his muscles. He had to have assistance with walking, and slowly lost the ability to eat, drink and talk.  We used to buy thick liquids (peach nectar was the thickest we could find at the time) and look for straws that were thick like McDonald’s because those were the best straws.  I was grateful for the times that we were able to obtain extra straws.

Thank you for your fat straws. Good luck with another solution.