150 Words More To Go

The topic for this mod's final assessment is

to write 1000 to 1250 words on the topic:

major disclosure and conceptual objectives of 

consolidated financial statements. 

How in the world does is an instructor able

to get through 15 - 30 assessments. 

The topic alone - let alone an entire paper

- is enough to put me to sleep. 

I know that there are instructors who might

not even read the paper, just

scan through it, make certain that

everything meets APA standards -

does not seem to matter what the

contents are.  I hate that!  What

difference does my APA paper make if

I don't understand the material I'm

supposed to write about?!

My current instructor doesn't seem

like a stickler about keeping the

paper in third person and boring.  Thus I

am keeping it in first person - unless he

says otherwise.  The lecture is at 10:30.  Hopefully

there will be enough insight that I

will be able to come up with at least

100 more words.

Almost There

I heard this for the first time last year.  I think it is my new favorite Christmas song.  

Rain and Cold

                It has rained the last three days

which is a good thing. 

            Put that water back

into the beds and

cover the earth until

            it's green again and

the rivers are flowing and

            not just puddles. 

I am usually hot on

            the inside when it is

raining outside, though

            I don't know why. 

But the last three days have

been cold. 

Salt Lake's November cold. 

            I think it should be warmer.

It is nice to

have the rain.

I Would Rather Hear It Fresh

            I have mentioned before that both my mom used to  use her children as her sounding board before giving a talk or presenting a lesson.  For my mom, it was a lack of confidence in herself.  She needed the feedback, the practice, the input to build up her confidence.  She yearned for ideas on how to improve.  She would go over it again and again until we knew it better than she did - or at least in the case of Corey and me.

            Roland does the same thing - only he does not lack confidence.  I thought he did it for validation - but he says it is because he values my opinion.  Talks and lessons are one thing, but lately his ideas and thoughts have had to do with his participation at the theatre.  I am not in the theatre.  I am not part owner in the theatre.  I don't manage, perform or have any input with the owners.  I know my personal preference varies with theirs and certainly with Roland's. 

            It isn't his job to write the skit, but he was asked to emcee and somehow feels obligated to contribute more.  He'd like to do a "Burns & Allen" type skit while reading a story to a seagull puppet.  I suppose my input was helpful as Roland's first choice of story was out of the Bible and suggested he change it to "Twas the Night Before Christmas" as it is a familiar one, and cracking jokes (even a childish innocence) after every other line would go over better with the audience than offending several audience members with lines like "Why did the wisemen bring gold and frankenstien and not diapers?" or "espoused wife?  you mean they weren't even married?"  and gear his jokes toward Santa Clause and the reindeer.

            Some of the jokes were funny.  I smiled at a few of them, but never laughed out loud.  I certainly wasn't providing a belly laugh that I suspect Roland was looking for.  Jenna provides more sincere laughter, and is able to re-laugh at a joke she's heard before - but each time he tells the same joke, I give a weak smile and sometimes roll my eyes when he isn't looking.  The freshness has worn off for me.  Though he is proud of his contribution and shares the praises and compliments he's received for creating laughter, it has gotten stale.  I don't even smile anymore.

            When Corey and I give talks, we practice on ourselves.  It's rare for each of us to call on another to sit through something that he or she will be sitting through in church or elsewhere.  We want it to be fresh for them just as we would like to hear it fresh.  Neither way is wrong or right.  They are just different is all.   

Christmas Makeover

            At no time of the year do I believe in Disney's Toy Story than between Thanksgiving and Christmas - although it isn't so much the toys that move and form personalities, but rather the Christmas decorations that I am certain I had packed and carefully labeled each box.  I know exactly where they were located in January - the beginning of the year.  But by the end of the year, I notice that the decorations have moved around.  They have managed to move from box to box, shelf to shelf and all figure that it's been so long that I won't remember where I had put them in the first place.

            As I mentioned in an earlier post, Jenna had retrieved four boxes of decorations - yet I knew that a whole slew of ornaments were missing, and Christmas socks and . . .  lights.  Where are the lights?  And how is it that lights always manage to tangle themselves no matter how carefully they are put away?  It's a personality thing.  Lights are notorious for having parties when we aren't looking.  They dance, they play twister, and then they laugh when we open the box to pull them out.  They are definitely the most ill behaved of all Christmas decorations.

            Roland and I returned to the shed while Jenna was in school.  We found four more boxes of decorations.  Why in the world do we have eight boxes?  And where are the nativities?  I can't imagine that Joseph, Mary, baby Jesus, the wise men and shepherds would be as naughty as the light strings.  Or bows.  How are two decorative bows able to undo themselves in a box with the outside ornaments - which, by the way, Jenna insisted on putting up last night - in the dark.  Why couldn't she just wait until tomorrow when she gets home early?

            The rain came.  Still quite misty outside.  Perhaps she was smart about decorating last night.  It adds brightness.  We still have to do the inside tree.

Long Weekend

            My head seems to be disconnected from my body.  Pretty much the entire week I didn't remember what I was supposed to be doing. Jenna was off from school, Roland took off work, but I still had school.

            It rained on Wednesday. It was great as we have needed (and continue to need) the moisture. My class instructor was late getting started on the live lecture. When he finally did get to the topic of conversation, I had to leave before he got into the meat of the assignment.

            Jenna and I had hair appointments.  I normally appreciate the feel and look of my new fresh cut hair, but am having problems with not hating it this time around.

            On Thanksgiving day we went to the Grand Victorian for a potluck combination Thanksgiving dinner/cast party.  I think there were 18-20 people who finally showed up after the designated time.  Roland seemed to know many along with Jenna.  I knew of six - including myself.  For the most part my Thanksgiving was spent in the company of strangers - one in particular who was stranger than the rest.

            I don't know why she showed up at the theatre.  The owner said that it was a private party, but his wife offered to make her a dinner to go even though Roland thought she should stay.  It was in the spirit of Thanksgiving afterall.  But there were two who absolutely did not want her there - and yet she stayed - I think to get warm.  She didn't really eat anything, but just stirred different foods around her plate - and then got up for more as though she had been eating.

           She also tried to engage in conversation by blurting out experiences that weren't even relevant to what others were saying.  Jenna liked her, but the one who sat between Jenna and the intruder was one of those who definitely hadn't wanted her there.  I had moved a chair from the spot where she ended up sitting as it was in the way of those moving from one food table to the next, but Roland had her find another chair for that exact spot.  People kept asking her to move.  I don't think she fully caught on that she was literally in the way.

            The owner had started playing the movie "Sing" but stopped before auditions.  How sad.

            Roland insisted that we go shopping on Black Friday.  Of course my allergies have gone through the roof and I am paying for it today.  Why did I even agree?  I have made it no secret how I feel about shopping - especially at this time of the year.

            We got home to find Jenna in the shed hoping to have all the Christmas decorations set up in the house before we arrived. I opted not to decorate as I learned the missionaries would be coming over to continue teaching Marva and possibly Shelly. Marva called to see if we were still on, and then the missionaries called to reschedule.  Today at 2:00.  It was something we had all agreed upon. 

            Meanwhile Jenna had gotten together with her friend, Marie so that they could practice for the auditions for the Grand Victorian Christmas special.  Marie spent the night.  They laughed and had fun.  This morning they both left the house to continue practicing.  Jenna's initial plans were just to meet up with Roland at the 6:00 try-outs, but was home before noon.

             The missionaries stood us up.  Didn't even bother to make contact until after 6:00.  That's not right.  Meanwhile Shelly and Jenna opened up a gingerbread house and decided they wanted different candy.  Roland took them to the store to pick out what they wanted and Marva and I talked while they were gone.  We ate pie and Roland read a bunch of Christmas stories to us including this one.

            Just after 6:00 Marva drove to the theatre in one car and Roland in another.  She decided she would like to audition as well, but Shelly does not wish to perform on stage.   Usually I tend to feel bloated on the Friday following Thanksgiving, but my stomach did not react until about 8:00 or 9:00 p.m. last night - which I don't understand as I did not eat as much.  They definitely weren't hunger pains.  They were the same kind of pains I would imagine the wolf must have felt after the 7 kids and their mother filled his belly with rocks in this story. 

          Shelly spent the night with us.  We will be meeting her mom at church.

Homophones: Peace and Piece

Peace offers silence, comfort, stillness, and even tranquility.

Peace is positive.

Piece, on the other hand, can be positive or negative.

Broken or shattered pieces are negative.

Stepping on a piece of glass for instance

          would offer no peace at all -

quite the opposite really.

Some pieces are clues.  We may

find a piece of history.

We may discover a missing piece that may

connect us to another.

Those kind of pieces may sometimes invite peace.

Then there are some pieces that have no

positive or negative effect. 

They're just there.

Finding the missing piece to

the puzzle,

the broken earring,

the exact fit for replacing the broken part

          in the car.

Those may bring satisfaction -

          which is different from peace.

Emotions may be described using both words.

          "My heart has broken into pieces"

"A piece of my soul has died"

"I need a piece of your love"

          When our hearts break,

we pray for peace.

          When our soul has died,

it is possible to restore through peace.

          Some people think that

Love and Peace are the same thing.

          We may feel a sense of peace as we

admire a work of art or "art piece" but

certain Art pieces can also destroy one's

sense of peace.