Dash HH #10

  What city do you consider your "home town"?

          I grew up in an unincorporated area which meant our town did not have its own jurisdiction . Though we used a Midvale address, we were not really a part of it - or at least that was my understanding.  I do remember just before or shortly after I went to junior high, there was talk of our unincorporated being annexed to Murray.  That was a proposal brought up by one individual named Mr. Card.  I remember several people being upset about it. 

           

            I remember a meeting had taken place at East Midvale Elementary School.  We had gone there like so many others to understand more about what was taking place.  I remember one individual in particular who spoke up for the boundaries to be left alone.  His son, Louie, was in my same grade and he had at least one other son named Phil.  I did not care for either Louie or Phil, but have never forgotten their dad standing up for us.  Mr. M. lived on the other side of 7200 which was not a part of the annex but he said the annex, though maybe not directly, would affect him because we were his neighbors and that did affect him.  We allowed him to be our voice when he said things about Mr. Card's proposal, and that if he wanted to be a part of Murray so much, he should just move there and leave the rest of us alone.  Almost everybody cheered.

           

            I don't know if the proposal ever made it to the ballots or not as I didn't vote and my viewpoint of the annex I'm certain was not the same as the adults who paid taxes.  I only know that the non incorporated boundaries using a Midvale address remained using a Midvale address.  I don't know what became of Mr. Card or if he took Mr. M's advice and moved to Murray.  It doesn't matter.  I didn't care about him then.  Why should today be any different?  He may be deceased right now along with many others who were at that meeting.

            Several years later - when Kayla was old enough to vote, an issue that had made it to the ballot for incorporating the boundaries as part of Midvale or becoming our own independent city called "Union" - I remember several who campaigned for the idea of "Union" believing it would create more jobs and result in being a positive thing.  Evidently not everybody felt that way however as "Union" never came about and we were incorporated into Midvale.  I must have voted for Union as most every issue or person I have voted for throughout my life has not won.  But I never did like that name for a city.  

           I grew up with a Midvale address.  It is the one place where I have lived longer than all other cities combined.  When I get asked the name of my hometown or where I'm from,  I am from Midvale, Utah.  Love Oregon, but Midvale is my hometown.  Or was. 

Word: What's the Opposite of Hard?

Hard is the opposite of Easy.  Hard is also the opposite of Soft. 

I have made several hard boiled eggs in my life time. 

I have eaten my eggs soft boiled before. 

I have had them over-easy, but not easy boiled.

I have sat in chairs that have been very hard.

I have sat in chairs that feel soft. 

I've had an easy time sitting on some chairs

I've had a very hard time with others.

Take the theatre chairs at Jenna's school for instance.

They are not easy to get into. 

They may be soft to the small teenage buttox,

but I am a plump woman who finds it difficult - or hard

to sit comfortably.  I have learned that those teeny bop chairs

are harder to get out of.

Our carpet is not soft to the naked foot

but I would not say that it's hard; it is rough.

I have a hard time keeping my slippers over my toes;

they seem to come off very easily.

I have a hard time keeping focused on my accounting material.

I have had some classes that have been easy.

I would not categorize any of them as "soft".

Sometimes I have difficulty finding something to post about on my blog

Sometimes it is easy, but never soft. 
Jenna thinks saying the word "Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia " is easy
I find it hard to say.  I don't think anyone 
thinks of it as soft.

When asked what the opposite of hard is, my mind, for the most part

use to think of soft before easy.

Now I think of easy first because that's usually the definition

for crossword puzzle clues.

Which definition do you think of first?

For more hard/soft/easy comments, check out this page.

Which Way Does the Flag Face the Nation?

  

Normally I try to stay clear of politics, but with government shut down , it has been on my mind.  My post is meant to be on our reactions and not what is currently taking place (or not taking place) at the white house.

          Roland is an avid follower on Sunday Morning on CBS.  Following Sunday Morning is "Face the Nation" though the station generally gets changed to another before Face the Nation comes on.  This program was on this morning when Jenna and I planted ourselves on the couch and looked up to see Margaret Brennan ask questions to Secretary of State,  Michael Richard Pompeo, who for the most part seemed robotic with his answer - or somebody's answers anyway.  Jenna and I laughed as he obviously read the answers and showed no facial emotion whatsoever - actually there were a few times where he smiled.  Jenna and I suspect he had lost his place on the screen and was smiling to cover up his embarrassment.  I realize that things need to be written down and the importance of sticking to the script so words are not taking out of context - as though that really works.

            When he first started reading, I made a joke that someone had tied his hands behind a chair and he wouldn't be let go until he read everything word for word whether he believed it or not.  Early in the interview Ms. Brennan asked about soldiers (one particular) who were being held captive and what would result in being allowed back into the states. 

            Mr. Pompeo read from the prompter that there was concern- but his facial expression and tone spoke louder than the words he was reading and made him appear as if he was a robot and why would a robot care about a human?

            I think we left to go to Church shortly after that comment and more laughter was shared between me and Jenna.  The government shut-down is a serious thing.  Mr. Pompeo's boss is an overgrown kindergartner - which some will say is an insult to kindergartners everywhere.  I have worked with a large variety of kindergartners and as a whole would have to say it is insulting - but there have been the occasional ones who act out in a "Trump" manner which seems more acceptable for a 5 or 6 year old than . . . well wait a minute.  There have been some 70 plus year olds have a way of resorting to the past.  I remember my mom resorting back to elementary school behavior.  Maybe he has some form of dementia?  It has been speculated many times.

             Our biggest problem is we had a large dose of this BEFORE Trump was inaugurated.  It bothers me that so many people say our choice has always been between Hillary and Trump - like Democrats and Republicans are the only two parties that can be represented.  How in the world did the Whigs or Federalists ever survive?  There are alternatives.  There are others who have said that I wasted my vote by writing in Evan McMullin's name.  I'm NOT a crowd pleaser, never have been.  I'm not going to vote for somebody just because a certain party elected him/her nor am I going to vote for somebody not affiliated with a party because I'm a rebel.  I'll vote for the issues.  I'll vote for the possibilities.  But I'm not going to vote blindly because that's my so-called party.  Why is it that people feel I have to be one or the other?

            Another thing that held my interest was a pin of the American Flag that the Secretary of State wore on his lapel.  

I remembered having read about the origins of the swastika (here) and how it was designed to represent "Good Luck" and how the tables have turned so much that it is now recognized as a sign of a horrific chapter in history - so horrific that I do not even wish to have the symbol anywhere on my blog (though it may be shown in the background of one of the pics used on my bully and mind game post).  I had hoped that would never be the case of the American Flag but already know others who no longer value what it once represented and choose not to say the "Pledge of Allegiance" as they feel the country has gone down (and continues) the toilet.  

The flag once use to represent freedom and honor.  For many it still does represent those things but for others it doesn't represent that anymore.  I don't know anyone who is ashamed of the flag as many of us are of the swastika and hope it never comes to that.  But it's highly possible that the American Flag may have the same symbolic meaning as the swastika in a not-so-distant future.  Situations really need to change.  I feel bad for the next President who has to clean up the mess that Trump's behavior has caused.  

Triggers That Make Me Smile

          Yes, it is unusual to see a bubbled syringe under the title "Smile" as there are so many children who view this as a torturing device.  They run and hide, fidget, scream . . . and why would a mother look upon this reminder of such dramatic uncooperativeness as something that would put a smile on her face?  She wouldn't.  But I was blessed with a child who was more than cooperative.  Jenna enjoyed the bubbled syringe.  Unlike most children, Jenna was amused by this devise.  It must have tickled her nose when I attempted to suck out the snot.  She also laughs about Vick's vapor rub because "it smells funny" - and not "funny" as in questioning the expiration date of a product.  Whenever I try to rub it on her she does squirm - but only because she is laughing so hard claiming that it tickles her.  Weird.  But awesome.  I don't know of any other mother who has shared this same experience.

From Where I Stand

          I try to keep the room cool so I can fall asleep more easily.  Last night it was cold.  I still managed to sleep.  But I felt overly warm at 3:30 this morning.  When the heat kicked on I moved into the bathroom and stood by the window until the heat shut off.  I then wrote the following:

From where I stand

I can hear the traffic

moving over I5

but I cannot see it

Even if the fog wasn't there

From where I stand

I cannot see Old Pacific Highway

I can barely see the street

where I live

From where I stand

I can hear the trains

I know the tracks were not

completely abandoned

But had never seen a train

in Myrtle Creek

until the other day

when I went to meet my friends

for coffee.

I parked between Good Dogs and

the park and I saw the train

passing the tracks where Jenna

and I have explored and

taken several pictures.

From where I stand

I somehow seem to always hear

more than I can see

Journal Entry

          Before school was back in session I had accepted two job assignments - one was for yesterday.  I had worked with the person I was replacing, but had never worked in her place.  Meanwhile, I had received a call from an aide at one of the other schools.  In a way I prefer her schedule over the one I had lined up for myself yesterday. She primarily works with the middle schoolers and does not have an assigned recess.  She is there for breakfast duty but doesn't have lunch duty.  I like that.

         

          After I returned home, I turned on the computer to view at least one missing lecture.  Both had been posted - but once again,  the accounting instructor just read through each slide and problem.  There was no mention of discussion, assignment and so forth.  Like I'm going to purposely sit through that.  The other did go over the expectations, and fortunately there was a read-along, because I was bothered with trying to listen to the recording without going insane as the volume kept fading in and out - which to me is worse than a distorted picture.

          I have not checked the possible work assignments for today, but think I will stay home to work on my assignments so that I can have them turned in by tomorrow morning and not have to worry about either class until next week.  Finals, for the most part, don't seem to require as much time as the other three weeks.  It is a short day.  I am confident that each school will be able to function without my being there today.

Dash HH #4

Home and Health #4:  "In childhood, did you share a bedroom with siblings or have a room to yourself?" 

          I believe it was in 1961 when my parents purchased the three bedroom house in Midvale.  I joined them a year later and had my own room.  I'm certain that I must have started my life in our new house in my parents' bedroom sleeping in a white bassinet.  I don't know how old I was when I was given my own room or why I ended up where I did.  My room was the furthest from mom and dad's room.  I think they put me in there as I was a light sleeper and heard every sound.  That is the first room I remember being mine.

          I don't know how old I was when I requested that my room be painted pink, but I remember I had to take down my posters.  I had three of girls with big eyes.  I don't even remember what each was doing or holding.  I just remember there were three backgrounds: one blue, one yellow and one pink.  

this is a scrapbook page that I created
The pictures are approximations and not actual.

          After my dad had finished painting my room, he took down the masking tape covered in pink paint.  When I went to retrieve my posters I could find two - the yellow and blue backgrounds.  I did not see the "big eyes" with the pink background.  Instead I saw a pile of masking tape surrounded by pink color.  I started crying because I thought it was my missing poster.

          Mom had painted a chair and desktop white with brass colored decals to match my white headboard. 

These aren't exact.  The center shows  the color. 
The bottom design is closest to some that were used

She had also made curtains from a fabric of white background and animals like bears and zebras dressed in pink and blue clothes - I think.  It's been quite a while and so probably not accurate.

The curtains are not the same, but the colors are close

          I was in the fourth grade when Corey was born.  When mom put the crib in my room, I had moved in Patrick's bedroom which was between my room and my mom and dad's room.  I don't know why there were two beds in his room.  The frames weren't always lined up with the mattress and sometimes someone would bump into the frame and hurt shins and below.  I remember one time Patrick was teasing me and dad was about to rescue from his taunting torture when he became a victim of the bed frame.  He left the room just as quickly as he had entered. 

          Neither Patrick nor I understood what had happened until after the fact.  Daddy's foot swelled up and the color made it appear as though he stamped grapes for a living. 

This picture represents one that has stomped
grapes and not my dad's foot.

The most amazing thing about what had taken place was dad's spiritual attitude.  He had been really angry when he had entered the room - angry enough to hurt Patrick (which was rare as my dad was a very mild-mannered man who would never hurt anyone) and considered the "frame bite" a blessing that prevented him from destroying Patrick.  What awesome faith!

          By the time Kayla came along, my parents had hired someone to refinish the basement - or at least half of it.  It was a bitter-sweet moment.  I had spent a many of hours roller skating in our basement.  I used to fasten Dawn dolls to my roller skates and pretend they were driving cars. 

we don't have an actual photo; I had
to improvise to create a illustration

Bitter as I would no longer be able to roller skate in the basement.  Sweet that I'd be getting a brand new room.  Once again I chose pink for my walls.  My curtains were gingham blue and my carpet was green.  Sounds ghastly, but it looked great with the wallpaper.  I had made this and the above page for the scrapbook that Jenna and I started here.  

Just for the record, I do not care for pink.  

Especially pastel.  

I  lived in that same house up until that I got married.  The house was not sold until after my mom needs had changed and we visiting her at assisted living.

It Felt Rushed

          It is the first Sunday of the year and the year of change as we have dropped an hour.  There will now be two Sunday schools per month, two RS (YM/YW, Priesthood) per month.  Apparently all the organizations except for the primary will meet together on the 5th Sunday.  Primary is still its own separate thing.  Whereas, two hours of primary seemed way too long at times, this one hour deal is like blinking your eyes.  At least that is how it felt today.

         

          On the first Sunday last year there were 15 children the valiant class alone.  I don't know how many were in the others.  This year we have only two classes: CTRs and Valiants.  There are no Sunbeams this year, and only three Valiants.  Two instructors are definitely needed in CTRs this year - what a wide assortment of ages.  Perhaps only 20 minutes of lesson time has improved that?  I don't know.  I was with the three.  And there's one who does not attend every week, so mostly it will be just two and two.  That seems weird.  But whatever.

          We have a new chorister recently called to primary - though she had served in the presidency before.  She always has illustrations to go with each song and made a game for one today.  We learned the song and had time for only two more songs to sing after that.  I think she was over prepared - though it was fun.  It seemed that more time was needed.

          We then went to class.  Two of our children took turn being leaders and we each followed them down the hall around the primary doors and back to the classroom - which this year is one that we have never met in before.  Initially when we had gone to our room, we learned that we had been locked out and so that in itself took away time from a 20 minute lesson.

          Danny had prepared a match game after the children had guessed all the letters to "Ways to Follow Christ" - match games can go quickly or drag on.  This may have dragged at a normal level, but as we were running out of time, Danny started matching pairs with numbers the children had not picked - though I believe they still had fun.

          It's funny how different people can look at the same set of guidance and still be on two different paths.  For instance, I did not get the primary outline but had searched for it on the web but felt frustration in not finding a primary outline that seemed to work with our individual outline - which I believed was that entire point of this new program.  Danny said it confused her, too.   She said that is why she taught the lesson from the individual guide rather than the primary outline.  She did?  Wow.  Her understanding of the lesson had been so much different from my own.  The message I got from my individual and family study was on forgiveness and prayer.

          It's great that we are encouraged to share with one another our own perspectives as we do all have different ideas and are able to grow at we feed one another and stay in tune with what the Spirit needs each of us to learn - Roland said his instruction was on "Giving All that We Have"  Wow.  And all of these are valid and teach us values that we need to understand.  I'm grateful for member and family support.

Ghost and Midnight

I have seen two different cats hanging around our house.  Jenna has named the three that she has seen and Roland says he's seen four. None of them appear to be scroungy or "homeless" and I have wondered what it is that attracts them to our yard in the first place.  Perhaps it was when Roland put up the bird feeder - though we haven't seen too many birds this winter.  

I'm pretty sure that the black cat is a tom.  He wants nothing to do with people.  He runs away if we open the door - and he always dashes off as if he is trying to escape whatever he's guilty of.  Jenna calls him Midnight.

I don't recall ever having seen Ghost before we came home from our Christmas vacation.  She is really friendly, well kept.  We're certain that she belongs to somebody, but we don't know who.  She likes attention.  She wants to cuddle.  She has very soft fur.  Jenna loves her.

I took several pictures of Ghost.  These are the ones which turned out the best.

This is Jenna's favorite

I do not have any pictures of Midnight.

Bi-weekly word: Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia

Well, I was going to save this for next week, but might as well post this right now as I have learned one of my assignments for next week is quite time consuming and I'm wondering if I will be able to post at all.  Only two and a half accounting classes to go.  June will be here in no time.

The word " Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia" has 15 syllables.  15!  It's a real word that rolls of Jenna's tongue the way "sunset" or "syllable" might roll off my own tongue.  The word "Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia" means "the fear of long words".  Well, that is just rude to saddle on one who has said phobia.  The origin and breaking apart of the 15 syllable word are found in this post by Jacob Oleson.

Jenna LOVES long words.  The more syllables it contains, the better the word, in her opinion.  Oh, she is not an avid speller of words, not even phonetically (which Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia appears to be for the most part.  Spelling has never been her thing.  But saying words and understanding their definitions.  Hey, if the word contains more than four syllables, she's all over it. It isn't just a recent thing either.  She has always had a fascination for big words.  

When she was two, she would say the words "Hippopotamus" and "Rhinoceros" as though it was perfect acceptable for a two-year-old to adapt 4 and 5 syllable words into their vocabulary.  I told her she could say "Hippo" and "Rhino" in order to shorten and make them easier to say.  She looked at me as though that was such a foreign concept.  Why would anyone ever replace such beautiful words containing four and five syllables with a shortened nickname that was not as fun to say?

Needless to say, I don't understand where Jenna finds her vocabulary words.  My vocabulary goes to 3 and 4 syllable words like: "purify" and "geriatric" but nothing six to eight syllables.  I think doctors have many syllable words in their vocabulary.  They're always sputing off, "it looks like you have a case of nasopharyngitis or rhinopharyngitis"  Say what?  Oh, that's just fancy talk for "You have a common cold" but the words they use leave you believing that it's something more serious. , I wouldn't have even believed a 15 syllable word existed if Jenna hadn't told me. But then again, many a phobea has many syllables.  I had just never heard of 15 before.

Light Yellow

When Jenna was younger, we 
would sometimes watch shows on demand.  
I cannot remember the name of the program we 
watched geared toward young children on development.  

I thought it was called "Baby Genius" but 
am unable to find a series under that name.  
There are only two episodes I remember more 
detail than others.  One was a special during 
the Christmas holidays on how candy canes 
are made.   

Another I remember teaching colors.  I remember 
yellow specifically.  An egg was cracked open.  
The yolk was identified as "yellow".  And then the
egg was whisked, and milk was added to it for 
"light yellow" 

I think the yolk appears to be more orange than yellow.

I haven't thought about that show for years until 
the last two times I have been beating the eggs
I've made for breakfast.  I watch the yolk mixed 
with the white and add milk and watch as the 
mixture lightens.  

It seems like a weird memory.  But it's the a 
memory that makes me smile when I think about
the early seeds that were planted in Jenna's 
brain development.

Define Your Dash #1

     

            In September I created this post about "Dashes" and how they're to be defined by each of us as we write our memories that spell out our life.  One of my goals this year was to answer one of the dash questions once a week until I got through all 52 of them.  But there are actually more than 52.  Twelve topics provide twelve questions each here though only 52 are highlighted here.  5 each from 6 topics and 4 each of the remaining 6.  

            Some I have already answered without the intent of answering - they just all happen to be subjects that I've posted about.  So I will "define my dash" with some dash questions and some others that I picked up from journal jars or Relief Society handouts (assigning random numbers to the ones not suggested on Family Search.  Mix them up a little.  No order to what I pick - I suppose most of what I've already posted defines my dash.)  But once a week, I will do it consciously.

            I would also like to add a poem or a thought on a particular word (or words) as I did in these two posts (here and here).  The word goal is for twice a month. Those are the goals I have for my blog posts for this year.