Things I have loved of late:

How Suze wanted to help make the pies for our annual re-Thanksgiving the Sunday after. She did a good job, too. I'm going to have to start keeping pie ingredients on hand because she wanted to bake another one this afternoon.

How K~has become Decorator in Chief around our house. He did an awesome job with Halloween and has been a super helper with Christmas as well. In fact, he's just been a super helper, also pitching in for the big turkey dinner and peeling ALL the potatoes.

Luke telling me how this girl he likes reminds him somewhat of me because she likes to read good books and also telling me (upon my appreciating his gratitude for the little things), "Thanks, I got that from you."

That Shane put in a new faucet for the kitchen when the old one fell apart and also hooking up a warming light for my chickens.

How everyone seems to be making extra efforts to keep the house in relative order.

How my co-workers keep inviting us to their parties even though we are old enough to be parents of most of them and even though our lives are, in many ways, worlds apart. Being greeted with a hug at the grocery store at at one such party, in true pleasure at my presence. I love the people with whom I work. It's nice that they love me back.

How Karolyn made me cry today when she mentioned while bearing her testimony how Zack had challenged her family to read a page of the Book of Mormon each day so they could be done by the time he gets home.

The sweetest angel-faces in the world gazing up at me with rapt attention as I told the junior Primary children how prophets had testified of Jesus' birth and assured them He knows and love them each one.

Catching up with Robin--one of my former young women from almost 20 years ago. I love seeing how happy she is and hearing more about the miracle this past year has brought her.

Lil's quilts and friendship and early-morning rides to the gym.

Nancy's consistency as a walking partner--come rain or snow and as a friend--in days dark or sunny.

My long-lost and much-missed friend Sue being spontaneous enough to join me for a Costco run now that we can't ride to the lake together each week.

Melody's perfect timing--calling me for a show, lunch, a trip to the art museum. Perfect times, perfect places, perfect days.

Not having to cook dinner today--especially after two days of cooking last week--and now having a roast leftover in the fridge for a nice dinner tomorrow night!

Spending time making Christmas for my missionary. I think he will love it, but even if he didn't there was so much love and joy in the making. It truly is better to give than receive.

Just yesterday I was thinking about Luke and his new companion and wondering how they were doing and wishing I knew more about his companion (like where in Spain he is from) and what he looked like so I could visualize them together. Luke's time on the Isle of Man has been such a blessing because of the way the Tricketts and a member there who has befriended me on Facebook have kept us current.

This morning I received the following from the Tricketts:

I thought you may like to see Luke's new companion.

He comes from the Basque Region of Spain.

We were delighted to see them both today !

He seems a very likeable young man and they are
getting along together very well.

We have told them to come to see us as often as they
like - especially for a Potato Pie !!!!

Kind regards

Pat and Tom.

I replied to let them know how they have been such wonderful answer to my prayers these past few months. It's been such a blessing to me and I will forever be grateful.

Eighteen years ago I was a struggling SAHM married to a struggling school teacher and we had just moved into this neighborhood when a new friend asked me if I was interested in babysitting her daughter.

I said no.

Then something inside my heart said, "Say yes."

So I went back to my new friend and did what I was told.

The late 20s me is not the best mom to little kids. She was mostly good, had moments of greatness, but was also a little stressed.

But she loved this little girl and enjoyed having her be part of her family by day.




Today that same little girl, now almost 19, showed up at my door to give me a big hug and see how I was doing. I was just getting ready to repack Shane's wound for the first time, so I asked her if she could come back in about 15--which she willing did--and we visited. I showed her the latest pictures of Luke. She wanted to go for a drive so I asked her to take me on an errand and then we drove up Provo Canyon.

Provo Canyon was grey and rainy and ruggedly lovely.

The ride and our visit and her hugs were just what I needed.

I've been remiss. But a friend and cancer survivor urged me to keep track of all of our blessings (I guess I need a notebook...two maybe...one for medical bills and one for blessings. I can only hope the blessing one gets filled up faster than the medical bill one.) In any case, I need to catch up.

Before we heard the news there were two things that happened that week I wanted to remember:

One, my good friend Donnette invited me in for hot chocolate and a chat one evening. We had a good visit and discussed many things, but what stuck with me was something she'd said about her gospel doctrine lesson the previous Sunday (which I'd missed). She talked about prayer and asking for the desires of one's heart. She mentioned the difference between sort of reluctantly resigning oneself to the will of God (waiting for the other shoe to drop) and asking for the desires of your heart. She said it's OK to ask for the desires of your heart. That thought kept running through my head amidst the bleak dark thoughts that came after learning of Shane's diagnosis.

Two, my good friend Lynda and I were meeting with other friends (sort of an extended visiting teaching visit where the sister we teach were there as well as some of the sister they teach and we got it all done in a very fun way) for lunch. Lynda was the first one there and as I approached her she mentioned the burst of happiness, positivity and love she felt emanate from me as I came in and sat down by her. I appreciated so much her words and felt so encouraged by them. In moments since I've thought about how no matter what happens I want to hang on to that--I want to be that person and put out that kind of positive energy even when times are difficult and painful. I'm not sure exactly how to go about it, but I hope being mindful of it will assist me.




I wrote about this more on my other blog, but we do feel blessed by the encouragement, empowerment and advice of family and friends and physicians who are helping us seek the best care for Shane. That sort of puts this week's plans up in the air a bit, but we feel we are on the right track and doing the right thing a little bit later is better than doing the wrong thing or doing the right thing only halfway. While I seek and pray for all the information we need, I also find myself fearing what's more...what's next. Right now I'm praying for courage to be able to accept the next step--whatever it may be.




Lovely notes, comments, e-mails, hugs, prayers, well wishes. They all mean the world to us. We do feel carried by the love, faith and hope of those around us.




And finally, it's such a blessing to have good friends in the right places, even in temporal ways. Maybe in times like this when resources and energy feel used up beyond what I sometimes feel I can deal with, especially in temporal ways. I'm not feeling my best this evening and the thought of making plans for a post-fast Sunday dinner tomorrow (and the next night when we will be in SLC @ Huntsman till the dinner hour) overwhelmed me. As I found myself fighting to stay awake well before 9 p.m. we heard a car pull up and a knock on the door. Our friends who are both friends and employees of our caterer friends showed up with two huge trays of leftovers. (I don't know if I mentioned this before, but I am a huge fan of hand-me-downs and of catering leftovers.) Enough for Sunday and Monday dinner.

I hate (well, only partly) to steal this from our dear TAMN, but we are seriously so blessed.

I just stumbled upon the R.C. Willey bill I've been panicked over. Not because I bought the gorgeous bright red microfiber sectional I wanted there, but because I need to pay off the more-expensive-than-we-thought-it-would-be brake job I financed on 90-days SAC.

The truth is I don't have enough money to pay it and the VISA bill due two days after Christmas (that's what comes out of my meager paychecks--along with the car payment and my tithing).

The statement has been coming to me for the past two months and I didn't even notice the error. Given my current life events I never would have caught it--I would have just overdrafted in order to pay it off.

So this evening I am grateful that sometime since the last statement, someone from Big O Tires happened to notice that they had overcharged me to the tune of three hundred dollars and they bothered to correct the bill.

I think I should be able to just manage the current balance now.

A tender mercy indeed!

Today I am especially grateful I have kept this little side blog as a place to notice, record and give thanks for those sometimes subtle but sweet blessings it might be easy to overlook or take for granted. I know that recognizing our blessings is especially important right now.

The closer it got to 3:30 p.m. Wednesday (our alleged--once we got there the receptionist informed us she didn't have us down for that day, but I had none of that and she worked us in--appointment with the surgeon in which we were supposed to get the results of the MRI and CT scan), the sicker we felt. I cannot even describe it. I had been trying to remain hopeful and have faith, but I really just wanted to throw up.

I could tell Shane felt even worse than I did.


I had no idea how we would be able to endure the usually long wait at the office.


For some reason I decided to run home from work for a second before I headed down to meet Shane at the doctor's office. As I drove up to house I saw a box at my door.

It was the box I have been quite impatiently waiting for long before it was even sent.

A box full of pictures from Luke.


We ended up waiting an hour and a half to go back to the exam room.

The 600 photos on 3 CDs pulled us through until they ran out about 8 long minutes before the doctor entered to give us the news.


All this time I had been so impatient and then I realized the pictures were supposed to arrive exactly when they did--just when we needed them the most.

Melody dropped by. I've missed her. I'm thankful Melody has found a good man to share her life with. I hope he knows how lucky and blessed he is. I'm thankful to know she is my sister-friend forever even though she moved to Highland. Which is almost like moving to Northern Idaho, only different. I'm thankful I had some leftover squash soup to share with her and that she raved about it. Especially since the rest of the family doesn't love it. I'm thankful for hugs from a good friend tonight.

Life is short.

Hug well and hug often.

On a night when I am reeling from the cumulative effects of a number of painful experiences (long stories--don't ask) which have made me take a cold hard look at myself and which led me to decide I need to be more picky about how I invest my time and efforts, and on which I went to my husband's mission reunion instead of my own because it felt more "safe" but I couldn't help but wonder if I was making a mistake, I received the following e-mail:

Hey missed you at the reunion. I hoped you had changed
your mind. It was fun and the food was out of this
world. The hotel was so fancy and beautiful.
I wish you had come. You would have remembered so many
people, and lots would have remembered you.
I'll try and call you Sat. to talk and tell you all
about it.
You were my favorite comp, you know that right? Ok,
lots of love, Sis. XXX

I cannot begin to tell you how much this meant to me. I can only say it was just what I needed.

spring--and with it hope, renewal, Easter, and did I mention hope?

friendship

order (or some semblance thereof)

0% interest

simplifying

weekends

flowers--even week-old funeral funeral flowers. currently I have week-old mums from Tonya on the table at the top of the stairs, two arrangements of recycled flowers from Mel's mother's service that Lynda arranged so beautifully for Julie's shower and left for me to enjoy and a vase of fresh and brightly colored mums Shane brought home tonight after a trip to the grocery store.

Oh Happy Day!

I love me a good Saturday.

Since I had put the most obvious parts of the house in relative order on Friday, when I came home this morning after spending last night handling my mother's post operative care I had no big plans to be productive. As the rain turned into steady snow I knew it was going to be a perfect day.

All but the two youngest were still asleep when I got home. K~ was curled up in a blanket watching a movie and L~ was on the laptop. The house was quiet and cozy. I went to the grocery store to stock up, knowing I didn't want to go out again today.

I browned and seasoned some cubed beef and threw it in the crockpot with generous amounts of carrots, potatoes and onion for stew, then I wrapped myself in one of my favorite quilts and curled up with Rodin.

I took two naps!

Now I'm shutting myself away in my laundry/quilting room to clear a path to my sewing machine and knock out some quilt blocks. If I can keep my life and my house in better order this year I'm going to reward myself by actually finishing a few projects.

I love me a good Saturday.

20 good things for 20 years

1. Waking up this morning trying to muster up enough umph to tackle the negelected dishes only to find one of Santa's elves had done them after he got home late from playing basketball.

2. If you have to be memory-challenged like me it's nice to have someone make up the difference for you, especially when it comes to remembering names. He never forgets a name. This is something for a school teacher who gets 25-30 new students each year in his class, but also knows the names of the rest of the third graders at his school, too. And remembers them (and their birthdays) 17 years later.

3. Sometimes when life comes at you fast and hard you don't know whether to laugh or cry. Lucky for me my other half has a good sense of humor. On most days anyway. This is essential when one has a houseful of teenagers. Especially of the female variety.

4. He's a good man with a good heart. He took the most excellent care of my grandparents lawn and other needs for years, while also being at the beck and call of his aunt and uncle. And now he is the number one landscape consultant for my mother. As well as all the widows in the ward.

5. While his aunt was at the intermediate care unit of the hospital and again recently while his uncle was doing time at the Trinity Mission Shane was such a frequent visitor that he soon learned the names and the stories of their roommates and their neighbors in their respective units. He's nice and friendly like that.

6. Now that my grandmother and his uncle are neighbors at the Jamestown he is a regular there as well. He is now starting to get to know the names of the neighbors. And the help.

7. He's a good dad. We kind of take turns at who's going to diffuse which situation and whose turn it is to play good cop or bad cop. That's nice.

8. The other night we were at dinner with my BIL and SIL and their tiny baby. They had invited my oldest son to come, too. The baby needed a diaper change and it was funny to watch my son's reaction--"We'll I'll never..." Lucky for me his dad (and I know he'll come around when it comes to his own kids) is not adverse to tackling the dirty work when needed.

9. He takes out the trash.

10. Another handy thing to have around when your memory is unreliable is a dedicated journaler. When I need to know when or where or with whom something happened way back in '92 (or even earlier) he knows exactly where to find the information. Amazing, really.

11. He's not addicted to Warcraft or Halo 1, 2 or 3.

12. Best buns in 501s two years in a row back int he 80s. And he's still got it. Way to go!

13. In a world where materialism is all the rage its refreshing to know and love someone who's just not into that. It makes it a little hard to shop for him at Christmas and birthdays, but it's still so much nicer to not have the pressure of keeping up with the Joneses. (Although if someone were passing out iPhones this holiday season I think he might be interested.)

14. Not only does he keep a good record of our lives through his journal, he could also put together a pretty extensive and complete photo documentary. He has a way with candids as well as scenic and wildlife photos. Someday when we have time to organize them it's going to make quite a scrapbook. (tee hee)

15. Did I mention he is a good man? He likes to surround himself with good people and learn at the side of other good men. He tries to look for the best in people and be positive even about those people who try really hard to get on one's bad side.

16. He's a good provider. The road of a school teacher is not an easy one, but he always worked nights and weekends at a second job until he worked so hard to earn excellent grades in his master's program in order to bring in a little more from his first job. He puts in way over 40 hours at school even though its not compensated. And he never made me feel like I needed to work outside the home. When I went back to work after the kids were in school it was my choice.

17. One of the first things that attracted me to him was his love of the simple beauties found in nature. He helped me become more aware and appreciative of a brilliant sunset, the gorgeous red and yellow of the fall leaves and even a perfect rose. Just last night he phoned home to make sure we ran out to look at the sliver moon.

18. I will never forget how it made me feel one day (and many more since) when I was with him in the halls at the local high school and I witnessed big tall boys totally let go of their "cool factor" to run down the hall yelling "Mr. Rowley!" and run up to him to give him a hug. I cannot even tell you how many kids he has loved and served all through their youths. They get it that he really cares about him. You can't measure that kind of value in a teacher with a letter grade or a test score. One of my friends put it best when she said his area of emphasis as an educator is self-esteem. As a parent I know that kind of boost for a child is priceless.

19. Sometimes he completely makes my day with the tiniest of gestures. One day a few years back I came home to find a vase full of pussy willows after simply having mentioned a few weeks earlier that I wished I had some. Yesterday morning I went out to find the ice scraper tucked into the handle of my car. Little things mean a lot.

20. He's put up with being married to me for a whole 20 years. Sometimes I can't help but wonder if he knew what he was getting into (strong, opinionated, independent...but I try really hard not to be nag) or if he wishes he would've chosen one of the other half dozen girls who were trying to butt in line in front of me when I returned from my mission. But he doesn't complain.

Having the very best friends part deux:

Other people who've recently made my days a little brigher:

My sister Melody who loves me the way I am, isn't afraid of hearing my pain on those days when I need to let a little out and who willingly came over to paint one night even though as a former apartment manager she's painted enough for one lifetime.

Dear Regan D. with whom I have this wonderful understanding so our two sets of kids who like to hang out together are equally welcome at one another's home at the drop of the hat. She spontaneously took Z~ across state lines and to Disneyland last year while we were in Finland last fall. A while ago we were a safe place to land when her son got his heart broken by a stupid girl. The last couple of weeks her house has been a less-crazy place for my youngest son to land while we're all torn up around here.

Sweet Sue-donym who brought over a loaf of pumpking-chocolate chip bread when the rabbit died. (I'm sorry, I know it's not funny; it's really sad, but I still like saying that.) She got excited about our remodel just when I was deciding it was a bad idea and thinking about quitting.

Good friend Julie who was all cleaned up and sooooo excited to go to her first book group discussion for a book she actually read and reread and then it came into her head, "You've forgot Dalene." So she donned her work clothes and came over for the very unglamourous job of sanding baseboards. Over tack strips no less. This is a woman, among many other of my single-mom friends for whom I have immeasurable admiration. The DIY every day, for every thing and in every way.

Also-like-family Mel and Lynda who show up with a box full of supplies Thursday night and also get down on their hands and knees amidst the dust to tackle the knuckle-tearing job of baseboards. With a little trim on the side. Lynda is a perfectionist with a great eye for excellence and I was worried the thought of my carpet-crusted baseboards might be a little too much. But the entire crew that night was amazing and I should be done with most of that kind of grunt work today.

Wahoo!

big smattering of raindrops on the pavement and on my face.


the teeniest baby quailbirds ever waddling after their mother.


i don't even need three things today. just those two are enough.

This week I have had a little anxiety as family has started to gather for a family reunion. I don't know why I do this to myself, but I do. I'm anxious because I don't have enough time to be everything for everybody. My house isn't clean. We are a little bit dysfunctional and I never know who's going to go off or be offended over something completely silly. And it was my family's turn to plan the extended family reunion of some 200 people, all with strong personalities as well as strong opinions as to how things should be done.

Yeah, you're right. Reading this I'm starting to understand why there was a little anxiety.

So the immediate family thing went OK. There were a few little digs of the not-so-subtle why aren't you spending more time with me? kind from the very people with whom it is hardest to spend a lot of time. And there were just good laid back moments with the ones who take you as you are and with whom you do the same.

And the extended family thing was OK, too. There were disappointments. The campsite wasn't all it was cracked up to be (no water, no plumbing, and the grass I'm sure everyone assumed when they looked at it last winter would be actual grass, instead of yellow dried up neglected pokey nothingness). And it was hot. And people didn't bring what they said they were going to bring so cooking dinner for 150 people was a bit of a trick. But no one starved. No one had heatstroke. There were only a few thinly veiled complaints. And we all got along.

Which is saying something.

But here's the cool thing. My immediate family kicked out for much of early Saturday for a family baptism--my youngest son's baptism. We tried to keep it low-key and didn't expect anyone else to show. We were all seated and it had started when my dad's brother and his wife walked in. And I completely lost it. Usually I try to be happy with what's right there in front of me. Grateful for who and what I have. Instead of missing those who've moved on and left us behind. But all of a sudden I was overcome with the realization that my Dad was missing. And that he's always missing from these signficant events. And that I have missed knowing him and watching him know my kids. Teasing them, tickling them, holding them up on his knee. And being really proud of them.

I later told my aunt and uncle both how much it meant to me that they would come. That they are always there for me. My aunt replied, "Well, you are our kids." And I realized that without my knowing it they had taken us into their family and loved us even more deeply than I had understood. Partly because they loved my Dad and staying close to us was a way to not lose him so completely. But mostly because they didn't want us to lose him so completely.

I'm still humbled and touched by their love for us. I want to be like that when I grow up.

Just when I was starting to feel just the teensiest bit sad that not one of my close friends had come over to support the fundraiser car wash my son was doingthis morning for his eagle project I saw it. The flash of red as my dear friend Lynda drove up in her brand spankin' new red Toyota Prius. Not only did she let a bunch a kids wash the already spotless car, she let my newly licensed son get in it, press the "Start" button (it's keyless) and drive it back to her house to pick up her husband's Bronco. And then drive that back in order to pick up their Toyota MR2. She paid double the suggested donation for the first two cars and then threw in another fiver for the third.

Because that's what friends do...


I just happen to be browsing through the Semi-Annual Sale products on the Bath & Body Works website when I see something I just have to have. I start to load my cart, but have second thoughts about the shipping. Then I remember Melody told me she was headed to the mall to take her daughter some lunch. On a hunch I dial her cell. "Are you anywhere near Bath & Body Works by chance? "I'm in Bath & Body Works right now." (Of course she is.) "Will you see if they have any..."

Because that's what friends do...


After a long and hot morning and a tiresome and hot day I was starting think about what I could throw together for dinner tonight. Something easy, I thought. I've already got two load of dishes to do today and I don't want to make more of a mess.

Knock Knock! One of my husband's former students (6th grade class in `91) is at the door. "We're having a Luau tonight for my brother's family that just got sealed and we'd like you to come and bring your whole family."

Because that's what friends do...

Storm

Grey skies

Wind

Cool breeze

Rain

Fresh scent of precipitation falling on hot dry pavement.


Rain, rain come and stay. Come and wash my cares away.

Prelude to a Sabbath.

I spent three months AWOL from ward choir. Because going to practice at 9:00am is just as stressful for my family as starting church at 9:00am.

But something was missing so I went back.


And now here is how it plays out for me:

A verse, a line, a turn of phrase. A message meant just for me. Last week it was "I loved to choose and see my path; but now lead Thou me on!...Pride ruled my will. Remember not past years!" The words find a home in my heart and I know without a doubt it is just what I need.

But it never ends there. If I am still. If I listen just right, the message will be repeated. In a talk. A prayer. A lesson. Sacrament Meeting. Sunday School or Relief Society. Sometimes in all three. Constant reminders of what will soon fade as I slip past the church-house doors and return to the mad, mad world.

Just enough to get me through another day. Another week. Bearing me up. Buoying me. Carrying me through till the next Sabbath morning.

This week it is "For I am called by Thy name." Over and over and over I need to hear the words. I need to feel the words. To want on the very deepest level to be called by His name.


I know how to look now. To listen for its repeated refrain.

Let me just say that I wasn't kidding about having a midlife crisis.

This week has been particularly difficult for me. I have found myself distracted by a part of me who is not who I want to be. I have doubted myself like never before. And I have dwelt on a deep ache inside that I generally try to ignore. Which more or less means I've been miserable.

But even so it's amazing how God sends you vital little messages just when you need them the most. They may at first appear to be coincidental. But I know most certainly they are not accidental.

Wednesday I was particularly sad. But I managed to keep that hidden as I went about my daily routine. So it was quite a suprise when just before he left for school my 17 1/2 year old son uncharacteristically came over to give me a big hug. As he left, I knew who had sent him over to hug me. And it was just what I needed to get through that day.


Tonight I've been in search of something my son requested of me. I failed to find it and thus failed him. But in the search I came across a bunch of memorabilia from my childhood. And a special folder I keep regarding my father's death. Somehow in the midst of a big pile of papers a certain letter tumbled out. I knew the handwriting immediately, although I hadn't seen it for over 25 years. It was a letter from my father, written to me during my Freshman year at BYU. In it he listed several traits he admired about me and told me how proud he was of me. And what a good person I was. He ended with his standard sign-off: "Remember who you are."

Thanks, Dad. I needed that.


My struggles are not over. But at least I know I won't endure them alone.


God does know your name.