journeys

Some of my favorite childhood memories involve our annual summer trek from our home in the Willamette Valley of Oregon to my grandparents' cattle ranch in Rich County, Utah. In those days the speed limit was 55mph and the roads were not what they are today and the trip took a good 15-16 hours. Whether in our old Chevy Impala station wagon or, later, a great big blue Ford Econoline van (there was no mini in that van), the trip would consist of six sprawling--sometimes singing, sometimes fighting, sometimes sleeping--kids of various ages, few stops, carrot sticks and homemade sandwiches. One of the best parts of the drive was the halfway point, where we would stop for the night at my mom's sister's family farm in Weiser, Idaho. Weiser visits bring to mind sleeping bags strewn family style on the family room floor, homemade cinnamon bread, full on farm-style breakfasts, floating down the lazy Weiser River, chasing cats and chickens, picking raspberries, lots of hard work, love and hugs.

Today I drove my mom up from the Boise area where we are staying to say goodbye to her sister, who is learning not one but two new languages and leaving in a few weeks to serve among expat domestic workers in Hong Kong. She made us some delicious pumpkin muffins. We sat on her floor and played marble games, drove up to the fields to watch the harvest, and went into town for sandwiches, chocolates and a waffle cone.

It's a long, long way from a sugar beet farm in Weiser, Idaho, to the city of Hong Kong. I acknowledge and appreciate both the courage and the sacrifice required to embark upon such a journey.

Take that, conspiring fates!

(Post edit: That was my first post via my iPhone. It truly was 3 minutes to midnight. My battery was dying. And Blogger wouldn't accept any posting from my various browsers. It's easier to finish something you actually start, so I'm happy I didn't give up before I began.)


For the past several years I have participated in something I like to call NoBloPoBlahBlahBlah. This year my blog is dead, it's 3 minutes to Nov 2, and Blogger hates all my browsers, but I am determined. It's not much, but it's all I got.

Thanks for reading.

As several distinct worrisome circumstances collide around me at the same time right now, I find a stronger need to note and relish the simple blessings that help me get through the day. It's time to pick this one back up again and let it carry me through. Tuesday: rain, cool grey clouds against the fresh green of spring and the ever present comforting shoulders of the mountains of the wasatch front. followed by the deep warmth of blue sky and sun out on the ball park. it was the perfect day. Wednesday: an out-of-the-blue text: i love you mum. and a dear and constant friend who texted me out of the blue "Do you need a hug?" on the very day when i most definitely realized that while the many virtual hugs i've received do lift, cheer and carry, what i needed most was the infusion of physical love, affection and support that can only be found in an actual, literal hug. thank you, dear b. Thursday: the cool of the morning. a few moments home alone to put at least a few things back in order. discovering that the thawing food in our garage freezer was due to a door being left open and that, at least today, i don't have to add "shop for a new freezer" to my list of things to do today. a gentle reminder that six weeks from today i will be able to wrap my arms around my zack once again and that for the first time in nearly four years we will all be together again.

fri: early morning ride to the lake, fresh eggs scrambled with cheese and fresh chives while the rest of the family slept, fresh blackberry cobbler warm from the oven when they woke up, first temple trip with kyle.
also one thing: having a child of such good heart and spirit he planned this trip over a year ago and couldn't wait to come to the temple (didn't wait for a temple trip).

sat: clean house, clean yard, perfect party (and getting the significance of being entrusted with the planning of that party).
also two things: a true friend who ventures out of her comfort zone to help set up for a party she will leave early, why? "well, it's lindsay!" a boy who took the time to thank me. "thank you for coming," i respond. "thanks for giving us lindsay," he says, "she's great!"

sun: watching kyle, prepared, willing, wanting to serve and serve well.
also two things: having a daughter who wanted so much more (an iPhone and a luxury automobile) be pleased with and excited over what she got (among other things, when her friend presented her with two jars of her mother's homemade pickles: "this is the best birthday present ever!"). and when her friend--almost 18--not only remembered that it was kyle's first time passing the sacrament, but took the time to ask him "how did it go?"

mon: early morning email, early morning walk, early morning work, a boy who listened to a prompting, trip to vineyard nursery for lilacs, geraniums and roma tomatoes, daughter's first date, baseball (victory is sweet revenge), pupusas, sunset, watching the big jet come in.

Yesterday was a great day.

I had a quiet, slow and easy morning. Leftover spicy green curry for breakfast. Kept working on the "not-now" piles stacked up in laundry baskets in my bedroom. Had a not-quite-warm-enough-shower before getting ready to head up to the temple for the sealing of my friend Melody's son Luke to the love of his life Rachel early, in order to do some initiatory. Drove my Luke up there with me, as he had some studying to do on campus.

Sat by my friend Meridith in the long line waiting to do initiatory. Re-memberized Moroni 7:45.

Loved seeing the marriage waiting room full of love and support for Luke and Rachel. Met up with Shane, who'd been at the Klondike, there. The sealing was beautiful. I especially loved sharing in Melody's joy at having her last child sealed in the temple to someone wonderful and good to him and for him. Each one of her kids has chosen well and is doing well. What a beautiful thing!

Dashed off to the Provo City Library where I got to see my friend Sue (who is, almost literally, like a ray of sunshine), pick up the next book by Leif Enger, and then have him sign my copy of Peace Like a River, the newest title--So Brave, Young, and Handsome, and a program: "Zack--good luck in the U.K. --Leif," which I later mailed off in a letter to Zack. The best part of meeting Enger was being able to show him how much we love Peace Like a River. The book is well worn and I had to explain, "I had to retrieve it from my son's ex-girlfriend's little sister--that's how much we love your book at my house." He wrote "To my favorite kind of readers--" in that one. Awesome.

Dashed home to greet Kyle (who'd returned from the frozen Klondike Derby and more or less said, "I went. It was cold. I don't have to do that again," and pick up Lindsay before running back to BYU to fetch Luke. Quick trip to Macey's, where, amongst other things, I sample a smooth buttery slice of Havarti). Got what I needed from Wal-Mart without having to go there myself (either of the last two items would make a day a banner day in and of themselves). Thanks husband!

Drove out to the Springville Art Museum for Luke and Rachel's reception. It was lovely. Great location. Soups and snacks from Marvellous Catering. Good music by a local band. Good friends. Packed the dance floor and danced the Tunac (it's tradition). As we were leaving the band played my favorite song ever, Sweet Home Alabama.

Dropped by to visit my mother on the way home, which made her very happy. Then as we were coming through Provo I texted Melody to let her know if she needed to tell someone about her day I would be available. She texted back and told me she was already almost to my house. She beat us home, but then got to tell me about her day. And I got to listen. And we looked at the photos Shane had taken of the reception (especially a sweet photo of Rachel's wedding dress that she designed and made herself, of Luke showing off how happy he is, and of how much fun everyone had dancing the Tunac).

Hung out in my pjs for a bit, listening to the party downstairs, appreciating the fact that my Luke had once again planned and hosted a social event all by himself. Started the first chapter of Enger's next book before drifting off to sleep at 11.

The dishes weren't done and the kitchen floor wasn't mopped, but the important stuff happened. I did a lot of things, but mostly I got to be where and with whom I needed to be.

Those are my favorite kinds of days.

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.

A ride a night this week. Most of them finished in the dark. But that makes way for sunsets and dusks and moons (only one per night) and stars and a view off the edge of the hill worth riding around twice for.

The handful of volleyball girls who made it a point to thank me for dinner last night (homemade pizza) and tell me how good it was (which is super nice, especially after everything went wrong). And mean it.

An opportunity to get to know one of Suze's friends a little better over the dining room table (as moms are to serve and not be seen or heard at team dinner and the girls were all outside). I don't believe it was chance that brought us together with time to talk. She works in the NICU and had enough knowledge and experience to help me wrap my head around this weekend's loss and sorrow. It was exactly what I needed.

The kind older fisherman along the Provo River who sportingly showed off his prize catch--even letting me take a picture. He enthusiastically told me exactly how to cook a catfish--despite having to sometimes search for the English version of the word. "I already promised this one to someone else or I would let you take it home for your dinner," he said. And he meant it. And after we happened to mention the mosquitoes he abandoned his live line and walked over to his car to get out a can of bug spray, which he promptly and carefully sprayed on K~ before handing it over to me.

Tender moments shared with a friend at the side of her father's death-bed. Too precious to share, but the truths in them deserves to be shouted from the rooftops. Just know this: I don't just believe. I know. And that's what keeps me going--that and those seemingly simple things I acknowledge here--even when my heart is broken or my burden seems too heavy to bear.

Here's two:

I. Backstory: In order to make up for lost time (no, actually because I want to), I've been trying to make it to the temple weekly to do initiatory work on the weeks it is not ward temple night. I used to go on Tuesdays before work, but the six-week summer closure and my recent work schedule have messed with that, so lately I've been going up early Saturday mornings. I do not believe it is by accident that ever since Zack got his mission call to England, I've had at least one name from England every week except for one. I don't think I need to explain why that tiny detail is significant and means something huge for me.

So last week I almost didn't go. (Let's be honest, almost every Friday night I think to myself, "I'm probably not going to go--I only get one Saturday morning a week and it is always a toss up to clean house and/or work out while I have the energy, or go to the temple.) But I did. There was about a 30-minute wait. I waited. Then I did my session. There were four names from Vermont and then one from England. One is always enough for me.

But then as I finished and was walking out, I noticed there was not a single sister waiting. "They need me," I thought. So I asked if it would be helpful for me to do another set of names. As always, the temple workers were gracious and grateful and I was handed another card with five names.

It wasn't until I walked back that I took a second to glance at the names. England. England. England. England. (Rounded off by somewhere random, I forget where.)

My heart was full of gratitude as tears ran down my face, but I felt like someone else was telling me, "No. Thank you."


II. Last night I was late for stake conference. We had been invited to a first birthday party for my friend Katya's daughter Alexandria. I don't need to explain why I needed to be there; I just knew I needed to be there. The party was supposed to start at five. My youngest and I arrived at 5:45, which should have been fashionably late but also given us enough time to say hello, drop off the present, eat some fabulous Haitian food. And get back in time for stake conference. Things were running late. Stake conference was at seven.

We stayed and mingled and visited. I enjoyed the luxury of watching children playing without worrying about my own and listening to the blend of English, French and Creole that could be heard through the cozy backyard. We rejoiced at the breaking news that friends of ours who've been anxiously waiting to adopt just got a beautiful baby girl. And, at some point later when it seemed appropriate, I finally expressed out loud to Katya's mom the pain I felt while standing at the foot of a hospital bed late Friday night, listening to the juxtaposition of a strong regular whoosh of a fetal heartbeat and the cold words of a doctor stating to my expectant and contracting niece, "We will work hard to save babies after 24 weeks, but you're only 22 weeks, so we won't do anything to save yours should he come." I can wrap my head around that. Sort of. But I can't quite wrap my heart around it. I needed to talk about it. Barbara was the perfect one to listen and hear.

At 6:45 the party started for reals and it was good. Good to meet new people and celebrate with long-time friends. And my first taste of Haitian food was savory and delicious.

I left at 7:25, thinking I could get home, throw on a skirt and be to stake conference by halftime. But as I arrived I found a certain child distraught over the thought of a second night without plans in the same weekend (this never happens--really). Usually one to choose the safety of anger over the vulnerability of tears, said child broke down. Usually one to push back or away, said child allowed an embrace and listening ears. Let love in. I stayed.

The moment of need passed and it was clearly time to leave said child with some space, so I went, taking youngest child to a friend's house. I had no idea what he had heard or observed; I actually thought he was outside the whole time and oblivious.

Until we got in the car. And then I reminded of the extend of this baby brother--the one who gets teased and picked on the most, who is often the brunt of the frustrations and anger of older siblings--this little brother's tender heart. "I called Katie and asked her to text Suze because she needed something fun to do tonight." 11-year-old calls 14-year-old freshman girl friend because he can't stand to watch his big sister's heart break.

Tears ran down my face (again).

there i was. solemnly bearing the heavy load of overwhelmth (not a word, but it should be). overwhelmed at my to-do list:

to-do
to-find
to-fix
to-file
to-put-away
to-dump
to-worry-about
to-buy-with-money-we-don't-have

my former excitement about meeting up for lunch with friends today turned to fear and dread. i can't go. i feel so low. buried.

i can't find what i need for pack meeting tonight and at every turn in my search i'm confronted with another pile of things i need to-do-something-about.

i want to go back to bed. too little sleep make all the rest of the tos feel even more heavy, more hopeless. i want to curl up in a ball and wake up to no more tos.

and then it happens.

i walk past the laundry basket brimming with to-files and i see a little brown corner of something. i tug at it and out comes the scout shirt i desperately needed so my youngest (you know, the one who also needs new church shoes, new regular shoes and a new church shirt and with whom i have been supposed to practicing math facts all summer) can get his arrow of light tonight and transition from blue to brown without once more being humiliated for not being offspring to one of those with-it moms who have a scout shirt for every child (neatly pressed and with all the requisite badges and bandelos and etc. neatly sewn on in perfect tiny stitches).

the phrase may be overused, but there are no other words.

i smile and send up a little thank-you prayer. i have walked past that basket hundreds of times. i've looked everywhere for the shirt, even dragging out the two adult shirts from my husband's closet to see if perhaps one of them is really the one i've been looking for.

i know it is a simple thing. but i also know it is not by accident. i needed some glimpse of light, some hope that somehow i could make my way through this.

sent, received and duly noted.

thank you.

Toying with the idea of turning this to a journal of sorts. Please don't feel obligated to keep reading. (But of course you're welcome to stay if you'd like.)

Love walking the river trail in the mornings with my good friend Nancy. It's like free therapy with a view. And sound effects.

Rode my bike to yoga today. It was so great to be back after a month away. And to stretch. And sweat. And breathe. Lacee told me she was grateful to have me back because she said I bring a good energy to the class that she misses when I'm not there. "It's a positive and so honest." That truly is one of most meaningful compliments I have ever received.

Took my grandmother to see my mother in the transitional rehabilitation place today. I've been updating my grandmother regularly on Mom's condition, but it wasn't she said something today that I realized that in her head Grandma imagined that "hip replacement" meant they would cut away my mom's hip and replace it with some sort of prosthetic like those for an amputee. I was so sad I hadn't known this before and been able to reassure her. The look of delight and relief on Grandma's face when she saw Mom--and especially as she saw her walking (albeit slowly and with a walker) was so tender and sweet.

Love writing to my missionaries twice a week now--one day for each. Love the anticipation of news--however long or short, detailed or vague--in my inbox in the morning.

I am tired. My neglected house is a wreck. But life is full and good.

things i love--

sleepy-head kids

hearing "thanks mom"

quiet early mornings

peace and beauty found on the provo river trail

my bike

fresh eggs

tuesday mornings

sprawling on the grass watching the girls and boys of summer

tulips

tree buds

blossom time

words--nor even a photograph--would do it justice, but the morning sky today looked like an ocean.

i wanted to run out and fly up to dip my toes in it.

i'm glad that i live in this beautiful world...

heavenly father created for me.



i am grateful for:

a new year.

a new day.

and an ocean sky with with to start them both.


happy new year!

being able to be content just for the fact of making it to the gym, even though my workout was not stellar today (i'm a little under the weather). it happened. and that was enough.

having a friend who is steady and interesting and supportive who i know will meet me at the gym, even on those days i'd rather stay home in my jammies.

braking for quail on the way home this morning. i love quail. they make me happy.

loving the fresh blanket of snow and the calming quieting hush it brings to the world.

seeing a glimpse of brilliant blue set against all the white.

it's going to be a good day. such blessings make me anticipate more good and simple things blessing my days in the coming year.

--i loved that the utes' mascot (a bird not an indian. don't ask why.) walked over to a little boy dressed in a cougar hat and then took him in his arms as the boy's father passed him over the wall and held him while the father snapped a photo.

--i loved that even though there was this really exciting play going on a cougar fan stopped in his tracks as he was walking down the steps and picked up the glove another fan had just dropped and turned away from the game and walked into the portal after the person who had lost their glove.

--i loved that my friend's seven-year-old daughter spontaneously and completely on her own fasted on Thanksgiving day for her aunt and uncle to be able to have or adopt a baby.

--i loved that when i said to the older widow in my neighborhood that i was thinking of her and i knew the holidays must be difficult for her as all of her children live so very far away, instead of being sad or bitter she told me how blessed she was to have the means and the courage to purchase a plane ticket and fly by herself to be with any given son or daughter.

bite in the air

warm leather gloves

yesterday's brilliantly piercing sunset cast flames all across the valley

rustling through the leaves everywhere i go

watching our black kitten-now-cat mowgli stare up at the tree and pounce on any falling leaf he can anticipate

getting to the gym, starting a load of dishes and two loads of laundry and still managing a bit of me time before work this morning

the deep shade of blue of the morning sky playing backdrop to all sorts of sunkissed shades of green, yellow and red this morning

being able to head off to a job i actually enjoy and to work with people i enjoy being with

how is it possible to savor the warmth of the sun on my face so intensely and still be insanely excited for the promise of rain?

other good things of the day:

having a good workout this morning even though i was by myself

walking out of the gym to the smell of a brief and sudden rain on the pavement. it had passed and provo was dry, but it's coming. i can feel it

an account manager who called me today not because he needed something, but just because he wanted to tell me how much he appreciates my work

getting a free--and most luxurious--pedicure to help out my friend who is going to cosmetology school

sitting on my back deck and enjoying the weather and a visit from a friend while watching k~ and the girl next door swinging from the hammock and the chickens dig up bugs in the garden

listening to the leaves blow down on the roof so hard it sounded like rain

it's been awhile. i left the fact that life isn't so simple get in my way.

enough of that.

lazy sunday.

not in that i didn't do a thing. i did. but having to be home with a sick child meant i spent the day in my pajamas. and did whatever i wanted to do whenever i wanted to do it.

a clean kitchen and a clean bedroom (clean is relative, you know).

the way the kittens cats are not as disinterested as their reputations would indicate. perhaps because i am not a cat person and, aside from being amused by their antics, am more or less disinterested in them, they try so obviously to attract my attention. if i walk past they stop whatever it is they are doing and roll over on their backs and try to play cute so i will scratch their stomachs. clever cats. but none too subtle.

apple/cherry fruit crisp--brown sugar, old-fashioned oats, pie cherries (not from a can), fresh apples. mmm. such a sweet taste of the harvest season.

windows open--sounds of children playing, families gathered, panic as the neighbor's hunting dog gets through the whole in the fence and goes after the cats--oblivious to the chickens who were out. they rushed to the rescue. no harm done. while relieved that blood was not shed, i feel no ill-will toward the bird dog--it's his nature. we need to fix that fence.

the calm of the sabbath-day music

a visit from melody and steve. melody bearing a gift. the perfect gift. melody knows me. the most perfect new jammies. for no reason but because she loves me.

fresh eggs--a dozen to a neighbor down on her luck. lucky seven laid fresh this morning for melody and steve. it's nice to have something to give.

70s. the warmth of the sun. the evenness in the breeze. the perfect shade of blue in the sky. the crisp vibrant colors of the leaves. i love this time of year.