CalicoBirdie

When Family Can't Be There

2011-05-13T12:13:00.001-07:00

Last Saturday Rob and I ran our marathon. We set and trained for this goal as a couple, but I found myself needing lots of encouragement and reassurance from others. Our neighbors and dear friends, Shan and Brian Sullivan, drove over 2 hours just so they could stand at the finish line and cheer us on by name (and record our deed for posterity!) More than I would ask, even of a relative, Shan gave me a big hug as I came through and even kissed me on my oh, so sweaty forehead and told me how proud of me she was. No mother or sister could have done more. They quietly drifted off, leaving us to stretch and rehydrate, but it meant SO much to have them there.

As you can imagine, I REALLY wanted to sleep in on Sunday morning, but we got a call at 6:40 am that another neighbor and good friend, Kim, was in labor. She and Steve dropped their 2 kids off at 7am and we kept them most of the day. A relaxing Mother's Day turned a little busier, just when I wanted to spend all day curled up in my bed. Then I started thinking about all the friends that have been there for us in our hours of need, when family was far away and couldn't help. Instead of feeling sorry for myself, I started to feel grateful that I could "be there" for my friend and somehow pass along the help and support that others have given me.

We have lived away from our families for 10 years now. We've shared baby births, hospital visits, carpooling, youth activities, miscarriages, marriage trouble and divorce, illness, Thanksgiving dinners, Easter egg hunts, weekend road trips and Christmas Eves with the families in our neighborhoods and wards in Indiana and North Carolina. All the things we would have shared with family have been shared with others who have become our family. I love these people so much and I'm so grateful they've stepped in to our lives.

Fear Not

2011-04-17T07:44:00.000-07:00

I turned 37 a few weeks ago and decided I wanted to have a theme for this year of my life. I've chosen my theme from 2 Timothy 1:7--For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. FEAR NOT!

I've realized that with all of the changes in the past year, I have become a fearful person. Here are some of the things I'm afraid of, both rational and irrational (you'll probably be able to tell which is which):

CHANGE
getting rid of things
not being able to sell our house
finding new friends; saying goodbye to old friends
my children growing up, whether I'm ready or not
not having any more babies
tsunamis, earthquakes, fires
not being strong enough to handle my life
getting old
being attacked by a rabid squirrel while running on the trails near our house
not keeping my house clean enough

One goal I set this year is to run a marathon, which Rob and I will do on May 7th. This process has been a test for me in many ways--not only building the physical endurance I'll need, but also shoring up my mental capacity and casting out all the fearful thoughts that sneak in to tell me I'll never make it, I'm not strong enough, I'm not brave enough, etc.

It is hard to conquer those thoughts and find the feelings of power, love, and a sound mind. I continue to struggle with accepting the changes that are in store for our family and what it will mean for me personally. My mind keeps going back to a wonderful article I read at Christmas, called "How Shall This Be?" . Jane Wise talks about the lessons we can learn from the Nativity story and it feels like she's talking directly to me:

"The ordinary, comfortable, even safe life has been interrupted. Things are not what were hoped for; they are not what was planned for. God has interrupted, pushing aside the ordinary to conceive something out of the ordinary. We may not understand it, and we may not be able

to manage it. What can we do? We can receive it, as frightening as that sounds."

Frightening indeed, but I'm really trying to choose faith, not fear.

Makin' my way in the world today

2011-01-08T13:50:00.000-08:00

Last year, it felt like I would burst if I didn't write. I felt like I had words and thoughts just crammed in my head, waiting to be let out. This year, not so much. Not as much to say. Still trying to sell the house, still waiting to transition to Georgia, still wondering how to parent a teenager. But I do have an itch to create something.

A few months ago, a wise friend advised me to spend a few minutes each day on something that wouldn't get UNdone (as opposed to things like laundry and dinner dishes, which are endlessly repeated) I have *mostly* kept my sewing stuff packed up in an effort to keep the house clean, but I'm pining for a project. I decided to keep a record of the things I create this year--partly to keep notes to my self, but mostly to remind me of those things that stayed done.

My first project of the year: Ruffled Scarf! I made two that I wasn't thrilled with, but finally got it on the third, as a gift for Maddie's friend. I will have to get new fabric and make another one for me.

I used this tutorial but made a few adjustments.

Scarf #1

Single layer, 4 inches wide. I bought the polka dots thinking it would go with tons of stuff, but I think it kind of looks like a clown ruffle. I also didn't like how the unprinted underside showed so much.

Scarf #2

I used a more reversible knit for this one and did double layers. (3"top layer, 6" bottom layer). I liked how it looked, but found it was too long once I was all finished. I should have made tighter ruffles to shorten it.

Scarf #3

Eureka! I solved the reversible problem by doing two opposing layers for the bottom ruffle (5" wide). Top layer is 3". The biggest improvement by far was machine basting in two places (and then sewing down the middle of the two basting lines). It made the ruffles much more even. I made tighter ruffles too--gathering the 60" strip of fabric down to 34". It turned out MUCH better and I will do them this way from now on!

From Saturday Night to Saturday Night Live

2010-11-03T11:16:00.000-07:00

When we lived in Bloomington with our 3 little girls, they loved to watch "The Lawrence Welk Show" on Saturday night on PBS. They would hurry through their baths and sit on our bed as we combed out their hair, rolled curlers, and laughed at the silly songs and frilly dresses on the show. I remember this song in particular, because we loved to hear Eloise's little voice singing "Frankfurter sandwiches".

It's hard to believe how long past those days are...and it really hit home the other night when Rob showed Maddie this Lawrence Welk skit from Saturday Night Live. It actually was late on Saturday night and she laughed SO hard and was so silly about re-enacting the skit the next day with her sisters. Very funny stuff, but it made me wonder--how has our life changed so much, so soon?

Thank You Bryan, whoever you are....

2010-10-13T18:24:00.000-07:00

This afternoon I took a much-needed hour for myself and went running on the shady, autumn-leafed greenway near our house. As I ran, I began to notice messages along the path, written in children's writing with sidewalk chalk. GO GO GO. Go Bryan! Cool! You Can Do It!! You're Awesome! Run Fast!

At first it just made me smile, but then I started to feel like I had my own personal cheerleading section and I felt inspired to push on a little further than I'd planned. I saw a couple of messages that said 40 B4 40! and began to picture this Bryan in my head...a neighborhood Dad type of guy, coming up on the big 4-0, and setting some goals for himself. 40 miles? 40 races? 40 hours on the trail? I realized I could squeeze in 40 miles before age 40 if I did another half marathon and then a full marathon. I began to wonder, and to put "Flori" in wherever I read Bryan's name. (Go Flori!)

All this wondering about "Bryan" and I started to realize that life is good and people are good and all the little things that annoy me and frustrate me are not my LIFE, they're just little annoying things and they will pass. In the midst of all these thoughts, I saw a runner coming toward me. A dad-type of guy who was actually just how I'd imagined Bryan. I felt weirdly happy. And then I noticed that this man only had one arm--the other was off above his elbow. But he was just trucking along, enjoying the beautiful fall day like I was.
It really made me think. Not "Oh, my life could be so much worse..." but "my life could be so different". But it's not. This is the life I have right now and there are so many good things about it. There is so much I can do and enjoy, even if we can't manage to sell our house.

The last message on the trail said, VICTORY!!! Thank you, fellow travelers, for lighting my path today.

Designer Genes

2010-10-11T10:54:00.000-07:00

Always looking for new and interesting creative challenges, I decided to try my hand at clothing design. Here are my dress designs for the Shabby Apple Dresses contest:

The first two designs hark back to the dropped-waist of some of my favorite 80s dresses. I am happy to see this style returning! The v-neck top and underskirt are made of a lycra knit covered in chiffon. Lined sleeves and a flowing 3-tiered chiffon skirt give plenty of coverage for modesty. Neck and dropped waist are trimmed with a matching cotton crochet trim to add a little texture. A detachable flower pin can be worn at the waist or shoulder. The color varies with the monitor, but the first dress is meant to be ivory colored with an orange/scarlet poppy. The second dress is a two-toned apple green with a white or cream flower.

I plan on making this dress whether I win the contest or not. I am IN LOVE with this fabric, Poppy Bouquet by Laura Gunn. Really, the entire line of hers is my favorite ever. The design is modeled on a girls dress I bought years ago at Goodwill. It has a zipper back, cap sleeves, a high waistline with no gathering, and a wonderful twirly skirt. I've added a matching grey belt, though I think it would look lovely with a bright red belt too.

The Beauty of two ugly quilts

2010-09-15T10:00:00.000-07:00

My maternal grandmother Ruth Adams is a skilled quilter with many beautiful quilts to her credit. She has finally stopped quilting in the last year and divided her long-held fabric stash between my mother and aunts. While visiting my parents this summer, I cut squares from 36 of those vintage fabrics, including a scrap of the fabric used for the bridesmaid dresses at my parents' wedding. This was my triumphant and happy return to sewing after a 3-month hiatus and it was a great project! I was wondering what to use for the backing--I wanted something that looked old but wasn't too scary. I was so happy to find this length of fabric at Goodwill for $2.

Now that Rob is working at UGA, we feel obligated to pay homage to the famous Georgia bulldog. He was so happy to find this really awful fabric at Ikea: Varmt Hund. We bought one in red/white and one in black/white since those are all UGA's colors. The red one is a now an office wall hanging, and this one is a lap quilt for his attic office when it gets cold. You can't see it, but I machine quilted all around the dog. Again, I found an awesome backing at Goodwill--almost 4 yards of black velvet corduroy for just a few dollars.

I think these are the ugliest two quilts I've ever made, but they were very inexpensive and fun to do and I hope our family will get lots of good use from them!

Swooning

2010-09-08T05:16:00.000-07:00

We are getting close to swooning around here. Maddie had developed an intense interest in historical fiction with a romantic twist. Over the summer we watched several versions of Pride and Prejudice (Colin Firth, *sigh*), Sense and Sensibility, and Jane Eyre (oh, that Mr. Rochester!)

We ended with an emotional Anne of Green Gables marathon. I remember the summer I first fell for Gilbert Blythe. I was 15 and we were visiting friends in Canada. They lived far out in the country and I was being a very ungracious house guest and proclaiming my teenage boredom throughout the house. The mom suggested I watch this new movie they had and I was hooked. I think I watched the whole series at least 3 times that week. It is fun to see Maddie get giddy for these romantic heroes and every time we watch one of these movies, I am SO glad I have girls who will swoon and sigh with me.

I laughed so hard the other day, talking with friends about the huge posters we used to have on the backs of our doors...Kirk Cameron, George Michael, the Top Gun team...and how we would get so dreamy about them. (Do they even make giant posters any more?!) I know those boy-crazy days are nearly here for Maddie, but I'll be glad for every day she keeps stars in her eyes for Gilbert Blythe.

Jello TAP-ee-OCA pudding

2010-08-25T18:21:00.000-07:00

It may (or may not) surprise you to know that I have a serious weakness for commercial-grade pudding. I love pudding packs, and tapioca is my favorite. (On a side note, I really love homemade tapioca pudding. For some reason, my mom used to always put red food coloring in to turn it a pale shade of pink. I was an adult with my own children before I knew that tapioca is not really pink.)

Our small, limited-selection store, Aldi, usually only carries chocolate and vanilla packs. As I was gearing up for school lunches at the grocery store last week, I noticed they had a special purchase of both tapioca and butterscotch pudding. So I totally stocked up. Today as I made lunches for the first day of school, I proudly slipped a tapioca pudding and spoon into each lunch box, thinking what a fun treat it would be for the girls (and surreptitiously tucking the 4th snack pack in the fridge for my afternoon snack....)

Imagine my horror when one by one, each daughter came home from school, and told me, "Mom, that pudding you gave me was all rotten and curdled. I had to throw the whole thing away." Oh, the waste...
And oh, the sadness, when I told them they missed out on tapioca pudding. I sure enjoyed mine.

I think it might actually be okay...

2010-06-30T16:08:00.000-07:00

One good friend took the older girls to the beach for a few days. Another good friend offered to keep Bea all day and overnight. (Don't I have the best friends, really?) That left Rob and me a little over 24 hours to make a quick trip down to Athens. He got his office keys, chose furniture and paint, finalized new computer details, and got his official University of Georgia ID. I committed myself to this move by buying a "Bulldogs" sweatshirt at the UGA bookstore, not a step to be taken lightly. As we drove to Georgia, I hoped I'd have better feeling about Athens than I had last time (when I cried on and off all weekend, and sobbed on the way home). I had a better feeling this time. MUCH better.

It was interesting to walk through campus and absorb the energy of a big university and the history of "the oldest public university in the country" --as Rob reminded me several times, trying to impress me, I think :)

It was encouraging to meet with a realtor who understood us and to narrow our search down to a manageable area of town with good schools and proximity to church and work. We still need to sell our house here before we can commit to anything there, but I was happy with our options and saw lots of neighborhoods that looked likely.

After the past few busy weeks, it was lovely to have my husband to myself for a whole day. It's been a while since just the two of us have taken a road trip and it was fun just to be together and explore our new life without distraction. Simple pleasures like browsing in the bookstore, sleeping in, and sharing a diet vanilla Pepsi from the gas station just don't happen in our regular life.

We ate a really late dinner at The Grit, a little hipster, vegetarian college hangout type of restaurant. It was awesome and exactly the kind of place they DON'T have in Charlotte, but seems to abound in Athens. We had the best chocolate cake that I've ever had in my life, and I've really tried a lot of chocolate cake. I find myself looking on the bright side of things.

Everyday Food

2010-06-16T13:17:00.000-07:00

With our house for sale and the pressure to keep it clean all the time (Boo, hiss....), I've pretty much stopped sewing altogether. It's just not worth it to get out all my stuff, set it up, work for a few minutes, and then clean it all up again. I like to sew for long stretches and make a big huge mess with several projects going at once and that doesn't work so well with our lifestyle right now.

So, I've turned to cooking in my need for a creative outlet and hobby. It still makes a mess, but it's also a *necessity* to feed my family, so I might as well experiment a little with some fun new recipes.

My new best friend is my subscription to Everyday Food magazine. My new obsessions: 1) ricotta cheese, 2) getting creative in using up our food storage.

Here are some of our favorites. The french dip is an old standby, but the rest are new found treasures.

French Dip Sandwiches I used London broil for the last batch and they were the best ever--so flavorful and hardly any fat. Use leftover meat in chimichangas or burritos.

Whole wheat flatbreads with lamb and yogurt (I used ground beef with great success. This was an instant mega hit. Make extra flatbreads to serve with hummus!)

Thai Beef with Chiles and Basil over coconut rice (I have made with ground beef, sausage, and chicken--all tasty. Great way to use lots of that yummy basil from your garden!)

Zucchini Pasta with Ricotta: very light and summery.

Roasted Potatoes with Ricotta (this one is newly published, so it's not on her website yet. It's a fantastic way to use up the other half of the ricotta from the zucchini pasta. You can also roast the zucchini and potatoes at the same time to cut down on your work later!)

Preheat oven to 450. Place 1 1/2 lbs. small new potatoes in center of a 3-ft. long piece of foil. Drizzle with 1 tsp. olive oil and season with coarse salt and ground pepper. Bring long sides of foil together and fold edges over, then tightly crimp ends to create a packet.

Roast on a baking sheet until cooked through, 35 to 40 minutes. In a small bowl, combine 1/2 cup ricotta, 2 Tbsp. finely grated Parmesan, and finely grated zest from 1/2 lemon; season with salt and pepper. When potatoes are cool enough to handle, cut a small X on top of each with a paring knife and gently squeeze open. Dollop about 1 tsp. ricotta mixture into each. Drizzle 1 Tbsp. olive oil over potatoes. Serves 4.

Finally!

2010-06-09T14:28:00.000-07:00

One more dawn.
One more day.
One day more!

These words from Les Miserables keep running through my head.

Tomorrow is the last day of school and I'm ridiculously happy about it. I know a week from now I'll be complaining about the lack of routine, the messy house, and bored kids. But for now I'm so ready to stop making lunches, trying to catch the bus, and managing homework and projects. I'm going to sleep in on Friday just because I can.

It's still too early to tell if this is the summer where I'm incredibly organized and have fun activities and healthy snacks planned for my children each day.

And speaking of "The End", I recently read "The Road" by Cormac McCarthy--an apocolypse novel about the end of the world. Totally depressing and disturbing, but so interesting. I hope the end of the school year holds more promise than the novel.

I've still got my groove

2010-06-03T11:53:00.000-07:00

Today I chaperoned Maddie's 7th grade end-of-year party at the skating rink. It was the consummate middle school social experience, complete with lots of awkward moments from "the sevvies". It was fun to see them gain in confidence and momentum as the party wore on and I'm continually impressed with the quality of kids at Maddie's school.

I was, however, unprepared for the flood of memories that came rushing back when I first walked in to the rink today. Bad memories: The sweaty foot smell, the nasty black carpets with squiggly neon designs, the truly horrible pizza, and the annoying DJ voice-overs. Good memories: the huge wooden floor, disco lights, watching awesome wipeouts and talented skaters/dancers, and the feeling of doing something really fun with my friends.

As 100+ middle schoolers circled the floor, I thought back through my roller skating history-- from learning to skate in our driveway on my white skates with noisy metal wheels, to birthday parties and field trips to the 49th Street Galleria, to college disco skating parties at Classic Skating. And then it all came to a screeching halt about 15 years ago.

The loud, beat-filled music wore on and I began to feel so old. I didn't recognize any of the songs, except the Old Faithful of all dance parties, "Forever Young". But even that had been remixed and pumped up. I idly wondered what it would be like to skate again, then wondered if I could still do it, then longed for an excuse to try it again. No adults were skating at this point, but as soon as I saw a few teachers and parents drift over to the skate rental counter, I made my move and snagged the very last pair of traditional skates in my size. I surprised myself and Maddie too. I'm no roller derby queen, but I can still go round and round.

De-personalized

2010-05-12T10:46:00.000-07:00

I've recently read several articles on "depersonalizing" your home before selling it--the object being to let potential buyers imagine their own belongings in your home. They are supposed to be able to focus on your home, not your possessions.

Although I've been working on this for several weeks, yesterday was the big day to remove final portraits from the wall, including my favorite pictures of the girls in the entryway.

It made me really sad and I felt emotional all day long. Obviously, the personal things are what make our house our home and packing these things away make it feel so, well, depersonalized. Even though it's still our home, I can feel the tide turning toward a time when it will no longer be ours.
Many of you have asked about our progress. We are meeting with a couple of different realtors tomorrow and hope to have our house listed within the next 7-10 days. We are all decluttered and are working on painting touch-ups and last minute cleaning. I'm wondering if anyone would even notice if we abandoned our recently acquired storage unit and everything in it. In some ways, this feels like a much simpler way to live (without all our stuff).

A Moment of Loveliness

2010-05-05T11:58:00.000-07:00

I noted this today in the book I'm reading--Gilead by Marilynne Robinson--as an old, dying father writes a memoir to his young son.

"I wish I could give you the memory I have of your mother that day. I wish I could leave you certain of the images in my mind, because they are so beautiful that I hate to think they will be extinguished when I am. Well, but again, this life has its own mortal loveliness. And memory is not strictly mortal in its nature, either. It is a strange thing, after all, to be able to return to a moment, when it can hardly be said to have any reality at all, even in its passing. A moment is such a slight thing, I mean, that its abiding is a most gracious reprieve."

I had one of those lovely mortal moments the other night when Bea snuck into our bed in the middle of the night. She quickly fell asleep nestled between Rob and me, and I was drifting off again, when suddenly Bea began to laugh in her sleep. It was a prolonged giggle of pure joy. I stayed awake a while longer, hoping to hear it again and wondering what in her dreams could make her laugh with such unrestrained delight. I will never know what tickled her so in her sleep, but I'm so glad I was there to hear it; a "gracious reprieve" indeed.

Oh No, You Can't Take That Away From Me...

2010-04-29T05:56:00.000-07:00

I have thrown away an incredible amount of trash this week. There are heaping piles of stuff in our living room, all sorted and ready for our giant neighborhood yard sale this Saturday. My day consists of going from room to room and collecting items for the purge. Sometimes I have to dig deep, but most of it is obvious.

For years, we have harbored a largish collection of audio tapes that are locked away in cases and stashed behind the couch. A few nights ago, Rob and I agreed it was time to let them go. We rarely even open the cases. But when I finally got them out yesterday, I couldn't do it. I sorted and pruned and reduced from 3 cases to 2, but I couldn't throw our music out.

How can you throw part of your own soul away? How could you sell a piece of your personality to strangers? Here are just a few of the millions of memories linked to this box of cassette tapes:

saving my 7th grade babysitting money to buy "Yaz" and "Book of Love" at Spanky's Records & Tapes: my first music purchase ever.
Play. pause. rewind. play. pause: this is how we got the lyrics to our favorite songs--listening intently and writing them down. None of this internet search stuff.
the day Rob showed up at my dorm with his entire dual-recording stereo system loaded into a huge Jansport pack. We made our first (and only) mix tape. I still love it (and him).
making tapes for Rob while he was on his mission, and listening to his voice while he was so far away.
Being introduced to "The Clash" by my Uncle Bob and Aunt Andrea. British punk rock was a revelation to me.
going to a Depeche Mode concert (what were my parents thinking?!)

Oh yes, we're keeping these babies.

Where, oh where has my little brain gone?

2010-04-22T06:56:00.000-07:00

Seems like I'm hard pressed to even know what day it is...I'm going to try hard not to turn this into a blog about how stressful/hard/depressing it is to move, but you've got to know it is these thoughts that weigh heavily on my mind ALL THE TIME.

Since huge amounts of brain and muscle power are now dedicated to cleaning/packing/getting the house ready to sell, I find it difficult to make even small decisions about birthday parties, weekend plans, what to have for dinner.

Last night I purposely invited a friend over for dinner so I'd be forced to come up with something more exciting than grilled cheese or cold cereal. Then I had to call another friend mid-dinner prep because I couldn't remember what to add to our pesto pasta. (Peas: yes. Ham: no. Thank you Karen!)

I fantasize about a kind, fun, wonderful and rich family who will knock on our door and offer to buy our house before it even goes on the market. Seriously, I would love them forever.

Amid all the chaos, though, I have small peaceful moments where I feel like I get just a small heavenly pat on the back and a whispered, "You will be okay. You can do this." Those moments keep me going. I had a big one on Saturday, running an 8k race with my friend, Kim. It was a great race, I made good time, and it was the first race where I really felt like a true runner. (After 3 years...finally!) But I was truly, fully happy for about 15 minutes (before it got hard) and I was grateful for that.

My little mustard seed

2010-03-31T07:34:00.000-07:00

If you haven't heard our news, read here first. Then come back and I'll tell you how I feel about it.

I haven't exactly been a supportive, encouraging wife on this whole job application to Georgia thing. It wasn't what I had in mind, wasn't the timetable I'd imagined. I'm seriously working my way through the 5 stages of grief--I've passed denial, anger, bargaining, and now hover between depression and acceptance. It was a hard move here for me and I've realized it will be a hard move away.
In all my prayers and all my longing for assurances that this is the right thing, the one sure answer I've received is this: Trust in the Lord. General Conference was going on the weekend we had to make our decision, and I didn't get the answer I was seeking, but I was reminded of a few important things. Namely that I'm not alone in this and that I need my faith to be more powerful than my fears.

"Things work out, it isn't as bad as you sometimes think it is. It all works out, don't worry. I say that to myself every morning. It will all work out. If you do your best, it will all work out. Put your trust in God, and move forward with faith and confidence in the future. The Lord will not forsake us. If we will put our trust in him, if we will pray to him, if we will live worthy of his blessings, he will hear our prayers."
Gordon B. Hinckley

"If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you." (Matthew 17:20)

"Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths." (Proverbs 3:5-6)

Young and Old on Wednesday

2010-03-24T12:20:00.000-07:00

Today Bea got a book at the library called "Am I Big or Little?" The mom says, "You're little enough to _______" and the girl says, "But I'm big enough to ________". I've been having similar thoughts all week about my age as I creep uncomfortably closer to 40. Am I young or am I old?

I've made peace--even friends--with my brown curly hair just when it's starting to turn gray and thin. Am I too old to grow it long one last time?

I'm determined to beat my weight into submission, but the stretch marks and crow's feet are here to stay. I'm working on the conviction that healthy can be even more beautiful than young.

I love to exercise on the wii fit--the only video game I've ever done well on--because my virtual age is always younger than my real age!

Am I happy? (yes)
Do I feel fulfilled? (mostly)
Do I have meaningful relationships in my life? (yes)
Am I a good mother? (I think I'm okay, but complaints around here often say otherwise. It's easy to lose confidence.)
Do I have any major regrets in life? (no)
Do I have a testimony and faith? (yes)

So far so good. I think I will pursue another year.

from my girls:
Sarah Jane: Mom is old enough to cook her own meals, but young enough not to be a grandma.
Eloise: Mom is old enough to know a lot but young enough to still learn from her daughters :) .
Maddie: Mom is old enough to yell at me, but young enough to go shopping with me.

Lucky Irish heirloom recipes

2010-03-17T14:03:00.000-07:00

On several different years, I've tried making corned beef and cabbage on St. Patrick's Day. It just never turns out how I think it should and every time I ask myself why I feel compelled to make this traditional Irish dish. We're not Irish. I don't buy green candy or decorate with shamrocks. I do wear green, but just because it's funny to wonder if someone besides my kids would pinch me for not wearing green. :)

Today I decided to try a new tradition--Irish beef stew--by using our favorite stew recipe (and just calling it 'Irish'). I gathered all the ingredients and pulled out the crockpot, but when I went to get the recipe, it was nowhere to be found. I've made it many times, but apparently didn't put the card back last time. I called my mother-in-law, who first gave me the recipe. When I couldn't reach her, I made my way through several sisters-in-law, and then to my own mother. Each woman gave me a different recipe, and I had no luck finding a similar recipe online. So I made it according to memory, knowing full well I was missing ingredients and amounts. We haven't tasted it yet, but I wonder if anyone will say, "This doesn't taste the same...."

It made me think about recipes and how they get passed on, changed, adopted as our own. I would seriously consider rescuing my cookbooks if our house was burning down. I've realized today that there are thousands of beef stew recipes, but only one that is our family's favorite. It made me think of a dear friend whose mother has passed away and one of my friend's biggest regrets is that she didn't write down all of her mother's best recipes and the changes she made.

I like trying new recipes, but I'm trying to compile a 'best of' and would be happy to share it once I get organized (check back in a few years!). I have made MANY pots of minestrone, but always come back to my mom's. Her cream pies are the BEST, too. But I don't use her roll recipe (I use the Lion House recipe) and obviously, we inherited a wonderful beef stew recipe from Rob's side. If I get lucky and find it soon, I'll post it here.

Retreating

2010-03-10T12:21:00.000-08:00

Sometimes you just gotta get out of Dodge. We are headed to the Great Smoky Mountains in Tennessee to celebrate Sarah Jane's birthday. We try to do an "experience" gift when our kids turn 8, and hers coincided with an invitation from some good friends in Indiana. They have a daughter Sarah's age, and she couldn't be more thrilled than to have a whole weekend of playing with a friend! We are sharing a cabin in the woods and I can't wait for some new scenery, some down time, and some late night visiting with old friends.

Our digs are near Dollywood (huge amusement complex owned by yes, Dolly Parton), and Gatlingburg, TN (a famous mountain resort), but we are planning to spend our time wandering around outside, playing and hiking. A break from your usual life (even just for a weekend) can be so relaxing and refreshing. Plus, we get to eat yummy food all weekend and we even have our own hot tub! Ah, small luxuries.

Our friends are vegetarian, so it has been a fun challenge coming up with meals. Fun because I already have a lot of meatless meals in my repetoire....challenging because the mom is vegan and I hadn't realized how much I depend on eggs, butter and cheese.

Best of all, SJCC is 8 and 8 is great!!! We took her to lunch today and I'm about to start preparing a Chinese food feast for her requested birthday dinner. I love birthdays. I love that she is growing up to be such a sweet, lovely, creative, caring, entertaining girl. Love that she is more excited about going to the mountains than having an expensive, stressful, hectic birthday party.

LOVE that every year, she requests coconut cream pie instead of a birthday cake. Do you think I should break my no-sugar rule to have pie with her? I'm still debating, but dang, that pie looks good. I guess that's a Re-treat of another sort...
Boo. Bad pun, but I couldn't resist. The girls have been very into puns lately and I keep thinking of them. It's genetic.

Skinny and Neurotic

2010-03-03T10:52:00.000-08:00

Remember this post? Well, that friend who doesn't bake was my same weight and size 18 months ago. She had a little boy a few months after Bea was born and we often commiserated about losing the weight and getting back in shape. I'm still talking about it, but she has lost almost 40 lbs. and 4 pant sizes. She looks awesome.
I have been exercising consistently all this time and though I feel healthy and strong, I have not been successful in losing weight. Last weekend, I found myself scanning the internet for 'miracle cures' that would help me shed the pounds. As I debated about where and how to spend my money (gym membership? appetite suppressants? herbal cleanse?), I realized that I haven't really and truly tried the thing I know I should: eating less. (It's a painfully simple math problem...)

So starting March 1, no desserts until my birthday near the end of the month. I'm 2.5 days into it and so far, so good. I know it sounds ridiculous, but this is actually a huge milestone for me!! Cutting back on sugar doesn't seem to work for me, so I'm going to try cutting it out and see what happens. I figure 3 weeks should be enough time to tell if it's working or not.

I know this is boring to everyone else (sorry), but I now understand why people who lose weight seem to talk about it a lot---it has to be on your mind ALL THE TIME. Counting calories is boring and makes me feel neurotic, but feeling overweight all the time was making me sad too, so I'm going for the healthy weight/well-adjusted psyche approach. I'll get back to you on it.

The Gift of an Ordinary Day

2010-02-24T18:36:00.000-08:00

When I recently wrote about "Mitten Strings for God" by Katrina Kenison, I found out she has a new book called, "The Gift of an Ordinary Day". Her first book was about learning to slow down and simplify life with small children. Now she has two teenage boys who are preparing to leave home and she talks about learning to let go and to appreciate all those "lasts" and the longing mothers feel for that old busy life when your children needed you so much.
I couldn't put it down and it made me both grateful that I still have a few years left and sad for what's to come. Kenison talks about sitting down across the table from her teenage son and realizing that she has absolutely no idea what he is thinking, when she used to be able to read him like a book.
Welcome to my world. Maddie turns 13 tomorrow and is in the full throes of hormonal mood swings, but she also makes us proud with her steadiness and good choices. Bea is coming up on 3 and is constantly testing her independence and our patience. But she also has such a sweet funny little voice and engaging personality that it's impossible to stay mad for long.
Today was just a busy, regular day--helping at the school, a dr. appointment, putting laundry away--but Bea wasn't feeling well and I got in some good snuggles with her and we played Polly Pockets for a while. With 4 daughters, I've played a lot of Pollys and Barbies in my life. I hate it, really. But today I tried to remember that one day I will long for a sunny hour playing with my 2 year old, while she laughs and chatters to me.
Straddling this age gap with our kids (from teenager to toddler) is taking unexpected amounts of energy, ingenuity, and prayer.

The Groove is in the Heart

2010-02-16T13:46:00.000-08:00

A friend put an 80's dance mix on my ipod and it makes me nostalgic every time I listen to it. Today as I ran my way through OingoBoingo, Erasure, The Pet Shop Boys, Def Leppard, and Dexys Midnight Runners, so many memories came flooding back.

I almost laughed right out loud when Pour Some Sugar on Me came on and I was transported to the summer of 1988, between 8th and 9th grade. I have a really strong memory of going to Lagoon many times that summer (Did I have a season pass? How did I get there? Did my parents really let me go to Lagoon unsupervised? I have no memory of these things) with my friends and this song seemed to always be playing. We loved it and would dance around and sing it at the top of our lungs. It was so loud and wild compared to the usual synth pop we listened to....so Def Leppard was my rebellious music phase (and only this song). Other sharp memories from that time of life include Slurpees at 7-11, chocolate cake donuts from Wally's Donut Shop, riding the city bus to my best friend's house, and some pretty sweet white ankle boots with fringe on the side. (My best friend, Alica, and I bought matching boots at Payless with our babysitting money. Yes!)
Through it all, I had some of the best friends ever, Alica, Kim, and Megan. We did a lot together in those years and they were such fun girls, and NICE girls too. As my own daughters begin to navigate the tricky world of girl friendships, I'm especially aware of and grateful for the good friends I had.
We are starting to see the first tiny signs of Maddie's interest in boys, and I can't help but think of all the boys who passed in and out of our lives in those years. The boys in my ward and neighborhood, who were always around, for better (and for worse, usually). All the crushes, phone calls, drive-bys, conversation dissections and school dances. If Maddie is even half as boy-crazy as I was, we are in some serious trouble, with a capital T!

All these thoughts as I ran and wondered how I became who I am now from the girl who danced in the sun at Lagoon 22 years ago.

The Tale of Timmy Tiptoes

2010-02-10T11:35:00.000-08:00

He's a favorite nap-time story friend....the fat little squirrel who hides nuts in a hollow tree. (I personally favor his naught friend, Chippy Hackee, the striped chipmunk, but that is entirely besides the point of this tale.) Chippy Hackee is the best name ever.

Now, however, fat squirrels are no longer my friend; now that there is one trapped in our chimney and I can hear him scrabbling, climbing, and falling down over and over again. It's agonizing...and disturbing...and creepy...and loud.

A mystery animal died in our chimney a couple of summers ago and it was very bad and stinky for a long time, because we couldn't get it out. We had our chimney opening wrapped in wire as they do here, but apparently, we have a really cozy chimney that attracts critters.

I spent a long time on the phone today with various chimney sweeps and animal control people. One woman insisted I tell her specifically what kind of animal it was, even though I repeatedly told her I couldn't SEE it, only hear it. Another man tried to reassure me that it was a squirrel, saying "cuz if it was a 'coon, you'd hear all sorts of screamin' and cryin' goin' on." Yikes. I guess I'm thankful we can only hear it scratching and not screaming--I don't think we could handle that. We're already pretty freaked out by the scary noises coming from the fireplace.

It's just much nicer to think of squirrels wearing aprons and little red vests and talking amongst themselves about where to bury the nuts. And then Beatrix Potter's little birds can sing, "Who's-been-digging-up-my-nuts?" and "little-bit-of-bread-and-no-cheese!"

We've got someone coming in the morning with a tall ladder, a rope (so the squirrel can hopefully climb back out), and a new chimney cap. So long Timmy Tiptoes.

Something Fun(gus) for Lunch

2010-02-03T10:01:00.000-08:00

Oh, mushrooms, how I do love thee. And now I hardly ever see you anymore since my husband hates you. Luckily he's not a picky eater and will eat anything except you, but I really wish he could appreciate your good qualities....

Once a year, I make myself a pot of Hungarian Mushroom Soup--a recipe I got from a friend a few years ago. It is so delicious and I savor it all week long, since no one else in my house wants to eat it. As the craving has been building, I've been telling my running partner about it and she wanted to try it too, so yesterday we had a little tasting party. I invited a few friends over for lunch and asked them to each bring something they love to eat, but that isn't appreciated by the rest of their family. We ended up with mushroom soup, homemade pretzels, awesome salad with pecans, cranberries, and goat cheese, and oatmeal raisin cookies. (Weirdo husbands--who doesn't like goat cheese or raisins, I ask you?!)

After being cooped up in the house for several snowy days, this was a really fun break and a delicious way to spend a couple of hours. Best of all, there was exactly one bowl of soup left, so I get to enjoy it once more. If you like mushrooms AT ALL, try this soup and you won't be sorry. The only thing I do different from the recipe is use fat free half & half instead of milk, and I omit the salt since there is plenty in the chicken broth.

What do you like to make that nobody else in your house wants to eat? Can you come over for lunch and bring some? I will make stuffed mushrooms next time...

**mushroom photo from aaaaahhhhshark.wordpress.com

Ten Years Ago...

2010-01-27T10:23:00.000-08:00

My friend told me this morning that she and her husband had been talking about how much they have changed and grown in the past ten years. She asked, "Do you think you're a better person now than you were ten years ago?"

I could hardly even think of where I was or what I was doing ten years ago, but now I can't stop thinking about it.

Ten Years Ago:
Maddie was almost 3
Eloise was 6 months old
We lived in an apartment in Orem, UT
Rob was going to law school at BYU
I was serving in a RS presidency and Rob was the EQ secretary
We spent a lot of time with family--siblings at BYU and weekend trips to SLC and Idaho Falls

We were less than a year away from moving to Indiana and starting graduate school, though of course we didn't know that at the time. It seems like my life is divided into two parts from that year, because moving away from everything familiar forced me to really and truly be an adult.

I don't know if it's good or depressing to realize I'm doing the same mom-type things with my life that I did then. I cook, clean, read, sew, play with the kids, do laundry, work on my church calling. (It seemed like a lot of work at the time, but it sure seems easy now to clean that tiny apartment!)

But AM I A BETTER PERSON? I'd definitely say I'm stronger, both physically and emotionally. I feel like a "real mom"--even then I sometimes felt like I was playing house. I love my husband more. I've learned lots of new skills. I feel like I'm a more thoughtful person, but it's hard to know. I wouldn't go back; that's for sure. I don't have too many regrets; that's good. There's an awful lot I can't remember; is that bad?

So now I will pass the question on to you. It is kind of fun to think about and kind of uncomfortable too, because it really seems to me that I should have made more measurable progress as a human being in 10 years....

Are you a better person than you were 10 years ago?

I get by with a little help from my friends

2010-01-20T10:58:00.000-08:00

I love my friends. I love keeping track of and staying in touch with those who are scattered far and wide (but I still can't bring myself to facebook!!)
I love the feelings evoked by conversations with true friends, who just "get" you and always know what you mean and what to say.
In the last week, I've had long talks with 3 good friends--two by long distance phone and one while completely-out-of-breath running.

Personal conversations with words meant just for me, but thank you, friends. I'm supposed to speak in church on Sunday about the still small voice, so I've been thinking about that all week. I think that Heavenly Father can speak to us through other familiar voices too--voices you love and trust can tell you things about yourself that you need to know.

And as much as I adore my girlfriends, Rob really is my BFF. I've heard women say they don't believe that stuff about a husband being your best friend...but it's true for me, truly. I've got good people on my team.

A Book That Changed Me

2010-01-13T09:53:00.000-08:00

A friend asked me last week to recommend some books for her to read, but she asked "What are your top 10 favorite books?" As I thought about it, I realized that my personal favorites aren't all books I'd recommend to others. I think there are certain books that you read at just the right moment and they take root in your heart/mind/imagination and somehow it fundamentally changes you and your view about life.

I read "Mitten Strings for God" shortly after Sarah Jane was born in Bloomington and it changed the way I felt about motherhood and the expectations I had for myself and family. It helped me know it's okay to pull back from other pursuits, even if they're good ones. You can be a good, helpful person without volunteering for every task that needs doing. It's good to keep things simple, casual, and manageable. I originally read it from the library, but soon bought my own copy to mark and reread. Every time I open it, I'm reminded of that time in my life when I made a conscious effort to slow down a little and I'm reminded to maintain that effort.
Friends who have read it have had varied reactions, but for me, it was an important book and will remain a favorite.

Have you read a book that has changed you?

Goody Two Shoes

2010-01-06T12:14:00.000-08:00

Goody Two Shoes: Someone who is virtuous in a coy, smug or sentimental manner.

I have a friend named Toncie Ball, a super sweet, genuine Southern lady in her eighties. She goes to church with us and blesses our family in so many ways. I love her grandma house with all the little treasures, her knowledge of southern cuisine and customs, her delight in our girls, and her bravery and optimism despite loneliness and health problems. Today Bea and I picked her up for a doctor's appointment and she had a new stick pony for Bea that she found on clearance after Christmas. Bea brought it into the doctor's office and proceeded to charm all the other patients in the waiting room (all older people, since it was a cataract surgeon).
I have often thought that if I ever go back to work or school, I would like to pursue something in geriatrics. I really enjoy older people and feel comfortable around them. One of the sweetest experiences of my life was living next door to my great Grandmother when Maddie was a baby--of course I loved her as my grandmother, but I also loved getting to know her as a neighbor and dear friend.
My parents had the inspired idea to send me around (get me out of the house!) on errands to many of the widows in the neighborhood where I grew up. I remember shoveling walks, emptying garbages, feeding cats, and raking leaves. I remember riding my bike to visit Brother and Sister Hyde. He was blind and she was slightly batty, but so nice. I'd do little chores for them and they'd give me stale candy.
I loved our little English neighbor, Ivy Buschi, and my assigned visits soon became my own idea and choice. A friend and I made up fake adoption papers and adopted Sister Buschi as our grandma. I was in 6th grade when she died and still remember the smell of her house and the sight of her swollen legs propped up on her couch, under an afghan. I treasure a small statue she left to me. It's called "Goody Two Shoes" by Royal Doulton.

All this is not to be smug about doing good deeds among the elderly, but just to say that it makes me happy to have adopted grandmas in my life.

Awww...do I have to?

2009-12-30T18:53:00.000-08:00

It's 10pm and I just remembered it's Wednesday and I haven't written. I have a stomach ache and I want to go to bed. I'm too tired to think of anything funny, inspirational or clever, but I was here--I didn't forget. Sometimes you have to know when to call it quits.

The three gifts of Christmas

2009-12-23T18:46:00.000-08:00

Rob and I went on a short date to Target last night to grab the last few Christmas items. We ran into a neighbor there and I asked if he was just finishing or just starting his shopping. I expressed condolences when he said he was just starting. But then he told us their family tradition: each year they give their children 3 presents--1 gift the child wants, 1 gift the parents want to give, and 1 gift in their name to a charity of the child's choice.

After our short conversation with him, I felt completely liberated by this new plan. Our shopping is already done for this year, but we are totally going to implement this for next year. I love the simplicity of it and the "pay it forward" idea of letting the kids choose a worthy cause.

I shared this idea with my neighbor and she had heard of these three gifts: something to wear, something to read, and something to play with. Also a sweet and simple list.

Tonight we made reindeer cookies and did a family service project. The house is vacuumed and we've got a cheesecake in the oven for a fancy Christmas Eve dinner with friends tomorrow night.

The only real bummer right now is that I haven't really wrapped any presents. Looks like a couple of late nights for me. I feel better knowing it will be different next year.

Rocky Mountain Christmas High

2009-12-16T07:53:00.000-08:00

With all the hubbub of traveling, house guests, end of semester school activities, neighborhood and church parties, Christmas doesn't feel very peaceful or full of wonder (except wondering when things got so out of control?).

Yesterday I realized that one reason it doesn't really feel like Christmas is that I hadn't yet listened to John Denver's "Rocky Mountain Christmas" tape. (Yes, I have a scratchy original audiotape version, and the holidays aren't complete without it.) I dug around to find the one remaining tape player in our house and sung along with John Denver while I sewed on some gift projects.

I love John Denver and I love this album. I love his Christmas with the Muppets album too. "Aspenglow" is one of my favorite holiday songs and it conjures up all kinds of images and memories of family, home, and snow. (All of which I miss SO MUCH today!)
I'd also like to note that my favorite Christmas hymn is I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day--NOT the country-western version, but the kind sung in church, with Virginia Funk playing all the bells on the organ. (a sweet memory of my youth...)
I also love Far Far Away on Judea's Plains and the secular but very fun Winter Wonderland and I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas.
I DO NOT like these Christmas songs:
Silver Bells
The Little Drummer Boy
Please, Daddy, don't get Drunk this Christmas (Sorry John Denver, this one's a total stinker!)

What are your favorites (and not favorites) to sing at Christmas?

P.S. Listen HERE to "Carolina Christmas"--a random family favorite by the Squirrel Nut Zippers.
P.P.S. I just went back and saw that I shared similar thoughts this same week last year. I'll try to be more original *next* December.

I dreamed a dream

2009-12-09T17:30:00.000-08:00

I always dreamed of going to Florence one day. I went. And now I'm home. Gosh, it's hard to come back to real life. (The kind of real life with responsibility, meals, cleaning, mundane phone calls, and whining kids.)

In the middle of several amazing days, I had one extraordinarily perfect day in the Cinque Terre of Italy. The picture from last week shows the town of Vernazza, and it is even more lovely in real life. As we hiked out of Vernazza, I turned to look back at the view just as the afternoon church bells began to ring. I stood in the sun, looking out at a breaktakingly beautfiful place, listening to the bells and I started to cry because it was all so perfect and wonderful and it seemed like too much beauty and happiness for one small moment.

It reminded me of a favorite poem by Billy Collins called "This Much I do Remember"--I will always carry in my pocket the small coin of that moment.

My Mantra

2009-11-25T07:20:00.000-08:00

Cinque Terre image from leslieitaly.wordpress.com

In exactly one week almost to the very minute, I will be getting off a plane in Italy. No matter how much I have to do this week, no matter what I do get done and what I don't, I'm still getting off that plane in one week and I'll be there all week. This is what I am telling myself over and over again as I make my way down the to-do list.

We'll stay in Turin for a few days for Rob's conference and then spend a night and day in Cinque Terre, then take the train to Florence for 2 more days. This is what's keeping me going.

Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?

2009-11-25T06:43:00.000-08:00

*Sigh* I miss my brothers. I never thought I'd say that, but I do.

On Sunday we had neighbor friends over for dinner and got talking about our childhoods. Our friend Steve grew up in a big family in rural California and regaled us with tales of dog attacks, 4-H gun projects, reaching into the septic tank for repairs, and sleeping in the barn with his 5 brothers. We sat around the table laughing so hard at his funny memories and the relish with which he told them. The girls were shocked, fascinated and completely hooked. I told Steve he was a total dirthead and only later realized he probably doesn't know what I meant by that.

Being a dirthead (more on the definition below) is pretty standard behavior for my 5 brothers and they are, in fact, proud of this. Listening to Steve, his wife Kim, and our friend Becky (both women grew up with only brothers), it made me miss mine. The sarcasm, puns, stories, silly accents, and dramatic re-enactments that bring me to laughing tears every time we're together.

For the first time ever, I really thought about what our girls might miss out on by not having brothers. I'm still thinking about what that means.

And just to preserve for posterity and confused friends, I'm including some definitive information.

'Dirthead', 'being dirty', 'being ugly'...these are all phrases from our family lexicon that essentially mean the same thing, but it's really hard to describe it. It's more a feeling and a way of being, than something exact. Basically, ALL of the characters in Napoleon Dynamite are dirty and ugly in some way. I appealed to my brothers for a definition, and got this response from John:

"It is difficult to give a precise definition of the term dirthead and is therefore generally more productive to illustrate typical actions of a dirthead. These include, but are by no means limited to:
Drinking "almost" all of the milk in the carton so you don't have to throw it away

-Any excessive pelvic gyrations while dancing (to the extent that ANY pelvic gyrations aren't excessive)

-Eating stuff off the ground or eating peoples' leftovers that you don't know

-Forwarding most mass e-mails is common dirtheadery

-Any shameful laughing that is "breathy" or results in the dirty smoker's cough

-Speaking in hood slang as a white person "I'm down wit lunch yo, cuz I gotta ax u somem'."

-Eating ribs for breakfast

-Any feigned interest in a product you are sampling at the grocery store

-Shimmying

-Eavesdropping on conversations while feigning to shop, work, or exercise

-Pretending to be asleep to get out of chores

-Using an olfactory "sniff test" to determine the healthiness or cleanliness of questionable food or clothing

Are you a dirthead too?

The Best Christmas Pageant Ever

2009-11-18T17:11:00.000-08:00

Against my better judgment, I responded to the frantic call for help to make *a few* costumes for our stake Nativity festival. Suddenly I had committed to make 10 of them. So I, in turn, made a frantic plea for help on Sunday. Three women came over to cut and sew with me on Tuesday and several more are coming on Friday night. (Thank goodness for Relief Society sisters!!!) So far, the costumes look awesome and I think the kids are going to have a great time dressing up.

I feel like I've spent A LOT of time at the church lately, having "a lot of churchy opportunities", as Nacho Libre said. Sometimes it feels so exhausting and crazy--I wonder how that busy-ness ties in with the gospel. The girl next to me at the dinner had a book of quotes by President Hinckley and I found this one, which immediately spoke to me.

"Cultivate an attitude of happiness. Cultivate a spirit of optimism. Walk with faith, rejoicing in the beauties of nature, in the goodness of those you love, in the testimony which you carry in your heart concerning things divine."
--Gordon B. Hinckley, One Bright Shining Hope

The testimony in my heart concerning things divine. That's why I do what I do. It makes me tired, but it also makes me happy.

My life as a moviestar

2009-11-11T11:43:00.000-08:00

Do you ever feel like you're in a movie? Maybe it's the heavy rain we've had for 2 days (remnants of hurricane Ida) that makes the light different and the mood more somber. Maybe it's having the kids home from school (Veteran's Day) that makes things seem unnatural. I just keep having moments today where I feel like I'm in a movie scene, waiting for someone to cue the music.

Scene 1: I slept in and woke to the sound of heavy rain, feeling thankful for a good excuse to skip my morning run. I watched Rob sleeping and listened to the girls playing happily downstairs. I have a good life, I know I do.

Scene 2: Our breakfast scene resembled the one in "Cheaper by the dozen"--LOUD, chaotic, and messy. And then everyone dissipated quickly and I was left alone in the kitchen with a sink full of dishes. I didn't even mind because it was 5 quiet minutes that I needed to recover.

Scene 3: A friend came over to get help on a baby quilt. We sat and talked and laughed and unstitched and then restitched together. A modern day quilting bee. Just my favorite thing to do on a rainy day.

If I were really cool, I'd select the background music to my scenes and provide links for you. But today the music will just have to live in my head(and in yours). I have to go prepare for my next scene, "Dinner", and I haven't read the script yet.

**When in high school, I was told more than once that I bore a striking resemblance to Andie MacDowell. It was the hair, I know. But I might pick her to play me in a movie.

I'd rather be fat and happy*

2009-11-04T18:42:00.000-08:00

photo from piesandbass.wordpress.com

Last week I found overripe bananas on sale for $.10/lb. I bought a dozen and Sarah Jane and I made a ginormous batch of banana bread to share with all the neighbors. My neighbor Jessica, who does not bake, raved about it and asked if I would teach her how to make it. Here was our conversation about what she would need.

J: What do I need?
F: Flour.
J: Okay, I think I have about 1/2 cup left from the same bag I've been using for 2 years. I only use it to bread fish. So I'll get more flour.
F: You also need sugar.
J: I don't use sugar. I just have those little packets for my coffee.
F: Okay, you need real sugar. And butter.
J: Can I use the kind in a tub?
F: No. Do you have a loaf pan?
J: I think....what does it look like?

Anyway, she came over with a new tiny bag of flour and her bananas and we made banana bread. She was so excited and interested and eager to learn and made me feel so good about myself and my vast knowledge of treat baking. As we cooked, she told me how her mom never baked and she grew up eating frozen dinners. I told her that I didn't know about those refrigerator slice & bake cookies until I was in high school. And now our worlds have collided.

I figured since the oven was on, I should make something too, so I made Great Harvest Pumpkin Bread. Jessica raised an eyebrow when I added chocolate chips to the pumpkin bread, then tentatively asked if she could add some to her banana bread. (Yes, by all means, yes!)

It was really fun to share a skill with a friend and I have thought all day about what a different person I would be if I never had flour, sugar or butter in my kitchen. I'm sure I'd be skinnier, but I don't think I'd be as happy. I get a lot of satisfaction and joy from baking, nourishing, sharing, and teaching. (Thanks to my amazing mom for her talents and inspiration in this area.)

**Probably my all-time favorite quote from my mother is, "Would you rather be fat and happy or skinny and neurotic?" NOT to say all skinny people are neurotic, and not to say I wouldn't like to be skinny...but I'm going to choose fat and happy for now, especially with the holiday baking season underway.

Time in a Bottle

2009-10-28T06:25:00.000-07:00

I distinctly remember the first time I heard Jim Croce's "Time in a Bottle"-- during an ABC Afterschool Special (remember those?) about drunk driving. I thought it was such a sad and lovely song. It is true that "there never seems to be enough time to do the things that you want to do".

Lately I've been feeling like there's not enough of me for everyone and everything that needs my attention. After a particularly trying day last week, I collapsed into bed in tears about all the things that get left "undone" each day. I told Rob, "I feel like our kids aren't getting what they need from me, but there's no more of me to give!"

He asked if I had felt neglected growing up in a family of 8 children. I didn't. But then I observed that I spend the majority of my time dealing with the needs of my oldest and youngest children, The middle two don't demand as much attention, so they don't get it. I realized that I was one of the demanding types and wouldn't have allowed my parents to neglect me (even if they had wanted to)!

Next I asked a friend who is the 4th of 8 children. "Did you feel lost in the crowd of children? Do you feel like you got enough attention?" She replied, "I didn't even realize personal attention was an option, so I never missed it." I laughed but then I kind of felt like crying.

I don't want to "save every day 'til eternity passes away", I just want to pull out an extra bottle of Time at 4:30 pm when 3 kids are doing homework & practicing piano, the 2-year old is having a meltdown and I'm trying to make dinner. This on the heels of last week's post about using time wisely....still working on ideas for this one. Let me know if you have any.

Living up to Potential

2009-10-21T08:16:00.000-07:00

This weekend Maddie got one of those dreaded lectures from her parents about her performance in school. "You're not living up to your potential". I say 'dreaded' because it involved lots of eye rolling and stony silence on her part. Lots of anxiety, planning, and discussion on our part. I mostly say it because I remember really hating this particular lecture from my own parents. I knew I could do better, but I frankly didn't care at times. It was obvious that Maddie felt the same. Now I feel the frustration of a parent who knows their child is smart and competent, but doesn't use their time and resources wisely to accomplish what needs to be done.

Flash forward to this morning. I'm in a funk. Tired, bored, overwhelmed, house is a wreck, I feel fat, etc. Don't want to do the 25 things on my to-do list because they're not things I really care about doing. I want to make cookies and get back in my pajamas and my bed. Rob asked, "Are you okay?" and I responded, "I don't want to do my life today. Can you be me for a day?" Dang, he didn't want to be me.

The obvious comparison has hit me within the last hour. I procrastinate, don't use my time wisely, focus on less important things. "Potential" is a nebulous idea and it's hard to always be focused, dedicated, and consistent about improving yourself or working toward your goals. How would I feel if someone was constantly pointing out all the ways in which I'm 'lacking'--falling short of my potential? (Stony silence from me too.) I think, "I'm doing the best I can, okay?" But honestly, this week isn't my best work. Not by a long shot.

I'm debating whether or not it would motivate me to get a lecture from my parents at this point. It's been so long, I'm not sure I remember how to roll my eyes. Oh wait, I just did it.

**This picture of Maddie is 2.5 yrs. old. She's much more sophisticated now.

Murphy's Law

2009-10-14T19:30:00.000-07:00

I clearly remember my dad explaining 'Murphy's Law' to me when I was 9 or 10. I was fascinated by (as Wiki says) "the perceived perversity of the universe".

Today was a perfect case in point. We were scheduled to meet Rob's parents and his sister Susan and her family in the Blue Ridge mountains. We had a full day of apple picking, picnicing, hiking, and browsing planned. And after a full week of lovely fall weather, today was very chilly and rainy. Why, universe, why?

Actually, it turned out to be a pretty fun day, though we were chilled and soggy by the end. We lingered over lunch, dawdled in a fun toy store, and huddled around a box of hot cider doughnuts at the orchard. We did call it quits on picking and bought pre-picked apples. They're still fresh, right?

So if Murphy's law is "anything that can go wrong will go wrong", I'm wondering if there's a phrase for the opposite--when everything that can go right, goes right.

Due to an amazingly wonderful confluence of events, Rob and I are going to Italy in December!! He has been invited to a conference in Turin and then we'll take the train down to Florence. I've always wanted to go to Florence. It's my name. I have to go. It's my new law.

Love is Spoken Here

2009-10-07T06:39:00.000-07:00

My favorite musical number from General Conference last weekend was "Love is Spoken Here" near the end of the Sunday morning session. It brought back happy memories of singing with my family growing up. Including parents, we had a total of 4 girls and 6 boys, so we could pull off a pretty good version of this number and frequently sang it for Family Home Evening, dinner guests, family gatherings, and I think we even sang in church a time or two. I'm certain that I rolled my eyes more than once at my Dad's request for us to sing together (sorry Dad) and I probably made disparaging comments (sorry everyone else) about our performances. But years later, my heart lights up when I hear this song and makes me really miss those times and the feelings of togetherness that come from being part of a family.

My parents' example of faith, love, perseverance, charity and service is a constant in my life and I am thankful for it every day. I feel so blessed to have grown up in a home where love was spoken and taught. I agree with the lyrics about the power of example and the reminder that the Savior is near when we speak in love. When I have happy memories from my childhood, it always makes me wonder what our children will remember from their growing-up years.

(Girls) I see my mother kneeling with our family each day.
I hear the words she whispers as she bows her head to pray.
Her plea to the Father quiets all my fears,
And I am thankful love is spoken here.

(Boys) Mine is a home where ev’ry hour is blessed by the strength of priesthood pow’r,
With father and mother leading the way,
Teaching me how to trust and obey;
And the things they teach are crystal clear,
For love is spoken here.

[ending together] I can often feel the Savior near
When love is spoken here.

“Love Is Spoken Here,” Children’s Songbook of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 190–91, Words and music: Janice Kapp Perry

Brain Waves

2009-09-30T11:28:00.000-07:00

On our way home from Wilmington on Monday I found myself thinking about my college roommate, Melissa. I hadn't heard from her in several months and was missing her, wondering what she's been doing. When I checked my email that night, I found I had an email from her and also a comment on our blog. Do you think that's coincidence or telepathy? I called her the next day and we had a long talk and laughed about catching each other's 'brain waves'. It's nice to know that someone else was thinking about you just as you were thinking about them. It seems to happen to me alot though.

The other thing that often happens is the desire to write a letter. Sometimes it's just wanting to put pen to paper, sometimes I get a feeling that someone needs a letter. I usually don't know the result of these promptings, but it always makes ME feel better to put an envelope in the mail.

But today the brain waves are short and far between. We're still unpacking from Wilmington and Rob leaves early tomorrow morning for a conference in Ohio. Eloise has been home sick for two days. Potty training continues. End of term projects are due and leaves are beginning to fall. The house is a wreck and I'm hosting book group here tomorrow night.

I was wondering why on earth I volunteered for that and then I remembered that with Rob out of town, the only way I can go is if it's at my house. We're discussing "The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society"--a book about books, told through letters--and therefore a great favorite of mine. In fact, my roommate Melissa had just discussed this in her book group and thought of me when they talked about writing letters. So it all comes together at last.

All this to deal with and the only thing I can think about it is what to make for the book group treat. I love planning what to serve. Potato Peel Pie didn't cut it, so I think I'm going to try an apple pie with a cheddar crust and vanilla ice cream. Brain wave me if you want to come over and try some :)

Items of Use in My Daily Life

2009-09-23T11:49:00.000-07:00

Specimen #1

Useful: I present to you the amazing, faithful, hard-working yellow tupperware colander(circa 1970's). It was given to me by one of Rob's college roommates after I expressed enthusiastic nostalgia for it. We must have had one like it growing up. I don't remember it exactly, but I remembered this when I saw it again and it was like meeting an old friend. "Oh, the yellow colander! I've missed you!" I've used this thing for all the years of our marriage for MANY purposes--food, crafts, and household projects. It might be the very most useful thing I own. Rob thinks he washes it in every sink of dirty dishes and has been known to ask, "Isn't the yellow colander in here somewhere?" We share a macabre joke that if I die an untimely death, this will be the thing that brings him to tears of remembrance each time he sees it. I will certainly stop to grab it if there's a fire.

Specimen #2

NOT Useful: I now present you with the vintage Snoopy alarm clock (also circa 1970's) we purchased at DI this summer. We thought it was so cute and retro and who doesn't need an alarm clock? Well once we put batteries in it, we discovered why it had been sent to DI. This clock has a heart-attack inducing alarm--one loud shrill ring (think Fire Station 5-alarm fire ring). Bea was playing with the clock in my bathroom yesterday and apparently set it to conveniently go off at 4:30 this morning. Scared me half to death! And sad to say this isn't the first time that has happened. In fact, my heart was beating so hard I couldn't fall back asleep and I lay there thinking what a worthless clock it is, since I've been truly "alarmed" by it at least half a dozen times and have NEVER purposely set it for its intended use. Back to Goodwill with you, little Snoopy. Run along now.

Specimen #3

Undecided: What do you think, friends? Are pull-ups a good thing or do they just prolong the agony? We have entered this swampy middle ground of potty-training and I'm not sure if these are useful or not. We're definitely out of the diapers. (There are 6 left in the house and I'm refusing to buy more--will I regret that?) But Bea is not completely (or even mostly) reliable in underwear. I clean up at least 2 accidents a day, but we are making progress. Just not enough to go out in public or to friends' houses without padded protection. Give me advice please. It seems like my last potty-training episode was a long time ago and SJ practically did it herself, overnight.

Anyway, these are three things I've used today. Two of these things will be used again and one no longer belongs in the family. Anyone need an alarm clock?

It's a beautiful day in the Neighborhood

2009-09-16T10:48:00.000-07:00

One neighbor(Shan) just called to say she took our other neighbor (Kathryn) to the ER with a migraine. Shan picked up Kathryn's son from preschool and called me to see if the two of us could pull together dinner for Kathryn's family. I'm supplying a few ingredients and making cornbread for 3 families and Shan is making Jambalaya for the rest of us. Nice. This is how our neighbors roll and we love it.

Our retired neighbor, Bill, has been teaching Rob jazz piano for the last several months and shares his bumper crop of tomatoes with us. MaryAnne next door gives us yard advice and her son helps us with mechanical repairs. Kim gets me out running in the early mornings and trades babysitting with me. Kathryn is comic relief at the bus stop in the mornings and Shan always knows what to do in a crisis. I keep tabs on everyone and try to get us together once in a while. We know everyone in 8 of the 10 houses we can see from ours (and a few neighbor/friends we can't see from our house).

Bill (piano neighbor) and his wife Gwen came for dinner last weekend and told us they are moving soon to be closer to family. Still in Charlotte, but not in our cozy little neighborhood. Rob doesn't get sentimental about much, but he was very sad about this news. It feels good to have neighbors you know and trust and it stinks when you have to break it up. Viva Cheshunt!

Thinking about this reminds me of all the neighbors we've loved before--the Tongan family, the sweet Jewish lady, and the eldery childless couple who raised turtles and chihuahuas (neighbors from my childhood). A fun neighbor named Megan who traded recipes with me while our girls played on the steps in front of our student apartments. The Wenglers, Bradshaws, Waltons, Hansons--dear friends in our Indiana Mormon Ghetto apartments :) Such happy memories from all those homes and neighbors. I often tell my far away sisters and sisters-in-law that I wish we could be neighbors--to share jobs, recipes, ideas & companionship.

To all of you, I sing:

I have always wanted to have a neighbor just like you,
I've always wanted to live in a neighborhood with you.

So let's make the most of this beautiful day,
Since we're together, we might as well say,
Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?
Won't you be my neighbor?

Won't you please,
Won't you please,
Please won't you be my neighbor?

Praise the Lord on Wednesday

2009-09-09T06:53:00.000-07:00

We had a super awesome Southern experience last night when we attended a Gospel Shout at the United House of Prayer for All People. We didn't make it to the Soul food dinner beforehand, but you can be sure we'll be there next year, because this is going to be an annual tradition for our family. It was everything I imagined and more--all the clapping, shouting, call and response singing, a capella choirs, and hands raised to heaven. The only thing I wasn't prepared for were the tambourines. Wow. I didn't even know the possibilities of this instrument. People in the audience even brought their own tambourines so they could bang along with the band. (Sorry for the horrible video--Bea was hanging on my arm--but you have to see this guy.)

For a better sound than I could capture, listen here. Loved the trumpets. Loved the swaying and clapping. It was loud and wild and so different from anything I've ever heard before. The girls (especially Bea) were a little weirded out at first, but soon we were all clapping and dancing too. You just can't sit still with this kind of worship going on. And it is worship, though very different from ours. It felt joyful, welcoming, and inspiring and called to mind a long heritage of beautiful song and dance in worship. Let all the people cry Amen!

Nourishment

2009-09-02T01:00:00.000-07:00

Part I.
Saturday was a Western North Carolina regional women's conference held in the mountains near Asheville. We had a special guest speaker from Salt Lake City: Julie Beck, General Relief Society President! I left home in the early hours of the morning to attend a training meeting for RS presidencies. We grabbed some lunch, held an impromptu presidency meeting, then returned for a second session with sisters from all over the state. It was really interesting, since Sister Beck did both sessions question and answer style. After a brief introduction, she took questions from the audience and then gave an answer, usually illustrated with a personal story and scriptures. By the time Rob picked me up at 3pm, I felt full to the brim, overstuffed with goodness, hope, sisterhood and strength. I learned so much, but here are my 3 favorites.

1) Spend time in the scriptures every day.
2) Poor visiting teaching numbers often reflect a reporting problem rather than a ministering problem, because sisters do care for each other in so many ways. Practice 'ministering' rather than asking, 'Does this count?' in regards to VT.
3) The most important skill you can have is to seek, feel, and obey personal revelation.

Part II.
Rob drove the girls to Asheville and picked me up. We met his sisters Susan and Megan at our special place, SkyTop Orchard. We picked a bushel of apples to eat (about 40 lbs.) and also bought a bushel of peaches when the highway dipped down into South Carolina (SC has yummy peaches too, cousins of the more famous Georgia Peach). It was a hot afternoon and a long day for all the little children, but we still had a great time. I spent Monday canning peaches (14 quarts!) and I'm proud of my efforts. I think even my mother-in-law Cecile would be impressed. I consider her the patron saint of food preservation, so if you can impress her, that's pretty good :)

Canning (when I do it) makes me think about my mother and grandmothers and helps me feel a connection to them. I hardly remember my mom canning, but I know she did it because we ate home-canned fruit and vegetables all through the year. I can picture her in my mind, staying up late, exhausted as she must have been, to finish yet another job for her large, hungry family. (Why, oh WHY, did I not pay more attention? Why was I not a more helpful daughter? I could just slap my teenage self for being so obtuse.)

My great grandma, Effie Adams, taught me how to can peaches when I was a young, new mom with a 5 month old Maddie. I remember that day in her sunny kitchen and how surely she worked. She told me how much she enjoyed teaching me because she had never had a daughter with whom she could share those skills. I felt nourished that day. Now it is my turn to nourish others and my bushel basket is full to overflowing.

Scents and Sensibility

2009-08-26T10:54:00.000-07:00

When you hear the words 'Polo', 'Georgio', 'Eternity', I'm sure your brain comes up with very specific images as mine does. Junior high dances, trips to the drugstore to buy illicit eyeliner and perfume knock-offs, etc. Smells of perfumes I've worn can conjure up those days like nothing else. 'Beautiful', 'Sunflowers', 'Tresor', 'Gio'. (That last one had to be given away after unfortunate associations with my first pregnancy nausea.)

Today while putting on my perfume, I decided to make note of my current fragrances. I'm not tied down to just one, but there have been a few favorites over the years and the ones I have now are definitely "me". I think perfume descriptions are funny because they sound so delicious, but it's really impossible to guess what it will actually smell like, or how it will smell on you. I've always liked Clinique's 'Happy' and love how it smells on others, but it quite literally stinks on me.

Several years ago we traveled to China with my family and found 'Les Belles Almond Amour' in the airport duty free shop. I fell in love with it and it has been my true favorite ever since. Very hard to find, but so worth it. This is my Sunday, date night, special occasion perfume. Another good one is Coco Chanel, given by Rob on an anniversary. It's a very mature and heavy scent, so it's reserved for cooler temperatures and grown-up occasions.

My everyday wear is Brown Sugar & Fig from Bath & Body Works. This is the lotion/body spray/body wash scent I use most. My Christmas present last year was Burberry Brit. I loved it in the store and tried it on several times. I still really like it and wear it frequently, but I don't think I'll buy it again. Just not the most 'me'. Funny how some scents are like that.

And funny how a specific scent comes to be tied to a person. Rob could never wear Obsession because that's what my dad wore all during my teenage years. And there are certain colognes worn by ex-boyfriends that are off limits. I like to smell the perfume bottles in my mother and mother in laws bathrooms. I loved to smell the bottle of 'White Shoulders' in my great grandmother's room, even though I think she rarely wore it. I love it when my girls sniff my perfume and tell me which one I should wear.

What scent are you wearing now? Do you agree with its description? What scents turn you off? I myself don't like Gardenia AT ALL (another pregnancy casualty). Word to the wise: put your (and your husband's) favorite scents in hiding during the first few weeks of sickness to avoid collateral damage. As you can see, smells were a 'scentsitive' issue. haha.

Charlotte's Web

2009-08-19T08:28:00.000-07:00

We've got a new pet spider. We've identified it as a black and yellow argiope (garden orb spider) and she has proved to be a fascinating friend in these last lazy days of summer. We know she's a lady spider because of her size (2 inches long!).

The web is situated between two shrubs, a mere 3 feet from the front window, so we've been able to watch the spider close-up from the comfort and safety of air-conditioning behind glass. Orb spiders frequently tear down and rebuild their webs, so yesterday we watched with great interest off and on for an hour while she spun her web. I've never actually watched a spider make a web and it was the most interesting thing ever. Rob says he's seen it lots of times--something about growing up as a boy and that's just part of it, I guess. It was a first for our girls too and we were all inspired by the work and talent of our spider. Maddie has even seen her trap and wrap a hornet that flew into the web. (She's harmless to humans, by the way.)

Also known as "writing spiders", this variety finishes its web with a white zig zag pattern made of thick, banded silk. We watched the spider go around and around her web, waiting for her to make the zig zag. We almost missed it during our breakfast break, but got back just in time to see it created and it was really amazing! It made me think of a quote from Elder M. Russell Ballard from this month's "Friend" magazine:

"[An] experience [with roses] led me to consider the myriad forms of plant and animal life that thrive in astounding balance upon the earth. My esteem for our little roses took on an element of wonder and reverence. I pondered the power of the creative genius who lovingly provided such marvels for his children. I thought then how important it is for every human soul to see and appreciate the glory and grandeur of God in everything about us."

We see the glory and grandeur in this creature we've been watching. Even Bea runs to check on her each morning. I don't know if I'll ever look at spiders the same way again.

P.S. I discovered this in my research today: "Charlotte gives her full name as "Charlotte A. Cavatica", revealing her as a barn spider, an orb-weaver with the scientific name Araneus cavaticus."

**photo from http://frank.itlab.us/zoo/

I'm the best at everything

2009-08-12T05:46:00.000-07:00

My cousin James Paul taught me the word "megalomaniac"--someone obsessed with wealth, power, genius, or omnipotence. I wouldn't say I'm obsessed exactly, but in light of recent self-esteem issues, I do find myself looking for reasons to pat myself on the back. James also taught me a catchy song he made up that became a family favorite: "My name is __________. I'm the best at everything. I just can't explain this feeling of superiority that I feel whenever I look at you...."

Okay, so I'm not the best at everything, but I've had this song stuck in my head all week and I would like to congratulate myself on sticking with my writing goal for one whole year!! This week marks a full year of Wednesday letters. Last year I opened this blog, but then decided to do it by email instead. I figure that after a year, those who have been reading will want to continue, and those who don't read might want me to stay out of their inbox!

I haven't been back to this blog since I wrote the first entry last summer and it surprised me to remember how strongly I felt that I needed to begin writing. I don't know why I felt so prompted, but I do know I have really enjoyed writing over this past year. The journaling, remembering, noticing, the response from others, even having a deadline--these things have all made me love and look forward to writing these letters each week.

I'm not published and I may never be, but I finally feel like I can say I'm a writer. I write. Every week.

Flori

I've only just begun....

2008-08-13T12:17:00.000-07:00

For some reason lately, I feel compelled to write. I think of poetry while I'm walking. I compose chatty letters and blog postings all throughout the day. And every time I read a good book, I think to myself, "I want to do that". I want to reach people through my writing and if even for a moment, have them connect and really know what I'm trying to say.
I don't know what it is I'm supposed to write, but I just feel I need to do it! I've always loved to write, and have always been afraid of it too. I've read enough in my life to know that bad writing is just....really bad. So I've been afraid to write, knowing that my attempts would not be a masterpiece or a best-seller.
Lately a quote has been running through my mind--something I copied from the board in my sophomore English class. "Writing is easy. You just pick up a pen and bleed." Drop by painful drop, it eventually all comes out.

I was inspired this summer when I read an amazing series by Nancy Turner, beginning with the novel, These is My Words. I was completely taken in by this story of a pioneer woman in the Arizona territories. Her world became so real to me and I've found myself thinking about these novels for weeks after finishing them. While researching the author, I came across this quote:

"As I catch my breath here between three-a-day book events while touring Arizona for the One Book AZ program, one thing comes to mind. That is, that this story, my story, would have been very different if a man in 1920 had not bothered to write his story. It was Henry Prine's memoir that put our family history on the map in Arizona, and inspired me to write my first novel. In these posts and profiles of myself, I have proudly - because they represent years of hard work - listed degrees that I earned along the way. BUT! I began writing that first novel long before I had even gone through the local community college. And Henry, my great-great uncle, had never been as far as high school. What I'm getting at is this: It's never too soon nor too late to write something. Your life is yours alone. No one else has lived it, no one else can tell it. You don't have to have a string of degrees to begin, nor even a sense of spelling and grammar. If Henry had waited until he could "do it right" it wouldn't have been done, and oh, how much I would have missed!

I want to encourage everyone to write your story. Not just where you lived and when, although those things are important. Write what you remember about your important events, what holidays were like, what you remember being surprised at, or not liking. Remember a food you loved or hated? Remember a gift you treasured or a secret you told to your siblings? Something as simple as a pair of new shoes is a great thing to a child. You don't have to be something unusual to be a writer. The fact that you write makes you a writer. Leave a journal, leave a memoir, leave a letter to a great-grandchild yet unknown. It's reaffirming proof of our existance, and I can't begin to count the number of people that have said to me, "I have my great-grandfather's letters to or from ____, and I treasure them!"

"The fact that you write makes you a writer" is my favorite line. I haven't been writing on a regular basis, but I plan to start today.