Awww...do I have to?

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

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

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

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

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?

*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

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.