Not Gone. And Not Forgotten.

On Sunday, April 3, 2016 at 9:00 am I met my daughter Joni and her family at my sister’s house.  We were there to visit my mom who had just come home from the hospital the day before.  I took a photo of Joni’s family next to the bed where my mom lay.  She visited with us and seemed like she was in such a good place.  She commented on how well the doctors and nurses had treated her in the hospital.  The visit was short, but sweet.

At noon I returned to visit my mom with my other daughter Lisa, and her family.  Mom seemed a little more distressed at this visit.  She was reaching toward the window when we arrived and asked me to open it.  Still, she was very conversant and happy and seemed to be very peaceful. 

That night at about 9:00 I started communicating with my sister about my mom.  She informed me that mom was having a very hard time breathing.  After a few texts back and forth I asked her, “should I come over?”  Her answer floored me.  “If you want.  I don’t think she’ll be here in the morning.” 

Of course I went right over.  My mom was already gone.  Her body was still there, heart beating, lungs breathing and tissues living, but I could tell at first glance that the essence of my mom was gone. I arrived at around 10.  She died right before midnight.

I think you always look back at situations like this and think of things that you should have done differently.  One thing that I regret is not letting all my kids know about their grandmother’s death sooner.  I sent a text.  I think part of me just couldn’t deal with physically speaking the words.

But because I just sent a text we had a sweet little experience.  The next day I was talking to Lisa and she told me a story.  She was in bed asleep and a few minutes after midnight her boys both started laughing and talking.  Lisa just laid in bed hoping they would go back to sleep, which they eventually did.  The next morning when Lisa got up she saw my text and realized that Grandma Haroldsen must have been the one who woke up the boys.  She just stopped by on her way out to say goodbye.

Another sweet blessing came on Tuesday morning.  My niece’s 2 year old daughter came crying into my niece’s bedroom.  “Someone was here,” she said. The mom asked who and her daughter said, “Grandma Haroldsen.  And she said she lives in heaven now and had to go.”  Then the 2 year old started to cry because she missed her.   

Some things happened when my dad died.  I had 4 or 5 dreams that were especially significant and kind of surprising.  But things also happened when I was awake and just living my life.  The TV I was watching would randomly keep changing channels, when washing my hands in a public bathroom the drying towels dispenser would suddenly turn on and spew out paper towels, lights would flicker on and off when I was trying to paint.  One morning when I had just awoken I felt my dad’s hands pat me on top of my head, just like he used to do. One day while standing in the kitchen with my sister and talking about dad, a fake bunch of flowers fell off the top shelf of a bookcase and landed right between us.  In each instance I immediately knew it was dad. 

I’m not sure if I’ll have those same kinds of experiences with my mom now that she’s passed, but I wouldn’t be surprised.

We may not be able to see them, but they are not gone.

I can't wait until I see them. 

Synchronicity

A coincidence?  I think not.

About 4 days ago I  all of a sudden started thinking about a doctor that we used to go to.  I thought about how I really liked him, how he cared for my kids when I took them in and how comfortable I felt there (not a normal feeling when going to the doctor), and how he had done a small surgical procedure on Mike back when I was about 4 months pregnant with Andy.  A procedure that virtually assured that Andy would be the last of our children. *wink* I knew there was some issue with him.  Something he was struggling with, but I didn't care.  I liked him!

I like him so much that I remember I painted a cookie jar lid for him to use in the office.  It was cut from wood and was painted to look like a bear wearing a lab coat with a stethoscope around his neck.  I also painted his name badge on it.  Dr. Spaulding.  

Today I saw this.

I think Dr. Spaulding must have died about the same time I started thinking about him.

Synchronicity in action.

Cross Patch

 

This kept going through my mind this morning.  It looks and feels nasty and cold outside.  I was putting on my shoes for work and kept looking at my spinning wheel just sitting there looking all cozy and warm with it's woolen homespun wound around the bobbin. 

I just looked up what Cross Patch was.  Apparently its a grumpy person.  Fitting somehow, because I didn't want to go to work.

Time Slows for Important Work

Yesterday, Saturday, as soon as I woke up I really felt like I needed to go to the temple.

I slept a bit later than normal, so it was 8:45 when I woke.  Too late for the 9:00 session.  I wondered if I could make it to the 9:45.

I went through my morning routine of feeding the chickens, gathering the eggs, eating breakfast and getting dressed with hair and makeup.  I kept having little set-backs, like I couldn't find my lipstick which was in my purse instead of in my bag.  I would start to get anxious and feel rushed and then I would just remind myself that if I was meant to make the 9:45 session I would.  If not, then I would just sit and meditate and relax until the 10:30.
I looked at the clock when it was 9:30 and thought, "I've got to leave the house right now."  I started driving to the temple trying not to feel rushed.  I kept catching myself speeding up in the car and then I'd slow back down to the speed limit. 

I hit all the lights green and thought that maybe I really was going to make it to the earlier session.  I only had one more light left and then it was just a couple more blocks to the temple.  I could see that it was green as I came closer to it, but right at the critical juncture of decision, it turned yellow on me.  I calmed myself and stopped.  I didn't want to rush through a barely red light fearing that it would make me feel even more rushed and harried.  I thought, "well, I'm not going to make it now.  Might as well go slow" because I knew that the lights had to cycle through to 2 or 3 other traffic patterns before it would give me the green light.  I had barely stopped the car, though, when a minor miracle occurred. The light immediately turned green for me, even though there were a lot of cars waiting in the other lanes to go.  I drove up to the temple as slowly as I could, and still felt like I was on the verge of feeling rushed.  There were no close parking spots, so I had to park in the back half of the lot and walk the distance to the front door.

Inside the temple I was checked at the recommend desk and then walked back to the dressing room.  I thought I might still make it to the 9:45. I took my white dress and shoes out of my bag, locked my bag and street clothes into my locker, and then dressed into my whites as quickly as I could.  I sighed a little frustration sigh when I realized that I had only taken 1 stocking out of the bag.  I had to retrieve the key, open the locker, unzip my bag and find the stocking before relocking everything back up.  I then finished putting on my shoes and socks. 

I walked to the restroom, almost bumping into another woman who was walking the other way.  I knew it was because I was still hurrying.  Once again, I forced myself to slow down. As I came out of the restroom I heard one of the temple workers tell a couple of women that the 9:45 sessions was full.

I had kind of expected that to happen, so I wasn't surprised, but I was a little bit disappointed.  I decided right then just to really slow down for real (and quit kidding myself that I was already slowed down), and stopped to write a few names on the temple rolls.  As I was getting the name of the woman who I was going to do temple work for, the lady working there told me that the session was full, but I was welcome to go and wait for the next one. I told her that was a great idea.

I slowly walked up the long flight of stairs to the upper floor where the chapel was.  I was kind of surprised when I noticed the door to the ordinance room was still standing open.  A woman was standing in the hall as if she was waiting for me.  She asked me if I wanted to do a session.  I said yes, and she said they had one more seat.

I went in and sat down, they closed the door, and the session began.

Bike Tunes

Every night about 8:00 I get this song stuck in my head.



So, about 8:30 or so, I go and get Old Betsy, and start peddling down my driveway.

Then this song immediately pops into my head.


(I even have a basket on my bike, and have been known to ride in a skirt.)

After going around the roads in front of my house I come dragging in to my driveway with this song in my head.

Pinterest - Tool or Obsession

I'll admit it.  I Pinterest.

When I saw all those other people raving about Pinterest and excitedly talking about all the great things that were no where else to be found I felt like a kid who hadn't been invited to the neighborhood birthday party. Add to that illusion by the fact that you had to be invited to join! I asked to be invited and gingerly held my breath, hoping I would make the grade and become one with that elite group, known as Pinteresters.
It was about 60 grueling minutes later that I got an e-mail congratulating me on the fact that I had passed the bar.  I could now Pinterest at my leisure.

At first it was a few quick peaks.  I didn't understand the format.  Why were there repin buttons and like buttons?  What is that deal about "boards"?  So I chalked it up to another one of those fads that I didn't see myself getting caught up in. And I quit trying.

But I kept seeing all these people I knew, intelligent creative people, who kept posting links to fabulous finds they discovered using Pinterest.  Finally I caved, and went knocking back on the Pinterest door.

And that's when I started to figure things out.

I am in charge of organizing my own pins. 
I create Boards (like bulletin boards) to pin my ideas onto.

My Hints and Helps for Pinterest Happiness and Success:

• If I don't want to just keep recycling all the stuff that all my relatives and close personal friends have been repinning from each other over and over until all of us have the same exact pins on all of our same exact boards, THEN I go to the top where it says "Categories" and choose a new subject that I want to explore.  THEN I see a whole lot of unrelated random people's pins that I can then clam for my own and pin onto my own wall and I can feel unique for about a half a day which is about how long it will take for all my relatives and close personal friends to see my new item and repin it onto their own walls.
• There are always those items that I REALLY want to try, but I'd rather there not be that exact same item in every house on my block, so instead of repinning, I save that website to Favorites.  That's right.  Sometimes I don't share.  I'm selfish like that.
• Sometimes I actually DO the stuff I find on Pinterest!!!! 
• Just because someone takes a beautiful wood cabinet and sands it down and paints it with pastel swirlies and polka dots and calls for comments on how much better it looks, I do not usually agree. It's okay to not think everything on there is "to die for".
• Don't judge what's going on in people's lives but what they're pinning.  I am currently pinning baby ideas, but I assure you, I am not pregnant.
• Before I repin, I will click on the link that shows where the pin came from.  Sometimes I see a repin from a repin from a repin before I actually get to the place that originated the whole idea.  Then I will use my OWN Pin It link to mark the page. I know later people will thank me.
• Dont try to scroll back up to the top.  Your computer will freeze.  Hit that "Scroll to top" button instead.
• Don't freak out when you click on something to have a closer look and then go back to the main page and everything looks different.  Pinterest seems to randomly change the order of things you see so that everyone gets an equal chance to be on the top of the list, I guess.
• Don't judge the quality of the pin by the repinner's apparent lack of grammar. No one uses the pronoun "I" in Pinterest.  You are immediately branded a newby if you say "I love this" instead of "Love this". Check out the pin anyway.  You can enjoy something cute without having to talk about it.

And that, my friends, is how I use Pinterest.

Cemetery Tales - Hints and Helps

I know there are so many people just dying to hear my hints and helps pertaining to cemeteries. (Sorry about the pun, NOT!)

Here they are in no particular order:

• When you are blue, buy Grey!

When you find yourself in the market for a headstone go for gray.

(Notice that I spelled grey two different ways. It's because I think gray is right, but grey FEELS right.)

Back to headstone selection.....although burnished brown, rosy rose and slick black look awesome brand new, it doesn't take very long before hard water deposits build up a yucky scum. Unless you want to go out weekly and remove the buildup, or hire someone to do the job after you are laying under it, it's going to look bad. Think shower doors scum.

I've seen headstones that are 50-75 years old that look relatively new because you can't really see all the hard water deposits that have built up, whereas I've also seen black or any other color look pretty beat up after only a year or two.

• If you live in a zone where your water is not so hard that you chip teeth taking a drink of it, then disregard the first help and hint.

Yes, aren't you lucky. Don't rub it in. If you DO want to rub it in you'll find me outside scrubbing the hard water deposits off my brown brick on the front of my house. (Why didn't I get grey?)

• Don't plant a tree next to your beloved's headstone.

Although you may think it the ultimate homage to pay to your dearly departed, what you are actually doing is creating the perfect environment for little birdies to besmirch the headstone for decades to come. Birds are not discriminating poopers. They don't really care where it lands. If they are sitting in a tree that some kind soul planted, and they feel the slightest urge to "let it all go", they are not going to scooch over on their branch even a little to avoid hitting that rectangular stone directly beneath them.

.... and related to this help and hint,

• If you stand under a tree looking at a headstone, don't look up.

You don't want to get it in the face if there happens to be a little birdie there who feels the slightest urge to "let it all go".

No, this has not happened to me, but it's only a matter of time.

• Pay for granite.

I know, it's expensive. It's also hard and won't deteriorate. I've seen some lovely homemade headstones. The work gone into these labours (labors?)of love is tender. It makes me sad when I see one of these do-it-yourself jobs and can barely read the name or the date, even though it's less than 10 years old. Even the small metal plates that the funeral home puts on lasts longer than most of the wood or cement markers I've seen, and those lose letters quickly. Hold a bake or garage sale and get something that will last.

• No Falsifying

I know you really wanted to have dad included in your family photo, but he died before the new baby was born. Whatever you do DON'T photoshop dad into the picture and put said picture on the headstone. Geneologist for ages to come will scratch their heads and doubt the dates of the new baby's birth. (yes, I've seen this)

• Break Out the Big Boots

If you haunt cemeteries like I do (sorry for the pun, a little) and have wrecked the ligaments in your feet because of all that hiking over uneven ground, put on your combat boots before you do one more headstone. So what if you look like a zombie because of the way the boots make you have a lurching gait. Wait.......... um, well.... what better place for you to look like a zombie than in a cemetery! :) I promise that your feet will thank you later.

Understanding Introverts

Top ten myths about introverts

Myth #1 – Introverts don’t like to talk.
This is not true. Introverts just don’t talk unless they have something to say. They hate small talk. Get an introvert talking about something they are interested in, and they won’t shut up for days.

Myth #2 – Introverts are shy.
Shyness has nothing to do with being an Introvert. Introverts are not necessarily afraid of people. What they need is a reason to interact. They don’t interact for the sake of interacting. If you want to talk to an Introvert, just start talking. Don’t worry about being polite.

Myth #3 – Introverts are rude.
Introverts often don’t see a reason for beating around the bush with social pleasantries. They want everyone to just be real and honest. Unfortunately, this is not acceptable in most settings, so Introverts can feel a lot of pressure to fit in, which they find exhausting.

Myth #4 – Introverts don’t like people.
On the contrary, Introverts intensely value the few friends they have. They can count their close friends on one hand. If you are lucky enough for an introvert to consider you a friend, you probably have a loyal ally for life. Once you have earned their respect as being a person of substance, you’re in.

Myth #5 – Introverts don’t like to go out in public.
Nonsense. Introverts just don’t like to go out in public FOR AS LONG. They also like to avoid the complications that are involved in public activities. They take in data and experiences very quickly, and as a result, don’t need to be there for long to “get it.” They’re ready to go home, recharge, and process it all. In fact, recharging is absolutely crucial for Introverts.

Myth #6 – Introverts always want to be alone.
Introverts are perfectly comfortable with their own thoughts. They think a lot. They daydream. They like to have problems to work on, puzzles to solve. But they can also get incredibly lonely if they don’t have anyone to share their discoveries with. They crave an authentic and sincere connection with ONE PERSON at a time.

Myth #7 – Introverts are weird.
Introverts are often individualists. They don’t follow the crowd. They’d prefer to be valued for their novel ways of living. They think for themselves and because of that, they often challenge the norm. They don’t make most decisions based on what is popular or trendy.

Myth #8 – Introverts are aloof nerds.
Introverts are people who primarily look inward, paying close attention to their thoughts and emotions. It’s not that they are incapable of paying attention to what is going on around them, it’s just that their inner world is much more stimulating and rewarding to them.

Myth #9 – Introverts don’t know how to relax and have fun.
Introverts typically relax at home or in nature, not in busy public places. Introverts are not thrill seekers and adrenaline junkies. If there is too much talking and noise going on, they shut down. Their brains are too sensitive to the neurotransmitter called Dopamine. Introverts and Extroverts have different dominant neuro-pathways. Just look it up.

Myth #10 – Introverts can fix themselves and become Extroverts.
Introverts cannot “fix themselves” and deserve respect for their natural temperament and contributions to the human race. In fact, one study (Silverman, 1986) showed that the percentage of Introverts increases with IQ.

(Source: http)
Jerry Brito

A Drive Down Memory Lane

Today on my way home from church I decided to take the long way home. On a whim I started driving towards the home of my youth. The place where I grew up, spent my life from age 1 to 22. It was kind of a shocking trip.

I wanted to see how much had changed in the neighborhoods. As I drove down the street I passed many familiar houses. As I passed, names would come. Wynn's, Seeley's, Stewart's, Klingler's, and on and on. Then, as I got closer to my destination I found myself saying, "Ricks', I don't know, I don't know, John and Sylvia, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know." I knew I was close to the farm where I grew up, but I couldn't really see it. Where had all these houses come from?

I finally arrived at our lane.

When I picture this place from my childhood I see a long gravel road. It seemed about a mile long, with a horse pasture on the left and a grain field on the right. Halfway down the lane is the big white brick house in which my family lived from the time I was in 3rd grade on. It was then one of the larger houses in the area. And it was surrounded on all sides by fields. At the end of the road, after a gentle S-curve, was the farm. It had 5 huge chicken coops, an egg-processing plant, the old farm house that we lived in previously, giant walk-in coolers and freezers, numerous smaller outbuildings, an elevator leg and grain bins, and sidewalks, gravel, dirt, weeds, and old farm equipment scattered in nitches between buildings or laying at the edge of the 25 acres that my father owned.

The first shock I received was immediate. This road was paved! I would have thought I was in heaven if the road had been paved when I was learning to ride my bike. Even walking was hard on the large rounded rocks that passed for gravel back in the day. The finely crushed gravel that I see on some country roads now is still a definite step up in comfort to what we had. Driving a car on this road had to be done slowly, the sound of rocks flipping up and hitting the oil pan under the car was enough to slow anyone with sense down.

My next shock was the number of houses on this street. Big beautiful houses with gorgeous landscaped yards lined the street to the left. I drove slowly, gawking in awe at the change. It seemed like I had only driven about half of a city block when I suddenly realized that on the right was our big white brick house. Surely it had been a longer walk than that to catch the bus at the end of our lane. It kind of saddened me to see the house. My mothers beautiful black wrought iron posts that held up our front porch were replaced by ugly wooden logs. There were also blue shutters put up next to each of the front windows, that looked incongruously out of place. The trees and bushes had overgrown so much that the house was almost hidden, but the driveway was black-topped! That would have been nice.

I kept slowly driving and gawking. I couldn't believe that there was another road behind our big house that had houses on. There were more houses on the lane to the left on the lane from our big house to the farm. And, once again, it seemed so short! All of a sudden I was driving past the farm house, which hadn't changed. Many of the building had been torn down and hauled away leaving long flat expanses of cement. I drove clear through the loop of the farm, on the road which was entirely paved. It was a shock to the senses, the mind, the memories, and the emotions.

I'm kind of glad I went. Kind of. But I don't think I want to go back.

Holiday Humbug

It's December.
time for twinkling lights
Bing Crosby on the radio
the smell of pine in my living room

and I'm just going through the motions.
I'm just not feeling it.

Yet.

How can I catch that elusive "Christmas Spirit" when all I'm feeling is a "Christmas Schlump"?

I've tried to become more aware of what makes me feel all warm and jolly and I've come up with a short list:

1. Attend Christmas Productions.

The Nutcracker Ballet was definitely a booster, not a schlumper. I will be attending the Messiah sing-along on Sunday and will embarrass myself whole heartedly, but I'll feel it again I'm sure.

2. Decorate the House for the Holidays.
I'm still only about half decorated. The tree is in my living room, but alas, totally bare. I briefly considered leaving it that way and just enjoying the sweet scent of pine, but I know my kids and grandkids would think I was "lame".

3. Make a Gift.
There is definitely nothing that sparks the Christmas spirit more than making a gift with your own two hands. It brings out the inner elf in you. I did a lot of my Christmas shopping online (another plus I think) but am making a couple of the gifts. I can't say what they are because the recipient might read this, but when I'm working on it I feel like whistling "Jingle Bells" or "12 Days of Christmas". And when the recipient shows up unexpectedly I scramble to hide it. Great fun.

That's it. I can't say much more than that is putting me in the mood. The snow outside is frightful, not holiday-ish. When the high temp doesn't get out of the single digits and the low is always in the negatives it feels more like January than Christmas.

I need help. What puts YOU in the Holiday Spirit?

November Gifts

~ My sidewalk is done and I love it! The first day after they took off the tarps I just kept going out there and walking it. It's exactly what I envisioned. I'm so glad Mike let me draw it out the way I wanted. Thanks Honey!

~ That my podiatrist is really helping me with my foot pain. First of the month I couldn't take a step without pain, now I am virtually pain free. I'm thankful for modern medicine.

~ That Andy received his Patriarchal Blessing. It was a special day, and he received some wonderful promises.

~ That Andy's mission papers were sent to SLC. We are waiting to hear where he'll be going. It's exciting and kind of scary.

~ That David and Emily's family were okay after they were in a car accident that demolished their car. What a blessing!

~ That I love my job. I truly feel appreciated and like a contributing member of a valuable team. They are the greatest people to work with.

~ That I went to the movies 3 times! I can go a year without going to the movies, but for some reason this month we just went. It was pretty fun, too. I went with Joni and Abby twice and once with Andy and Mike. When I went with Mike the manager loaded us up with pop and popcorn for free. Sometimes it pays to be married to Mr. Social Butterfly. He has friends where ever we go.

~ I'm blessed to have a warm house, yummy food, a cuddle puppy, 2 feline friends, and so much more. It's been a pretty good month.

Love is in the Air

Recipe for love:
Take a bunch of hormonally-charged young adults.
Immerse their brains in school work.
Overload them with projects, readings, 10-page papers that are due tomorrow.
Squeeze out all spare minutes, make sure they don't have time to hang out at their apartments, go to movies, or chill (after all this is a hot dish).
Intensely mix with other Geology students who are in the same pot of hot water.

...and watch the sproutings of love pop up here and there and every which where.

Maybe its ionic bonding.
Maybe its a magnetic pulling.
Maybe its the theory of "misery likes company".

These are science students, after all.

Just Start

I was in a group of people. We were waiting. I had a pencil and a pad of paper with me. I looked around. There were some very interesting faces. They hardly moved as we waited. I started to draw. It felt pretty good. It's been a long time since I've drawn anything. I was quite startled to realize that what I was drawing was really good! I thought to myself, "why haven't I been drawing for so long? I'm pretty dang good at it!" The faces were captured on my pad, one after another.

The waiting ended. I hurriedly put away my pad and pencil and stood up.

and then I woke up.

I think it was a sign. I need to start drawing again, whether I feel like it or not.

So tonight, after cleaning up another vomit mess and feeling drained that after a week my son was still sick, I went in the studio.

I got out my pad, and my pencil, and I started to draw.

and I thought to myself, "why haven't I been drawing for so long? I'm pretty dang bad at it!..........but I'll get better."

And you know what? It felt pretty dang good.

Fear not, I am with thee

When little Jace was diagnosed with Leukemia last week, his world turned upside down.
And so did his parent's.

Things are never the same after a diagnosis of cancer. When in the thick of the illness you lose touch with the life you led before. Things that used to loom so important barely even register in your conscious mind.

Sports. (Why all the fuss? Did I really care that much? What was I thinking?)
Success. (Don't care about the promotion. Don't care about overtime. Just don't drop me from insurance.)
Popular culture (What new movie? What new book? Who cares what the latest style is as long as my body is covered so I can get to the hospital.)

I remember going to the store for the first time after learning of my Dad's cancer. I felt like everyone was so blind. Don't they all know of the change which has occured? Can't they see it on my face? Can't they see my pain?

And later, when all the treatments had stopped, and my Dad was within days of dying. I couldn't help it. When a store clerk or casual acquainences would ask if I was having a good day I would tell them.
No.
I'm not.

And I would think,
My Dad will most likely be dead by next week.
Thanks for asking.

There's something about learning of another's cancer diagnosis that brings all this back to the forefront. And makes it seem like it's happening all over again.

Even though my Dad was old, and the old are expected to die
It's still hard.

Jace is so young,
and so the pain is compounded.
He's been in my thoughts a lot since I heard.
And so have his parents.

And whenever I think of them, I think of these words:

Fear not, I am with thee; O be not dismayed!
For I am thy God, and will still give thee aid;
I'll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand,
Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand.

It speaks peace to my soul. I hope it will speak also to them.

"It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live."
- J.K. Rowling

I was letting so much of living pass me by while immersed in blogs and the world wide web.

That is one reason I haven't had too much to say lately. And one reason I haven't visited my blogging friends more. I'm sorry. I need to be doing more things in the actual world, not the virtual one.

Wisdom Words of OSC

"He lay down fully dressed on his bed, not meaning to fall asleep yet. He just needed to think. About what, he wasn't sure.

So instead he thought about nothing. About things in the room. About the athletic trophies in a box in the closet. How much of his life was that? The shelves of books - so much time reading. Neither of them amounted to anything. He ran. He lost or he won. No one remembered a week later. And the books he read - what did that amount to? University people were always so proud of being readers instead of television watchers, but what was the difference, really? It was a one-way transmission. I read, but it made no difference to the writer. He never knew. And when I'm dead, what will it matter the books I read? My memory is where the book ends up, just like the TV show, and when I'm dead, that memory is gone from the world.

Like running the hurdles. Work so hard, jump over every one, fast, high enough but no higher, because you can't afford to hang in the air. And then, when the race is over, you're dripping with sweat, either they beat you or you beat them...and then a couple of guys come out and move the hurdles out of the way. Turns out they were nothing. All that work to jump over them, but now they're gone."

A Morsel from My Art Readings

"Keeping oneself alive is not living."
-Theophile Gautier

April's Gifts

~ I passed a pretty hard perspective class. Even got an A-. Not bad considering I was sick sick sick the entire last week and handed my final in a week late.

~ We signed the papers for our house refinance, a good thing with much lower interest rates.

~ Mike bought me a MP3 so I could listen to books on tape while I walk. I love it.

~ I started another class and it's pretty easy. A lot of reading, but not too time consuming. I'm glad I like to read.

~ I was able to rototil part of my garden before it got snowy/rainy/cold again.

~ It's now too snowy/rainy/cold to go out and finish the rototilling.

~ Joni was accepted into law school. Now she just has to decide if that's what she wants to do.

~ Andy is still golfing with the high school golf team in spite of what his coach did to him. I'm just waiting to see if the school district will do anything about what happened, but small town experience has taught me that they will look the other way.

~ Abby did awesome on her first wedding photography job. I'm proud of her and know she'll be successful.

~ I'm able to take my mom to church with me. Since she can't see to drive right now she comes with us. It's kind of nice for both of us.

~ I went to a fun party and made bracelet watches. It was fun!

I'm looking forward to May. April was kind of tough. My cough is finally going away, not gone yet, but going. 3 weeks is long enough to cough your brains out. I'll probably be taking a few days off of work next week, so that should be kind of nice too. Well it will be nice until I get my reduced paycheck, but you can't have everything.

Facebook Wisdom

I see quizzes on facebook all the time and hardly ever take them. Today I decided to stick my neck out and just see what came up. I took this quiz:
Linda just took the "Which Greek Goddess Are You?" quiz and the result is Artemis.

You are Artemis! The Greek Goddess of the moon and the hunt. Many people don't understand your personality, but you don't care. You're a rebel and you usually fall on the outskirts of society. You're unique and you embrace every aspect of that. Some say you're a wild child, and like Artemis, you know you are!

Kind of close to the truth. Maybe these quizzes are pretty accurate. So I tried another one:

"Which Tim Burton Character Are You?" with the result Edward Scissorhands.
You are very talented and artistic. Your character is very sensitive, even though people may think otherwise by your appearance. You begin to warm up to people after getting to know them for a while and often seem to be meeting new people in the neighborhood. Congratulations! You are Edward Scissorhands! .

I like that! If I could choose for myself I think I would have chosen these two. I may have to take more quizzes.

And now for your entertainment click on the following link.

AmericasCowboy

Yep, that's my classically trained violist daughter performing fiddle-tunes with her in-laws. Life is good.

Small Town Politics

Living in a small town can be an excellent thing, or it can be torturous.

When things are going along well, then it's kind of fun to know everyone in town.

But, if something goes wrong,
if enemies are made,
and past mistakes are never forgiven,

THEN
A small town can be a prison that you want to escape from.