Girl in a Whirl

Reduce & Simplify

2009-06-28T19:21:00.003-07:00

Yesterday a friend asked me why I have two blogs.

You and I have had this discussion before; you might remember we talked about Cross Blogination. I thought, at that time, that I ought to keep both my blogs going because I didn't want to snub the followers I had on this blog. However, it is a bit complicating.

So, I've decided that I ought to stick with one blog.

It pains me to say it, but I really do need to stick with one blog, and in this case, I'm going to make my alicross blog the one I stick with. I'm not going to altogether delete this blog, but I am going to make a go at just one blog and see how I do with that.

Long story short . . . if you're crazy enough (or love me enough, which I might argue are the same thing) to follow me over there, come on over and, if you don't mind, become a follower there.

Thanks so much for reading my blog and being my friends!

The Reasoning of the Spirit

2009-06-26T11:17:00.003-07:00

I've been doing a lot of soul-searching lately about my writing and where it ought to go. I came up with ideas that really seemed great. I told my crit buddies about them and they thought the ideas were great too. Everything seemed to say "this is the way you should go."

Until I had the opportunity this week, to resubmit some of my work to a publisher with only a few changes to the original manuscript.

I honestly thought my answer would be "no thank you," because the new ideas I'd had for my work made so much more sense. I could go on and on about the why's and wherefore's of my ideas and how they would benefit my book.

Nevertheless, it was a big decision (as in: Do I stick with my new plan and burn the bridge with that publisher? Or do I throw away all the good ideas I just had--and that sounded so darn good--in favor of giving this publisher another shot?) so I thought I ought to ask Heavenly Father about it.

I have found that the best and most reliable way to receive answers in prayer is to go with your decision already made, and then ask to know if you have made the right decision. I laid it out for Father, then told him I had decided to kindly pass on the opportunity and stick with the new changes I had been outlining.

And He disagreed.

At first, I thought maybe I'd misunderstood the answer as I felt it. But the next day, I continued to feel good about working on the changes the publisher had requested. I saw in my mind how the book could be improved, and more importantly, how the story, while less tantalizing perhaps, would have the potential of more clearly delivering the story I wished to tell. And, the more I tried to think about the changes I had just the day before loved, the more I found them hard to hold on to--they just wanted to slip from my mind.

I prayed again, just for clarification, and was relieved to be well and truly educated about the best path for this book. I had thought, previously, that the best path was the one that would lead to higher readership and sales. And boy, that sounds good, doesn't it? But now I know that success can be measured in more than one way.

So now I have to go to all my friends and take back everything I said about why I needed to change my story. I got the advice from the one Person who's opinion really matters and I'm going to go with what He said. So there.

Silence is Golden

2009-06-22T06:00:00.000-07:00

Come see my blog at the LDS Writers Blogck about the importance of daydreaming in your writing.

Thanks For The Memories

2009-06-18T06:00:00.000-07:00

Where do memories come from? Do they come from the special, once-in-a-lifetime experiences? Or are they found in the mundane?

Would your favorite lifetime memory be the time you went to Sea World with your family and got soaked to the skin? Or would it be the leisurely Saturday mornings you enjoy every week, laughing and joking over brunch?

Would you remember most the time you stood at the top of the Eiffel tower and surveyed the beauty of the Paris lights at night?

Or would it be the moment your child climbed into your lap, and looked at you, his eyes shining with love, and you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that you would give your life for him?

I’ve spent the last few days on vacation with my family. We’ve done things we’ve never done before, and have experienced things we may never experience again. Lots of money has crossed hands in order to provide my children with memories they could cherish for a lifetime.

And yet it was today, the most simplest of days, that has been my favorite.
Today we spent a few leisurely hours on a beach in La Jolla. The sun was warm, the sand shining with crushed sea shells, and the waves crashed with rhythmic intensity. And my children, my children were alive with happiness.

Where do I think memories come from? They are moments you share with someone you love. It doesn’t have to be a million-dollar-day. It can be every day. Just be present, be with someone you love, and be ready to remember . . . because it could be that moment, that fuels your imagination for the rest of your life.

Do or Do Not

2009-06-15T06:00:00.000-07:00

Come read what I had to say about the immortal words of Master Yoda on the LDS Writers Blogck.

Those Who've Been In Darkness

2009-06-14T06:00:00.001-07:00

As you probably know, I’ve written a novel called The Devil’s Daughter. As one might guess, it tells the story of a girl whose dad is Satan, and as you may have figured out, sometimes the story gets kind of dark. Twice now it’s been rejected by LDS publishers because of that very thing—too dark, they said.

The last time the manuscript was rejected, I took it kind of hard. I thought perhaps it was a statement about me. I wrote the words on those pages—they came from my heart. If they were too dark, wouldn’t that mean that my heart is black, that I am dark?

I’ve been thinking a lot about that, and it’s been rather enlightening.

My life is my own. I have made my choices and they have shaped the woman I am today. I have experienced pretty bad things, and it’s because of those experiences that I have felt to cherish the light when it has come into my life. The contrast of light and dark has made the wonder of the light all the more sweet.

I love the song “Hold On,” by Michael McLean. In it, he says . . . “And those who’ve been in darkness for a while, kneel much longer when the light has come.”

I had hoped that the LDS publishers would see that, would know that in order to examine the beauty of the light, we had to walk in the darkness, just a little bit. But maybe now I have the greater opportunity of sharing this story with people who are in darkness, who need to know there is hope.

That I can show these things in the stories I write doesn’t make me bad, it makes me lucky. Lucky to have seen both sides in this world. Lucky to have emotional resources that perhaps not all people do.

I will write the stories of my heart. I will share what I have learned so that maybe I can lift another. If I have the chance to show someone, just one person, the way out of the darkness, then everything I have suffered, all that I have experienced will be worth it.

Together We Are Beautiful

2009-06-12T06:00:00.000-07:00

I love the moments with Dr. James Dobson on my local radio station. In just a few minutes, he offers wsdom and advice on parenting and relationships, that I often find uplifting and insightful.

Recently he shared the story of a grocery store that underwent a social experiment of sorts. The store manager challenged his employees to come up with their own personal signature and use it to improve customer relations.

Nicholas, a bagger with Down Syndrome, took the instructions to heart. The next morning he came to work with a stack of notecards. The front of each card featured a thought for the day, and Nicholas had signed the back. He put a card in each customer’s bag.

A few days later, the manager of the store noticed a long line at one of the registers. He opened another lane, but the customers refused to move. They wanted to have their groceries bagged by Nicholas, because they wanted one of his notes. One customer said she came in every day, just so she could have a new note.

News of what Nicholas had done, and the customer’s reaction, spread through the store. Soon the florist was handing out a carnation to each customer that walked past. The butcher put snoopy stickers on each of his packages of meat.

In a short period of time, the environment of the store changed from something mundane to something extraordinary—an experience that customers loved and returned again and again to enjoy. All because its employees sought to discover who they were, and to share the gift of themselves with everyone who came into the store.

Far too often we hold ourselves apart. We hide our light under a bushel, if you remember that old Sunday School song. And what are we saving ourselves, our light, for? And if we are saving ourselves, will we recognize our moment to shine, when it comes?

Like Grandma’s precious china that goes unused over a lifetime because no moment is special enough to warrant its use, it’s possible our own best selves may also be wasted.

For any of you who have been reading my blog for a while, you know I have issues with being myself. I am constantly worried that myself simply isn’t good enough, that if a friend knew the real me, they’d be sorely disappointed. Who am I, after all, if not just me? Just me, is not that special. Just me is insecure, sometimes lonely, sometimes unsure of my beliefs or who I really am.

But, to be fair . . . there is more.

Just me is loving, kind and generally thoughtful. Just me has spiritual gifts that bless my life and have, on occasion, blessed the lives of others. Just me has learned to treasure love, to cherish it.Just me can often recognize the beauty in others, even if I don’t always see it in myself.

So what would happen to the world at large if all of us sought to share ourselves, to let our lights shine? It doesn’t have to be in spectacular acts of selfless generosity, it can be as simple as a thoughtful note, like Nicholas did, or a sticker of our favorite cartoon character shared with some neighborhood kids. What would happen if we told the people we met that they were beautiful? Or told a mom, when we have overheard her talking to her child, that we were touched by the love we saw there?

Would we be shunned? Pushed away? Possibly.

But would we make a difference? Almost certainly.

“This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine, let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.”

After a lifetime of feeling like I didn’t belong anywhere, I’ve recently discovered that I do have a place. There are people, strangely, who are willing to love me and accept me. And they are desirable friends, they are people I admire and for whom I have so much respect.

But there’s a catch.

If I want to keep these friends and be worthy of their friendship in return, I cannot hide my light under a bushel. I need to shine. Because in letting my light shine, I reflect the light of others, and together we are beautiful.

Tools of the Incompetent

2009-06-09T06:00:00.001-07:00

Sometimes you find pearls of wisdom in the most unlikely places.

Last week while watching So You Think You Can Dance, one of those pearls dropped into my lap. The unlikely giver, the unlikely setting, left my mind reeling. It was brilliant. Pure wisdom on a reality dance show.

A girl who had high hopes of getting into SYTYCD’s Top Twenty was cut from the competition. She was beautiful, shining, and while tears glistened in her eyes, she smiled, and offered wisdom:

“Excuses are the tools of the incompetent and I will not use them."

Holy Guacamole. Was that a pearl she just flung out there?

I had to hurry to write down the words, and then I spent some time googling them—wondering if the dancer had authored them herself, or perhaps she was falling back on wisdom someone else had given her.

There seems to be some dispute as to who the author of this wisdom might be, and in fact I could not find record of the exact line quoted above. Stephen Grayhm said “Excuses are the tools with which persons with no purpose in view build for themselves great monuments of nothing,” but I like the dancer’s line better.

I cringe whenever I hear dancers on the show, singers on American Idol, or people in regular every day life, offer excuses as a way to avoid consequences for their actions or choices. I used to be an excuse girl—who among us hasn’t tried them, right? But eventually I learned that I made so many mistakes that the excuses started to sound flat, even to my own ears.

The truth is, mistakes happen. As human beings, we are far from perfect and it shows. We make glorious, huge, life-altering mistakes. But the awesome thing about mistakes is that if we own them, claim them, and if we are willing to take a good, hard look at them, we can learn from them.

Learning never happens when our minds have built up walls of excuses around the truth.

Strangely, I am grateful for the mistakes I have made. Because of a poorly written first book, I strove to write again, to see if I could do it better. And again, and again. I am getting better, and it’s only because I haven’t hidden behind excuses as to why I wasn’t awesome to begin with.

Because of mistakes, I have felt the sweet swelling of love and forgiveness of my Savior and Father in Heaven. If I’d hid behind my wall of excuses, I might never have known how much They loved me.

And because I no longer making excuses for the poor choices my mother made, I’m able to see how I can pilot my life better.

No good comes from making excuses, while so much joy awaits beyond them.

Possibly Stephen Grayhm, but I’m not certain, wrote a poem related to the line given by the dancer on SYTYCD:

"Excuses are monuments of nothingness,

They build bridges to nowhere,

Those of us who use these tools of incompetence,

Seldom become anything but nothing at all."

I, for one, plan on being something, warts and all. How about you?

Don't Bother Me. I'm Writing.

2009-06-08T06:00:00.000-07:00

Come see why I haven't been blogging much lately . . . hopefully, you'll agree with me that I had a good reason.

Come read my blog today at the LDS Writers Blogck. See ya there!

Book Review ~ Dead Man Rising

2009-06-04T23:31:00.000-07:00

Dead Man Rising by Lilith Saintcrow

My review

rating: 4 of 5 stars
I have become a FAN of the Dante Valentine books.

Dead Man Rising is the second in the series and I thought it perhaps better with the first book. My only beef with it, was that it suffered from the same thing many in-between books suffer from. It felt a bit like a connector book, getting us from book one to book three.

But I was okay with that. I WANT to get to book three :)

This book had a much better story arc, a much more tangible antagonist and in general a more satisfying read.

What it lacked, and that I missed, was a strong love connection.

But again, I kind of guessed that from the name.

However, book three promises to give me more of that demon love I enjoyed so much from book one. Oh yeah baby!

View all my reviews.

So You Think You Can Dance in Retrospect

2009-05-30T06:00:00.000-07:00

In anticipation of the new season of the TV show So You Think You Can Dance, I wanted to share my favorite dances from 2008.

Just as an aside, last night when they aired another episode of the auditions, one of the judges talked to a young man who thought he could just "get a teacher and learn how to do other dances, then come back next year." This man didn't seem to appreciate at all the enormity of what the dancers were doing out there on the stage. It isn't something one can simply "pick up" and expect to do as well, to as great acclaim, as those who have spent years perfecting their art.

Just because my world revolves around writing, I found this discussion to be applicable to writers as well. I think I too often forget that I am new to this game, relatively speaking. I've only been writing for a few years as opposed to many like other writers I know. I need to pay my dues, put in a zillion of hours of blood, sweat and tears, before I can hope to be counted among the big boys. And I know the sacrifice of time and energy will be well worth it when I can join their ranks with my head held high.

Now, without further ado, and in no particular order ... my favorite 2008 dances ...

Whew, I guess that's all I feel like doing, lol. Sorry some of the videos were of crummy quality.

Free Spirit

2009-05-29T08:11:00.004-07:00

I used to think I was a rebel, and therefore that I was bad.

I've always hated conforming to arbitrary standards--whether they were imposed on me by my mother, by school, by jobs. Believing that I was a rebel translated to believing I was bad.

What was wrong with me, that I wasn't satisfied doing what was expected of me?

Sometimes not conforming has meant going above and beyond expectations, but most often it has meant marching to the beat of my own drummer or taking the road less travelled.

It also means that I often have to travel with a machete because the road is troubled with brambles and thorns. It's not easy to travel that road.

So much easier to follow the crowd, go along to get along, be one among the many.

But I guess that's just not me.

I used to think I didn't know who I was--and honestly, I'm still working on that. But as I hang around with more writer types I discover I'm less an island than I thought. Writer types get me. Writer types are like me. This is an amazing realization for me, because I've never felt so accepted by a group of people before. It's also a little scary because I'm not usually a group person. I fly solo. Typically.

So in the framework of this discovery, I've learned that it's not just about being a rebel. It's more like being a free spirit.

I don't rebel because I don't want to conform. I rebel because I have a spirit that yearns to be free of customary restraints. I need to be free to go where my spirit takes me. I am not bad, I am me.

I don't always know who I am, because I am constantly in flux. I don't have a particular style that defines me because I, by my very nature, am indefinable. I am simply me--happy, whimsical, determined, a bit nuts, special, unique.

I am not a rebel, to be contained and reformed. I am a free spirit and I am meant to soar.

A Tag of Eights

2009-05-26T20:36:00.003-07:00

It's been a long while since I've played a game of tag so when Shawntele tagged me, I was game (hardee har har.)

Here be Da Rules:
1. Mention the person who tagged you.
2. Complete the list of 8's.
3. Tag 8 other bloggers.
4. Tell them they have been tagged.

Eight Things I Look Forward To:

Getting my first book deal.
Losing the extra weight I'm carrying around.
Getting fit and being healthy.
Karen's photo shoot on Thursday.
San Diego with the family in June.
Seeing my sister again.
Finishing up Jump Boys and getting it into Shadow Mountain's hands.
Being a working, successful published author. :D

Eight Things I Did Yesterday

Slept in.
Had lunch with the fam at Red Robin.
Took the boys to see Star Trek and loved it--again!
Got rejected by a publisher.
Cried my eyes out.
Talked with friends.
Got hugged and held by my sweet honey.
Read a lot.

Eight Things I Wish I Could Do

Jump on a plane and visit my sister right now.
Deal better with Charlie on his 'off' days.
Be more consistent in going to karate.
Be a faster reader.
Be a more creative homeschooling mom.
Sing in an opera production again.
Make a CD.
Be published, lol.

Eight Shows I Watch

Smallville
Medium
Dollhouse
CSI
Eureka
So You Think You Can Dance
America's Funniest Home Videos
Chuck

Eight Friends I Am Tagging:

And there you have it! Crazy Eights, lol.

As you can tell, I'm back ... sort of. No promises, but I'm slowly starting to feel like myself again.

Don't be a stranger :) And if you haven't done it already, I'd love it if you became a follower. I'm a writer--I need constant reminders that I am loved ;)

Music Monday ~ I Am Proud To Be An American

2009-05-25T09:38:00.002-07:00

I don't know if I'm back or not ... but I'm here today. Things are looking up in my world, so I'm hopeful I can handle blogging more regularly once again.

I am not an American. I am a Canadian. And yet, I love the song I chose today. I sing along with it and I feel the words burn within my heart. Even though I am not an American, I feel the truth and power in the words and I am.

Grateful to have the privilege of living in the United States. Grateful to be raising my boys here, to be patriotic, to love the country and what it stands for. It is an honor.

Book Review ~ Working for the Devil

2009-05-21T15:51:00.000-07:00

Working for the Devil by Lilith Saintcrow

My review

rating: 4 of 5 stars
Holy bad language Batman.

Several times I put this book down because the language was getting harder to jump over. But, I didn't get it out of the house fast enough, I guess because shortly I returned to it. The story was just that good and I needed to read it.

Being a sci fi nut, I found this to be an awesome story. Saintcrow writes of a world, our world, free of conventional customs and restraints. She manages to weave description of a complex futuristic world into the fabric of the story with ease.

The protagonist is strong and believable--flawed in just the right ways that we can route for her, identify with her, and believe in her when she rallies and saves the day. (shh, I didn't say that.)

The love interest rivals, to my mind, Edward. Yes, I said it. I like him BETTER than Edward.

Their love story is not unlike that between Edward and Belle, except the whole thing rings more true and makes more sense to me.

The antagonist in the story was a little weak. Saintcrow could have done more with that, I think. I won't say more, because I don't want to give away the punchline, but you'll see what I mean if you read it.

And I do recommend the book. IF you can tolerate serious bad language. As in every-other-word-out-of-their-mouths kind of bad. I got into the rhythm of it pretty well and go really good at substituting acceptable words when my eyes grazed over the offensive ones. But I'm not sure that's a skill I should be proud of or not. If you're not offended by that sort of thing, then go for it.

This is a fast-paced, action packed sci fi thriller that's unique and exciting. If you like strong female protagonists, love found in unlikely places, and the overarching, and ever-present, battle between good and evil, then this would be a great book for you.

View all my reviews.

Taking a Mental Vacation

2009-05-18T22:00:00.000-07:00

Hi ya Folks,

I'm dropping by to tell ya'll that I'm not going to be blogging for a bit. Hopefully just a week, but perhaps longer. Or maybe I'll be back tomorrow. That's my prerogative, right? Keep ya guessing--that's my goal.

Don't worry, nothing's going on ... I just need to have a clear head with my writing right now and I'm finding there are too many voices talking at once. I need to give everybody a chance to say their peace so I can figure out what the heck they're all talking about. It's so noisy in my head, I can't even hear myself think.

So I'm going to go hang out with Me, Myself and I for a while, have some good heart-to-hearts, a regular ol' pow wow and see if I can't get some work done.

Forgive me if I'm not posting--especially, forgive me for not visiting your own blogs over the next while--and in the famous words of Arnold a la Terminator "I'll be bahck."

Till then, take care, adios, adieu.

Book Review ~ Skin Hunger

2009-05-14T08:54:00.001-07:00

Skin Hunger by Kathleen Duey

My review

rating: 2 of 5 stars
This was an odd book.

Skin Hunger is the story of two people, Sadima a young woman in search of love and acceptance for herself and the magical gift she holds secret, and Hahp, a teenage boy who has been sent to the wizard academy against his will. Interestingly, Sadima's story is told in third person and Hahp's story is told in first person, alternating by chapter. Furthermore, Sadima's story happens several generations before Hahp's.

All of that I can live with. For me, the approach was unique and fresh. I didn't have a problem with it.

What I did have a problem with was ... why should I care?

I found this story to be entirely too much telling and not nearly enough feeling, showing, living and breathing of each character's story.

And what was worse, the story barely got anywhere and then completely left me hanging without any resolution at all. I understand it is a trilogy, nevertheless there was NO resolution. I can't recall a novel where that has happened before. Usually at least some part of the story comes to completion, but in Skin Hunger that's just not so.

I honestly can't say that I could recommend this book to anyone. I will likely read the next book when it comes out, and then, perhaps, I might recommend the two together. But at the moment, I'd say, don't waste your time with this book.

View all my reviews.

Thoughtful Thursday ~ Mindfulness

2009-05-07T07:52:00.007-07:00

I've talked about this before but it's a topic I feel strongly about so I thought it wouldn't hurt to revisit the subject. Plus, I recently read an article that talked about the health benefits of living in the moment, and gave good tips on how to get started.

But first, a little refresher course on what mindfulness is. Mindfulness is a concentrated state of awareness that can help you see and respond to situations with clarity. It's the ability to clear the mind of incessant chatter and diffuse the color of emotions in your decision-making.

Mindfulness can also help you to:

Better manage tension and stress
Be more objective
Communicate and make decisions more effectively
Be more productive

It's not hard for me to imagine that mindfulness could achieve all of those things. I love the TV show Life and in it the main character, Charlie Cruz, is totally into the teachings of Zen. One of the sayings he listens to is "One plus one is one." I believe it means that to be truly at peace, we must be at one--with the world around us, with people, with ourselves.

Some of the benefits of mindfulness are:

Reduced blood sugar
Lowered cholesterol
Enhanced immune function
Reduced headache, migraine and back pain (I need this benefit!)
Improved respiratory function
Decreased abdominal fat (oh yeah, baby!)

So how can you begin being more mindful?

Start the moment you wake up. Rather than jumping right out of bed, take a few moments to notice the various sensations in your body--your heartbeat, breathing, or the way the sheets feel against your skin. What are you thinking about? Take a moment to be mindful of yourself just be before you get swallowed up in the thoughts of your day to come.

In fact, continue your mindfulness through your shower and morning routine. Notice the feel of the water on your skin, the makeup being smoothed over your face.

Any time you have time, practice being mindful.

"Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it."

~ Ferris Bueller

On your morning commute, turn off the talk-radio, and be. Take in the views around you, notice the other cars on the road, the feel of the steering wheel in your hand, the way your back feels pressed against the backseat.

Standing in line at the grocery store, pay attention to the muscles you are using to stand. Feel the measure of your breath.

I'm sure you can find many opportunities each day to practice being in the moment, to be mindful of yourself and all around you. I think all of us could benefit from being more mindful. I think we'd feel less stressed, less hurried, less out of touch with ourselves.

I was glad to read this article because I needed the reminder to practice being mindful every day. Too often I'm rushing through one activity so I can get to the next. Too often, I'm trying to do multiple things at once, ultimately resulting in nothing getting done to the best of my ability.

That could actually be one of the reasons why I love writing so much--it's impossible to think of anything else, to be anywhere else, when you are writing. The craft demands that you be there, 100% wholly invested.

Just remember, that the benefits of practicing mindfulness begin immediately and are greatest when done consistently over time. So come on, join me for a moment and just ... be.

Book Review ~ Bone Warriors

2009-05-06T06:00:00.000-07:00

First of all ... Bron Bahlmann. That's a name made for a book cover if ever I heard one. And Bron was definitely made to be a writer.

Bron started writing when he was in third grade and now has his first published book before the age of sixteen. How cool is that?

I think my boys would especially love Bone Warriors. It has all the stuff that makes a young boys' hearts go all atwitter.

There's an evil necromancer who forces the souls of those who died hopeless and without fear, power the crude creations in his army of bone warriors. There are two teenage boys, who's parents have been captured by the necromancer's minions, that are determined to save them and all the people of their village at all costs. There are unlikely allies, snake-men, giants, and myriad other amazing creatures.

Bron's story is unique and well-done. It comes to the edge of really scary without being too much (in my opinion.)

I would recommend Bone Warriors to boys between the ages of 11 and 15. You can buy Bron's book from Amazon here.

Teaser Tuesday ~ The Jump Boys

2009-05-05T06:00:00.000-07:00

Just to mix things up a bit this week . . . here's a tiny excerpt from The Jump Boys:

Jayce pressed the up button on his bed until his nose touched the ceiling. Pressing the down button, the bed’s tiny thrusters quieted and propelled the bed in the other direction, until it lightly bumped off the floor.

“Will you cut that out?” Val stuck his foot out and shoved Jayce’s bed to the other side of the room when it passed him on the way back up.

“Wooo!” laughed Jayce. He loved getting a rise out of Val. Jayce bumped into the media screen currently playing “Kung Fu,” an ancient TV show their mom had found while scouring the Beta Earth archives. Jayce put his hands together in mock humility and bowed to the image of the sun-dried man on the screen.

“My apologies, Master.” He laughed again as his bed spun away on recoil.

I want to read your teasers. If you've posted one of your own . . . leave me a comment and I'll come visit.

Happy Writing!

Music Monday ~ Tom Sawyer

2009-05-04T06:00:00.001-07:00

Next to the amazing Pop Muzik, I have two early music memories. I can't remember which I got first, so I'm going with this one. Tom Sawyer by Rush. I think I had the actual whole album, but I don't remember much more than Tom. It was definitely a fave. And still ... it rocks, man.

Hope you enjoy it!

In other news, I got Jump Boys ready and sent in to Lisa. It's such a blur now, I hope it was decent when I sent it in--after reading and re-reading it so much my brain was a bit fuzzy.

But I discovered something about myself--actually it was not an entirely new discovery, but rather it became a fully formed realization.

I love writing intensely.

The harder the work, the more deeply I am ensconced in the story, the more the magic breeds and the more I love writing.

I went through the same thing last year when I revised and rewrote Devil's Daughter in a three week full-time period. I felt awesome!

Now I have to figure out a way to keep that intensity going so I can feel like that all the time. It was so great I almost considered sending my boys back to school next year just so I could write full time. But that would be selfish--there are no good reasons for them to go back to school--only for me. And even that, not really. I love having them home.

So, I'm keeping the ball rolling by working hard to get my query and synopsis for Devil's Daughter ready to submit to agents. And then I'll work on Land Magic. Or The Blood Crown. Or ... hmm. Oh yeah--in the spirit of positive thinking I should work on a good edit/rewrite on Jump Boys so that when Lisa asks for the full manuscript it'll be ready. Yeah!

Oh, and don't forget to check out my blog today at LDS Writers Blogck ~ it's all about naming your characters--and naming your kids. You'll see ;)

Let's Go For a Ride

2009-04-30T06:00:00.000-07:00

My husband and I are terrible consumers.

We are gullible and trusting--hence, I think we often get taken for a ride.

Today we had a duct cleaning company come on out to our house to clean our vents and air ducts. I chose them because we had a coupon from them that they would clean any number of vents, any sized house for a flat rate. Granted, it was an excellent rate, but still . . . I believed it to be true.

The guy came out, looked at all our vents, and then announced that it would cost four times as much as the coupon. Of course, when pointed out, my husband saw that in microscopic print where it said that the price would depend on the number of vents etc.

Okay so David tells the guy, umm, no thanks. And then the guy says, well, you owe us for the service call, or they could do the vents on the main floor and we'd get "something" for our money.

So just now I looked up what air duct cleaning entails, because I wanted to see if the guy had actually done anything.

Turns out that the EPA says there is no definitive answer whether duct cleaning is necessary. It is their opinion that duct cleaning should only be done if you visible mold growing on your vents, you have a vermin problem, or your vents are spewing particles of dust and debris (visibly) into the air.

Umm, we didn't have any of those problems. And yet, we totally believed our regular furnace service man when he said it would improve the air quality in our home. We were so proud of ourselves when we found this company in the ValuMailer and their cost was substantially less than our heating and cooling company.

But apparently, for our money we got nothing. According the EPA web site, the service guy didn't do any of the things he was supposed to do.

So, yep. We were taken for a ride. And it was not a pleasant one.

When will we learn to do business cautiously? Well, we're half way through our life and we still haven't learned, apparently--so perhaps, never? *sigh*

Book Review ~ The Hand of Isis

2009-04-29T09:07:00.000-07:00

Hand of Isis by Jo Graham

My review

rating: 3 of 5 stars
At first when I started reading Hand of Isis I was thrilled that it read so much like Jo Graham's first book Black of Ships, which I loved. However, soon the similarity in voice began to distract me.

Who's head was I in? Sybil's from Black Ships? Or Charmian's from Hand of Isis? There was very little, outside of lifestyle and circumstance, to distinguish between these two characters.

I'm at a loss for what to say exactly about the voice because I love it, but I thought Charmian should stand out more from Sybil and be more herself. That being said, I love Graham's voice and am feeling conflicted, lol.

Hand of Isis tells the story of Charmian, handmaiden and half-sister to the great Cleopatra. Cleopatra has forever been an icon of the past and I found the subject matter and the crystalline way Graham wrote about her to be fascinating.

Graham wrote Hand of Isis in that beautiful lyrical way that won my heart in Black Ships and told about a time long past as though she really had been there.

Next to the voice of the main character, the only other thing that disturbed me about this book were the rather graphic sex scenes. There were only a couple throughout the entire book, but they were powerful enough to leave me feeling disappointed that I had read them. I hadn't expected them and kept thinking that they would soon be over or that something important would come of it. In the end, I just wish I'd turned the page.

I think what was most troubling about the sex scenes was the nature of them--they were not romance in the traditional sense, but dealt with the abuse of power and the alternate lifestyle choices that were the norm in early Greece, Rome and Egypt. Homosexuality and Bisexuality were acceptable practices at that time and so they were a part of Charmian's life. I just wish I hadn't read about them. I wish there had been a warning sign "avert your eyes!" before I came to those parts. I think the story would have been just fine without them--less is more, I think in this case.

So, overall, I'd say I'm a wee bit disappointed with this, Jo Graham's second book. While it was rich in beauty and imagination, it lacked in originality from her first book and in decorum.

View all my reviews.

WiP Wednesday

2009-04-29T06:00:00.000-07:00

For those of you who don't know, a WiP is my Work in Progress, which means the book or story I am currently working on. I thought I knew what that was, but I'm a bit befuddled after returning from the conference this past weekend.

I had been working on Land Magic--a story set in a make-believe world that acts and feels a lot like a medieval world. Except there aren't really any knights or kings or anything like that. Kind of hard to have kingdoms when your land keeps breaking apart and drifting away. You see, in Insulunda, my make-believe world, the land masses move like clouds in the sky. Sometimes coming together, always eventually moving apart. It makes it very hard to form relationships or build community for all the obvious reasons.

There was a time when the land was controlled by land wizards, but they fell out of favor with Gaia, the goddess of the earth. Now Gaia hoards the land magic and the people of Insulunda are left to drift aimlessly in the endless seas.

That is, until a teenage boy earns the respect of Gaia and the love of her daugther, Tera. Aren and Terra (not 100% committed to the names, so if you think they don't go together, give me a shout out--this is the first time I've written their names together and now I'm kind of going "hmm") together work to bring land magic back to Insulunda, but there is one remaining land wizard who is determined to be the only one who can control the islands.

Kale is an ancient land wizard who went a little crazy whe she felt the magic being withdrawn back into the earth. She couldn't face a world that she could not control. When Cernun, the god of the astral plane comes to her and offers to breathe life into her mechanical creations in exchange for Gaia's destruction, Kale is eager to agree.

How will Aren protect Insulunda of Kale's deadly plans and save Gaia from Cernun's evil intent?

I don't know! I will have to write it to find out. :D Oh, I have some ideas, but I'm not ready to share them yet ;)

So, Land Magic was what I felt prompted to work on before the conference, but now I have another priority. I promised that I would send out ten submissions to agents or editors within the next two weeks. But before I can even do that, I have to write the query and synopsis.

Oh yeah, and did I mention? I seriously suck at writing those things.

Plus, while at the conference, I had some ideas on how I can improve the voice in the manuscripts I have previously written and that I'm currently working on. I can't let myself get too distracted though.

Regardless, my WiP right now is a query and a synopsis. The synopsis is coming along and I'm feeling more hopeful about it now that I ever have before.

Teaser Tuesday ~ The Devil's Daughter, part two

2009-04-28T06:00:00.002-07:00

I tried to tune out the sound of Dad’s voice. He was heavy into a conversation trying to convince some con guy not to give up on his current gig. He disgusted me. So what if he was swindling little old ladies out of their life savings? If they were dumb enough to let them be taken, they deserved to lose it all. That was my dad's idea of mercy; relieve them of the heavy burden of their wealth.

I stuck the earbuds into my ears, selected my favorite 'happy music'—The Beatles, particularly the early stuff—and turned the volume loud enough to drown out the discussion of the fine art of the con.

I was just getting into the music when my dad yanked the left bud out of my ear.

"Got your happy music on, eh?" His teeth shone whitely at me. "You must be really worked up if you're listening to that junk."

His voice, his words, slithered around my head like a snake. Did you know Adam and Eve only named snakes after they had met my dad in the Garden of Eden? He was so smooth and deceptive, like a snake slipping into your bed at night. Cold and menacing. As soon as Eve saw her first snake, peering at her from between the rows of seeds she was sowing, she thought of Lucifer. Poor snake, to have such a retched namesake.

I glowered.

"Ooh. Desi's all mad—” he taunted. "Tell me all about it, baby. Is it that boy? Is that what's got you all worked up?”

"What boy?" I asked too quickly, my defenses obvious.

"Oh, you know which one, Desolation. Don't play coy with me." He reached over and snapped open his palm, holding it flat and face up in front of my face. On it appeared a shimmering 3-D image of Michael, leaning in to shake Dad's hand, exactly as my dad remembered it. My breath caught in my throat before I could stop myself.

"See, I was right. It is a boy you're all hot for. Can't fool me, you know." He settled back into his seat, his right hand caressing the gear shift languorously. "Tell me about him."

"He's just a guy, Dad." I tried to put the earbud back, but he quick-as-lightning reached out to grab my wrist mid-air.

"Don't give me that. You know he's no ordinary boy."

I'll do a few more of Desi, but then . . . you're on your own till the book comes out. ;)

I worked Monday on my synopsis. I met with Stacy Whitman at the Storymaker conference this past week and she gave me some excellent suggestions on what I could do to improve my synopsis.

I put her tips to work today and found them to be quite helpful. Hopefully they'll be helpful enough to get my foot in the door for the next ten agents/editors I promised my friends I would submit to within the next TEN days. No easy task my friends! Wish me luck! I fear submitting like the plague. Where's my hasmat suit?

Music Monday ~ Pop Muzik

2009-04-27T06:00:00.000-07:00

My very first album--a rockin' 45--was Pop Muzik by M. I have strong memories of that song for no good reason. I remember being so mad at my mom that when she stood outside in our front yard talking to neighbors I turned the music up SCREAMIN' loud, threw open the window and sang in my loudest and most annoying voice. Needless to say, I got the attention I was seeking, but perhaps not in the way I had hoped. I think I was about ten years old. And I was a brat.

But Pop Muzik remained a favorite of mine and still does to this day. It still makes me smile. So here's a little tribute to all the other forty-somethings out there who remember bouncing and bobbing to M back in the day.

Most of you won't be wondering where I've been for the past week, because most of you will have been hanging out with me at the LDStorymakers conference. But if you weren't there, I'm so, so sorry. It was (in the immortal words of Rhino the Hamster) fully awesome! Best time I've had a writers' conference yet.

Nope, no awards for me this year, but that's okay. I didn't have any right to expect to win one as I did not submit my best work. I tossed it off and well, you get what you get and you don't throw a fit as my son's kindergarten teacher used to say.

Nevertheless, I came away feeling like a winner. I have some new insight into who I am as a writer and how I can improve my writing. I made lots of new friends and strengthened the friendships I already had.

In particular, I'd like to give a personal shout out to Jenn, Laura, Melinda, Kristi, James, Rob, Tristi, Deborah and Julie. . Jenn was my roommate and is now my BFF. And I'm not even joking--if she'll have me, I'll be her friend for life. She ROCKS. Everyone else went out of their way to say hi to me, to make me feel loved and I did--I felt so loved. It was an amazing experience of acceptance and validation (haha if any of you were in Julie's class and saw that video :D.) Thank you, all of you, so much.

Hey, if you feel like checking out my blog at LDS Writers Blogck, you'll get to read more of my wacky weirdness in today's post.

Teaser Tuesday ~ The Devil's Daughter

2009-04-21T06:00:00.000-07:00

So, Elana, the Bandwagon Queen, got this thread from somewhere and I’m hopping on too. I mean, why not, right? I want you to fall madly in love with my stories so that you can add my prayers to the Powers That Be that one day my books will be on your local bookstore shelves. Can’t hurt, right?

So here goes, a little tease from The Devil’s Daughter . . .

~~~~~

Some people are born with a silver spoon in their mouth, but I was born with a pitchfork in my hand. I stood on the sidewalk and looked up at the castle-like building that was to be my new school and watched as all the rich kids dressed in matching uniforms made their way up the front steps. Not that I had a problem with rich kids—it was why I was here that I had the problem. The bright California sunshine tried to warm me, but I still felt cold. It was hard enough to be the new kid at school; even worse when you were sent to wreak havoc.

That pitchfork thing? I wasn't joking. Except, my family has never really used the pitchfork, that's a myth. My father never would have been the one shoveling coal into the furnace of hell. He had minions do that sort of thing. And I don't think he ever used a pitchfork as a weapon. Nowadays his weapon of choice would be the cell phone. He can ruin a life with one call. That's all it takes.

That’s why I didn’t want to go to St. Mary’s Academy. When I’d turned sixteen this past summer, Dad said it was time to join the family business. In case you didn't catch it, my dad is Satan and the family business is destroying lives and stealing souls. I was supposed to go to St. Mary’s to befriend a girl named Miriam Carr, a truly good girl, and turn her to the dark side.

Music Monday ~ The Climb

2009-04-20T06:00:00.000-07:00

Elana said she was the Queen of the bandwagon, but I beg to differ. That, my friends, would be me.

Shawntele has her Music Monday, Elana has her Teaser Tuesday and WIP Wednesday, and many have their Thoughtful Thursdays. You know me and promises (I make them just in time to break them, at least where my blogs are concerned) but I kind of like these thingies. I could also add Friendship Friday, Silly Saturday and Sacred Sunday. But don't hold me to it.

However, Shawntele did get me thinking about her Music Mondays and so I thought I'd jump in. You're supposed to post songs that have had meaning or that you've just enjoyed, through different periods of your life.

Right now, Miley Cyrus' The Climb is hitting the spot for me.

I can almost see it

That dream I am dreaming

But there's a voice inside my head saying

"You'll never reach it"

Every step I'm taking

Every move I make feels

Lost with no direction

My faith is shaking

But I gotta keep trying

Gotta keep my head held high

There's always gonna be another mountain

I'm always gonna wanna make it move

Always gonna be a uphill battle

Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose

Ain't about how fast I get there

Ain't about what's waiting on the other side

It's the climb

The struggles I'm facing

The chances I'm taking

Sometimes might knock me down

But no, I'm not breaking

I may not know it

But these are the moments that

I'm gonna remember most, yeah

Just gotta keep going

And I, I got to be strong

Just keep pushing on

'Cause there's always gonna be another mountain

I'm always gonna wanna make it move

Always gonna be a uphill battle

Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose

Ain't about how fast I get there

Ain't about what's waiting on the other side

It's the climb, yeah!

There's always gonna be another mountain

I'm always gonna wanna make it move

Always gonna be an uphill battle

Somebody's gonna have to lose

Ain't about how fast I get there

Ain't about what's waiting on the other side

It's the climb, yeah!

Keep on moving, keep climbing

Keep the faith, baby

It's all about, it's all about the climb

Keep the faith, keep your faith, whoa

This song has meaning for me right now because I have dreams that feel just beyond my fingertips. I want to believe that I can make it, and yet . . . there is that fear.

This song reminds me that it's not about the destination, but the journey. I do what I do, write, homeschool my boys, strive for a better me, because these things have meaning for me. Whether I am ever defined as a success or not, has little consequence to me today. Finding joy in the journey, keepin' on keepin' on, moving, climbing, keeping the faith. That IS what it's all about.

I Know I Shouldn't Laugh But . . .

2009-04-17T22:20:00.003-07:00

I think Craig Ferguson is so funny. To. Die. For. Funny. Seriously.

Yes, he's naughty. Yes, his brand of humor should probably put me to shame. And yet . . .

He had a bit on the other night about his dog and his naughty night-time habits. Darn but I couldn't find a clip of it. This video is not the most funny Craig I've seen, but it was the best I could do under pressure of blogging.

Anyone else have a guilty pleasure?

That Moment

2009-04-14T06:00:00.000-07:00

Everyone has a dream. If we're lucky, we get to live on the edges of our dream--close enough that we have the satisfaction of doing what we love, but ever falling short of the heart of it. For a rare few, they get that moment.

That moment when it all comes together, when the singer and the song are one, the writer and the story are one.

Recently, Susan Boyle, an unemployed woman from Glasgow, Scotland, had her moment.

It is not that her singing is technically perfect, because it isn't. The song choice is perfect. Her voice--the raw beauty of it--is perfect. Her moment, is perfect.

The video is long, feel free to skip ahead to the singing. Listen, appreciate her moment, and think to yourself--have you had that moment? Do you hope to?

There's a New Kid on the Blogck

2009-04-13T06:00:00.000-07:00

For the past month I've been a guest blogger on LDS Writers Blogck. Today, is my first official post as a regular contributor to the blog.

How in the world, am I going to handle yet another blog? Oh yeah baby, you don't know the half of it--but that's a blog for another day.

LDS Writer's Blogck is the offical voice of Authors Incognito. The theme is, naturally, writing--and every day there is a new post by a different writer. My day is Mondays.

So high tail it on over there and check it out. Today I wrote about the importance of a writer having thick skin--crocodile skin, to be exact.

Reflecting on Christ

2009-04-10T09:29:00.002-07:00

Today is Good Friday. The day our Lord and Savior fulfilled His divine purpose. The day He died for us.

I love Him. I will always remember Him.

Cross Blogination

2009-04-09T08:38:00.002-07:00

About a year ago Tristi decided she needed to simplify her life and one of the ways that she did that was to cut back on her blogs. I considered doing the same thing, but I have a few followers on each of my blogs and I didn't want to let them down.

But life is what it is and simplicity is a gem worth searching for, polishing up, and keeping front and center in your view at all times.

So, I think I've figured out a way to build simplicity into my life and to not give up my blogs altogether.

I have three blogs--The Cross Family which talks about my experiences with home schooling my boys. I'll leave that one the way it is.

However, my writing blog and this one are compatible, hence the cross blogination I intend.

When I post on my writing blog, I will also post it here. Likewise, when I post here, I will also blog there.

What will that mean to you? Hopefully it'll mean that you see more entries here, and that you'll read more about my writing.

We'll try it out and see how it goes. Let me know if it bugs you.

A Bit of Craziness In An Otherwise Ordinary Day

2009-04-08T14:23:00.002-07:00

I am totally stealing this vid from Nichole, but I don't care--I might have one or two readers who haven't seen this yet. This is most-awesome. Truly. Would I kid you? Worth a few minutes of your time.

What a fun adventure for both those who participated in this performance and all those who were unwitting bystanders in Antwerp Central Station on that unusual day.

2009-04-07T09:24:00.001-07:00

"Fear not, the future is as bright as your faith."
~ President Thomas S. Monson

Wizards R Us

2009-04-06T11:21:00.004-07:00

So yes, my family and I are still playing Wizard 101. Like a few of you said--it is rather addicting. It's added a whole new element to our family life. However, the good news is, that we still do it together.

Since it looms so large in our life now, two of my men have started blogs on the thing. I know, crazy, right? But I promised that I would promote them here, lol.

Xander is blogging again--about Wizard 101. He's got tips for players on where to find the best 'drops' or prizes you can win from bosses. Click here to visit his blog.

And David has a blog too--his is more a 'how-to' blog, I think. Check it out here.

Go here to get started playing Wizard--if you dare!

Judge Roy Moore on America The Beautiful

2009-04-01T10:49:00.005-07:00

This found it's way into my email inbox earlier this week, and though many of you will likely have also seen it, I thought I would share it here.

You may remember the Alabama judge, Ray Moore who was removed from the bench because he refused to take down a copy of the Ten Commandments from his courtroom wall.

Judge Moore wrote a poem in an effort to capture his feelings about the state of our nation. I think it's well done and that it reflects my own feelings on this subject as well.

America the beautiful,
or so you used to be.
Land of the Pilgrims' pride;
I'm glad they'll never see.

Babies piled in dumpsters,
Abortion on demand,
Oh, sweet land of liberty;
your house is on the sand.

Our children wander aimlessly
poisoned by cocaine
choosing to indulge their lusts,
when God has said abstain

From sea to shining sea,
our Nation turns away
From the teaching of God's love
and a need to always pray

We've kept God in our
temples, how callous we have grown.
When earth is but His footstool,
and Heaven is His throne.

We've voted in a government
that's rotting at the core,
Appointing Godless Judges;
who throw reason out the door,

Too soft to place a killer
in a well deserved tomb,
But brave enough to kill a baby
before he leaves the womb.

You think that God's not
angry,that our land's a moral slum?
How much longer will He wait
before His judgment comes?

How are we to face our God,
from Whom we cannot hide?
What then is left for us to do,
but stem this evil tide?

If we who are His children,
will humbly turn and pray;
Seek His holy face
and mend our evil way:

Then God will hear from Heaven;
and forgive us of our sins,
He'll heal our sickly land
and those who live within.

But, America the Beautiful,
If you don't - then you will see,
A sad but Holy God
withdraw His hand from Thee.

~Judge Roy Moore~

The Value of Friendship

2009-04-01T06:00:00.001-07:00

Friendships mark our days from our earliest beginnings. But do we ever recognize their value in our lives?

My first friend was a girl named Nicole St. Pierre. Her family lived next door to mine in Bramalea, Ontario, Canada. In 1968, her mom was pregnant at the same time as mine--Nicole was born one day short of a month later than me.

We grew up together, like sisters more than friends. Our mothers often dressed us the same--Nicole a dark haired princess and me, a fair little fairy.

Nicole and I shared toys and dreams. We were the shining lights in each others' eyes and cherished our friendship like none other.

Until she moved away.

We tried to maintain our friendship, but we were still little kids--I think we might have been eight when her parents moved. A few years later Nicole moved back, and we rebuilt our friendship as best we could. We knew enough, then, that a friendship like ours was a rare and special thing.

But children are swept to and fro along with the whims of their parents, and so it was with Nicole and I. We managed to stay in touch for the most part, but never had the opportunity again to reconnect with the friendship of our childhood.

I've had a few friends since Nicole. It's interesting though that I see a pattern in my selection of friends--I seem to have but one real friend for each time of my life.

From birth to grade eight, it was Nicole. Then Laurie from grade eight to thirteen. In university, there was Peggy. In my grown-up life there is Sheri.

I have many more friends as an adult than I ever did as a child/young adult. I'm more capable, now, of having 'lighter' friends--not every friend has to know all my deep, dark secrets. But it's nice knowing that someone out there does.

I haven't always valued the friendships in my life. I've been far too quick to lose touch, to not give the friendship the time and effort it deserves.

I'm writing this because I've recently realized that I am doing that again with Sheri. She is an true friend and so far she has always forgiven me of my lapses in being a good friend. She is the most amazing of friends and deserves better from me.

The value of friendship is something I want to truly appreciate. I don't want to grow old and discover I don't have any real friends left because I didn't treat the few friends I had with the love and respect they deserved.

Each one of my closest friends, and all those who I am now blessed to call friend, are wonderful and amazing in their own way. They are all unique from one another and I am a better person and my life more rich for knowing them.

Work Those Muscles

2009-03-30T10:06:00.003-07:00

The other day I took my sons to the optometrist. I was a little worried about Thing 2 because he's been complaining about his eyes being tired. Thing 1 was reminded that yes, indeed he needed to wear his glasses. Thing 2 however, was told that his eyesight was excellent.

When we enquired about why his eyes might be tired and the doc found out that Thing 2 reads a zillion hours every day, he said "Ahh, well . . ."

Your eye muscles, as it turns out, are like any other muscles and tire after a good workout. However, they also get stronger from a good workout. Huh, who knew. I was still operating under the old wives' tale that too much reading would make your eyes go bad. :D

I've noticed that I have been reading a lot faster lately and it occurred to me that this too must be like a muscle that improves with use.

I don't know if that would be my eyes or my brain (probably the latter) but I have definitely noticed an improvement in the speed with which I am able to read. I've been reading about a book a week lately, whereas it used to be that I would have to give up my whole life for a few days in order to get a book read that quickly.

This is super exciting to me because I LOVE to read, but in the past I've felt I "didn't have time" for it. Now, I know better.

I can teach school, write, keep my house reasonably clean (ha!) and still enjoy a good book. Sweet!

Who knew that reading was a form of exercise--good for your eyes and your brain. Now you can 'work out' and feel that you're doing yourself a service. What's that you say? Thanks so much for telling you about this important new workout? You're welcome!

Anne Bradshaw Contest Give-Away

2009-03-27T10:56:00.002-07:00

I love the group Fiddlesticks. They perform my favorite arrangements of "If You Could Hie To Kolob" and "Praise To The Man."

So imagine my delight when I discovered they were the prize to be awarded in Anne Bradshaw's weekly give-away!

Visit Anne's blog speedily, as the contest will soon end, and learn how you can enter to win your own copy. Or don't. Because, like I said, I want to win.

A Beautiful Language

2009-03-26T10:00:00.002-07:00

Have you ever read a book that entirely transported you to a different time and place? All books try, I think, but few truly succeed. Huckleberry Finn was like that for me--took me a while to get into it because of the vernacular, but after a while, I was so engrossed in the language of that time and place that I found it difficult to talk like a regular person. I heard everything in country-bumpkin redneck.

In high school I read the Iliad in Latin. I loved Latin. It spoke to me like no other language--it was beautiful, and reading the classic words of Homer in his own language was a real treat.

This week I've started reading a debut novel by author Jo Graham. It's called Black Ships and is about a priestess in the days just after the Trojan war who sees visions of the world to come.

Like when I read Huckleberry Finn, at first I found it difficult to get into the story. It's written in the classic way of times past, with the added eloquence of ancient Greece. It reads very much like a translated version of classical Latin literature.

I am almost half way through the book now and I can't read it fast enough. It's making it difficult for me to live in this world. The language is coloring the thoughts in my head, making me want to use words and phrasing that no longer exists in our modern world.

It is a beautiful language.

The way words can be strung together to paint pictures in our mind, make our blood run cold, make our hearts beat faster--it is a truly magnificent art form.

My own writing does not rival Homer or Mark Twain or Jo Graham. I write from my heart and though I admire the classical beauty of words, my heart is simple and what comes out is equally unencumbered with flowery turns of phrase. My words will likely never sing to a person in the same way that Black Ships sings to me. But I'm alright with that.

My words are my own and I will write them--they are sincere, honest, truthful to who I am. And words will never shine if they are false.

But just because I can't reproduce their beauty in my own writing, doesn't mean I can't truly appreciate writing, in this classical sense, when it's well done and engaging. It is a truly beautiful language.

Book Review ~ A Great and Terrible Beauty

2009-03-22T22:10:00.001-07:00

A Great and Terrible Beauty by Libba Bray

My review

rating: 4 of 5 stars
Well, I think it's safe to say that I am not a very discerning reader. I like what I like and to heck with the reasons.

I liked that this book was such a fast read and painted very vivid pictures that danced in my head. I liked the flowery language and the depiction of the characters.

Yes, the characters all seemed rather shallow, but it seemed appropriate to me given the era and social expectations. I found the fluctuating circle of friends to be totally believable and Gemma's personal conflicts similarly believable.

And, having not read a lot of Victorian era, I wasn't encumbered by any expectations so the book didn't let me down there.

Where it did let me down was in it's lack of depth regarding the tragedies encountered. I don't want to give anything away, but suffice it to say that stuff happens that ought not to and the emotions expressed by those observing, privy to, or involved in the acts go largely unexpressed and entirely without consequence.

Nevertheless, the story itself was a magnet that drew me in and erased any serious reservations I might have had. I have found myself picturing the story, after having finished it, as I would a great movie I've just seen--only to then realize that it wasn't a movie at all, but a book I've read. That right there tells me that this was, for me, a great read.

View all my reviews.

Thoughtful Thursday ~ Patriotism

2009-03-19T09:14:00.003-07:00

Last week my family and I had the opportunity to gather with a whole lot of other like-minded conservatives to listen to Glenn Beck as he unveiled his "9-12 Project". There were about five hundred people at the gathering in South Jordan where we were, and there were thousands more in similar groups all around the country.

I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't what I got.

I thought Glenn would tell me stuff, fill my mind with his views. Instead, he encouraged me to discover for myself what I believe. Educate myself. Know myself.

Glenn suggested that each of us read, if we haven't done so already, The Thousand Year Leap and The Real George Washington. Form a book group, of sorts, and discuss what we learn from these books. Keep abreast of the news and apply the things we have learned from these books to the news of the day.

In six months, Glenn wants to 'meet' again, and see how we have grown and what has been the product of us educating ourselves.

As a Canadian, I am rather excited by this assignment. I am shocked at how quickly it is turning from it's capitalist and conservative roots. I want to better understand what is happening to know what, if anything, I can do to help restore the United States to the strength and beauty it once possessed.

Even though I am not yet officially an American citizen, I want to stand up and be counted among those who love this country and and will fight to retain it's founding principles

Fall

2009-03-17T09:40:00.005-07:00

The other day, I was out driving around and had the radio tuned to a country music station. Clay Walker's song "Fall" came on and I listened carefully to the words.

I found myself thinking of my husband, and how I wanted him to hear this song. He does this for me--let's me fall apart while he takes care of me. His love is such a gift to me.

But then my thoughts went in a different direction.

Listening to the chorus, I realized they made me think of someone else who loves me--my Heavenly Father.

So fall go on and fall apart
Fall into these arms of mine
I'll catch you every time you fall
Go on and lose it all
Every doubt every fear, every worry every tear
I'm right here

This is what our Father feels for us, what He wishes to tells us. At least, that's what I believe.

With my Heavenly Father, I truly can fall apart. I can let myself fall into His arms, because He will always catch me. I can share every doubt, every tear with Him--He will always be there for me.

I know it might sound kind of silly to be thinking of Heavenly Father in the context of a country music song, but, hey, I'll take it. Sometimes I am too stubborn or too prideful to rely on God. I feel like I have to do it on my own--that I shouldn't ask for help.

This song reminds me that He loves me and that when it comes to Him, I don't have to be strong--He'll be strong for me.

Thoughtful Thursday ~ The Mormon Temple

2009-03-12T15:34:00.004-07:00

Many of my LDS friends will have already read this quote or seen the video I am sharing here today. But I wanted to write, for just a moment, for my family.

I love my brothers and my sister. I wish we were closer. I wish I could sit down with them and share my thoughts and feelings about the things that are most sacred to me. I suspect it may be possible that some of my family will watch with interest as the hoopla over the LDS temple unfolds.

I hope that they might understand that while television shows are web sites might try to portray what goes on in the temple, they cannot adequately show my feelings about the importance of what goes on there.

Hugh Nibley wrote, in his book "The Temple and the Cosmos," p. 64:

"Even though everyone may discover what goes on in the temple, and many have already revealed it, the important thing is that I do not reveal these things; they must remain sacred to me. I must preserve a zone of sanctity which cannot be violated whether or not anyone else in the room has the remotest idea what the situation really is.... No matter what happens, it will, then, always remain secret; only I know exactly the weight and force
of the covenants I have made--I and the Lord with whom I have made them--unless I choose to reveal them. If I do not, then they are secret and sacred no matter what others may say or do. Anyone who would reveal these things has not understood them, and therefore that person has not given them away. You cannot reveal what you do not know!"

I hope that my friends or family, if they have questions about the temple or the Mormon religion, that they will come to me, that they would ask me about such things, rather than rely on the sensationalist media.

Here's a video the Church has prepared about why Mormons build temples.

I go to the temple because for me it is like climbing a mountain, as Moses did in days of old, to be closer to my God. There, I am removed from the world--its cares, its sorrows, its day-to-day stresses. I go there because I love my Heavenly Father, and I want to hear His voice. Sometimes I need to escape the din of my regular life so I can listen more carefully. The temple, like that ancient mountain-top, is where I am sure to hear Him.

The Temple Is A Sacred Place

2009-03-10T09:20:00.005-07:00

A scheduled Big Love episode is sparking heated debate amongst Mormons and non-Mormons.

Big Love, a show featuring a contemporary polygamist family, will entertain its viewers with a ceremony that is sacred to Mormons. Specifically, they intend to show an endowment session inside a temple.

Last night I watched a news clip in which a woman said perfectly what I feel--there is plenty of information to be found on the Internet about the temple and what goes on there. The temple ceremonies are not secret--they are sacred.

Recently we had the opportunity to take our boys to the Draper temple open house. Charlie didn't want to go. He had to get dressed up in his suit on a Friday afternoon when he would have preferred to stay home and play with his friends.

By the time we had finished walking through the Celestial Room and through to a sealing room, Charlie was saying that this was the best day of his life and he wished that he didn't ever have to leave. The temple is a sacred place, but you have to have an open heart and a willingness to be touched by the Spirit.

I love the temple and it saddens me that the things that I hold most sacred in this life will be twisted and mocked by its' television portrayal. How do I know that such will be the case despite the producer's efforts to the subject with respect?

Because the temple and what goes on there cannot be taken out of context. Gospel study, and an education by the spirit are necessary education for one's attendance in the temple. It is not a place to intellectualize. It is a place to feel.

What goes on inside the temple walls is not secret--you can find the details blasted across a number of web sites. What you will likely not find there is the meaning, the true depth of significance that such ceremonies hold for a faithful Latter Day Saint.

The Church issued a statement regarding the upcoming episode of Big Love. As ever, they handle it with class and aplomb. I have much respect and admiration for the leaders of the Church and the example they set for us.

I am grateful that my children had the opportunity to attend a temple open house and that they felt the very special feeling that can only be found there. I wish that everyone who has an interest or curiosity in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and their temples, would have such an opportunity.

Furthermore, if you have any questions about the Mormons, get your answers from the source, rather than relying on those biased Internet sites. We have the answers you seek--you only need to ask.

This Is Me?

2009-03-09T13:48:00.002-07:00

You Are Brave and Cheeky

When You Are Comfortable:

You are a strong person. You're driven and assertive. Success is yours, as much as you want it.

People find you to be clever and spirited. You're a bit saucy too... delightfully so!

When You Are At Your Best:

You are a hard worker. You need security and stability in your life, even if that means putting in long hours.

People see you as solid and dependable. You are always able to see the good in situations. Other find this comforting.

When You Are in a Social Setting:

You are a carefree, adventurous person. You love excitement, and you enjoy being in a changing, dynamic environment.

People find you to be funny, generous, and competent. You're well spoken, and you know how to wow people with your words.

What Do Your Initials Say About You?

I really like the 'brave and cheeky' part. :)

I'd like to think this is how people see me. and I LOVE the part about being able to WOW people with my words. Neat!

Thoughtful Thursday ~ We Surround Them

2009-03-05T09:59:00.002-07:00

Next Friday, Glenn Beck is kicking off an event he calls We Surround Them. Over the past several weeks--months, and years actually, if you consider what he has been talking about for that long--Glenn has been talking about the principles and values of American society.

The media in general would have us believe that we, as conservative Americans, are in the minority. Glenn hopes to show that that is simply not true. We Surround Them is an opportunity for people to make their voices heard--not singly, but unitedly.

Glenn says that if you believe in even just seven of the following nine principles, then you are one of US.

I am not ashamed to admit that I am a conservative and that I believe in all nine of the principles listed below. My family has submitted our photo. We want our voice to be heard. We will be attending the We Surround Them kick-off party. We will be heard.

How about you? Can you agree with at least of these nine principles? Do you want your voice to be heard? Follow the links below, if you want to surround them, too.

1. America is good.

2. I believe in God and He is the Center of my Life.

3. I must always try to be a more honest person than I was yesterday.

4. The family is sacred. My spouse and I are the ultimate authority, not the government.

5. If you break the law you pay the penalty. Justice is blind and no one is above it.

6. I have a right to life, liberty and pursuit of happiness, but there is no guarantee of equal results.

7. I work hard for what I have and I will share it with who I want to. Government cannot force me to be charitable.

8. It is not un-American for me to disagree with authority or to share my personal opinion.

9. The government works for me. I do not answer to them, they answer to me.

For more information on We Surround Them, please go here.

The Facebook Fenomenon

2009-03-03T10:46:00.002-07:00

Facebook is fast becoming the favorite place for friends on the 'net.

I remember when it first started and it was the My Space wannabe for old farts. Now, both young and old hang out there, finding friends, being friends and staying connected.

I've heard some really despise Facebook. But I'm not one of them. True, I often can't think of a creative way to say what Ali is, but still ... I like it anyway.

I like that it has allowed me to be more connected with my friends and family. I know what's going on in their lives better now, than I did. That's pretty darn sad, isn't it? That you can live in the same neighborhood as friends and still have to look on Facebook to see what's going on with your friends.

Still, I'm grateful for Facebook because at least I can know what's going on, more than I did before.

And nowadays, even the young folks are on Facebook too so it's a friendly place for everyone, old and young.

OK, so I tried to be clever by writing lots of f-words but as you can see I mostly gave up after the first few lines, lol. Oh well, can't blame a girl for trying ;)

Thoughtful Thursday ~ A Love Letter To Myself

2009-02-26T11:15:00.001-07:00

Those of you who FLY may have already seen this, but I thought it was worth sharing.

Here is an email I got from Flylady.com this week:

This week's Style Mission should you choose to accept it is: Showing

yourself some love!

How? By writing a "love" letter to yourself! Don't we all need a hug
every now and then - and who better to give it than YOU?

Make a list of what you love about yourself. Instead of beating yourself
up about your perceived imperfections- let's turn the tables and look
ourselves in mirror and write down the GOOD things!

Appreciate your curves, your nose, your natural hair color, your
forearms or even your delicate hands or fingernails. Doesn't matter what
you love just be sure to list them. Maybe others have commented on your
pretty eyes? Write that down too!

Of course our insides are pretty good (strong virtues, morals, kindness
to others, etc). However this exercise is to concentrate on your outer
parts and when done, will lead to an improved self-image.

Keep your "love letter" about your best parts in your "style file" to
refer to when you need a pat on the back!

Love,

Leslie MSP

Dear Sunny,

I'm writing you this letter because I think you are way hard on yourself and I just love you. I thought you ought to know.

I hear you say--way too often--how fat and ugly you are. How disgusted you are with yourself. How you've let yourself down.

Do you really not see how beautiful you are?

You are always smiling, and your smile reaches your eyes. I love how your eyes sparkle when you smile. Never mind those little wrinkles or crinkles that are showing up in the corners of your eyes--they don't make you look old, they make you look happy. And you are beautiful when you're happy.

I know you wish your body looked different. But you know? It's okay. You are still beautiful. Look at David, he still wants you. Why can you not want yourself? You're worth it, you know. Worth your own love. So many others offer it to you freely--we all just wish you could love yourself like we love you.

It doesn't really matter if you've got more fat on you than you ought to have. It doesn't change the things that are beautiful about you.

Your smile, your eyes, your hair which when you do it sleek and straight is silky soft and shines in the sun.

You are a pretty girl, and your spirit is beautiful. When you let all that yucky stuff fall by the wayside, your spirit gets a chance to shine through and that's when you truly glow.

I just wish you could let the happiness that lives inside of you shine more for others to see. If you did, no one would even notice the extra weight you're carrying--they'll only see a girl with a smile that reaches her eyes, a girl who's sincere and kind, and they will like you.

I like you. Scratch that. I love you.

Won't you love yourself too?

Big hugs,

So, if you were to write a love letter to yourself, looking at the physical things about you, as Miss Smarty Pants recommends, what would you say?

Book Review ~ Peeps by Scot Westerfeld

2009-02-25T12:48:00.000-07:00

Peeps / Parasite Positive by Scott Westerfeld

My review

rating: 3 of 5 stars
I love Scot Westerfeld's books. A twist on the age-old vampire story, Peeps didn't thrill me quite as much as others of his books that I've read.

I think the thing that I disliked most, was that the story itself was really short - not a lot of meat to it. Every other chapter was a biology lesson of sorts on parasites. So, you only got the storyline every other chapter.

But the main character's voice was really strong and likable, so it was still an enjoyable book.

View all my reviews.

Book Review ~ The Brass Dragon Codex

2009-02-22T16:15:00.002-07:00

I am a huge fan of Anne McCaffrey and her Harper Hall Trilogy, so I've pretty much avoided all other dragon books--I mean, who could compete with her?

So that's my excuse why I haven't previously read any of R.D. Henham's Dragon books (The Dragon Codices.)

But, I had the opportunity to read The Brass Dragon Codex, and I now feel suitably repentant as to say, this was a darn good book and I will happily read the others and any new books Henham cooks up.

The Brass Dragon Codex tells the story of a lonely and talkative Brass Dragon who befriends a rather egocentric gnome. The unlikely pair turn out to be good for each other though and they both learn a lot from their friendship.

There is a subtle moral to the story: To have good friends, you must first BE a good friend.

My eight year old son snagged this book from me and finished it before I did. He said he loved it, and he's an astute reader. I believed him that it was good--but I have to add my hearty hurrah to his. The Brass Dragon Codex is a truly enjoyable book. It was a fast and friendly read, enjoyable for both me and my son.

If you love dragons as much as I do, love a good story with the thrill of adventure, then you'll love R.D. Henham's Brass Dragon Codex.

You can click here to buy it from Amazon.com

Enjoy!

Thoughtful Thursday ~ Find Your Joy

2009-02-19T10:42:00.002-07:00

What is it that truly brings you joy?

True joy is not found at the store, in a brand new wardrobe, in great sex, in limitless power. True joy comes in unlimited supply--where do you find yours?

Look to your family. If you open your heart to them, you will find they are a constant source of wonder, love, and yes, joy.

Look to service. If you open your heart to others and give of yourself, you will find your own heart filled to overflowing and you will have joy.

Know where you can turn for your unlimited supply of joy. Make sure that it is a true renewable resource, because in the days ahead you will need to be able to turn to that supply again and again in order to face what is to come in your life.

Remember, being joyful does not necessarily mean you are free from the cares of the world. Rather it is a sense of satisfaction that radiates through all you think and feel making everything more bearable. Joy can fill your heart, grant you peace, help you see the good in the world around you.

I find my joy in my children. Sometimes, just to let go of my inner inhibitions and laugh with them, laugh and laugh until we barely remember what we are laughing about--that's true joy for me. Or the hug that lasts over long and you have the sensation that it might be your last, because tomorrow this boy might no longer think it's cool to hug his mom. Or the moment you see your child stand up for the rights of another and you know they have been listening to you all along.

I find joy in my God. I screw up on a daily basis, some days worse than others. What a relief it is for me to fall onto my knees at the end of the day and know that not only does He know me better than I even know myself, He still loves me. With His help, I can right my wrongs, turn my weaknesses into strengths, and find joy where once there was sorrow.

I find joy in being true to myself. As I'm discovering more and more about myself, it is wonderful to know that I can finally--sometimes--accept me for me and simply, well, be. There is real peace and joy in that for me.

So look at your world, look at your heart. Where do you find joy?

Book Review ~ Lemon Tart by Josi Kilpack

2009-02-16T13:48:00.003-07:00

I loved Josi Kilpack's Lemon Tart. It was a fun and fast read, totally enjoyable from start to finish.

Kilpack managed to bring to life a whole cast of colorful characters and even while the main character was a goody-two-shoes busybody, she managed to make me really like her and route for her the whole way. I'm excited there's a new culinary mystery in the works featuring Sadie Hoffmiller, because she's just awesome.

Lemon Tart tells the story of a murdered young mother, a missing baby, an adulterous man, a pair of completely opposite detectives and Sadie Hoffmiller, the neighborhood's resident baker AND busybody. With so many balls up in the air, I wondered how Kilpack was going to put it all back together again, but she did and it was amazing.

The only reason why I didn't give the book five stars is because it was a LIGHT read. I reserve my fifth star for those books that really make me THINK and change me somehow. But sometimes, you just need a great book that you can sit down with and not worry about it churning up your soul, ya know?

Lemon Tart is just such a book. Grab a blankie, curl up by the fire and crack open Lemon Tart for an evening of fun and relaxation. And don't forget your favorite treat! Lemon Tart will have you drooling and maybe throwing off your blankie so you can go bake up one of it's handful of included recipes. They sound delish!

I Love . . . Love

2009-02-14T14:58:00.001-07:00

What would this world be, truly, without love?

I Love . . . Laughter

2009-02-13T10:19:00.006-07:00

I don't laugh nearly enough, but man, when I do? What a sight.

I like the kind of laughter that makes you have to cross your legs, and, like a sneeze, you can't keep your eyes open. Fluid leaks out of all sorts of places ;) You snort. You try to breathe, only to have another wave of laughter crash over you again.

The last time I really laughed like that was when my sister and I met in New York City for a four day vacation. We had never done anything like that before and with both of us being rather serious, neither of us knew what to expect.

Who knew we'd barely want to leave our tiny dingy hotel room because the entertainment within it's walls was better than anything New York had to offer!

My husband can sometimes make me laugh like that. Well, not quite, but it'll do.

Last week I went into our bedroom to fold some laundry and found my hubby tucked under the sheets having a 'nap'. Uh huh.

The way he had the blankets pulled up to his neck made me suspicious, so I peeked under the covers. There I found a slinky lingerie and a note that said,

"Slip this on and then snuggle up to me. Let's see what happens."

Well, I laughed. Laughed and laughed and laughed.

But, really? How could I turn him down after that? Laughter is the finest form of foreplay, in my book.

My sister says that I regularly deny my true nature. She says I take after my mom who was silly at her best. And it's true, when I let my expectations go and allow myself to just BE, what I find is that I'm just as silly as my mom.

I love to dance around and sing silly songs in my silliest voice.

I love to tickle. (But don't you dare tickle me!)

I love, love, love to laugh.

In my opinion, laughter truly is the best medicine. The trick is to prescribe hearty doses for yourself each and every day. You can't take too much of this stuff.

Thoughtful Thursday ~ I Love . . . Friends

2009-02-12T11:46:00.005-07:00

"A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words."

This quote is perhaps my favorite of all time. It expresses, so simply, what I believe to be true about good friends, true friends.

One time I heard a psychiatrist say that friends made online were not true friends. That people who made such friends were loners, afraid or incapable of making friends in the real world.

Well, in my humble opinion, that is just hogwash.

I have a couple of online groups of friends.

There are the twin moms, some of whom I've been friends with since before I conceived my boys. We met in an IVF chat room, and went on to share the ups and downs of twin mommyhood in a twin mommy group. I've been friends with these women for close to nine years. I've met many of them in person. I've spoken to many on the phone. They have been there for me when I needed them in the way that really matters--they cared, they were there, they loved me.

There are the writer friends who support my nearest and dearest dreams. They've read my work and taken the time to help me grow as a writer. I've also met many of them in person, and started a critique group with some of them.

And I do, too, have friends in real life, but, they don't negate the need that these other groups of friends fill for me. Real life is so demanding, hectic, harried. It's becoming increasingly difficult to maintain fulfilling friendships outside of the box on my desk.

While I am deeply grateful for my real life friends--because laughter only really happens with them, the good belly-laugh kind of laugh and not the LOL kind of mental laughter that happens online--I am equally grateful for my online friends.

My online friends have the ability to fit between the cracks of my life. They are 'there' for me any time of day, wherever I am.

Personally, I think online friendships have helped me to be a better friend to my real life friends, have helped me to learn more about myself and to grow as a human being.

What do you think? Are online friendships just as important or meaningful as real life ones?

I Love . . . Being

2009-02-11T11:19:00.003-07:00

I'm going off of my list here. I've realized over the last several days of love posts that all of my loves seem to have a theme. I love most those things that have come at a price.

The more I struggled, the more I appreciated the love I received.

I am so thankful for the love I have in my life. For the freedom I enjoy. For my life. For being.

When I was a little girl I saw new and different worlds all around me. The ice crystals that formed in the canal housed tiny crystalline beings. The clouds held angels that sang and danced among their steppes and gullies. Those worlds filled me with wonder.

But the truth is, it is this life that holds wonder beyond my imaginings. Life is precious. Life is vibrant and real and full of possibilities. Just the act of dreaming can fill me with such hope and amazement.

Life is all around us. It is in the stars that brighten a dark night, in the shimmers of sunlight on a puddle on the sidewalk. It is in the laughter of our children and the gentle touch of a lover. Life vibrates and hums all around us, in us, through us.

What a wonderful gift . . . to be.

I Love . . . Music

2009-02-10T10:27:00.003-07:00

When I was in middle and high school, I was known as the girl who could sing.

On field trips, the kids would ask me to sing--they would crowd around my bus bench and listen while I sang to them. Funny thing is, I didn't sing Gloria Estefan or Sheena Easton music. Not even Pat Benatar. I sang the oldies, like Unchained Melody and Somewhere Over The Rainbow.

People would ask me to sing on the bleachers watching football practice, on the walk home from school, in the cafeteria. It was my thing.

I used to sing to my mom, too.

When she lay dying, she would very often ask me to sing to her. Or she wouldn't, and singing was the only thing I could do for her. One day, in a brief moment of lucidity she told me to never let my music go. So after she died, I auditioned for, and was accepted into the music program at Acadia University in Wolfville, Nova Scotia.

Except, into my second year at the school, my vocal performance professor told me I had absolutely no talent and I should quit singing altogether.

And, despite all the evidence to the contrary, I believed her. And I quit.

I didn't sing at all after that. Not in the shower, not around my apartment, not even the hymns at church. After all, I couldn't sing.

It was not until several years later when I found myself regularly driving by the Opera House in Boise, Idaho that I began to suspect that professor had been wrong. There was a sign advertising an open call for chorus auditions for the opera company, and a little insistent voice in the back of my mind kept noodling at me to go for it.

When I mentioned it to David, he of course strongly encouraged me to go for it, because he had long disagreed with the professor who had dashed my dreams.

As fate would have it, I not only was accepted into the chorus, but I went on to study with the principle voice coach with the opera company and I eventually held principle roles at the company.

After one particularly powerful performance, I had a crowd of audience members waiting to greet me. One woman had tears streaming down her face and she took my hand in hers.

"You have the voice of an angel," she told me. "Thank you, for singing." I struggled to hold my own tears back as I threw my arms around her.

"Thank you," I said. And what I meant, but I'm sure she couldn't have known, was, "Thank you for listening, for hearing me. Thank you for loving what I do. Thank you."

When I stood on a stage, the music swelling around me, I felt like I held my heart in my hands and held it out, trembling, for the whole audience to see. But as the music carried me away, I let it carry my heart to the rafters, beyond, I let the music carry me.

I have never felt so free, so completely alive, so utterly me, as when I have stood on a stage, offering my heart and soul in the music I sang.

Music is God's gift to us. It lifts us, frees us. It allows us to connect to emotions that are too painful, too precious, to be easily accessible otherwise. Music is a prayer, a wish. Music is love.

I Love . . . Heather

2009-02-09T12:03:00.003-07:00

My sister and I have had a roller-coaster relationship.

When I was first born, I was like the cupie-doll prize you won at the fair. I was exactly what Heather had hoped and wished for--a little doll she could dress up and care for, love and cherish. Something that could be hers in this house full of boys.

Except I was more boy than girl, I didn't like to wear dresses, preferring instead the matchbook cars my brothers brought me to my sisters' barbie dolls.

And then we swung the other way when I adored and worshipped all things Heather (who was eight years older than me and a very cool teenager when I was old enough to realize that that was, well, very cool) and would go into her room without permission, would follow her around everywhere, eavesdrop on her phone conversations and just generally pester her to death.

When I was about twelve years old, and Heather twenty, I told her that I f-in hated her sometimes. And she went told our mother on me.

That was pretty much the end of that.

I couldn't trust her. She couldn't trust me. We agreed, without so much as saying so, that we hated each other.

Until my mom came down with dying and suddenly our world collapsed in on itself and we found ourselves folded up together with no escape.

Heather realized a little of the hell I'd been living in the last four years when she had judged me as purely a selfish brat of a teenager. When in fact, I was simply into survival.

When Mom's dying became a reality and not just a hypothetical, Heather and I found ourselves doing a daily intricate dance in which our roles soon became rote and we were able to fill them as well as any Ginger Rogers or Lucille Bremer.

Where I was weak, she was strong.

Where she was weak, I was strong.

And it turned out that not only was I the little sister my sister had always dreamed of, she was the big sister I had always wanted.

What grew out of that terrible time, was not only a sisterhood, but a friendship that has been forged in sorrow but strengthend by the simple passage of time.

Heather is my bulwark against the storm. She is my lighthouse in a turbulent sea. She loves me in spite of me. She loves me because I am me.

She is . . . my friend.

I Love . . . Writing & Reading

2009-02-07T15:57:00.005-07:00

Picture-Writing
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

In those days said Hiawatha,
"Lo! how all things fade and perish!
From the memory of the old men
Pass away the great traditions,
The achievements of the warriors,
The adventures of the hunters,
All the wisdom of the Medas,
All the craft of the Wabenos,
All the marvellous dreams and visions
Of the Jossakeeds, the Prophets!
"Great men die and are forgotten,
Wise men speak; their words of wisdom
Perish in the ears that hear them,
Do not reach the generations
That, as yet unborn, are waiting
In the great, mysterious darkness
Of the speechless days that shall be!
"On the grave-posts of our fathers
Are no signs, no figures painted;
Who are in those graves we know not,
Only know they are our fathers.
Of what kith they are and kindred,
From what old, ancestral Totem,
Be it Eagle, Bear, or Beaver,
They descended, this we know not,
Only know they are our fathers.
"Face to face we speak together,
But we cannot speak when absent,
Cannot send our voices from us
To the friends that dwell afar off;
Cannot send a secret message,
But the bearer learns our secret,
May pervert it, may betray it,
May reveal it unto others."
Thus said Hiawatha, walking
In the solitary forest,
Pondering, musing in the forest,
On the welfare of his people.
From his pouch he took his colors,
Took his paints of different colors,
On the smooth bark of a birch-tree
Painted many shapes and figures,
Wonderful and mystic figures,
And each figure had a meaning,
Each some word or thought suggested.
Gitche Manito the Mighty,
He, the Master of Life, was painted
As an egg, with points projecting
To the four winds of the heavens.
Everywhere is the Great Spirit,
Was the meaning of this symbol.
Gitche Manito the Mighty,
He the dreadful Spirit of Evil,
As a serpent was depicted,
As Kenabeek, the great serpent.
Very crafty, very cunning,
Is the creeping Spirit of Evil,
Was the meaning of this symbol.
Life and Death he drew as circles,
Life was white, but Death was darkened;
Sun and moon and stars he painted,
Man and beast, and fish and reptile,
Forests, mountains, lakes, and rivers.
For the earth he drew a straight line,
For the sky a bow above it;
White the space between for daytime,
Filled with little stars for night-time;
On the left a point for sunrise,
On the right a point for sunset,
On the top a point for noontide,
And for rain and cloudy weather
Waving lines descending from it.

Footprints pointing towards a wigwam
Were a sign of invitation,
Were a sign of guests assembling;
Bloody hands with palms uplifted
Were a symbol of destruction,
Were a hostile sign and symbol.
All these things did Hiawatha
Show unto his wondering people,
And interpreted their meaning,
And he said: "Behold, your grave-posts
Have no mark, no sign, nor symbol,
Go and paint them all with figures;
Each one with its household symbol,
With its own ancestral Totem;
So that those who follow after
May distinguish them and know them."
And they painted on the grave-posts
On the graves yet unforgotten,
Each his own ancestral Totem,
Each the symbol of his household;
Figures of the Bear and Reindeer,
Of the Turtle, Crane, and Beaver,
Each inverted as a token
That the owner was departed,
That the chief who bore the symbol
Lay beneath in dust and ashes.
And the Jossakeeds, the Prophets,
The Wabenos, the Magicians,
And the Medicine-men, the Medas,
Painted upon bark and deer-skin
Figures for the songs they chanted,
For each song a separate symbol,
Figures mystical and awful,
Figures strange and brightly colored;
And each figure had its meaning,
Each some magic song suggested.
The Great Spirit, the Creator,
Flashing light through all the heaven;
The Great Serpent, the Kenabeek,
With his bloody crest erected,
Creeping, looking into heaven;
In the sky the sun, that listens,
And the moon eclipsed and dying;
Owl and eagle, crane and hen-hawk,
And the cormorant, bird of magic;
Headless men, that walk the heavens,
Bodies lying pierced with arrows,
Bloody hands of death uplifted,
Flags on graves, and great war-captains
Grasping both the earth and heaven!
Such as these the shapes they painted
On the birch-bark and the deer-skin;
Songs of war and songs of hunting,
Songs of medicine and of magic,
All were written in these figures,
For each figure had its meaning,
Each its separate song recorded.
Nor forgotten was the Love-Song,
The most subtle of all medicines,
The most potent spell of magic,
Dangerous more than war or hunting!
Thus the Love-Song was recorded,
Symbol and interpretation.
First a human figure standing,
Painted in the brightest scarlet;
`T Is the lover, the musician,
And the meaning is, "My painting
Makes me powerful over others."
Then the figure seated, singing,
Playing on a drum of magic,
And the interpretation, "Listen!
`T Is my voice you hear, my singing!"
Then the same red figure seated
In the shelter of a wigwam,
And the meaning of the symbol,
"I will come and sit beside you
In the mystery of my passion!"
Then two figures, man and woman,
Standing hand in hand together
With their hands so clasped together
That they seemed in one united,
And the words thus represented
Are, "I see your heart within you,
And your cheeks are red with blushes!"
Next the maiden on an island,
In the centre of an Island;
And the song this shape suggested
Was, "Though you were at a distance,
Were upon some far-off island,
Such the spell I cast upon you,
Such the magic power of passion,
I could straightway draw you to me!"
Then the figure of the maiden
Sleeping, and the lover near her,
Whispering to her in her slumbers,
Saying, "Though you were far from me
In the land of Sleep and Silence,
Still the voice of love would reach you!"
And the last of all the figures
Was a heart within a circle,
Drawn within a magic circle;
And the image had this meaning:
"Naked lies your heart before me,
To your naked heart I whisper!"
Thus it was that Hiawatha,
In his wisdom, taught the people
All the mysteries of painting,
All the art of Picture-Writing,
On the smooth bark of the birch-tree,
On the white skin of the reindeer,
On the grave-posts of the village.

I Love . . . Charlie

2009-02-06T10:48:00.005-07:00

Yeah, I realize that almost all my 'love-you's' are people, and that that's not so interesting, perhaps, to everyone else, but, it's what I love--the people in my life.

When I became pregnant with twins, it was a miracle. And then when I carried them to 35 weeks, that was an even greater miracle.

The whole time they were in my belly, Baby B moved around regularly, busily kicking and bouncing from side to side. It was easy to find his heartbeat on the monitor, it was easy to feel connected to him.

Baby A, however, found his spot in my tummy and stayed there, only moving his little hands and feet, but never changing his position, for at least two months. It was difficult to find his heartbeat on the monitor and because he rarely moved, I rarely felt him, rarely knew he was even there except for the pressure his head caused as it was pressed against my cervix for two-plus months.

Even though his Apgar score was 9:9 (excellent), it was standard procedure for twins to be rushed to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) for observation. His brother, Baby B, had much lower Apgar scores, so from the beginning I worried more for Baby B.

After a brief introduction to them, both babies were whisked away, and much to my surprise, it was Baby B who was brought to my room later that day. Baby A, it turned out, was having difficulty breathing on his own and was now ensconced in an isolette in the NICU.

Baby B was doing so well, he was allowed to room-in with me and we bonded instantly. Baby A, remained a mystery to me.

Baby A was not brought to me at all in my room. He was connected to too many monitors and tubes to be moved. I was not able to just pop down to see him whenever I wanted because I needed to be wheeled in a chair.

I couldn't see him. Or, I didn't want to see him.

I let everyone believe it was the former, but in truth, it was in large part the latter that I did not see Baby A for three days.

When I did finally go see him, he was a stranger to me. He was nearly naked, so tiny and scrawny, his little hat pulled down over his eyes, so many tubes and wires strung around him like a mutant child that had grown strange spider legs. I didn't really want to hold him, but after some convincing by an angel, I did.

Once I had overcome that first fear, that early resistance to this child I didn't know, I embraced him and had a hard time letting him go when it was time to go to my room. My husband gave him a blessing and it came to us that his name should be called Charles. He had a name now. No longer a stranger, he belonged to me.

But a day later, Baby B and I were released. Because we could not take a well-baby into the NICU with us, for a week afterward I was only able to see Charlie once a day. Meanwhile, Baby B (who still didn't have a name) were bonding and growing in love for one another.

When it came time to pick Charlie up from the hospital, I was hesitant and nervous. Once again, he felt like a stranger. We had to learn how to remove and replace the Gavage tube that was his source of nourishment because he could not suckle sufficiently on his own. We had to learn how to do CPR on him in case he stopped breathing. I was terrified I couldn't properly care for him. He was breakable. He was vulnerable. I was not a perfect mother. And I was so afraid I couldn't do it.

It took another angel, this time my sister, to help me reconnect with Charlie. She came from Nova Scotia to help me care for the babies, and happened to arrive just the day before Charlie came home. I had been home for a week carrying for one baby, but I was really afraid of what it would be like once Charlie came home and there were suddenly two.

After that, things got better between me and Charlie, but the truth is, I never felt as connected to him, as I did to Baby B--who we named Alexander and called Xander for short.

I held this truth in my heart like a dirty secret. No mother should have favorites--we all knew that. And yet, I didn' t feel as natural or as comfortable with Charlie, and I feared what it said about me.

me and charlie at about one month old

As Charlie grew, the distance between us remained. I did everything I could to hide it, to pretend, but I can't kid myself into thinking it wasn't there.

Charlie developed behaviors that only added to the distance between us. He favored his dad. He didn't like to be snuggled by me, and any other number of small little things that compounded the lack of closeness.

I have often prayed for him, and for myself, that we could come to love one another. That the boy inside him could shine. I received many promptings that have helped me bridge the gap between us, but still . . . he was so, so far away.

That is, until this year.

As you know, I've been homeschooling the boys this year. I don't know why or how the changes have happened, but it seems that our love has taken on a Superman persona and has managed to leap over tall buildings in a single bound. There is no distance between us now. I believe he knows that I love him.

And, with the deepest gratitude, I know that I love him too.

It has been a long journey for us, but like all battles hard fought, the victory is all the more sweet. Now when I hold him--when he lets me hold him--I cherish the moment, I drink it in. This is my boy. And my love for him has finally been sufficient to fill the chasm between us.

And miracle of miracles . . . he loves me too.

Thoughtful Thursday ~ I Love . . . My Family

2009-02-05T11:29:00.002-07:00

For some people, to say that you love your family is a given, a non-sequitur. But for me, it's a loaded statement full of forgiveness, time, patience, understanding and an abundance of love.

Because I not only love the little family I have created with my husband, but I love the family I grew up in, warts and all. And let me tell you, we had lots of warts.

From the beginning, I was not wanted.

My mom wanted an abortion, but my father wouldn't approve. So she had me anyway.

By the time I was four years old, my dad had left and my mom was stuck with me.

I am the baby by many years. My closest sibling is my sister who is eight years older than me. I have three brothers older than her. I was locked in closets for hours at a time and hung by my feet from a second-story window. All of my barbie dolls met untimely deaths by firecrackers or sledge hammers or motorcycle tires.

And yet, I love my family.

My mom and I grew into a sort of dynamic duo. Classic co-dependency, I'm sure, but still . . . I loved her. I love her still.

Many, many years later, the family is at loose ends. There is no father or mother anymore to keep us together. Too many differences in opinion, time and life experiences separate us, like a giant chasm even Evel Knievel would think twice about jumping.

And yet, during a crisis this past Christmas, a few of us came together, to help, to lift, to encourage, to love. Isn't that, after all, what families are for?

My brother knew to whom he could turn when the chips were down--his family. We didn't question that we would be there for him--we just were.

Families come in all shapes and sizes. There is not a one of them that is perfect, despite what we might think, or how they might appear. Every family holds heartache like a trembling bird in their cupped hands. The best of families manage to heal that bird and rejoice when they watch it fly away. The worst of families might have a different sort of image.

But most families are just fumbling along, doing their best, hanging in. That injured bird? Well, it might be one of them, one of us, and we would never abandon it. We might not know how to help it, but we will try. And we will never forgive ourselves if we fail.

That's what families do. And that counts for something, doesn't it?

What do you think?

I Love . . . Karate!

2009-02-04T11:12:00.004-07:00

I've been a little serious, so I thought it was time to mix things up. On the count of three-- ready?

Now, breathe in, one, two, three . . .

Then breathe out, one, two, three.

There, feel better now? I know I do!

But the truth is, I truly love karate.

It takes me out of my comfort zone each and every time. It pushes me beyond what I think I can do. It empowers me.

All that and kick-butt workout, too. Literally and figuratively, lol.

When I was around nine years old, I took Judo for a while. It was so hard that naturally, I wanted to quit. My mom, a single, older mom, naturally let me quit. She was far beyond arguing with me over activities I didn't want to do.

"It's your life," she'd say to me whenever I wanted to do something she didn't approve of. Including quitting dance, piano, girl guides, and yes, even skipping school.

As a grown up, I've had to work hard to undo this life lesson that my mom taught--that you could quit whenever the going got tough. Because, of course you and I know as adults, that you can't sluff the hard stuff.

Karate represents this un-learning that I am doing. Every time I show up in my GI, I've won. I'm a winner every single time.

But if I work hard, kick a little higher, ki-ai a little louder, or remember my form, then I've won again. So the whole class is a series of challenges and each time I have the opportunity to be a winner. I come out on top, each and every time.

What's not to love about that?

Ai-yah!

I Love . . . Sam

2009-02-03T10:22:00.003-07:00

Before David and I were ever married, we each had dreams in which we saw our future family. Now, you may or may not believe such a thing is possible, but when we compared notes and discovered they were exactly the same, we became convinced that the dream in fact represented the children that would come to us.

There were five of them. A boy first, separated somehow. By his age certainly, because he seemed to be about five years older than the rest of the children; but also by something else that we couldn't identify. He was beautiful and charming. A wonderful boy.

Then there were two boys, very close in age.

Then a girl and then, another girl who we've kind of always referred to as an 'optional' girl. We felt perhaps we might adopt her or something, somehow, she was a choice.

We had intended to wait to have our children, but when the prompting came to begin, we began in earnest. What followed was a heart wrenching five years during which we miscarried four times.

And then one day on a long drive, we felt it. A strong and unmistakable impression that the son we had been waiting for had been born.

So we began our search for our boy.

Finally, nearly four years later, we found him.

Sam.

He was three and a half years old and had been living in foster care his whole life. He was absolutely and unmistakably our son and we felt so blessed.

Sam came to live with us and a year later our adoption was final and we were sealed in the temple. Now we would be together, a family, forever.

Sam was not in real life, as we had felt he would be.

He was beautiful and charming, to be sure. But he was also broken, bruised and forever changed on the inside.

We couldn't save him.

We had all the love in the world for this boy and yet, it was not enough.

When Sam did something that we couldn't protect him from; when the State stepped in and forced our hand to make a choice, we chose. Many people believe we made the wrong choice. Perhaps we did.

But I can tell you that the choice we made was out of love for Sam. We love him. I love him. I wanted him to have the chance to grow up in a family, with a mother who could love him, who had experience raising up boys with similar problems as Sam. My other option was to place him in a nearby institution where he would be raised with other boys like himself and with

medications to subdue his more violent tendencies.

We chose a family for him. But in doing so, we have lost him forever. He lives somewhere else now, far from us. We never see him, nor speak to him. It's been five years. He has another family now, a mother who loves him, brothers and sisters who 'get' him and, I hope, love him.

Beside my bed I keep a little box--a Chinese dream box. You are supposed to write down your dreams, put them in them in the box and they will come true.

When Sam was a little boy he found a rock in the shape of a heart. He gave it to me. It is that rock that I keep in my dream box.

My hope is that one day, Sam's heart will soften and will no longer be made of stone.

There is not a day that goes by that I don't feel love for Sam. He is, and forever will be, my boy. And I love him.

I Love . . . My Husband

2009-02-02T11:14:00.003-07:00

I am constantly amazed at the man who is my husband.

I am amazed that he is my husband. That he chose me, that he loves me, that he loves me still, despite everything.

Sometimes when he says he loves me, I'll ask "Even though?" He always smiles, kisses me a little longer, a little deeper and replies, "Even though."

David is kind, generous, sympathetic and caring. He truly cares about other people and worries over their well being. He always assumes the best of people, including me.

David is tender, loving and romantic. On my birthdays he always comes up with a theme and spoils me rotten. Not only with gifts but with his time and attention.

My man is quiet and unassuming, but he is the greatest friend to have on your side. The most tender sweetheart and attentive lover.

I Love . . . My Savior

2009-02-01T08:00:00.000-07:00

He found me when I was lost.

He is always there for me.

He forgave me when I sinned.

He forgives me still.

He comforted me when I was sorrowing.

His comfort still enwraps me.

He blessed me.

He blesses me still.

He rejoiced with me.

His joy is my rejoicing.

I love my Savior.

And He loves me.

Thoughtful Thursday ~ Find Your Love

2009-01-29T11:30:00.002-07:00

“Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you” (Matt 5:43-44.)

Love.

Each of us has an unlimited supply of love stored up in our hearts and souls. And yet, we rarely spend it. We are too thrifty with our love. Like the megalomaniac who spends his days acquiring more and more money and possessions and yet can’t bring himself to spend any of it.

We mustn’t be like that with our love.

Love is a divine trust given to us at birth. It’s only caveat: You must spend it.

It is wonderful to love your family, to cherish each one and shower your affection upon them. And yet, it is not enough.

Love your friends, be a good friend. Be there for them, serve them, love them. And yet, you must do more.

Love the stranger you see at the grocery store or in the car next to you at the red light. Love them. Smile at them. Help them. And yet, there is more.

Love the neighbor, ward member or business acquaintance who has just offended you. Accept the bad, but don’t keep it. Let it go, and love. Then, love some more.

Love yourself. Despite all your shortcomings, despite all the many ways you let yourself down day by day, despite all the things you should have done. Love yourself.

The gift of Love works unlike any bank account on earth. It begins maxxed out, filled to the brim, ready to be spent. But unlike our earthly accounts, this account is perpetually refilling. Spend the love you’ve been granted, and it will multiply and grow, filling your account time and again with yet more love to be spent.

In Church this past week, we had a lesson on becoming one as a church, being united as a people. I’ve never before understood how that could really work—just the practicality of it was beyond my understanding. But during the lesson I began to see how we as a people can be more united, like a couple in marriage is united.

In marriage, you give your love, your care, and your understanding to your companion. You put their needs and wishes before your own. You think of them and what would please them, make them happy, feel loved, and you strive to do those things.

Becoming one as a people, is not unlike becoming one in your marriage. If we truly love and care for our fellow man, we will be united in purpose for the betterment of all.

But you have to be willing to love, because that is the key that unlocks your unselfish desires. You must first spend it, give it freely, willingly, uncensored and without expectations, and you will find that you will receive more than enough to sustain you, to lift you and to cheer you.

Find your love. And then, give it away.

If you would like to post on Finding Your Voice on your own blog, feel free to add your blog address to Mr. Linky here so we know where to find you. Thanks for participating!

Feminism, Mormonism and Optimism

2009-01-26T17:03:00.003-07:00

When did I become so closed-minded?

Or, rather, when did I cross the aisle and begin to fight for the enemy?

When I was a university student I was all about sexual equality. I could do anything a man could do and do it better, even (sing with me now folks "anything you can do, I can do better!"). I planned to not only have a kick-butt career but to kick feminine stereotypes too.

Oh, I thought I *might* one day have a child - but only one, and even then just for the experience of it. Just to say "I did it" and then because I was a modern feminist woman, right? I can do it all. I can have it all.

I had some issues with the whole men-only priesthood thing when the missionaries first introduced me to the Church. How could I really belong to a church that wouldn't allow women to be leaders? To be spiritual leaders? I was just as spiritual as any man, any day. Maybe even more so.

And I was supposed to just be a mother?

Uh, I think not.

But then, I had a change of heart.

A spiritual experience that rocked my world and changed the way I saw myself. Just like that. Like lightning from a cloudless sky my perception of my role, of who I was, of who I was to become, shifted.

Yesterday I was called as to be a Den Leader for the Cub Scouts. I was so, darn happy to get this calling. I had envisioned any number of callings I might receive all of which I was less-than-thrilled about. However, I had determined to go in with an open mind and open heart and accept whatever it was I was called to do.

So when they said Den Leader, I was elated for a number of reasons.

It's a much easier calling than all the ones I'd conjured up in my head in the days leading up to my call.
I get to be with my boys and I kind of like them, so I'm okay with that.
I get to serve with another gal in my ward who I really like.
The time commitment is a lot less demanding than the YW calling I had last.
I don't have to be in charge of anything which is something I had feared a bit.
I like scouting and think it's a great program that my boys are lucky to be able to participate in.
And probably a bunch more reasons that I'm too lazy to think of right now.

When I got home from church late yesterday afternoon, I immediately googled "Den Leader Cub Scouts LDS" in hopes of finding some info on what the calling entailed. The first link that came up was to this blog post at Feminist Mormon Housewives.

At the time I read it, there were 113 comments. I only skimmed them, but from what I could see they were all but one responses of people agreeing with the blogger's point of view which was basically that scouting within the Church was a bad idea and they hated the calling.

Since then I haven't been able to get that blog out of my mind. I've been stewing on it, rolling it over in my head, and generally noodling on the whole idea of feminist Mormon housewives.

The original housewife herself said the name was an oxymoron and she like it that way. Her intent in beginning the blog was to provide an outlet for other women like herself to be Mormon, a housewife, while also being liberal and self-proclaimed feminist.

See now, this is where I realize that I am not the girl I once was. I used to call myself feminist. Now it tastes like a bad word in my mouth.

From a girl who ridiculed motherhood and valued it for naught, I have become a woman who embraces it with my whole heart. I no longer have any qualms at all at being a mother rather than a priesthood holder. I don't know that these Housewives do either, I'm just sayin'.

For me, and this is where my judgemental self is going to peek out of her closet for a second, I would say that I think women who still call themselves feminist are not fully converted to the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Ok, I need to qualify that. A feminist is simply one who considers herself, as a woman, equal to any man. And I think any LDS woman can get behind that. We know we are created equal. However, I think feminism has come to mean a whole 'nother thing. And honestly to read the various blog entries of the women at Feminist Mormon Housewives, I think they belong more to that other camp, the one I used to be a member of too, before I, well, saw the light.

When I commented on that den leader post about how I was looking forward to my new calling and I felt sad that this woman was serving in a calling she hated, one of the bloggers on the site called me 'holier than thou'. If having a little optimism, seeing hope in a new situation and hoping all that I work with are expecting the best for themselves too, is 'holier than thou' than I don't know how to be a latter day saint, I guess.

Isn't that what we're supposed to do? Move forward in faith? Expect the best, from ourselves and others around us? This experience has taught me a sad lesson: that not everyone out there is happy doing what they are doing in the church. I thought, perhaps naively, that most people serve willingly and happily in the church. Oh sure, I've had callings that have worn me out, that I haven't been able to get the hang of and that I hope never to have again. But if I were called to one of them again? I would accept, and then get right onto my knees.

Now, if that makes me holier than you, I'm not sure what to say.

For me, it just means that I know better than to think I can do anything in this big, bad world without the help of my Father in Heaven. I am just learning and stumbling and fumbling my way through and hoping for the best . . . always hoping for the best.

I am still a feminist, and personally, I think I got the better deal, this whole motherhood thing versus the priesthood. Who wouldn't curl their toes in happiness in response to their children's shouts of sheer joy at the prospect of spending more time with you?

I am a Mormon, and it has changed me profoundly. I am so much better for it.

And, I am an optimist.

Call me crazy, kooky or stuck up, but happiness is where you find it . . . and that my friends, if wherever you choose to look for it.

Photo Tag

2009-01-24T10:51:00.005-07:00

Tristi, tagged me in a game of Photo Tag.

You go to your pictures directory, into your sixth folder and pick your sixth picture.

In my case, the sixth folder happened to be an Adobe folder of samples, so I went to my seventh. Hope ya'll don't think that's cheating.

As it was, I didn't get a very funny, exciting, titillating or otherwise. But it IS of two people I love a ton:

This is Chelsea and Kenny. I set them up on their first date (a blind date, oh horror!) and they got married eight months later! Sweet!

I did their engagement pictures for them and this was one of them before I cropped and edited it.

They are such a cute couple. Kenny adores her. They just had their first baby, Benjamin, in November.

Thoughtful Thursday ~ What Do You Value?

2009-01-22T10:39:00.001-07:00

What do you value most?

Is it money? Recognition? Family? Love?

Hyrum W. Smith, author of What Matters Most—The Power of Living Your Values said, “Your governing values are the foundation of personal fulfillment.”

In other words, those things you most value will define the sort of person you are, what you do and what you say.

You might assume that because you value something that it governs your daily actions, but that is not always the case.

The loving, doting father is arrested for sexually abusing his daughter’s friend. He lived a good life in every other respect. He did was what right for his family . . . except in this one thing. But it is a contradictory thing that has the power to take down everything he otherwise believes in.

Or, in a more benign example, the loving mother who has just counseled her daughter to remember the value she has a human being and not just as a sexual object, takes a pill to help her keep her spirits up, even though none has been prescribed.

It is elemental that we discover for ourselves what it is that we value. Find it, focus on it, and work at it.

“And Jesus knew their thoughts, and said unto them, Every kingdom divided against itself is brought to desolation; and every city or house divided against itself shall not stand” (Matthew 12:25.)

I had always taken this scripture in a more literal context. But in considering it today, I realize that Jesus knows our very thoughts. We cannot act one way while our thoughts dictate another. It won’t be long before we crumble under the weight of such confliction.

Figure out the sort of person you need to be to reach your values. Then be that person at home, at work; with your friends and with your family.

Let your actions stand for what you believe, for the values you hold dear.

For me, I value family. I want to be with my family forever. If I’m to take to heart Matthew’s counsel, then I will recognize that there can be no room for being snarky to my children, being weary of them, or cussing at them. I will devote my care and attention to those things that will work for the good of the family and to the building up of the little spirits, and the big ones, that encapsulate it.

I need to live as a woman who is part of a family.

I value love. I want to feel loved, give love, be loved. I can’t then turn off my heart when it’s least convenient for me. When a friend needs me, or a child, or my spouse, I can’t save for later what needs to be given now. My love needs to be free and ready; available at a moment’s notice.

I need to live as a woman who is love.

I would love to hear what your values are, and how you perceive them when wearing the different hats you wear.

You are free to post your comment here, but I also invite you to post your own thoughts on this subject at your own blog. If you do, let Mr. Linky here know, so we can all go see what you’ve written.

Books, Books, And More Books

2009-01-21T14:38:00.003-07:00

I stole this little meme from Jen's blog. Have fun!

In April 2003 the BBC's Big Read began the search for the nation's best-loved novel, and they asked us to nominate our favorite books.

The ones I've read are in bold, the one's I want to read are in italics. The rest? Well, maybe someday. If you like--copy and paste this list to your blog and share what you have read!

1. The Lord of the Rings, JRR Tolkien
2. Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen
3. His Dark Materials, Philip Pullman
4. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams
5. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, JK Rowling
6. To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee
7. Winnie the Pooh, AA Milne
8. Nineteen Eighty-Four, George Orwell
9. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, CS Lewis
10. Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë
11. Catch-22, Joseph Heller
12. Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë
13. Birdsong, Sebastian Faulks
14. Rebecca, Daphne du Maurier
15. The Catcher in the Rye, JD Salinger
16. The Wind in the Willows, Kenneth Grahame
17. Great Expectations, Charles Dickens
18. Little Women, Louisa May Alcott
19. Captain Corelli's Mandolin, Louis de Bernieres
20. War and Peace, Leo Tolstoy
21. Gone with the Wind, Margaret Mitchell
22. Harry Potter And The Philosopher's Stone, JK Rowling
23. Harry Potter And The Chamber Of Secrets, JK Rowling
24. Harry Potter And The Prisoner Of Azkaban, JK Rowling
25. The Hobbit, JRR Tolkien
26. Tess Of The D'Urbervilles, Thomas Hardy
27. Middlemarch, George Eliot
28. A Prayer For Owen Meany, John Irving
29. The Grapes Of Wrath, John Steinbeck
30. Alice's Adventures In Wonderland, Lewis Carroll
31. The Story Of Tracy Beaker, Jacqueline Wilson
32. One Hundred Years Of Solitude, Gabriel García Márquez
33. The Pillars Of The Earth, Ken Follett
34. David Copperfield, Charles Dickens
35. Charlie And The Chocolate Factory, Roald Dahl
36. Treasure Island, Robert Louis Stevenson
37. A Town Like Alice, Nevil Shute
38. Persuasion, Jane Austen
39. Dune, Frank Herbert
40. Emma, Jane Austen
41. Anne Of Green Gables, LM Montgomery
42. Watership Down, Richard Adams
43. The Great Gatsby, F Scott Fitzgerald
44. The Count Of Monte Cristo, Alexandre Dumas
45. Brideshead Revisited, Evelyn Waugh
46. Animal Farm, George Orwell
47. A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens
48. Far From The Madding Crowd, Thomas Hardy
49. Goodnight Mister Tom, Michelle Magorian
50. The Shell Seekers, Rosamunde Pilcher
51. The Secret Garden, Frances Hodgson Burnett
52. Of Mice And Men, John Steinbeck
53. The Stand, Stephen King
54. Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy
55. A Suitable Boy, Vikram Seth
56. The BFG, Roald Dahl
57. Swallows And Amazons, Arthur Ransome
58. Black Beauty, Anna Sewell
59. Artemis Fowl, Eoin Colfer
60. Crime And Punishment, Fyodor Dostoyevsky
61. Noughts And Crosses, Malorie Blackman
62. Memoirs Of A Geisha, Arthur Golden
63. A Tale Of Two Cities, Charles Dickens
64. The Thorn Birds, Colleen McCollough
65. Mort, Terry Pratchett
66. The Magic Faraway Tree, Enid Blyton
67. The Magus, John Fowles
68. Good Omens, Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman
69. Guards! Guards!, Terry Pratchett
70. Lord Of The Flies, William Golding
71. Perfume, Patrick Süskind
72. The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists, Robert Tressell
73. Night Watch, Terry Pratchett
74. Matilda, Roald Dahl
75. Bridget Jones's Diary, Helen Fielding
76. The Secret History, Donna Tartt
77. The Woman In White, Wilkie Collins
78. Ulysses, James Joyce
79. Bleak House, Charles Dickens
80. Double Act, Jacqueline Wilson
81. The Twits, Roald Dahl
82. I Capture The Castle, Dodie Smith
83. Holes, Louis Sachar
84. Gormenghast, Mervyn Peake
85. The God Of Small Things, Arundhati Roy
86. Vicky Angel, Jacqueline Wilson
87. Brave New World, Aldous Huxley
88. Cold Comfort Farm, Stella Gibbons
89. Magician, Raymond E Feist
90. On The Road, Jack Kerouac
91. The Godfather, Mario Puzo
92. The Clan Of The Cave Bear, Jean M Auel
93. The Colour Of Magic, Terry Pratchett
94. The Alchemist, Paulo Coelho
95. Katherine, Anya Seton
96. Kane And Abel, Jeffrey Archer
97. Love In The Time Of Cholera, Gabriel García Márquez
98. Girls In Love, Jacqueline Wilson
99. The Princess Diaries, Meg Cabot
100. Midnight's Children, Salman Rushdie
101. Three Men In A Boat, Jerome K. Jerome
102. Small Gods, Terry Pratchett
103. The Beach, Alex Garland
104. Dracula, Bram Stoker
105. Point Blanc, Anthony Horowitz
106. The Pickwick Papers, Charles Dickens
107. Stormbreaker, Anthony Horowitz
108. The Wasp Factory, Iain Banks
109. The Day Of The Jackal, Frederick Forsyth
110. The Illustrated Mum, Jacqueline Wilson
111. Jude The Obscure, Thomas Hardy
112. The Secret Diary Of Adrian Mole Aged 13¾, Sue Townsend
113. The Cruel Sea, Nicholas Monsarrat
114. Les Misérables, Victor Hugo
115. The Mayor Of Casterbridge, Thomas Hardy
116. The Dare Game, Jacqueline Wilson
117. Bad Girls, Jacqueline Wilson
118. The Picture Of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde
119. Shogun, James Clavell
120. The Day Of The Triffids, John Wyndham
121. Lola Rose, Jacqueline Wilson
122. Vanity Fair, William Makepeace Thackeray
123. The Forsyte Saga, John Galsworthy
124. House Of Leaves, Mark Z. Danielewski
125. The Poisonwood Bible, Barbara Kingsolver
126. Reaper Man, Terry Pratchett
127. Angus, Thongs And Full-Frontal Snogging, Louise Rennison
128. The Hound Of The Baskervilles, Arthur Conan Doyle
129. Possession, A. S. Byatt
130. The Master And Margarita, Mikhail Bulgakov
131. The Handmaid's Tale, Margaret Atwood
132. Danny The Champion Of The World, Roald Dahl
133. East Of Eden, John Steinbeck
134. George's Marvellous Medicine, Roald Dahl
135. Wyrd Sisters, Terry Pratchett
136. The Color Purple, Alice Walker
137. Hogfather, Terry Pratchett
138. The Thirty-Nine Steps, John Buchan
139. Girls In Tears, Jacqueline Wilson
140. Sleepovers, Jacqueline Wilson
141. All Quiet On The Western Front, Erich Maria Remarque
142. Behind The Scenes At The Museum, Kate Atkinson
143. High Fidelity, Nick Hornby
144. It, Stephen King
145. James And The Giant Peach, Roald Dahl
146. The Green Mile, Stephen King
147. Papillon, Henri Charriere
148. Men At Arms, Terry Pratchett
149. Master And Commander, Patrick O'Brian
150. Skeleton Key, Anthony Horowitz
151. Soul Music, Terry Pratchett
152. Thief Of Time, Terry Pratchett
153. The Fifth Elephant, Terry Pratchett
154. Atonement, Ian McEwan
155. Secrets, Jacqueline Wilson
156. The Silver Sword, Ian Serraillier
157. One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest, Ken Kesey
158. Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad
159. Kim, Rudyard Kipling
160. Cross Stitch, Diana Gabaldon
161. Moby Dick, Herman Melville
162. River God, Wilbur Smith
163. Sunset Song, Lewis Grassic Gibbon
164. The Shipping News, Annie Proulx
165. The World According To Garp, John Irving
166. Lorna Doone, R. D. Blackmore
167. Girls Out Late, Jacqueline Wilson
168. The Far Pavilions, M. M. Kaye
169. The Witches, Roald Dahl
170. Charlotte's Web, E. B. White
171. Frankenstein, Mary Shelley
172. They Used To Play On Grass, Terry Venables and Gordon Williams
173. The Old Man And The Sea, Ernest Hemingway
174. The Name Of The Rose, Umberto Eco
175. Sophie's World, Jostein Gaarder
176. Dustbin Baby, Jacqueline Wilson
177. Fantastic Mr Fox, Roald Dahl
178. Lolita, Vladimir Nabokov
179. Jonathan Livingstone Seagull, Richard Bach
180. The Little Prince, Antoine De Saint-Exupery
181. The Suitcase Kid, Jacqueline Wilson
182. Oliver Twist, Charles Dickens
183. The Power Of One, Bryce Courtenay
184. Silas Marner, George Eliot
185. American Psycho, Bret Easton Ellis
186. The Diary Of A Nobody, George and Weedon Grossmith
187. Trainspotting, Irvine Welsh
188. Goosebumps, R. L. Stine
189. Heidi, Johanna Spyri
190. Sons And Lovers, D. H. Lawrence Life of Lawrence
191. The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Milan Kundera
192. Man And Boy, Tony Parsons
193. The Truth, Terry Pratchett
194. The War Of The Worlds, H. G. Wells
195. The Horse Whisperer, Nicholas Evans
196. A Fine Balance, Rohinton Mistry
197. Witches Abroad, Terry Pratchett
198. The Once And Future King, T. H. White
199. The Very Hungry Caterpillar, Eric Carle
200. Flowers In The Attic, Virginia Andrews

Life In A Modern Town

2009-01-20T13:37:00.004-07:00

My friend Anne, participated in this tag on her blog and I thought I'd play too. I'm not going to tag anyone, either, but the questions are interesting, so if you'd like, feel free to use them for inspiration for your own blog.

What was school like when you were little?

I remember feeling like school was free and easy, fun and interesting. I had teachers who challenged me, who believed in me (that is, after my Kindergarten teacher who, along with the school principle, began the process of having me institutionalized. Amazingly, my mother picked up my cause and went to bat for me. Needless to say, I was never sent to an institution). But after that, I liked the teachers and remember being treated well and having a lot of fun with my friends at recess. I still vividly remember certain school lessons from grade 4 and 5, they had that much impact on me.

What was a memorable experience from your childhood? How did you feel about it?

When I was fifteen, my mom rented a camp spot in Grand Bend, a popular vacation spot southern Ontario, Canada, about an hour from our home in London. There was a beach, a lake that stretched so far that it looked like the ocean—you couldn’t see any shore at all. Grand Bend also had a quaint little beach town, Canada’s version of a small California town, I think. Little shops sold beach gear and clothing, boutiques sold Indian arts and crafts from local reservations. And teenagers roamed the streets like packs of dogs. It was awesome.

For my birthday, she took me there and we had a party at our campsite. We went there every weekend for the whole summer and didn’t have to set up and take down our tent trailer every time. We just jumped into our car on Friday after mom got off work and headed out of town.

We drove a carmel colored Ford Cordoba with general Corinthian leather (thank you Manuel Esteban). It featured a high-tech 8-track stereo, which my mom had a large collection for. We listened to “Rockin’ Robin” and “Hang Down Your Head, Tom Brody,” with the volume up loud. I remember sticking my head out the window and bobbing up and down as my mom and sang along as loud as we could.

Those memories, melded into one, have become my single-most favorite memory of my childhood, and conversely, memory of my mother. That was the moment, that we were truly happy, truly free.

What has changed since your childhood about your local or national community?

This is difficult for me to answer as I haven’t lived in the communities of my childhood since I was nineteen years old. I no longer even live in the same country.

But I suppose some generalities will be the same: Like the freedom we (those of us in our middle years) had as children to roam far and wide in our towns. I lived in a ‘sleeper community’ of Toronto, and then in the major city of London. In both places I was free to ride my bike as far and as wide as I had the energy to go. I rarely went with friends, favoring instead wandering adventures on my own.

It makes me sad to think that I believe my generation was truly the last to have such freedom. Even as a teenager I was aware that times had changed. I turned my color up to hide my face from the view of the older man sitting on the bench at the bus stop. I steered away from strangers on the bus, preferring to sit by myself. Even then, there were the beginnings of whisperings that strangers were not safe, that children were not safe. Still, they were secrets, not generally accepted. We still tried to live in the worlds of our childhood.

Unfortunately that world has completely gone now, those secrets are common knowledge and we can no longer pretend that our children are safe. Sadly, I think this change has overtaken all towns and cities, the world over.

I wonder if we’ll ever get that innocence back. I think, probably not.

Just a General Update :)

2009-01-19T09:13:00.002-07:00

It's been a long time since I've posted about just regular ol' life stuff, so I thought I'd bore you with the trivial details of my life, because, of course, I know you're dying to know what's going on with me. Right? Yeah, you know you want it.

So, David just left for a long trip to Worcester, MA. That's pronounced "Whoost-ah" for all you non-Massacheutians (or whatever it is they call themselves.)

Our roof needs to be replaced.

Charlie is loving karate for the first time ever and it is just so dang cool! I believed that if we stuck with it and didn't let him quit, that he'd find his stride and come to like it but ... maybe I didn't believe enough, because I've still been pleasantly surprised and happy at the result!

Xan is loving karate, as usual, and was invited to try out for, and was accepted into, the schools' demonstration team. It means a lot more time at the studio, but it's all good. I'm super proud of him.

And I haven't missed a single karate class of my own since the beginning of the year! Huzzah! I rock.

However, I have hardly been writing at all. I've been feeling ambivalent about my writing and doubting my abilities, my stories ... everything. For the first time in two years I don't have anything immediately ready for submission to the LDStorymaker's first chapter contest. I won for YA last year and the year before I placed second. This year? I might not even have the chance to 'place' at all since I might not even enter! I can't let that happen. I've GOT to get writing again.

I've just been so full of self-doubt and second-guessing and stuff. It's yucky.

I'm still homeschooling the boys and it's going really super great! And yes, I'm rather amazed that I am saying that and that it's TRUE! I even said the words out loud to my husband this week "I think I'll homeschool them again next year." I held my breath after I said it, waiting to feel that feeling that tells me no, that's the wrong decision, but ... I didn't. Instead the words rang with truth and rightness. My husband just bobbed his head and said that he just assumed I would.

Because really, it's going that well.

Charlie is a completely changed boy. Xander is reading and learning at the speed of light. The love and feeling of solidarity in our home has grown ten-fold, nay, a hundred fold. Huzzah!

And even though David has to travel a lot (about two weeks out of every month, it seems) he really loves his job and the people he works with and for. That is gold, right there. We're all looking forward to reconnecting tonight, and every night while he's away, on our online game Wizard 101. Xan said when we play together it's like Daddy isn't far away at all, and that is a really neat thing.

And there you have it ... a wee little update from my home to yours. Have a great day!

Thoughtful Thursday ~ Find Your Weakness

2009-01-15T11:28:00.007-07:00

“I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them” (Ether 12:27).

Have you ever considered that your greatest weakness, could actually become your greatest strength?

Close your eyes for a moment and think about your weaknesses. How could they become your strengths? Do you believe it’s possible for them to become your strengths? What do you believe might need to happen in order for that to be so?

For me, I think at this moment in my life, my greatest weakness is my lack of faith in myself. I have been doing a bang-up job of beating myself up for the last several months. I am too fat. I am not smart enough. I am not a good friend. I am not a good writer. I am not a good photographer. I have no willpower. I am not … anything very good at all.

I do believe that all these things could become my strengths.

I could believe in myself. If I were not too fat (or didn’t think that I was) I might have more courage to speak up and meet new people; I might play with my children more.

If I knew I was smart enough, I might be able to enroll in that Masters program I’ve been looking at and go out in the world helping others.

If I were a good friend, I would never hesitate to call or visit someone who came to my mind, because I would feel I was worthy of being their friend.

If I knew I was a good writer, I might actually finish something and keep submitting it to editors and agents until it found a home.

If I believed I was a good photographer, I might not have given up my business and I might have a source of extra income and the opportunity to meet and serve new people.

If I had the willpower to do all these things I could be strong. I could be powerful.

When Joseph Smith was in Liberty Jail, the Lord counseled him:

“All these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good.

“And then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high; thou shalt triumph over all thy foes” (D&C 121:7–8).

Because my lack of self-esteem, is my foe. It is the adversary I battle every day. It is the exact opposite of the nature I was meant to develop here on earth. I do not believe that God sent me here to be weak, and hide my light under a bushel, so to speak.

He sent me here to shine.

God tries us in this life, He challenges us. But if we endure it well, and learn to make our weaknesses our strengths, we will be “prepared to receive the glory that I have for them” (D&C 136:31).

But I don’t believe that the glory He has for us is meant to be enjoyed solely in the Courts on High. If we can overcome our weaknesses in this life, glory can be ours today, here and now.

Don’t ignore your weakness. Make your weakness into your strength.

What are your weaknesses? How can you make them your strengths? And what would it mean to you, if your weakness did become your strength?

You are welcome to comment here, but please feel free to share your thoughts on your own blog and put your info into Mr. Linky here, so I can link directly to your blog.

Do Unto Yourself As You Do Unto Others

2009-01-13T13:06:00.002-07:00

Why is it that many of us are quick to see the good in others, and yet refuse to see the good in ourselves?

I've been thinking a lot about body image lately. I've been very aware of the chubby girls and women I've seen and yes, I've been comparing them to myself. I can easily see how one girl dresses really fun and funky and I love that. I see how another has a great hair cut, or beautiful eyes.

I do not judge them for their chubbiness.

In fact, I admire them because of it. They are beautiful and letting their lights shine even though they might not have the ideal body.

Why is it, then, that I can extend this same courtesy of judgement to them, but not to myself?

The same applies to how I keep my house, or how I fulfill my callings, or ... you name it.

I am very hard on myself. I've always known that I'm a perfectionist and that it's super hard to live up to my own expectations of myself. And yet, I can see where others have made choices, allowing certain elements of their lives to slip a little while concentrating on something else of greater importance. I can admire them for that choice, I can understand it.

And yet, again, I do not extend that same courtesy to myself.

For me, well, I must be perfect. I am not allowed to have a chubby body, I am not allowed to have a less than perfectly cared-for home - you get the picture.

And the irony is that I am so far from perfect, it's not like I'm simply trying to maintain the high standard I have achieved. No, but I am beating myself up for not achieving the high standard I believe I must attain in order to be ... what? Loved? Admired? Respected?

Is it not possible that someone else has seen me and thought "She has such a pretty smile," rather than thinking "She should really do something about her weight." Is it not possible that someone has come into my home and rather than thinking "She should really do some more decorating in here," they thought "What a nice feeling this home has"?

This has been a bit of an epiphany for me. I think I've had it before, and I will likely have it again, but for now it feels fresh and new. I should try to treat myself the way I treat other people.

I should be kind, helpful, forgiving, loving. I should think the best of myself, even when I've fallen short of expectations.

Just a thought . . .

Thoughtful Thursday ~ Find Yourself

2009-01-08T12:07:00.006-07:00

Sometime in November I was listening to the Glenn Beck show when he spoke on several things we should do to personally be prepared for what is to come. Not so much as physically prepared as spiritually, personally, prepared.

I want to talk about his suggestions, but will probably do so a little at a time because I don't have a lot of time to devote to writing my blog and, if you're anything like me, I prefer shorter posts to longer ones because I often don't have much time to READ blogs, either :)

Glenn said that we need to find ourselves. He said,

"Who are you really? What do you believe? Have you been pushed and challenged? Do you know where you stand? Can you support it with real facts?"

I am honestly not sure if I can answer those questions suscinctly. If someone asked me, I'm sure I would humm and haw until all interest in my answer had passed. So let's see if I can tighten it up, and figure out my answers for myself.

I would like to challenge you to answer these questions, as they come, on your own blog, and/or in my comment trail.

Who am I?

I am a Daughter of God. Knowing that shapes everything else I am. I am a Wife, a Mother, a Friend. I am a person who believes the best in others, but rarely of myself. Conversely, I believe in my ability to do what needs to be done, or to be successful at new things I try, and yet somehow I feel that I am an impostor.

I believe that through strengthening the line of communication between myself and my Father in Heaven, I can come to live, and be, as a Daughter of God all the time, so that I can answer, without qualification, that I AM my Father's Daughter.

What do I believe?

I believe that we are all created equal bey a loving Father in Heaven who watches over us and wishes the best for us. I believe He loves me, that He loves you.

Have I been pushed and challenged?

Yes, I believe I have. From an abusive childhood, a long fall from grace as a young adult and a long climb back to forgiveness and redemption, to the loss of babies, to probably my greatest challenge of all - my experience raising Sam and my consequent decision to find him another home in which to live.

I have been challenged.

Do I know where I stand?

I believe I do, but I think I need to work on strengthening my position. I stand for Truth and Righteousness. If I feel that neither of those virtues are being served, I will stand and fight for them - I think.

I'm not sure how I can strengthen my position on where I stand. Wait, I do. I will bear my testimony at every opportunity - every time I do that, I will strengthen my position and become even more firm in my beliefs and in my position.

Can I support my position with real facts?

In addition to bearing my testimony, which builds my inner strength, I must read, listen and research to build my knowledge and again, to strengthen my position. The scriptures, words of the prophets and the words of contemporary reporters who I feel I can trust, I will build and strengthen my position with facts and truth.

There is so much for me to do, so many ways yet that I can grow. I am grateful for the opportunity I have in this life to do just that. I won't take it for granted.

So how about you? Who are you?
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David Bowman ~ Artist

2009-01-02T10:38:00.005-07:00

David Bowman: has had a passion for art ever since he could pick up a pencil. He loves creating images of the Savior that inspire and uplift. Along with his Christian fine art, David has also written and illustrated a series of scripture storybooks for children titled "Who's Your Hero". Check out his website at www.bowman-art.com to see more of his precious art.

"Innocence"
The Savior tells us we need to become as little children to inherit the kingdom of God. I've often wondered what it is about little children Jesus loves most, and I think its their innocence. They are clean slates, seeing the world and others through untarnished eyes. Their hearts are pure, without the baggage of cynicism and self-doubt. In this piece, I've tried to imagine how a child would act upon meeting the Master for the first time. Without reservation or inhibition, I think he would simply want to play with Him. He would be at complete ease, allowing his pure little heart to soak in the love and laughter of His pure, infinite heart. Its no wonder Christ delights in these little ones and sets them up to be our examples.

"Security"
One of the greatest human needs is a sense of security. In all aspects of life, we naturally gravitate towards anything that makes us feel safe. In this piece, I wanted to convey a sense of complete peace and calm like only the Savior can provide. It's a security that allows us to rest assured, without fear or worry, when we put ourselves trustingly in His arms. Little children have that inherent kind of trust in their parents, so it's fitting that the man and girl who modeled for "Security" are actually father and daughter. They generated
the exact feel I was looking for.

"My Child"
This piece conveys an intimate, up-close-and-personal feeling of the Savior's love. Notice how all the lines draw your attention and point towards Jesus' face in the center. I chose the name "My Child" because the only thing that could compare (even remotely) to Christ's compassion for us is the love of a parent for his/her child. This image is also intended to put things in perspective. Above all, we are God's children first. He allows us the privelege of experiencing parenthood for ourselves and we are entrusted to be the mothers and fathers of His children here on earth.

Forgiveness, Perfectionism and The New Year

2009-01-01T17:19:00.004-07:00

I'm a fan of Flylady and today she sent out an email that I found particularly poignant for me.

Do you ever look back on your life, on the last year, and have regrets? Flylady says that "regrets are just perfectionism in hindsight."

That was a bit of an 'a-ha' moment for me. Mainly because as soon as I read it, I recognized the bells of truth clanging in my head.

I am a perfectionist. It took me a long time to realize that I was a perfectionist, because I wasn't perfect at anything! I thought perfectionists were those women with the lovely, perfectly decorated, white-glove clean homes. I didn't think perfectionists every looked like me.

But, apparently, they do.

Flylady also says that grudges are another form of perfectionism because they arise when we aren't treated the way we think we ought to be treated. Having just spent the last few days nursing a grudge against my sweetheart (which I've already let go of and sought forgiveness for) this one hit a nerve.

And Flylady offers a cure.

Forgiveness

We ask others to forgive us for holding grudges against them - for expecting them to live up to the unbelievably high pinnacle we can't reach ourselves. But have you thought about forgiving yourself?

Forgive yourself for expecting too much of yourself. Forgive yourself for beating yourself up when you turn out to be ... ta da! ... only human.

Flylady counsels us to laugh every day, even if it's at ourselves. We are, never have been, nor will we ever be, perfect. So laugh, forgive, and be at peace. Flylady even has an affirmation for us: "One baby step at a time, peace is mine in 2009."

So can I do it? Can I forgive myself for my shortcomings, my weaknesses, my imperfection? Can I laugh at myself, and learn to love myself, not just in spite of all of my yuck, but maybe even because of it? Because my shortcomings are part of what makes me, me, right?

My shortcomings highlight my strengths and bring gratitude into my life. I'm grateful for what I can do, what I am good at, even though there's so much I would like to be better at. I'm grateful for my shortcomings because they cause me to reach out for help, and my life is more rich because of the good people who help me out and lift me up.

And if you didn't have your own shortcomings, there might not be any way for me to serve you, to be your friend, and that would be a real loss for me.

So, yeah. I have a lot of things I'd like to do better in 2009. But, I'm not going to beat myself up for what I failed to do, or didn't do well, in 2008. I do love myself, and I will practice forgiving myself of always expecting too much of myself and of others. I like Flylady's affirmation, so I'm going to make it my own this year.

My baby steps include getting a hold of my home and all my to-do's, using the flylady system; getting my two completed works-in-progress tidied up and ready for readers and then submission. Others, too. Homeschool. Church stuff. But I'm not going to list them all, because I just want to be better, not perfect. Right?

Ask, And Ye Shall Receive

2008-12-19T23:31:00.004-07:00

The other day I sounded a bit like a petulant child who, on the eve of Christmas, complains that she never gets what she wants. I haven't ever grown up, not really. I'm still the spoiled, whiney little girl I was.

However, as a grown up, I can appreciate the irony when the very next day I open my presents and find that very thing I was most hoping for. Umm ... thanks? And ... I'm sorry for being so whiney? I'm not sure that's enough to make up for it.

Because imagine my surprise when after begging the universe for the "Marie Antoinette" award, Stephanie over at Write Bravely (I've always loved her blog title - isn't it the best?) passed it on to me. I really appreciate this award, especially coming from Stephanie. She was one of the first writer friends I made in blog world and she's always been so kind to me. I look up to her and am touched that she would think of me for this award. Thank you Stephanie!

I do try to keep it real here. You might not appreciate the whiney nature sometimes, or the endless narratives of things that might not matter to you, or ... whatever ... but it's me. I am me, nothing more, nothing less.

This is my journal, and it's pretty much stream-of-consciousness kind of journalling, but it is REAL, whatever else it is not. However, a few of you seem to not mind too much my mindless drivel, and I thank you. I do appreciate you, all of you, who take the time to stop by, to read, and sometimes to comment. It always helps, whatever my topic of the day, to know I'm not alone in this big ol' world, but that sometimes what I say strikes a chord with someone else and for a moment we connect. I live for that connection and think it's the most amazing thing the Internet has to offer. So thank you, all of you, for being here, for stayin' real right along with me.

I would like to pass this award along to Danyelle at Queen of the Clan. Danyelle has a smile that lights up a room, but even if you hadn't ever met her in person you could tell she smiles like that just from the way she writes. She has a beauty that shines through every post and I find very word to be true to who she is and what is in her heart. Danyelle's blog is a happy place to be.

Thou Shalt Not Covet Thy Neighbor's Blog Award

2008-12-17T00:03:00.004-07:00

I admit it, there's a blog award that I really, really want. And I was super disappointed when I didn't get it. Pretty sad, eh? I just thought ... well, the award is for people who are 'keepin' it real' on their blogs and I thought I did that pretty well. Shoot. Darn. Errr.

Not that I'm sorry the worthy people who got it, well, got it. 'Cause they're totally real. And I love their blogs. And it's all cool. It's just that, dang, I want that award!

But, I did have a moment of shame when I realized that I hadn't, in fact, been entirely honest.

I started up that new blog Food Fights and Binges Bite, and I told you not to come. I hid my identity on that other blog because I was ashamed of what I was saying about myself. I didn't want to be REAL.

So, I'm comin' clean. I am who I am. I created that other blog because I didn't want to keep dragging you guys on my weight loss/weight gain roller coaster, and because there were darker feelings lurking there that are pretty heavy for the average reader. When I write that stuff, my deepest feelings, fears and stuff, there should be a "Read at your own risk" warning.

You can go there, you can read about my food fights and my binges, but I wanted to spare you the really ugly bits.

There, I came clean. I'm keepin' it REAL. Maybe now I'll get that darn award.

Gaming With Your Kids

2008-12-15T13:14:00.003-07:00

A while back I read an enlightening article about gaming with your kids in, I believe, Canadian Living Magazine. Wish I could remember the author of the article so I could give him proper credit. Anyway, the author told of an experiment he tried, where instead of cursing the presence of video games in his kids' lives, he would embrace them, he would join them.

At first he thought he was only checking out the games his kids wanted to play, but soon he found they could be fun. When his children discovered he was playing some of the games they were interested in, they were so excited. He began spending time with his boys playing video games, and the fun they shared became an addiction they could all get behind.

I talked with David about this and whether he would consider playing games with the boys. My guys like medieval-style games best of all, and I wanted to find that type of game that was online, allowing multiple players to play together.

We have finally found a great, fun, safe game that we can all play, called Wizard 101.

The boys had been playing it for about a week before David and I decided to join them. It was at the end of a school day, when I asked the boys for help in setting up my character. They flew out of their seats and ran to look over my shoulder at the computer. They helped pick my wizards' face, her clothes, her name. they were so excited, it blew my mind.

They couldn't wait to get on their own computers and start playing with me. The fellow who wrote the article mentioned how it was interesting to take the parent-turned-student role with your kids, and boy was it ever! They felt so proud to show my how to do things in this new world ... and were proud of me when I accomplished my first tasks.

Now David is out of town and last night he texted me and asked if we wanted to play with him. We all got on Wizard 101 and played a few games together. What a wonderful feeling it was, to have Dad on the other side of the country, but yet we felt like we were together.

I highly recommend that you put aside your video-game phobias and consider jumping into this wild, colorful world with your kids. Let them show you around, show you what they love, what they think is don't' like, and what they can do in their virtual world.

It will give you amazing perspective into the world your children live in, and into their very hearts and minds. You might also discover, as we did, that it provides a vehicle to bring your family closer together, despite the miles, and even the years, that may separate you.

What Is There To Talk About?

2008-12-10T12:39:00.003-07:00

You would think after not writing a proper post in four weeks that I'd be brimming with things to tell you. But now that I'm here, seeing somewhat well enough to actually write ... I, well ... I can't think of anything to say.

Hmm.

I could tell you that I'm still in my p.j.'s and it's almost 1:00 in the afternoon. And I don't even have school to blame ~ we've only managed to get about three lessons done and there's been much wailing and gnashing of teeth to even get that much done.

But that would make me look bad and I want you to be glad that I'm back, so I'm not going to tell you that.

I could tell you that my house is a mess and I've been binging a lot lately instead of cleaning it.

But again, that paints me in poor light and I want you to like me, not be disgusted with me.

I could tell you how I have all my Christmas shopping done, my home is decorated to perfection and my boys have been happily baking Christmas cookies with me to give to our neighbors, but that simply would not be the truth.

The truth is, I've been going through the motions every day, hanging in there, some days climbingin onto one of the branches of life, only to fall off the next day where I hang, swinging in the breeze for days.

At least I'm still ON the tree, right?

But seriously, things are going okay. I'm glad that my eyesight is returning. It has been unbelievably hard not to be able to read or write for four weeks. I most miss reading my scriptures. My husband was out of town last week and it drove me crazy that I could dig my teeth into a juicy novel and read, read, read while he was away.

And I was really bummed to miss Jen's Self-Esteem Carnival because I wanted to have a chance to win the book she was giving away. Now I'm gonna have to go buy it.

I've started a new blog, that I'm not sure I want to invite you to, so I'll only post it here this once and that way it'll be obscure enough to miss the attention of most people. It's a blog about my food issues and weight loss efforts. It's called Food Fights and Binges Bite. Don't go there. It's just a big ol' pitty party. At least I won't party here. No more of that. Innocents such as you do not deserve to be subjected to my insanity.

Well, some versions of my insanity, but certainly not all.

Homeschool is going well (except for today.)

All is well.

Tomorrow I will challenge myself to write something a bit more interesting. Maybe I'll go surfing and hijack someone else's good idea. *U*

I've Been Rated

2008-12-05T13:45:00.004-07:00

I'm beginning to read a bit - hurray! I get tired awfully quick and then the vision is super blurry again, but at least I can read little. So Elana had this on her blog today and I thought at least it would give me something to post without having to read too much.

I'm not too embarassed to say I only rank as a Junior High blog. Heck, I've never aspired to much fanciness here on this blog. Junior High was actually a good time for me, so ... maybe it stuck with me, grammar and all.

Where In The World Has Ali Been?

2008-12-01T11:58:00.003-07:00

Thing is, I can't see at all. Where have I been? Here. Just bored out of my mind because I can't read or write.

Can't really write here, either (can't see what I'm writing, argh.) But I thought ya'll ought to know I hadn't abandoned you.

I had PRK vision correction on November 11th and while everything seems to have gone really well, I still can't read. I hope I'll be back to my old readin' and writin' self real soon!

Stay tuned! And, thanks for your patience!

Eight Things About Me

2008-11-10T11:24:00.002-07:00

Hurray! Tristi tagged me for this little game and I'm wasting no time in getting in my answers! So here we go!

Eight Things I'm Looking Forward To:

My PRK tomorrow! I can't wait to be able to see without my glasses. I'm legally blind now, so I think it will be life changing to be able to see without glasses or contacts! Not looking forward to the painful recovery, but hey ... I think it'll be worth it!
The Primary Program on Sunday. My boys have bigger parts than they've had in the past and they are both feeling really confident and happy to participate. Can't wait to watch them!
My bathroom remodel to be complete. It should be done any day now, really. And it wasn't a big fancy remodel, but we'll have a new paint job, new floor, a new toilet and new light fixtures, so it'll feel updated. Going without a toilet on our main floor stinks!
Christmas! I love Christmas and everything about it.
Our Anniversary (17 years) on December 27th.
A little vacation we're taking with the boys to Yellowstone the first week of January. We're going to rent snowmobiles and zoom through the park. Cozy up to roasted marshmallows by the fire at night and play lots of board games. Sounds fun! Can't wait!
My book The Devil's Daughter getting published one day.
Losing Forty Pounds. I've been waiting for that for a long time and I get that's it not really something to wait for, but rather something that you go out and DO for yourself. *sigh* Guess that's why I've still not lost it!

Eight Things on My Wish List:

Umm, to lose weight? Oh yeah, I said that one already!
To be healthier.
Sewing lessons.
To really get the hang of this homeschooling thang.
A new iPod with some music (Pink, Natasha Bedingfield, Nellie Furtado)
A new camera, because both of mine have fallen victim to various acts of sabotage during the past few months.
To grow closer to Heavenly Father. I'm trying, but sometimes I get in my way.
To have see my sister again. I miss her so much!

Eight TV Shows I Like to Watch:

Smallville
Pushing Daisies
Buffy the Vampire Slayer (on DVD)
Angel (again, on DVD)
My Name is Earl
Chuck
Stargate Atlantis
Heroes

Eight Things that Happened Yesterday:

I sang in Church with three other women. It was awesome. I got to sing the descant part in the Children's Songbook version of Beautiful Savior, so for once I got to sing high and out, which I really like to do but rarely can (because I'll overpower the other singers - but not this time!)
I had several brain farts trying to put together a baby quilt for Chenny's baby. Finally after like two hours of trying, I managed to get it assembled. Oy! I was spatially challenged yesterday.
I took a nap.
I gave the FHE lesson. (On seeing a child of God when you look at yourself in the mirror. I needed it!)
I baked a cake. Yumm!
I read a couple chapters in the Book of Mormon. I've been on a reading kick lately and am so enjoying it.
I worked on Stacy's book for a while.
I got caught up on my email.

Eight People I am Tagging:

I am going to be naughty and not check out who has already been tagged and who has not. Sorry!

An Awesome Way to Organize Your Blogging Time

2008-11-06T23:18:00.003-07:00

I have a ton of blogs I like to read, plus places to visit online. For a long time I was totally overwhelmed by the blog-load and either would end up reading the same blogs all the time (at the top of my list) or not reading any at all, because how do I read one without reading them all? I'm an equal-opportunity reader, after all. Heaven forbid I should hurt someone's feelings by not stopping by their blog when I had to time read so-and-so's blog. I'm sure ya'll know what I mean.

Google Reader didn't work for me. Blog rolls didn't work for me. RSS feeds didn't work for me.

But RapSheet DOES work for me. It's still not perfect, still has stuff that needs to be fixed, still doesn't have stuff I wish it did, but for me it's awesome.

So here's what I did to organize my online reading time: I downloaded my own rapsheet. You can get your own by going here. Then I made a Monday/Wednesday/Friday sheet for those blogs that update often, a Tuesday/Thursday sheet, a Saturday sheet and a Sunday sheet. I filled up each sheet with the appropriate blogs or sites and voila! Now I can easily get my reading in and everyone's happy!

So it's Thursday today, and when I logged into my computer this morning, I clicked on my T/TH RapSheet tab and opened the first blog. Because the sheets smoothly move on to the next one, when I have another minute, I can just click on the next blog because it saves my place for me. I don't miss any blogs that way and, well, it's just plain awesome, like I said.

Check it out and let me know if it works for you too!

Put a Smile on Your Face

2008-11-05T22:24:00.003-07:00

I spent a good deal of my day today feeling down and out. I wanted to post on this auspicious occasion, the first day with Barak Obama as our President-Elect, but until now I wasn't sure what I would say.

Thankfully, I had the chance to listen to Glenn Beck today. After telling us we were not going to have a pity party on his show today, he said something very insightful.

"There was a revolution last night. It is the way America has revolutions.

We don't have them with guns. We don't have them with violence.

We have them at the voting booth, and it was a revolution last night."

He is totally right and so I will put away my frustrations over the election and fear for the future and put my shoulder to the wheel. I will prepare for the worst by making sure my home and my family are ready for what I fear might come. But I will turn my face to the sun and expect to feel its warmth.

Linguistically Challenged

2008-10-27T10:37:00.003-07:00

So, some of you may know that I'm a Canadian. I grew up in a suburb of Toronto and lived in Canada until I was twenty four years old, or so. Canadians think Americans talk funny. Of course we do everything the proper way: We speak properly, we have better manners and, truth be told, we are smarter. Don't shoot the messenger, I'm just stating the facts.

I used to think all Americans talked like they were from down south. I called them Ah-Mah-ri-cahns because of how round they made their vowels. I thought it was funny to hear them talk.

Now, when I came to the States, many people couldn't understand certain words I said. You might not think there can be a big difference between the two countries, but apparently some Americans couldn't understand what I wanted when I said "garbage" instead of "trash", "bag" instead of "sack" and "pop" instead of "soda."

But the real problem comes when I pronounce any word that has an 'ag' sound in it, for instance,bag. An American listening to me, would think I said beg. So I made a concerted effort to pronounce things more carefully, emphasizing the long a sound in the word bag.

Lately, though, I've been having a bit of a cunumdrum. For some reason, I can no longer remember how to pronounce words, and very often I find myself stuttering over a word because what comes out of my mouth does not gel with how the word sounded in my head. It's causing me a great deal of turmoil.

Who am I? How am I supposed to talk? It's a life crisis of major proportions because I nolonger instinctively know if I should sound like a Canadian or like an American. You have no idea how much difficulty this causes me.

And, the turmoil runs deeper to my long-accepted understanding that Americans talked funny but Canadians did not. For all my thinking that American's talked like they were all southerners, and maybe a little stupid, I'm finding that Canadians talk like they have a lemon in their mouths and a stick up their, ahem, you know where.

Maybe I just shouldn't talk at all. I'll take up ASL, or maybe mime.

You Can't Judge a Book By Its Cover - or a Visiting Teaching Companion

2008-10-22T20:37:00.006-07:00

Several choice seats were still available in the front row of Relief Society on a happy Sunday morning. But as I sat down, a girl I didn't know rushed up and said "Oh no, you can't sit here--I'm saving these for my friends."

Ouch. Couldn't I be a friend? Weren't we all supposed to be friends in Relief Society?

With my feelings hurt and my ire rankled, I slunk back a few rows and plunked myself down in a huff. I growled at that girl for the whole rest of class. My cup of human kindness had shattered into a thousand pieces in the kitchen sink. During that one class, over that one incident, I built up a very unhealthy dislike (read: hate) for that girl--Carol.

As luck would have it, within the week we got new visiting teaching assignments.

Guess what happened next. Can you guess? Come on, you can do it.

Sure enough. Carol and I were assigned to be visiting teaching companions.

I was so dismayed at the thought that I seriously considered asking to be reassigned.

Our first few visits were extremely strained. It seemed our dislike for one another was intense and mutual. It was difficult to go on the Lord's errand when there were so many bad feelings between the two of us. I found I couldn't contribute to the conversation when Carol taught the lesson because I was working so hard at controlling my ugly feelings for her. I hated everything she said, even the way she said it. I was in a bad, bad place. And I was pretty sure she felt the same about me.

At first I prayed that we would get reassigned. "Please, Heavenly Father, bless me with a new visiting teaching companion."

But He didn't give me what I wanted.

Instead, He began to slowly change my heart. Soon, I found that my prayersbecame pleas to help me understand Carol, to be kind to her, so that we could better bless the sisters we were entrusted with.

As I prayed that our companionship could be strenghtened for the sake of our sisters, I found my heart was softened toward Carol.

Carol, it turns out, was insecure and feeling like a fish out of water. She had moved to a new place with a young family and her husband travelled often. She was lonely.

As time passed, and my prayers to be a better companion to Carol were answered, I discovered a deep desire to be a better friend to her, as well. And she, not the horrible, awful girl I thought her to be, responded in kind.

A friendship and mutual respect grew between us as we unified ourselves to serve our sisters. Our visiting teaching visits grew in meaning and we often felt the Spirit in remarkable ways during them.

A year later, Carol was one of my truest friends, a friend for life. I had grown from this experience and learned that there is good in all things, even the hard things, if we let Heavenly Father join with us, to work with us.

In particular, He belongs on our visiting teaching visits. This is His work, afterall, and we ought to include Him when we go out.

When I felt such dislike for Carol, we had a hard time saying prayers together before we visited our sisters. But when I sought Heavenly Father's help He freely gave it.

President Thomas S. Monson said, "It is the Lord's work, and when we are on the Lord's errand, we are entitled to the Lord's help."

Had I not asked for His help in dealing with my awful visiting teaching companion, I might not have discovered how wonderful she was. She was a diamond, but I couldn't see her shining. I needed Father to clear my vision, to open my heart, so I could see her as He saw her. How much I would have lost, if I had never had Carol as my friend.

Sometimes we get difficult companion assignments. We feel it is a burden to spend time with the other person, we feel they hold us back, or there's something else about them that we feel we would be better off without. But I testify to you, that our assignments are made by divine inspiration and that very often there is a good reason why the two of you are together.

A good companionship can truly bless the sisters they are assigned to teach. But a companionship that does not strive to have the Spirit of the Lord with them, does nothing to enrich their sisters lives.

So, if you find yourself now, or sometime in the future, assigned with a companion you think you just can't stand, please, pray for her. Pray that you may come to love her. Pray to see in her what Heavenly Father sees in her. I know that He will bless you with inspiration into your companions character and heart and that your eyes will be opened. You will be blessed with an increased ability to love your companion, to care for her, and to respect her.

And with that love and respect, the two of you will truly be able to do the Lord's work and bless those sisters who have been entrusted into your care.

For more great articles on how to improve your visiting teaching efforts, please visit Jen's blog today for her Visiting Teaching Carnival!

A Touch of Human Kindness

2008-10-19T21:41:00.002-07:00

I wonder, where has the smile gone?

The "hi, how ya doin'?"

The tip of the hat, the nod of the chin, the friendly hand shake?

Today the family and I went for a walk around a lake. It was lovely, the lake smooth like glass, the sky clear like aquamarine, just perfect. The lake is surrounded by a boardwalk, and it was busy with families enjoying the day.

I smiled at everyone we passed. Is that so strange?

If not, why then, did no one smile back? Well, to be fair, one lady did smile at me.

But why only one of the dozens I passed? What has come of us, that we can't look outside of ourselves for a moment to brighten another's day?

This is a trend that I have been noticing more and more of lately. I feel that I am alone when I'm out among others--they don't see me, and I'm not supposed to see them. Except, I am a human among humans and I like to feel like I'm a part of something.

Tell me, where have the smiles gone? Where has that touch of human kindness gone that makes us so special?

Behind The Wheel

2008-10-16T10:52:00.003-07:00

I've been doing a lot of thinking about road rage lately and what my attitude is when I'm behind the wheel. It's made me curious about YOU and how you feel when you're out on the road.

I don't get road rage. I can honestly say, I've never felt that surge of adrenaline that urges me to chase down another driver and sock it to 'em.

I find driving a rather Zen-like activity. I'm trapped behind the wheel of my car. I can neither go any faster nor slower than the speed limit tells me (don't get me wrong, I'll take my 5 mph headway, thank you very much, but not very likely will I will I take much more.) If I get stuck in traffic, it's one of those things I cannot change, so I don't feel inclined to take it out on the driver in front of me.

Sure, I've been late. Sure, I've been stuck behind a driver who drove like Miss Daisy and failed to go when the light turned green thereby making me miss the light or ... you name it.

Yes, I've been cut off or in some other way endangered by another driver's inattention (or just plain rudeness) and muttered a choice word or two under my breath.

But has it spurred me on to outdo them in the rudeness or violent driving category? No. I just keep on keepin' on.

But as I said, I'm fascinated by what it is that goes on in a persons mind when they get offended on the road and then feel that they just have to take it a step further. That it just isn't enough for them to flip another person off, or even to shrug it off--they have to run the offending driver down and make sure they know how ticked off they are.

If you have insight into the road ragers' mind, I'd love to hear it. Tell me, too, what your attitude is when you're out on the road. Are you dangerous? Are you a passionate driver? Impatient? Or are you pretty even-keeled? Do you have a ke sara sort of attitude?

Surprise! And ... surprise.

2008-10-13T12:41:00.003-07:00

Last week was a week of surprises.

We had problems with our main bathroom toilet leaking. We pulled up the toilet and discovered a horrible rotting mess underneath it. We had a plumber come take a look at it. His verdict? Mold. And he couldn't touch it.
We called our insurance (thanks to my neighbor friends! because I hadn't even thought of calling them) and they sent out an adjuster. Turns out it is totally covered and all we need to pony up is our $500 deductable. Sweet! So we'll get our bathroom totally redone, new floors, paint, new fixtures and such, and all the work will be paid for with our insurance (we have to pay for the fixtures etc., but the 'base work' like the repair work and the floor and painting we will not have to pay for.)
I took David away for the weekend. The boys and I managed to keep it an entire surprise ... I drove up to the hotel with David and he went "oh!" He figured I was taking him out to dinner to a place I wanted to keep secret, but he had no idea how it was really going to turn out!
We went shopping at the Gateway on Friday night. I have been having a terrible time for a year now with my skin. It's mostly hormonal, but I have also been having a hard time finding a good skin care regimin as my old one no longer worked on my 'new' skin (a la hysterectomy and hormonal changes). So I went into the Apothecary store at the Gateway and after some discussion with the sales girl, decided to fork out $125 in skin care products. Bless my husband's heart, he didn't blink an eye. He wants me to be happy and if this stuff was going to help me, then he'd pay that and more. I had a hard time with it though ... that was a lot of money and I've never spent that much for that sort of thing before.
We enjoyed an evening of walking around the plaza and ended up at Barnes and Noble to buy some books (of course. No birthday excursion is ever complete with the purchase of copious amounts of books.) While at the store, I set my bag of very expensive lotions at my feet. My arms were full of books and I was feeling tired. I walked down the aisle to look at more books. When I turned back to retrieve my bag ... it was gone.
I cried and cried. We looked everywhere. The sales staff was less than helpful. It seems that stolen things is the norm there. They sort of looked at us like we were nuts for thinking our bag could be safe (even though we were in the same aisle).
We were really surprised at the difference between downtown Salt Lake City and the suburbs. If I had left my bag at the Jordan Landing store, I'm sure if someone saw it, they would come up to me, and say "Excuse me, is that your bag?" and/or they would turn it in to Customer Service. Downtown, however, whoever did it decided in a split second to grab the bag and, well, split.

So that was our week of surprises. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I'm happy to report that I did not let the theft get me down for too long. I was pretty sad most of Friday night - feeling guilty, mostly, that I had spent that much money, that I had been careless with it - but David was beyond sweet and I got over it because he let me. We had a great weekend and are now enjoying a loud and disorganized house as our remodelling work gets underway.

Oh, and I forgot another awesome surprise! Saturday night I had a story idea! I haven't had one for a while and it's been making me depressed, lol. Not that I need any new story ideas because I already have a file full of novels waiting to be written, but this one is unique and special. I'll enjoy writing it some day!

I Always Knew I Was Hot

2008-10-08T20:06:00.001-07:00

I'm a Porsche 911!

You have a classic style, but you're up-to-date with the latest technology. You're ambitious, competitive, and you love to win. Performance, precision, and prestige - you're one of the elite,and you know it.

Take the Which Sports Car Are You? quiz.

A Plea from an Innocent Driver

2008-10-07T17:24:00.002-07:00

Dear Mr. Scarey Man,

Today I fell in behind your large, shiny blue truck. I noticed you were having difficulty staying within your lanes, and I wondered if you were ill. Until I realized you were in the middle of a very dangerous game of chicken with a bulky carpet van.

I let my speed slow as much as I dared to do given the traffic behind me and the fact that we were on a 65 mph highway.

When you violently pulled your truck alongside the carpet van; when I saw you lean across the passenger seat and raise your hand in the shape of a gun; when I saw you pretend to shoot the driver of the van, I actually began to feel afraid.

I am not a violent person. I suffer from some post trautic stress because of a very violent childhood. Once, I was pulled from a car by the jaws of life, only narrowly escaping death itself. Though I wouldn't say I scare easily, perhaps I am more sensitive to threatening situations than others.

But in that moment, I seriously began to wonder if I was witnessing something more than your average episode of road rage.

I've had my share of honks or birds flipped in my direction. I've certainly seen it happen around me often enough. All of us make careless mistakes from time to time. I'm sure most of us do not intend any offense by our actions.

However, today, what I saw you do, how I saw you behave, made me think that it was very possible something terrible was going to happen.

After you pretended to shoot the guy driving the van, you drove in front of him and slowed down so hard that he was forced to hit the brakes too. Though I was following a safe distance behind his van, his sudden action caused a reaction in me. The car behind me was not following so safely and had to veer off the road in order to avoid rear ending me.

Now, sir, I'm sure you could not have known this, but I had two young boys in the backseat with me. Your actions almost caused them their lives.

I thought that was the worst of it. But just moments later, the van either forced you off the road, or you were trying to share the same lane as him (I'm honestly not sure which, and I'm not trying to judge), because you went flying into the small island that separated the southbound ramp from the northbound. I took the northbound, but when your truck flew onto the sandy island and coughed up so much dirt and debris that for a moment it obscured my vision entirely, I hoped you would have enough sense not to take your anger out on me.

Please, I prayed, let us pass.

Thankfully, your intent was entirely on the carpet van. But to what purpose? I have no idea what happened between the two of you that caused you to become so very upset. However, I do know that your behavior, and yours alone (because the van's drive appeared to be driving perfectly normally with the exception of his required responses to your behavior), put my family in jeapardy.

I was an innocent driver on that road today, sir. And my children were innocent passengers. We did our best to avoid close proximity to you in your moment of frustration and anger, but despite that we came perilously close. Your driving may have cost us our lives. The fact that it didn't is, in my opinion, no excuse.

I would ask you to consider others as you use the roadways. Even if one person offends you, please don't let your anger cloud your good judgement. For, even though you had a Calvin sticker on your van, showing the plucky youngster peeing on the ground (and gosh, but that's just so cute and classy) I'm sure you don't really want to piss on others around you. I'm sure you want to be treated decently, just as I expect to be.

So next time someone offends you while you're behind the wheel of your car, please remember the rest of us, us innocent drivers, who share the road with you.

Sincerely,

An Innocent Driver

Our General Conference Adventure

2008-10-06T13:16:00.004-07:00

Well, maybe it wasn't so much an adventure, but the title sounded well, adventurous and I wanted you stop by, lol!

David and I were expecting company late Friday night for the weekend and we had a date planned and our house was a mess (courtesy of homeschooling and my inability to get everything done that I need/want to get done in a single day.) Oh, and we needed to get groceries.

We did manage to get the house tidied up sufficiently before our date, but we didn't get home from our date and shopping till almost midnight, Friday night. Then we had to put everything away, get everyone's clothes ready for the next morning and get our bag ready for the trip. Oh, and we needed to figure out whether we were going to drive or take the train.

Charlie had a pretty good case of the sniffles before we left for the date and though it might be sacriligious to admit out loud, or at least in writing, I secretly hoped he would have a full-blown cold nad we 'wouldn't have to go.' Naughty, eh?

We were so tired when we finally went to bed, and it was nearly two o'clock in the morning that when the alarm went off at 7:00 and it was raining outside I fully expected that I would hit the off button and slide on back to sleep. But, I did not!

Glory, Hallejuiah, I was awake! We decided to take the train because we couldn't figure out where the parking lot was that we had a ticket for. It was raining and gross, but we made it to the train in time, downtown on time, and into our seats reasonably on time.

The boys were fascinated by the people gathered to tell us how wrong we are in our beliefs. Bless them, they knew enough to realize that what the people were saying about us was untrue.

They behaved well during the conference--perhaps even better than the teenage boy who sat next to us texting someone the entire time, or the pre-teen girl behind us who kept dropping things really loudly and was doing the full-on pout and whine for her parents.

Thanks to all the advice on what to bring! I was able to keep the boys entertained and they did just fine.

Charlie said, "I'm sorry for complaining about coming to Conference. It was really fun!" He also had the big heart to realize that Grampa probably would ahve really liked to come and next time we should bring him. (I did ask him, but he said he couldn't sit in the seats long enough.) And he said he hoped we could back again some time.

Xander didn't say much, except that he was glad we went.

This isn't a very good picture - it was raining really hard when we got out and I had to make due with my camera phone.

Oh, and on the way home there was standing room only on the train. I got to teach great lessons to the boys about how to behave on a train ... like how they should give up their seat to a lady should there not be a seat for her. I was shocked at two men, a dad and his teenage son, who sat, carelessly, while two women in high heels tried to keep their balance by hanging on to the hand-loops. Where were their manners?

We went to Denny's for lunch and talked over what we had learned. Then went home, got changed into our pj's and watched the rest of Conference at home with the fireplace on. Nice!

All in all, a great day, despite having running on very little sleep. It was a great blessing for all of us and I'm so glad we made the extra effort to go. It was totally worth it.

General Conference Questions

2008-10-02T10:42:00.002-07:00

I need to poll all my LDS readers out there.

My family and I have the opportunity to go to the Conference Center for the Saturday morning session of General Conference this week. We wanted to go, while we had the chance, because after our move to Massacheusetts, we may never get this opportunity again.

But, I've never been to a General Conference session in person before, and I'm not sure if there's anything I can bring for my boys.

For instance, at home, we have a very well established tradition of staying put and listening to every session of Conference. However, they get to play bingo, draw and color, write in their journals ... you name it. As long as they are in the same room and are generally quiet, they stay very busy.

Can I bring a journal or notebook for them to write in/draw in during our session? I sort of assumed yes, because I had hoped to take notes myself, but ... if they are drawing, will people become offended?

I understand they can't kneel on the ground and write on their seat like they might at church but ... what do you think?

If you've ever been to a General Conference session with young children, I'd love to hear about your experience. Thanks a bunch!

I've Got Personality

2008-09-30T20:58:00.003-07:00

My friend Tami had this cool personality test on her blog. It goes beyond your usual blogthing gimmick. I think this is the real thing. Well that, and they promote it not as a game, but as a tool to help you find your best place in the work force--reminiscent of those career aptitude tests we took in highschool.

Tami's said she was a Guardian, and man, it sure seemed to sum her up pretty darn well. So I did the test myself. And was not disappointed.

This personality test, called the Kiersey Temperment Sorter places individuals into one of four temperaments--Guardians (40-45% of the population), Idealists (15-20%), Artisans (30-35%) and Rationals (5-10%).

I am an Idealist.

I found it simultaneously flattering and comforting to read what it said about 'my type'. It helped me feel good about the way I am, even the ways I am different from other people (and therefore sometimes sticking points for me and my self-esteem) and the ways that I feel I excel.

The description is fairly lengthy, but in summary Idealists are:

Idealists are enthusiastic, they trust their intuition, yearn for romance, seek their true self, prize meaningful relationships, and dream of attaining wisdom.
Idealists pride themselves on being loving, kindhearted, and authentic.
Idealists tend to be giving, trusting, spiritual, and they are focused on personal journeys and human potentials.
Idealists make intense mates, nurturing parents, and inspirational leaders.

I'm pretty pleased with that ;)

If you're interested in taking the test, go to Kiersey.com ... then report back and let me know what Temperament you are. It would be fun to see.

Things I've Made

2008-09-27T19:41:00.012-07:00

I've been wanting to do this for a while, but I keep putting it off. But we've had a ton of babies born this year, and a couple more on the way, for which I've made things so I've had an influx of new pics on my computer. So I thought I'd start off by sharing a few of the most recent creations. Oh and these pictures were all taken by my cell phone because all of my cameras bit the dust this weekend. :( Sorry for the poor quality.

Daniel's Blessing Blanket

Daniel was born to Heidi and Brian this week.

This is the blanket they asked me to make for his blessing.

It's crocheted in a sort of pinwheel pattern with thread edging.

Emma's Sunday Outfit

Emma was born to Emily and Justin in July.

I hope they like this little outfit.

It's the most beautiful thing I've ever made, I think.

This is the sweater and dress.

The bonnet has a big pink "boy" at the nape of the neck,

and one flower on the side.

Yet another picture.

I just love this so much, I wanted to show it off as much as possible.

The sweater has a flower on either side,

with tiny flower buttons.

Katrina's Rag Quilt

Jeannette's baby was born in August.

I feel kind of bad for giving a simple rag quilt, but there are so many babies now,

that I can't keep up with them all. I'll be making Chenny and Denack's babies rag quilts too.

With this one I went with a kind of wacky owl theme.

It's very non-traditional, though there is pink in there, there's

also a couple fun owl prints and lots of brighter colors.

So, there you have it! Just a few of the things I've been up to the last few months. I have lots more pics of things I've made over the years, and many more 'things' out there that I forgot to take pictures of! Hope you don't mind if I share from time to time!

6 Quirky Things Tag :)

2008-09-26T10:48:00.003-07:00

My writing buddy, Jennifer, tagged me ... I'm supposed to write six unspectacular things about me. Unspectacular, eh? That's impossible because everything about is spectacular, right? LOL. Yeah, umm, right. Whatever you say, doc.

One of my favorite ways to deal with stress is to pluck my eyebrows. For some reason I find it really relaxing. *U* So if you see my eyebrows getting thinner and thinner and eve sometimes my eyelashes too, you can bet I'm feeling a lot of stress and anxiety over something!
Unlike Jennifer, I'm an extremely good navigator. Well, Jenn didn't say she was a bad navigator only that she was directionally dyslexic. I, on the other hand, am really excellent at remembering how to get to places or 'sensing' which way to go. I'm my own personal Urim and Thummin. Come to think of it, this is also one of the gifts I am given in my Patriarchal Blessing ... that I have the gift of discernment so that I will be able to 'tell others the way that the Lord would have them go.' Hmm.
I'm afraid of going DOWN on escalators. I have a really hard time stepping out onto the downward running first step. I HAVE to stand on the right and grip the rail and I always have to wait for at least three or four stairs to pass before I can step out.
When I set my alarm, it has to be for exactly :00, :15, :30 or :45. If I miss by even a minute, I have to go all the way through the numbers again. It can't be for :02 or :47 ... that just won't work for me.
I love to tickle but I absolutely cannot abide being tickled myself. Try it, and you're likely to get bopped in the nose, buddy.
I am not terribly spontaneous. I need to have plans. I'm not a 'fly by the seat of my pants' kind of girl. HOWEVER, if I make double-date type plans, I'll almost always find ways to get out of it because I get anxious about it. I talk myself out of it. So if we're going to do something as a group of friends, it's almost better to get me just a day or two before the thing, because otherwise I'll probably back out. Then again, if you only give me a day or two's notice I'm likely to say no because you didn't give me enough time to plan for it. :P

So there you go. Everything you never wanted to know about me and then some.

I'm going to tag Stephanie, Shana, Karen, Jeri, Jen and Kristi. Except my blog roll isn't working right now so I don't have your blog addies at this very second ... I'll add them later today! Here's the rules to your mission, should you choose to accept it:

Link to me in your post.

Mention the rules on your blog.

List six unspectacular quirks about yourself.

Tag six other bloggers by linking them.