Po-Tant!

And also, I am featured HERE today.  I've never been featured before...

Today's Goodness

I took today off work because we were going to be driving to St. George.  Even though I knew we were not going, I still took today off.  The timing was awful, I have lots to do at work, and I should be there.  But guess what?

That's what!

The laundry is nearly done.  The kitchen is clean.  The front windows are clean (inside and out).  My hair is cut and colored.  The deposit to the bank is made.  And I bought 4 spools of embroidery floss (what exactly IS forget-me-not blue?) for $1.03 at Robert's, which is having EVERYTHING 50% off through tomorrow.

Breezy asked if we could all come spend the weekend in Far-Away Logan.  Tay has to work, Spencer's kind of an invalid, and I just really want to veg in front of Conference all weekend (in addition to taking care of my sweetheart).  So Ash and Lando are headed up for the weekend for a little weekend party time.  Doesn't that sound fun?  I think so, too.

Our life is sweet, rich, a tiny bit sick, full, and beautiful.

And P.S.  2011 in Utah is having THE most beautiful fall EV.ER.

Hugely Disappointing

Spencer was up sick all night and ended up at InstaCare this morning.  He has been diagnosed with a terrible infection, which is going to make him miserable for several days (in spite of the antibiotics). 

Most importantly, though, it is going to preclude him from running the St. George marathon this weekend.

You might say, "Oh, there are lots of other marathons."  If you are saying that, you clearly have neither trained for a marathon nor prepared mentally for a marathon.  For the latter, timing is critical.  For the former, timing is EVERYTHING.  The two combined?  Well...

Needless to say, my sweetheart is one sad runner, which is adding terrible insult to the proverbial injury (or illness, as case may be).  Being sad myself is nothing compared to when the people I love are sad.  *sigh*

Sick, Sick, Sick

Sick:  Ashtyn got sick and missed a day of school.  It was only her 2nd missed day, and we are at Q.1 midterm.  Everyone knock on wood--Ashtyn has been well for a long time!

Sick:  Briana got sick, and she texts me heart-wrenching things from Far Away Logan, like, "Mommy!  I want you!"  What's a mom to do?

Sick:  I got sick and missed church and the RS conference (hello and thank you, internet and amazing church employees, for taking care of me) and a day and a half of work (including today).  I'm sure there's more I'm missing because my brain is definitely not firing on all cylinders.  I often wonder, is it the illness or is the drugs?

Happy fall, everyone.  It's a beautiful, beautiful time of year.

Here's hoping that this is my big cold for the coming season.

Sharing a Memory -- Grandma C.

My dad's mother was widowed, and several years later she married another man who lived in the beautiful Heber Valley, so the family moved there.  After some time, Grandma became pregnant with my aunt, who, as it turned out, is only 6 years older than I am.  Grandpa built his sweet daughter a playhouse, complete with a dutch door, a "sofa" made from a car's bench seat, a small folding table, and various other wonders.

Much to the chagrin of the older children, the boy grandchildren were not welcome in the playhouse.  The girls, though?  Oh, the heaven of that wonderland!  There were baby dolls and baby carriages and purses and china dishes and a washing machine and laundry to fold.  It was glorious!  There were only a few of us girls, and most of them were much younger than I.  The next closest in age was 3 years my junior, but I loved it when both G and I could be at Grandma's at the same time.

My aunt and I were pretty good friends, too, in spite of the age difference. I suppose in many ways she was just putting up with me, but I sure loved to go spend several days at Grandma's!

Sometimes when we were playing in the playhouse, Grandma would come to the dutch door.  She always wore a house dress and an apron, but she'd come with lipstick on, and gloves on her hands, and her purse over her arm, and she would say, "Ding dong!  Avon calling!"  We'd let her into our little home, and she would open her magical purse and bring out something so incredibly mom-ish that it was all I could do not to squeal in delight.  Sometimes it was a bright red lipstick.  Sometimes it was perfume that we could "sample."  My favorite was when it was the Rose Milk.

Does anyone remember Rose Milk?  My grandma was a die-hard Lawrence Welk fan (to this day, LW reruns take me right back to the basement of my grandparents' Heber home--heavenly!), and she believed in everything they advertised.  Esoterica for her age spots, Geritol every day, and Rose Milk.  Grandma always had two bottles of lotion in the window by the sink:  the Jergen's was something we were welcome to use, but the Rose Milk was Grandma's alone.

So when our "Avon Lady" brought the Rose Milk, it was a special treat.  She would carefully remove her gloves, put a spot of Rose Milk on my hands, and carefully rub it in, all the while telling me about the special qualities of this marvelous product.

She would take our order and wish us a good day.  And then we didn't see Grandma again until she'd bring out lunch on a plate--sandwiches and a pitcher of water and usually some vegetables.  Sometimes she'd stand outside the Dutch door and "call" us on the telephone.  "Ring, ring!" she'd say, and we'd rush to answer the phone on the wall.  "Would you like your lunch in the big house or here?" she'd ask.

I once went into Victoria's Secret, and they had a rose lotion.  The moment I smelled it, the tears welled in my eyes as I longed for my grandma.  Why, when she was so ill and incapacitated, did I not think to rub lotion into her hands or spritz her with a "special" perfume or dab a bright red spot on her lips?  I don't know, but in our next life, that I one of the first things I want to do.

A Public Transportation Story

I entered the train with three other people.  One was a young (20ish), very clean, very cute woman.  The other two were men, travelling together.  One was pretty shabby with dredlocks (ew!).  The other thought he was all that in his Nike shirt, with the short sleeves rolled back to show his tats.

We were heading toward the University, so the train was pretty full of young people.  Tattoo-man was sitting across the aisle from Pretty Girl and straight across from his buddy.  He was fairly pointedly ignoring his very uncool companion.  As we traveled through campus, the train got more and more empty, and Tattoo-man moved to another seat (completely ditching his buddy) so he was facing the other direction (facing Pretty Girl).

Finally the two men were getting off the train.  Tattoo-man walks up to Pretty Girl and says, "Hey, gorgeous.  You dropped something.  I think it was your smile."  Then he swaggered off the train.

Well, those of us who were left there burst into laughter.  Poor Pretty Girl turned 14 shades of pink and said, "Can you imagine if I brought HIM home to meet my parents?  Ew.  THAT would go over well."  The man sitting next to me (in his 40's, probably) said, "Please, God, don't let my daughter ever bring someone like that home."

And also, was that a cheesy pick-up line, or what?

A (Short) Story in Pictures

Today

rode

to

where I finally got to meet and hug

Both of these ladies are beautiful, so I feel

The end.

Sharing a Memory -- Landon

Landon was just 2 years old when Grandma lived with us.  The two of them were pretty great friends.  Landon LOVED to do whatever he could to help Grandma.  I would put her pills on a plate so he could carry them to her, then follow behind with a glass of water.  He loved to carry her dinner plate in to her when she was too worn out to come to the table.  She used a cane, and he would take it all the time.  Finally my mother-in-law gave Landon one of the extra canes so he had one of his own and would leave Grandma's there for her use.

One morning I was standing at the kitchen sink when Landon walked in. 

"Gomma fod," he said.

"What?"

"Gomma fod."

"Grandma fell?"

"Yah.  Gomma fod."
Sure enough I hustled into her room and found her sitting on the floor against her bed.  She had tried to seat herself on the bed, didn't get on far enough, and just slid down to the floor.  Fortunately she was not hurt.  But she would not let me try to lift her (she probably weighed 90 pounds).  So I went back into the kitchen (where the phone was attached to the wall--remember those day?) and called my brother to see if he could come help us.  When I went back into Grandma's room, Landon was plopped on the floor next to her, the two of them just waiting.

Sharing a Memory -- Grandma B

Spencer's grandmother lived with us for about 6 months when she was in her 90's.  She was not a sweet, kind, Mrs. Claus kind of grandma, but I loved her very, very much, and I learned many things from her as she lived in our home.

One day, 6 or 8 months after she'd left our home, I called her and asked if I could take her to lunch.  I picked her up, and as we drove I asked how she was doing.  She was rather melancholy that day, and she said, "You know, I'm lonely. 

"My parents have been gone for years.  I only have one sibling living, and he's my baby brother, living in another state.  And every last one of my friends has died." 

She then proceeded to tell me that Addie, who was her best friend through school in small-town Idaho, had died a few months ago.  She and Addie had remained friends all through the years and had tried to get together once every year or two.  They shared letters, mostly, because neither of them could hear very well on the telephone.

There are two things I learned from this.  One thing I thought was that her "homecoming" when she died was probably very sweet. Grandma adored her mother, and I'm sure she was glad to see many of the people she knew and loved when she was a younger woman.


The other has to do with family and friends.  It has to do with love.  Grandma was never happy in her marriage, and she didn't even mention missing her husband.  Because Grandma and Grandpa were so miserable, life for their two children was also fairly miserable.  Grandma was survived by both of her children, but they were not a lot of comfort to her in her advanced age.  Grandma also never went out of her way to cultivate friendships, so she was very alone.  That's very sad.

Happy Fall

The best part about fall is the colors.

Wouldn't you agree?