If you have halogen lights in your car, you might find this handy. It was news to me this morning, and something that could have caused me some serious problems (like, you know, death).
Helpful information: I drive an all black Toyota Prius; it was 6:30 a.m.; my city has no auto care/parts store that could have helped; changing these dang lights has taken me 60-90 minutes in the past.
Last night when I got home from work, I noticed that one of my headlights wasn't working. I just replaced both low beam headlights maybe three months ago (if even that). It really made me mad because those lights are not cheap. Even $40 on a tight budget is, well, a big deal. I was whining to Mom about it because I didn't have it in my budget to spend that kind of money, especially on something I took care of not long ago. I was also tired when I got home, so I decided to forego leaving the house again to purchase and install new bulbs, and opted instead to drive with one headlight for another day until I could get to the store tonight.
Well, life has other plans. Rude!
When I got out to my car this morning and started off down the street, I realized it was way darker than I remembered it being from the previous day. I turned my lights off and on again to see what the problem was. The problem was I didn't have any headlights. Both of my low beam lights had blown out. It kind of freaked me out because I was worried last night that it might be a fuse problem which would be even more expensive, especially if I had to take it in to get the fuse(s) fixed.
Anyway, at that point I'd already been flashed by one car and was on the main road leading from my house to the next city. I decided to drive with my parking lights on (I didn't want to blind anyone by driving with my high beams on) and just flash my lights at intersections where cars might be tempted to pull out in front of me. Thankfully, I made it through town without any incident, and when I got to the main street in the next town I noticed an Advance Auto Care parts store with a sign flashing, "Open."
Hallelujah!
And then I remembered how freaking long it was going to take to change the dang lights. GR!
So, I pulled into a parking space, sent a quick email to my boss about my situation saying I'd be late, and ran into the store. They quickly helped me find the correct lights (on sale for $10 off - woot!), and as I picked them up I said, "I don't suppose there is anyone here that could help me change these, is there?" The girl that was ringing me up didn't say anything or respond to the question, so I thought, "Okay ... now what?" Next thing I know, a guy comes walking through the aisle in the back, and he's pulling on some latex gloves. He asked where I was parked, the girl gave him the lights while I finished the purchase, and he took my keys out to the car. By the time I had paid, he already had my hood up and was yanking out the first light.
As soon as he pulled the light out he said, "Yep, it's exactly what I thought. Who changed these for you the last time?" Gulp. "Me," I said. "Ah, well, you wouldn't have known then, but you actually can't touch these halogen bulbs with your fingers because the oil from your skin gets on them and creates a 'break' in the glass when it heats up. You can see here where it burst."
Sure enough, there's a big black hole in the old light. D'oh! I could have saved myself $40 (plus!) if I'd known to put on some rubber gloves. LAME.
He changed out both lights in a jif (about 15 minutes - record time), and I was on my way. Well, I was on my way after I asked, "Is it kosher to give you a hug?!" At which point I threw my arms around him in a hug and he said, "Don't let me get you dirty with oil or grease!" He even took my old lights and tossed them for me.
THAT is crazy good customer service. Another girl even came out with a flashlight (I was using my phone to light under the hood of the car) and said, "Let's use this light so you don't burn through the battery on your phone." What? So thoughtful!
Sometimes I'm amazed at the things people will do to help. It didn't used to be uncommon to receive that kind of service. That's the kind of service Dad taught us to give at the family business. Always go the extra mile. Make the customer feel good. Do everything you can to make going there or buying there a good experience. But not everybody or every place does that now, even in smaller towns. We've lost that connection to good customer service, and by customer service I mean treating others like you'd want to be treated. And yet, when I needed it most, there was a whole group of people willing to help me out and get me on my way to work safely. Blows my mind that it still happens. And because of that, I will definitely go back to that store over and above other auto parts stores.
Win - win. I got new headlights and a safe drive to work, they got rave reviews on my blog and Facebook. Plus, word of mouth advertising never hurts, especially when it's good. Thanks to Dad for teaching me what good customer service means, and thanks to those at Advance Auto Care this morning for being taught the same.
For future reference, I'll be using latex gloves if/when I have to change those dang bulbs again. And if you have halogen bulbs in your car, take note! Keep your greasy paws off those halogen bulbs or you'll be driving to work in the dark.
Lesson. Learned.
Tuesday, September 29, 2015
Thursday, September 24, 2015
All Things Pumpkin
It's kind of tradition every year in the Fall to do lots of things with pumpkins. Pumpkins run a plenty around us, and you can usually find a good-sized one for a decent price for carving purposes. The last several years, Mom and I have spent time with David and his girls/family while I carve a pumpkin. Mom never participates in the carving, but I think she really enjoys listening to us talk, laugh, joke, and encourage each other as we gut those Jack O'Lanterns and make them into something cool. This year is no exception. David has already invited us for our annual carving fest, and I hope to pick up my pumpkin in the next couple of weeks so I get my pick of the litter and don't have to take whatever is left.
Along with pumpkin carving, there are tons of pumpkin recipes that are so delicious. I could eat anything pumpkin year round. One of my favorite recipes of all time is one we used to make around Christmas every year. It's a pumpkin log with a cake-like pumpkin outside, cream cheese frosting inside, and sprinkled with powdered sugar. We use to freeze it and eat it over weeks during the holidays. Such fond memories of the pumpkin log. It's been years since we've done it because it's very messy and takes a lot of time and effort (and the entire kitchen to get it done). Maybe this year I can change that and keep a frozen stash. Mmmm mmmm mmmm.
Something else that has become a tradition more recently is making pumpkin stew. This is a hearty meal and very filling. It makes great leftovers and warms up well in the microwave or reheated in the oven. Even Dad, who doesn't like squash of any kind, liked this recipe and gobbled it up. It's great served with a side of garlic bread or dished up on its own. And usually there's not much room, if any, for dessert. I thought it would be fun to include the recipe here for future reference. Just keep in mind that the recipe doesn't contain any measurements. It takes adjusting depending on how many pumpkins of stew you plan to make. And you don't have to add everything listed here. You can pick and choose and cater to your own tastes (or your family's tastes). I guarantee that kids will love it, especially if you have them help you make it. They think it's pretty cool when you take a pumpkin out of the oven and have dinner baked inside of it. Yuuuuuuuuuumy!
Pumpkin Stew (the basics)
Small pumpkins (usually one per person, depending on size; some people call them sugar pumpkins, but they're not the really tiny ones used for decoration)
Rice or potatoes
Tomatoes (canned or fresh; used to help create moisture, so do not drain the juice)
Green beans
Corn
Carrots
Onion
Peppers (of any color, although yellow and orange give it sweet flavor, while red and green make it a little spicier)
If you're David, add jalapenos!
Hamburger (you could probably use chicken, turkey, or pork, but I like it with red meat)
Any other veggies you want (cabbage, zucchini, etc.)
Meat or veggie stock
Salt and pepper to taste
Cheese (my personal preference is a sharp cheddar)
Preheat oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit.
Gut the pumpkins (use the seeds for a treat later!) by cutting off the tops and leaving as much flesh as possible inside. Lather the outside of the pumpkins (to avoid burning and over-drying) with olive oil or vegetable oil. Place on a cookie sheet (or other heavy pan where they can sit flat).
Cook the hamburger (or other meat) and rice or potatoes (separately). Drain the hamburger for less fat intake if you want. It helps to keep a little bit of fat with the meat so the "stew" stays semi-wet. If using potatoes, cut them up into bite-sized pieces. Cut all the other veggies into bite-sized pieces. If you want the harder veggies (like carrots and peppers) to be fully cooked (soft to the bite) saute them in a bit of butter and/or olive oil before adding them to the stew combination.
Combine the meat, starch, and all the veggies together using the juice from the tomatoes and the meat or veggie stock until you get a thick, consistent stew-like mixture. Spoon the mixture into the pumpkins. Bake at 400 degrees for about an hour (sometimes less, sometimes more depending on the size of the pumpkins). You'll see the outside of the pumpkins start to "shrivel", and that's how you can tell it's done cooking.
Remove from the oven and let rest for a few minutes. It's best to eat a whole pumpkin in a bowl, but they can be cut into sections and eaten on a plate as well. Top with cheese, and eat the pumpkin out of the shell along with the rest of the stew.
There you have it! Pumpkin stew to feed the masses. You won't regret making it. In fact, it might become your new Fall family tradition. I'm not sure if we'll make it this year, but I do know that it's one of my favorites and well worth all the work.
And if you have a David around your house, persuade him into making homemade caramel ice cream to go along with it (or vanilla with caramel topping). It will be the perfect and complementary dessert for your pumpkin stew. Plus, ice cream kind of fills in all the little holes in your stomach that didn't get enough food, so there's ALWAYS room for ice cream.
I'm looking forward to Fall (and other holiday) traditions this year. Fall is my favorite season. I love everything about it. There's nothing better than the sounds of leaves falling to the ground and crunching under foot, the wind blowing, the air getting crisper and cooler, the smells of cinnamon and nutmeg and spice and pumpkin wafting in the air, the vibrant colors of leaves, the sweaters and scarves that come out of hiding, and the taste of romance in the air (even when there's nobody to be romantic with). Fall is just an amazing season. Even 'The Bear' likes Fall. He perches himself on the porch and surveys his kingdom for longer amounts of time in the Fall. I think he knows what follows ... snow and freezing cold!
In the meantime, I'm going to savor every delicious, delightful moment of my favorite season. Please stay forever, Fall!
Along with pumpkin carving, there are tons of pumpkin recipes that are so delicious. I could eat anything pumpkin year round. One of my favorite recipes of all time is one we used to make around Christmas every year. It's a pumpkin log with a cake-like pumpkin outside, cream cheese frosting inside, and sprinkled with powdered sugar. We use to freeze it and eat it over weeks during the holidays. Such fond memories of the pumpkin log. It's been years since we've done it because it's very messy and takes a lot of time and effort (and the entire kitchen to get it done). Maybe this year I can change that and keep a frozen stash. Mmmm mmmm mmmm.
Something else that has become a tradition more recently is making pumpkin stew. This is a hearty meal and very filling. It makes great leftovers and warms up well in the microwave or reheated in the oven. Even Dad, who doesn't like squash of any kind, liked this recipe and gobbled it up. It's great served with a side of garlic bread or dished up on its own. And usually there's not much room, if any, for dessert. I thought it would be fun to include the recipe here for future reference. Just keep in mind that the recipe doesn't contain any measurements. It takes adjusting depending on how many pumpkins of stew you plan to make. And you don't have to add everything listed here. You can pick and choose and cater to your own tastes (or your family's tastes). I guarantee that kids will love it, especially if you have them help you make it. They think it's pretty cool when you take a pumpkin out of the oven and have dinner baked inside of it. Yuuuuuuuuuumy!
Pumpkin Stew (the basics)
Small pumpkins (usually one per person, depending on size; some people call them sugar pumpkins, but they're not the really tiny ones used for decoration)
Rice or potatoes
Tomatoes (canned or fresh; used to help create moisture, so do not drain the juice)
Green beans
Corn
Carrots
Onion
Peppers (of any color, although yellow and orange give it sweet flavor, while red and green make it a little spicier)
If you're David, add jalapenos!
Hamburger (you could probably use chicken, turkey, or pork, but I like it with red meat)
Any other veggies you want (cabbage, zucchini, etc.)
Meat or veggie stock
Salt and pepper to taste
Cheese (my personal preference is a sharp cheddar)
Preheat oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit.
Gut the pumpkins (use the seeds for a treat later!) by cutting off the tops and leaving as much flesh as possible inside. Lather the outside of the pumpkins (to avoid burning and over-drying) with olive oil or vegetable oil. Place on a cookie sheet (or other heavy pan where they can sit flat).
Cook the hamburger (or other meat) and rice or potatoes (separately). Drain the hamburger for less fat intake if you want. It helps to keep a little bit of fat with the meat so the "stew" stays semi-wet. If using potatoes, cut them up into bite-sized pieces. Cut all the other veggies into bite-sized pieces. If you want the harder veggies (like carrots and peppers) to be fully cooked (soft to the bite) saute them in a bit of butter and/or olive oil before adding them to the stew combination.
Combine the meat, starch, and all the veggies together using the juice from the tomatoes and the meat or veggie stock until you get a thick, consistent stew-like mixture. Spoon the mixture into the pumpkins. Bake at 400 degrees for about an hour (sometimes less, sometimes more depending on the size of the pumpkins). You'll see the outside of the pumpkins start to "shrivel", and that's how you can tell it's done cooking.
Remove from the oven and let rest for a few minutes. It's best to eat a whole pumpkin in a bowl, but they can be cut into sections and eaten on a plate as well. Top with cheese, and eat the pumpkin out of the shell along with the rest of the stew.
There you have it! Pumpkin stew to feed the masses. You won't regret making it. In fact, it might become your new Fall family tradition. I'm not sure if we'll make it this year, but I do know that it's one of my favorites and well worth all the work.
And if you have a David around your house, persuade him into making homemade caramel ice cream to go along with it (or vanilla with caramel topping). It will be the perfect and complementary dessert for your pumpkin stew. Plus, ice cream kind of fills in all the little holes in your stomach that didn't get enough food, so there's ALWAYS room for ice cream.
I'm looking forward to Fall (and other holiday) traditions this year. Fall is my favorite season. I love everything about it. There's nothing better than the sounds of leaves falling to the ground and crunching under foot, the wind blowing, the air getting crisper and cooler, the smells of cinnamon and nutmeg and spice and pumpkin wafting in the air, the vibrant colors of leaves, the sweaters and scarves that come out of hiding, and the taste of romance in the air (even when there's nobody to be romantic with). Fall is just an amazing season. Even 'The Bear' likes Fall. He perches himself on the porch and surveys his kingdom for longer amounts of time in the Fall. I think he knows what follows ... snow and freezing cold!
In the meantime, I'm going to savor every delicious, delightful moment of my favorite season. Please stay forever, Fall!
Monday, September 21, 2015
I'm a Realist ... and a Perfectionist
I'm a Realist. And a Perfectionist. This creates many problems for me, as you can imagine. I'm all about sharing examples so that other people "get it" when I'm trying to explain something, but honestly, there's not an example that would make sense to anyone else.
My mom is an optimist. She loves to expect and look for the best - in any situation, in any person, in EVERYthing. I like that about her. In fact, I love that about her! We need optimists in this world. Otherwise, it would feel like it was all going to pot with no chance of redemption. And that's just not the case.
For the realist (at least in my case), I hope for the best and think the best of people, but I mentally and emotionally prepare myself for the worst to happen - just in case. In other words, I try to prepare for disappointment before it happens so that if (or when) it happens I'm ready to deal with the fall out. Sometimes I'll even say, "I knew it. I knew that would happen." Other times I think, "Well, that wasn't what I expected, but at least I am prepared to deal with it."
I can't divulge anything right now, but I've been in the middle of a ... circumstance (for lack of a better word), and I've found myself in the position of Realist. I want the best, and I'm hoping for the best, but I'm also preparing for the worst (or an end that I don't really want).
So where does the Perfectionist part come in?
"Failures" are really, really difficult sometimes! Failures are actually good for us - if we learn from them. I'm choosing to learn, and that's a good thing. What lesson is to be learned? That's yet to be known. The Perfectionist in me says when I've failed I've done something wrong. That's not always the case, but the Perfectionist says, "You didn't do it perfectly. Try again! And this time don't fail!" We can be tough on ourselves.
When I know more about my circumstance I'll share. Or should I say when it ends I'll share? Either way, I'm choosing to be a Realist in the meantime and not let Perfectionism take over and tell me I've failed or faltered. Wish me luck! This could be a loooooong trial. Or not?
My mom is an optimist. She loves to expect and look for the best - in any situation, in any person, in EVERYthing. I like that about her. In fact, I love that about her! We need optimists in this world. Otherwise, it would feel like it was all going to pot with no chance of redemption. And that's just not the case.
For the realist (at least in my case), I hope for the best and think the best of people, but I mentally and emotionally prepare myself for the worst to happen - just in case. In other words, I try to prepare for disappointment before it happens so that if (or when) it happens I'm ready to deal with the fall out. Sometimes I'll even say, "I knew it. I knew that would happen." Other times I think, "Well, that wasn't what I expected, but at least I am prepared to deal with it."
I can't divulge anything right now, but I've been in the middle of a ... circumstance (for lack of a better word), and I've found myself in the position of Realist. I want the best, and I'm hoping for the best, but I'm also preparing for the worst (or an end that I don't really want).
So where does the Perfectionist part come in?
"Failures" are really, really difficult sometimes! Failures are actually good for us - if we learn from them. I'm choosing to learn, and that's a good thing. What lesson is to be learned? That's yet to be known. The Perfectionist in me says when I've failed I've done something wrong. That's not always the case, but the Perfectionist says, "You didn't do it perfectly. Try again! And this time don't fail!" We can be tough on ourselves.
When I know more about my circumstance I'll share. Or should I say when it ends I'll share? Either way, I'm choosing to be a Realist in the meantime and not let Perfectionism take over and tell me I've failed or faltered. Wish me luck! This could be a loooooong trial. Or not?
Friday, August 21, 2015
Soapbox
It's a soapbox day today. Are you ready? No? Well, get ready.
There were limited cafeteria options at work today because of some party in the park that an affiliate was hosting (which I never heard about and did not go to), and usually I'm not pleased with work cafeteria food anyway, so I opted to walk across the street to the mall and take my chances at the food court. (And considering yesterday's thoroughly disgusting Chinese food fiasco, this was a mighty feat for a second day.) ANYWAY ...
I got my Mexican food (kind of hard to mess that stuff up) and went to a more quiet corner and sat where I could people watch while aimlessly surfing the apps on my phone. The apps got boring quickly, so I ate lunch while I people watched. Great fun. If you've never sat back and watched people you should try it some time. It can get pretty comical. When I'm with good friends who are also people watchers, we've made up conversations between the people we're watching. It gets crazy fairly fast. What - that doesn't surprise you? Huh.
My lunch was good, so nothing to complain about there, but as I sat there watching people interact, walk by, get their food, find places to sit, chat with their friends, etc. I had this overwhelming realization that we're all SO different. There were tall people, short people, skinny people, larger people, round shapes, straight sticks, curvy figures, white people, Asian people, Latin people, African people, adults, kids, moms and dads, and everything in between. As I stewed over that realization, I also realized how easily it was to judge them all for one thing or another.
That one is really tall. I wonder how they find pants long enough.
That one is so skinny. I bet they have to buy their clothes in kid's sizes.
That one is so round and curvy. I wonder if they wear "plus sizes" (I hate that term, by the way).
That one is so short. I bet his/her friends tease him/her.
And so on, and so on.
There were also thoughts about fashion (I can't believe they walked out of the house in that! Whoa - that's a short dress. Good grief, those pants look awful on him.) Now, I get that fashion is an individual thing. What some people wear I wouldn't be caught dead in, but I know very well that much of what I wear is too bland for other people. My aunt tells me all the time when we go shopping together to "get some more color" in my clothes. We have much the same coloring, and she looks great in very vibrant colors (I do, too), but I'm just not as comfortable as she is in those colors. I feel like I'm shouting at people with my clothes saying, "Look at ME!", yet that's not what I think when she wears those colors. It's personal preference, you know?
As I'm watching all these people and having all these thoughts go through my mind I started to feel small for "judging" these people without knowing anything else about them. It's not that I was intentionally doing it or even doing it with a negative approach. They were just thoughts that kind of rambled through my head. ("Ye shall know them by their thoughts" ... is that a thing? Because if it is, based on today, uh oh.)
I think what "caused" all of this is, sometimes when I'm not feeling so great about myself, I wonder what people actually think of me. (It's actually rare that I care what anyone else thinks about me. Take me or leave me. What I am is what you get.) Do they think I'm average or kind of pretty? Do they think I'm dressed fashionably or slouchy/frumpy/out-of-date? Do they look at my short pixie hair cut and think I look like a boy/man? Do my ears stick out so they think I look like Dumbo? Is my makeup smearing so they think I look like a raccoon?
SERIOUSLY? Seriously.
Not that I felt about myself that way today, but the thought did cross my mind, and then I wondered how many other people do the same thing. Honestly, this probably all stems from circumstances in my own life where people made fun, pointed, stared, whatever. I remember in junior high a particular instance. I have never been thin (or anything remotely close to it), and as I was walking in the hallways during lunch one day with a friend who weighed a lot more than I did, some very rude and stupid boys yelled, "Hey, it's Shamu and her friend, Shamu, Jr.!" Really guys? Thank heavens for me I've also been witty, so I came back with some snarky remark that shut them up. Those same boys were like that throughout high school. They were cruel to this friend of mine. It stopped with me because they knew I'd be vocal back and point out their worst features without thinking twice. Coping mechanism? Probably. Words work though. Sometimes they're piercing.
And now that this has become a novella, I'll try to get to the point. I realized that as much as I know Heavenly Father loves me, I also know He loves all of His children. ALL of them. Even if they don't know Him or even recognize that He exists. Because He's our Father, He created us as we should be. Sure, we fluctuate in weight, our shape changes as we grow older, our looks become different as we age, but through it all He loves us just as much as He ever did. So who am I to judge what another person is or isn't? Who cares what they're wearing or whether they combed their hair? What does it matter that their personal habits are different than mine? What does height, weight, size or anything else have to do with anything? It doesn't! Heavenly Father sees us as we are now and as we can become. He sees us through "rose colored glasses" (if you will) because He sees our untapped potential as not only human beings, but as His imperfect children.
As lunch wound down, I found that instead of looking at the outward appearances of people, I was looking more inward. I watched the couple sitting across from me with a set of twin girls (about two-years-old) and a young son (about 6 months) as they tried to get their daughters to eat and keep their son happy all while trying to connect in some way over what was probably his short lunch hour. I watched the young girl sitting across from me as she studied out of a text book and wrote notes furiously as she tried to better herself. I watched as friends sat together and talked and laughed and enjoyed each other's company as they caught up on life adventures, sorrows, mishaps, and joys. I saw an older couple help each other to the restrooms, wait for each other to finish, and walk hand-in-hand back through the mall the way they'd come without saying anything at all to each other, and I knew they were still communicating.
I think I got a small glimpse of what our Heavenly Father sees in each one of us: His children doing the best they can with what they've got. The reality is we're much more alike than we are different. Even though we're on similar journeys, we're still on different journeys. And hopefully, somewhere along the way, we're enjoying our journey and not worrying so much about what others think or what society says we need to be.
From now on, I hope I can keep that perspective and, instead of judging those I see, love those I see. I have a sneaky feeling that people watching is going to be much better.
There were limited cafeteria options at work today because of some party in the park that an affiliate was hosting (which I never heard about and did not go to), and usually I'm not pleased with work cafeteria food anyway, so I opted to walk across the street to the mall and take my chances at the food court. (And considering yesterday's thoroughly disgusting Chinese food fiasco, this was a mighty feat for a second day.) ANYWAY ...
I got my Mexican food (kind of hard to mess that stuff up) and went to a more quiet corner and sat where I could people watch while aimlessly surfing the apps on my phone. The apps got boring quickly, so I ate lunch while I people watched. Great fun. If you've never sat back and watched people you should try it some time. It can get pretty comical. When I'm with good friends who are also people watchers, we've made up conversations between the people we're watching. It gets crazy fairly fast. What - that doesn't surprise you? Huh.
My lunch was good, so nothing to complain about there, but as I sat there watching people interact, walk by, get their food, find places to sit, chat with their friends, etc. I had this overwhelming realization that we're all SO different. There were tall people, short people, skinny people, larger people, round shapes, straight sticks, curvy figures, white people, Asian people, Latin people, African people, adults, kids, moms and dads, and everything in between. As I stewed over that realization, I also realized how easily it was to judge them all for one thing or another.
That one is really tall. I wonder how they find pants long enough.
That one is so skinny. I bet they have to buy their clothes in kid's sizes.
That one is so round and curvy. I wonder if they wear "plus sizes" (I hate that term, by the way).
That one is so short. I bet his/her friends tease him/her.
And so on, and so on.
There were also thoughts about fashion (I can't believe they walked out of the house in that! Whoa - that's a short dress. Good grief, those pants look awful on him.) Now, I get that fashion is an individual thing. What some people wear I wouldn't be caught dead in, but I know very well that much of what I wear is too bland for other people. My aunt tells me all the time when we go shopping together to "get some more color" in my clothes. We have much the same coloring, and she looks great in very vibrant colors (I do, too), but I'm just not as comfortable as she is in those colors. I feel like I'm shouting at people with my clothes saying, "Look at ME!", yet that's not what I think when she wears those colors. It's personal preference, you know?
As I'm watching all these people and having all these thoughts go through my mind I started to feel small for "judging" these people without knowing anything else about them. It's not that I was intentionally doing it or even doing it with a negative approach. They were just thoughts that kind of rambled through my head. ("Ye shall know them by their thoughts" ... is that a thing? Because if it is, based on today, uh oh.)
I think what "caused" all of this is, sometimes when I'm not feeling so great about myself, I wonder what people actually think of me. (It's actually rare that I care what anyone else thinks about me. Take me or leave me. What I am is what you get.) Do they think I'm average or kind of pretty? Do they think I'm dressed fashionably or slouchy/frumpy/out-of-date? Do they look at my short pixie hair cut and think I look like a boy/man? Do my ears stick out so they think I look like Dumbo? Is my makeup smearing so they think I look like a raccoon?
SERIOUSLY? Seriously.
Not that I felt about myself that way today, but the thought did cross my mind, and then I wondered how many other people do the same thing. Honestly, this probably all stems from circumstances in my own life where people made fun, pointed, stared, whatever. I remember in junior high a particular instance. I have never been thin (or anything remotely close to it), and as I was walking in the hallways during lunch one day with a friend who weighed a lot more than I did, some very rude and stupid boys yelled, "Hey, it's Shamu and her friend, Shamu, Jr.!" Really guys? Thank heavens for me I've also been witty, so I came back with some snarky remark that shut them up. Those same boys were like that throughout high school. They were cruel to this friend of mine. It stopped with me because they knew I'd be vocal back and point out their worst features without thinking twice. Coping mechanism? Probably. Words work though. Sometimes they're piercing.
And now that this has become a novella, I'll try to get to the point. I realized that as much as I know Heavenly Father loves me, I also know He loves all of His children. ALL of them. Even if they don't know Him or even recognize that He exists. Because He's our Father, He created us as we should be. Sure, we fluctuate in weight, our shape changes as we grow older, our looks become different as we age, but through it all He loves us just as much as He ever did. So who am I to judge what another person is or isn't? Who cares what they're wearing or whether they combed their hair? What does it matter that their personal habits are different than mine? What does height, weight, size or anything else have to do with anything? It doesn't! Heavenly Father sees us as we are now and as we can become. He sees us through "rose colored glasses" (if you will) because He sees our untapped potential as not only human beings, but as His imperfect children.
As lunch wound down, I found that instead of looking at the outward appearances of people, I was looking more inward. I watched the couple sitting across from me with a set of twin girls (about two-years-old) and a young son (about 6 months) as they tried to get their daughters to eat and keep their son happy all while trying to connect in some way over what was probably his short lunch hour. I watched the young girl sitting across from me as she studied out of a text book and wrote notes furiously as she tried to better herself. I watched as friends sat together and talked and laughed and enjoyed each other's company as they caught up on life adventures, sorrows, mishaps, and joys. I saw an older couple help each other to the restrooms, wait for each other to finish, and walk hand-in-hand back through the mall the way they'd come without saying anything at all to each other, and I knew they were still communicating.
I think I got a small glimpse of what our Heavenly Father sees in each one of us: His children doing the best they can with what they've got. The reality is we're much more alike than we are different. Even though we're on similar journeys, we're still on different journeys. And hopefully, somewhere along the way, we're enjoying our journey and not worrying so much about what others think or what society says we need to be.
From now on, I hope I can keep that perspective and, instead of judging those I see, love those I see. I have a sneaky feeling that people watching is going to be much better.
Thursday, August 13, 2015
I'd Love to Renovate a House
There. I said it. I think it would be so much fun to buy an older home with sturdy bones that was looking unloved and abandoned and whip it into shape. Renovations can be a pain, I know that. It would be still fun, however, to take something from a run-down status to a thriving space. The only problem? I have this thing called a job. And student loan debt. And I haven't won the lottery yet. But when I do ...
... that whole renovation thing is going to happen.
DIY is awesome.
Turning an old door into a coffee table? Yes, please.
Turning an old dresser into a bench with storage? You betcha!
Making a wood block lamp? Bring it on.
Using old windows as photo frames? Easy!
Turning an old shutter into a bill organize or mail holder? Totally cool.
Using mason jars as hanging lights? Awesome.
And we don't even need to mention the fire pit I've already discussed.
There's something fulfilling about being creative and making something new out of something old. Re-purposing is a better way to say it, I guess.
But you don't re-purpose a house. You RENOVATE. And I would love to do that.
Busting out walls? Fun!
Laying new floors? Exciting!
Shopping for colors and appliances and furnishings? Delightful!
Gutting bathrooms? Cool!
Re-doing a kitchen? Exhilarating!
Demolishing gross cabinets? Awesome!
We're not renovating our house currently, nor do we have plans to buy a home and renovate it any time soon, but one of these days I've GOT to do a renovation. Even if it's only to say I did it, I want to do a renovation.
If you're doing a renovation invite me over, okay? Maybe if I kick in your walls I won't feel the need to do it in a home I own. Deal?
... that whole renovation thing is going to happen.
DIY is awesome.
Turning an old door into a coffee table? Yes, please.
Turning an old dresser into a bench with storage? You betcha!
Making a wood block lamp? Bring it on.
Using old windows as photo frames? Easy!
Turning an old shutter into a bill organize or mail holder? Totally cool.
Using mason jars as hanging lights? Awesome.
And we don't even need to mention the fire pit I've already discussed.
There's something fulfilling about being creative and making something new out of something old. Re-purposing is a better way to say it, I guess.
But you don't re-purpose a house. You RENOVATE. And I would love to do that.
Busting out walls? Fun!
Laying new floors? Exciting!
Shopping for colors and appliances and furnishings? Delightful!
Gutting bathrooms? Cool!
Re-doing a kitchen? Exhilarating!
Demolishing gross cabinets? Awesome!
We're not renovating our house currently, nor do we have plans to buy a home and renovate it any time soon, but one of these days I've GOT to do a renovation. Even if it's only to say I did it, I want to do a renovation.
If you're doing a renovation invite me over, okay? Maybe if I kick in your walls I won't feel the need to do it in a home I own. Deal?
Saturday, August 8, 2015
Did I mention how much I HATE answering phones?
Working in an administrative position you're likely to have to answer phones at some point. In my case, I get a few calls during the week for those I support, but other than that it's fairly quiet ... except on Fridays. Oh Fridays, how I normally love you, but now don't because of the stupid phone calls!
I cover the phones for another secretary on Fridays so she can have lunch. That 45 minutes to an hour are the worst part of my week - and that is NOT an overstatement. It seems like all the whacky questions come in during that time. All the crazies pick up the phone at once and call me to get answers.
No, I don't know where the temple sends their "special" linens.
No, I don't know how you can reach so-and-so on their personal or home line. (And even if I did, I wouldn't give that information to you!)
No, I don't know who pays for your stake's phones or internet access.
No, I can't see if someone is in their office on the 11th floor when I work on the 4th floor. (Who am I, Houdini?)
No, I don't know what's on the menu at The Lion House.
No, I can't make reservations at The Garden Room.
What can I do? I can hang up on you right now. Honestly, I try to be nice and help people as much as I can, but sometimes, dangit, I just can't do what they're asking. The annoying part of all of it is that they've usually been transferred to me from the general number, and the people answering phones there didn't ask enough questions to find out what the person really wanted or needed. GR! It frustrates me to no end.
Years ago, I used to work as a supervisor in a call center. I would take the escalated calls and try to "make things right" for people calling in with concerns or questions. How in the world did I do that for so many years?! It probably sucked 30 years off of my life doing that job, and I had no clue it was happening. Heaven knows it sucks 30 years off of my life every Friday when those phones get transferred to me.
The ONLY person I call regularly and actually enjoy talking to is my mom. It keeps me sane (as in: awake) for part of my commute home from work. Once I'm done talking to her, I'm good for at least another 24 hours before talking with anyone on the phone. Why? I don't know. Even in high school I didn't like talking on the phone. My sister would talk on the phone for ages to literally anyone when she was in high school. Not me! You couldn't pay me enough money to talk on the phone for very long.
Should we chalk that up to my introversion? Yeah, let's go with that explanation. Just don't make me answer any more phone calls!
I cover the phones for another secretary on Fridays so she can have lunch. That 45 minutes to an hour are the worst part of my week - and that is NOT an overstatement. It seems like all the whacky questions come in during that time. All the crazies pick up the phone at once and call me to get answers.
No, I don't know where the temple sends their "special" linens.
No, I don't know how you can reach so-and-so on their personal or home line. (And even if I did, I wouldn't give that information to you!)
No, I don't know who pays for your stake's phones or internet access.
No, I can't see if someone is in their office on the 11th floor when I work on the 4th floor. (Who am I, Houdini?)
No, I don't know what's on the menu at The Lion House.
No, I can't make reservations at The Garden Room.
What can I do? I can hang up on you right now. Honestly, I try to be nice and help people as much as I can, but sometimes, dangit, I just can't do what they're asking. The annoying part of all of it is that they've usually been transferred to me from the general number, and the people answering phones there didn't ask enough questions to find out what the person really wanted or needed. GR! It frustrates me to no end.
Years ago, I used to work as a supervisor in a call center. I would take the escalated calls and try to "make things right" for people calling in with concerns or questions. How in the world did I do that for so many years?! It probably sucked 30 years off of my life doing that job, and I had no clue it was happening. Heaven knows it sucks 30 years off of my life every Friday when those phones get transferred to me.
The ONLY person I call regularly and actually enjoy talking to is my mom. It keeps me sane (as in: awake) for part of my commute home from work. Once I'm done talking to her, I'm good for at least another 24 hours before talking with anyone on the phone. Why? I don't know. Even in high school I didn't like talking on the phone. My sister would talk on the phone for ages to literally anyone when she was in high school. Not me! You couldn't pay me enough money to talk on the phone for very long.
Should we chalk that up to my introversion? Yeah, let's go with that explanation. Just don't make me answer any more phone calls!
Friday, August 7, 2015
Rain, Rain, Come to Stay
Once upon a time, I went to Europe with my parents. I had just graduated from high school, and Mom was chaperoning a couple of kids from the high school where she worked. I think originally there were supposed to be more kids going on the tour. (Mom had already done a previous eastern European tour with a group of high school kids when I was 14-ish.) She ended up only having two students go (I can't remember the girl's names, but I can see their faces; one was Sidney, but the other ... I can't remember).
Because there were so few students going, my mom asked her sister, Kathi, if she wanted to go. Sure enough, she did! And Kathi then asked her daughter if she wanted to go (yes, of course she did!), and her daughter invited a friend. That made a total of eight of us in our tour group (Mom, Dad, me, Kathi, Kathi's daughter, the daughter's friend, and the two high school students from Mom's school). It was a good group, and we all got along great. Somehow, we also ended up knowing others that went on the trip. We had a lot of fun together and really enjoyed seeing the sights.
We started the tour in England (London), and I loved that place. It rained almost every day we were there. For some people that might be depressing, but it wasn't the rain every day you get in places like Seattle. The rain in London was different; it would drizzle a little in the morning and then let up and turn green and sunny. You could go about your day, have an occasional rainy moment, and be done. At night, it would get drizzly again. It was never overcast enough during the day that it felt depressing. It was more refreshing than anything, and although it was humid, it did cool things off when it got hot. I loved it!
We've had some rainy days this summer - more than usual. It's made for a cooler summer than normal (no 100 degree days in July - what?!), but it's really reminded me of our time in London. It hasn't rained THAT much, but it has rained enough that it's felt a little like a cool European trip. Too bad it wasn't really a cool European trip ....
At least we didn't have to see "another damn castle" with all the rain!
Because there were so few students going, my mom asked her sister, Kathi, if she wanted to go. Sure enough, she did! And Kathi then asked her daughter if she wanted to go (yes, of course she did!), and her daughter invited a friend. That made a total of eight of us in our tour group (Mom, Dad, me, Kathi, Kathi's daughter, the daughter's friend, and the two high school students from Mom's school). It was a good group, and we all got along great. Somehow, we also ended up knowing others that went on the trip. We had a lot of fun together and really enjoyed seeing the sights.
We started the tour in England (London), and I loved that place. It rained almost every day we were there. For some people that might be depressing, but it wasn't the rain every day you get in places like Seattle. The rain in London was different; it would drizzle a little in the morning and then let up and turn green and sunny. You could go about your day, have an occasional rainy moment, and be done. At night, it would get drizzly again. It was never overcast enough during the day that it felt depressing. It was more refreshing than anything, and although it was humid, it did cool things off when it got hot. I loved it!
We've had some rainy days this summer - more than usual. It's made for a cooler summer than normal (no 100 degree days in July - what?!), but it's really reminded me of our time in London. It hasn't rained THAT much, but it has rained enough that it's felt a little like a cool European trip. Too bad it wasn't really a cool European trip ....
At least we didn't have to see "another damn castle" with all the rain!
Thursday, August 6, 2015
Abandonment Issues?
When I was a kid, I always wanted to go where my mom and dad went. If they were having a Friday night card night with Huffs and Leifsons, I wanted to be there. If they were going on a date, I wanted to go. If there was a trip to the store, I wanted in. It didn't matter where they were going, I wanted to be with them.
It continued as I got older. I loved to have sleepovers with friends, but they worked out best when the friends came to my house. Sometimes I could make it through the night sleeping at Shauna's house (which was just around the corner, and through the backyard fence), but even then I usually sneaked home early to say hi to Dad before he left for work. One particular time, I sneaked home to find the doors locked (Dad forgot to unlock them for me when he got up). Instead of bothering the family by knocking, I waited outside in the front yard on the swing set. I stubbed my toe as I came home that morning and sat with it bleeding and gross until Dad opened the front door for me. He actually brought the Band-Aids and Neosporin outside and fixed me up as I sat on the swing. Once he was done with that and we'd had a hug, I went back over to Shauna's and sneaked back up on to the deck and pretended I'd been there the entire night. I don't know if anyone was the wiser or not, but it was the only way to keep my sanity.
There were other times I had problems, too. I remember sleeping over at my cousin, Kandice's, house one particular night. For whatever reason, I was convinced there would be a fire or a break in or something wrong at my house that I stressed myself out completely. It was around 1:00 a.m. that I finally got the nerve to go into my Uncle Mark and Aunt Laurel's room to ask if they'd take me home. Mom and Dad were probably not too happy about the call in the middle of the night saying I was coming home, but they never said anything to me about it. Mom did take time the next day to reassure me that nothing bad was going to happen to them just because I slept over at a friend's house.
Later, when we have moved homes and I had grown up a little, there were many times my parents were going some place and asked me if I wanted to come. (They were likely so used to having me around it probably felt weird for them to not have me tagging along.) Anyway, I was trying to assert my independence and said that I didn't want to go. They asked again, and I declined. They let me be a "big girl" and left on their own.
I sat on the couch and cried practically the entire time they were gone because I had chosen not to go with them, to be with them, or to spend time with them.
This happened more than once. Much more than once. It went on until I was well into my teens. Pathetic, right?
A psychologist or psychiatrist might say I have abandonment issues. Maybe I do, maybe I don't. What I do know is that I had a fear of losing the people most important to me. When we lost Dad to Parkinson's and Diabetes and a massive stroke, it was awful. But I survived. That was an important lesson to learn at his passing. I still struggle though.
Several years ago, before Dad died, I traveled to the Washington DC are to visit Shauna and her family. It was something like a two-and-a-half week trip. It was totally amazing, and I loved every minute of it! But I was so home sick the whole time. I missed Mom and Dad and Bear. I worried about being killed on the plane ride home. I feared for bad things that might happen to Mom and Dad while I was gone. It was worry and fear over things I couldn't control. How is that rational?
Anyone else have weird things that might be considered "abandonment issues?" I think I'm a healthy, thriving adult with a fairly good grasp on life. Maybe not?
It continued as I got older. I loved to have sleepovers with friends, but they worked out best when the friends came to my house. Sometimes I could make it through the night sleeping at Shauna's house (which was just around the corner, and through the backyard fence), but even then I usually sneaked home early to say hi to Dad before he left for work. One particular time, I sneaked home to find the doors locked (Dad forgot to unlock them for me when he got up). Instead of bothering the family by knocking, I waited outside in the front yard on the swing set. I stubbed my toe as I came home that morning and sat with it bleeding and gross until Dad opened the front door for me. He actually brought the Band-Aids and Neosporin outside and fixed me up as I sat on the swing. Once he was done with that and we'd had a hug, I went back over to Shauna's and sneaked back up on to the deck and pretended I'd been there the entire night. I don't know if anyone was the wiser or not, but it was the only way to keep my sanity.
There were other times I had problems, too. I remember sleeping over at my cousin, Kandice's, house one particular night. For whatever reason, I was convinced there would be a fire or a break in or something wrong at my house that I stressed myself out completely. It was around 1:00 a.m. that I finally got the nerve to go into my Uncle Mark and Aunt Laurel's room to ask if they'd take me home. Mom and Dad were probably not too happy about the call in the middle of the night saying I was coming home, but they never said anything to me about it. Mom did take time the next day to reassure me that nothing bad was going to happen to them just because I slept over at a friend's house.
Later, when we have moved homes and I had grown up a little, there were many times my parents were going some place and asked me if I wanted to come. (They were likely so used to having me around it probably felt weird for them to not have me tagging along.) Anyway, I was trying to assert my independence and said that I didn't want to go. They asked again, and I declined. They let me be a "big girl" and left on their own.
I sat on the couch and cried practically the entire time they were gone because I had chosen not to go with them, to be with them, or to spend time with them.
This happened more than once. Much more than once. It went on until I was well into my teens. Pathetic, right?
A psychologist or psychiatrist might say I have abandonment issues. Maybe I do, maybe I don't. What I do know is that I had a fear of losing the people most important to me. When we lost Dad to Parkinson's and Diabetes and a massive stroke, it was awful. But I survived. That was an important lesson to learn at his passing. I still struggle though.
Several years ago, before Dad died, I traveled to the Washington DC are to visit Shauna and her family. It was something like a two-and-a-half week trip. It was totally amazing, and I loved every minute of it! But I was so home sick the whole time. I missed Mom and Dad and Bear. I worried about being killed on the plane ride home. I feared for bad things that might happen to Mom and Dad while I was gone. It was worry and fear over things I couldn't control. How is that rational?
Anyone else have weird things that might be considered "abandonment issues?" I think I'm a healthy, thriving adult with a fairly good grasp on life. Maybe not?
Friday, July 31, 2015
Personal Space
Part of my introversion includes a need for personal space. The amount of personal space needed varies on environment and mood. If I'm comfortable with you and we're friends, the amount of personal space needed gets smaller. It's also a fairly small space with family, as long as I'm in a comfortable situation and nobody is being confrontational.
Here's the thing though. Personal space is not just a perimeter of space around me or my body. It's also about "things" - as in my personal property. For example, one of my nieces lived with us for a time. When she was the only one at home, she would go into my room and look through my things. Weirdly, I'm very observant and know exactly how I left things when I left a room. Because of that, I always knew when someone had been through my things. They were ... different, in a different place, adjusted slightly, etc., and I could tell they had been touched or moved. As a non-confrontational person, I realized the only way to stop the problem with my niece was to address it. When I did, however, she simply denied she'd been in my room. Without any proof (because nobody was home when she would go in my room), it was difficult for Mom and Dad to "punish" her for her actions. And I was left looking like a crazy person.
Similar things have happened since that niece lived with us. People have gone through my cabinets in the bathroom, helped themselves to floss and Q-tips and hair styling products, and rummaged through whatever else they wanted. If you're not an introvert or things like that don't bother you, it's hard to describe the feeling that overcomes you when others intrude in your "personal space."
It feels like I've been violated.
That's about the only way I can describe what it feels like. Imagine how you would feel if someone broke into your home and destroyed your things or stole something important to you. That's never happened to be, but I imagine it's a very similar feeling to what I feel when others invade my personal space or go through my things. My necessary "bubble" now has holes popped in it, and I feel like the clean air I once thrived on has turned to muddy sewage, and I'm now drowning in it.
Seems dramatic, right? Well, unless you've been there, you don't know.
Now, lest people think I'm just being selfish, I should clarify that if someone needs something and asks me for it, and I have it in my possession, I will 99.999% of the time give it to them to use or have. I find it very polite and thoughtful when someone asks. Even if I don't want to give it to them, I probably would anyway because they were thoughtful and polite enough to ask me for it.
On the other hand, when people feel entitled or owed or whatever and take/use my things without asking, I feel violated and immediately become defensive. I don't know how else to explain it. I think, however, that it has something to do with being an introvert because I feel very protective of me and my things. After all, a person works hard to buy, gain, get what they have. To have my valuables taken away (or dismissed as being not-so-valuable to someone else) makes me feel as if my hard work, efforts, time, energy, etc. are worthless. Normally, I don't care much about what others think of me, but devaluing my belongings or taking my things feels like a judgment on my opinions and thoughts.
As another way of explaining it, a nephew recently stayed with us and twice during his stay I found a big chunk removed from my hair product. Since I remove the product in a leveling way (it helps me "measure" how much I have so I know about how long it will last), I knew who had been in my hair product. It wasn't Mom!
Silly, right? To me it said, "You picked a hair product good enough for me to use, but not good enough that I need to ask you in order to use as much as I want whenever I want." It's not like the product cost a lot or couldn't be replaced, but it is something I have to budget for when considering what items to purchase. I understand with kids and teens that it's more about entitlement. I need it, you have it, therefore it's okay that I use it. Eventually, kids and teens grow out of that phase (we hope!) and realize that working and living paycheck-to-paycheck means you have to budget and someone else using your things puts a kink in your budgetary plans.
But there are adults who don't care. It's happened plenty of times to me. Because adults should "know better", it's like they're walking all over my personal space not caring what or who they step on. It's like saying I'm worth less rather than worthless. Nobody wants to feel that way. Plus, I don't go to other people's homes and use their things without asking. I know how it makes me feel, and I'd never want someone else to feel that way about me.
I think the best thing to do is to give me my personal space. Ask before you use something of mine, and never assume using something of mine is okay just because it's not under lock and key. Maybe it's about respect? I don't know, but personal space is important to introverts, especially, and it's good manners to be mindful of others anyway. And that's just one reason why I need my personal space, m'kay?
Here's the thing though. Personal space is not just a perimeter of space around me or my body. It's also about "things" - as in my personal property. For example, one of my nieces lived with us for a time. When she was the only one at home, she would go into my room and look through my things. Weirdly, I'm very observant and know exactly how I left things when I left a room. Because of that, I always knew when someone had been through my things. They were ... different, in a different place, adjusted slightly, etc., and I could tell they had been touched or moved. As a non-confrontational person, I realized the only way to stop the problem with my niece was to address it. When I did, however, she simply denied she'd been in my room. Without any proof (because nobody was home when she would go in my room), it was difficult for Mom and Dad to "punish" her for her actions. And I was left looking like a crazy person.
Similar things have happened since that niece lived with us. People have gone through my cabinets in the bathroom, helped themselves to floss and Q-tips and hair styling products, and rummaged through whatever else they wanted. If you're not an introvert or things like that don't bother you, it's hard to describe the feeling that overcomes you when others intrude in your "personal space."
It feels like I've been violated.
That's about the only way I can describe what it feels like. Imagine how you would feel if someone broke into your home and destroyed your things or stole something important to you. That's never happened to be, but I imagine it's a very similar feeling to what I feel when others invade my personal space or go through my things. My necessary "bubble" now has holes popped in it, and I feel like the clean air I once thrived on has turned to muddy sewage, and I'm now drowning in it.
Seems dramatic, right? Well, unless you've been there, you don't know.
Now, lest people think I'm just being selfish, I should clarify that if someone needs something and asks me for it, and I have it in my possession, I will 99.999% of the time give it to them to use or have. I find it very polite and thoughtful when someone asks. Even if I don't want to give it to them, I probably would anyway because they were thoughtful and polite enough to ask me for it.
On the other hand, when people feel entitled or owed or whatever and take/use my things without asking, I feel violated and immediately become defensive. I don't know how else to explain it. I think, however, that it has something to do with being an introvert because I feel very protective of me and my things. After all, a person works hard to buy, gain, get what they have. To have my valuables taken away (or dismissed as being not-so-valuable to someone else) makes me feel as if my hard work, efforts, time, energy, etc. are worthless. Normally, I don't care much about what others think of me, but devaluing my belongings or taking my things feels like a judgment on my opinions and thoughts.
As another way of explaining it, a nephew recently stayed with us and twice during his stay I found a big chunk removed from my hair product. Since I remove the product in a leveling way (it helps me "measure" how much I have so I know about how long it will last), I knew who had been in my hair product. It wasn't Mom!
Silly, right? To me it said, "You picked a hair product good enough for me to use, but not good enough that I need to ask you in order to use as much as I want whenever I want." It's not like the product cost a lot or couldn't be replaced, but it is something I have to budget for when considering what items to purchase. I understand with kids and teens that it's more about entitlement. I need it, you have it, therefore it's okay that I use it. Eventually, kids and teens grow out of that phase (we hope!) and realize that working and living paycheck-to-paycheck means you have to budget and someone else using your things puts a kink in your budgetary plans.
But there are adults who don't care. It's happened plenty of times to me. Because adults should "know better", it's like they're walking all over my personal space not caring what or who they step on. It's like saying I'm worth less rather than worthless. Nobody wants to feel that way. Plus, I don't go to other people's homes and use their things without asking. I know how it makes me feel, and I'd never want someone else to feel that way about me.
I think the best thing to do is to give me my personal space. Ask before you use something of mine, and never assume using something of mine is okay just because it's not under lock and key. Maybe it's about respect? I don't know, but personal space is important to introverts, especially, and it's good manners to be mindful of others anyway. And that's just one reason why I need my personal space, m'kay?
Thursday, July 30, 2015
Broken Bones and Stitches
Age: 5
Date: Summer
Place: Good ol' Spanish Fork
The weather was warm, but it was also wet and rainy. That means it was near or during monsoon season. School hadn't started yet, so my guess is this all occurred in August of 1982. It should be more fresh considering what happened.
Shauna and I (and another friend, whose name I think was Trina, but don't quote me on that) went over to Bishop Lamb's house (next door neighbor to Shauna). The Lamb's had a cool backyard where their garden thrived and they had several apple trees. It was in one of these apple trees that we decided to swing after a rain storm.
Yeah, geniuses. I know.
I think everyone else went first and had a turn. It came to me, so I got the "peer pressure" from others to just do it. I wiggled my way out on the limb; it was a sturdy limb, but fairly high off the ground and on a hill. I was facing east with the hill falling to the west and began to swing. It took a few tries, but I finally started to get going.
That's when my hands became a bit too wet, and as I swung back my fingers couldn't hang on. My grasp quickly loosened and dropped me to the moist grass under the tree. As I hit the ground, my right arm slammed into the grass, followed quickly by my left arm and then my head meeting with both wrists as they crashed into each other a second time.
The pain! It was searing and hot. Tears immediately came to my eyes, but the fall had knocked the wind out of me, so my open mouth was silent. The girls in the tree said, "Whoa! No way! Holy cow!" And then Shauna said, "Katie? Katie! Are you okay?" Next thing I knew, she was out of the tree helping me off the ground, and we walked around the corner to my house with me crying the entire way and screaming if anyone tried to touch me.
When we got to my house, Shauna took me inside. My sister, Lisa, was the only one home at the time. She was supposed to be watching me, I think. In her usual fashion, she was talking on the phone as we came in the house and basically told me to shut up so she could hear her phone conversation. Shauna and I went into the family, where we sat for nearly an hour as I sporadically cried and moaned. After nearly an hour, Mom came home to me still sobbing and Lisa still on the phone. Mom chewed Lisa out for talking on the phone, demanded she hang up NOW, and checked in on me. I screamed bloody murder when Mom tried to touch my arms to see what was wrong.
The next thing I remember, we were at Dr. Judd's office and I was having my right arm put in a cast up past my elbow. I'd had x-rays which showed a break in the wrist and was told I'd be in that cast for 6-8 weeks. The left arm seemed to be okay for the moment. I don't remember much after that when we got home, but I'm pretty sure Lisa got in serious trouble, and I crashed on Mom and Dad's water bed.
A week later, I was still in pain and complaining to Mom. Out of exhaustion (I'm sure) she took me back to Dr. Judd's office. More x-rays indicated there was also a break in my left wrist. Another cast was put on my left arm up to my elbow, and we were sent on our way. I'm sure I was a sight to see.
But that's not the end of the story.
Oh, no. We don't do things the easy way around our house.
About a week or so after the second cast was put on, Shauna wanted to ride bikes. Dr. Judd told Mom there was to be absolutely no bike riding, skateboarding, or other "dangerous" activities while I had the casts on. We were wrapping them in old sandwich bags during bath time and being extremely cautious about keeping them clean. But what's a five-year-old to do? I mean, it's summer, for Pete's sake! Who wants to keep their kid cooped up during that time when they can be outside playing and out of their parent's hair?
So we got on the bikes. We started at the top of the block near my house where a hill started that was both big enough and small enough for a five-year-old. And then we began to race. I made it swiftly past our neighbor's house, past my house, and almost past the other neighbor's house when a van began pulling in the parking lot of the church on the opposite corner of the block at the end of the hill. Suddenly, I seemed to forget how to use the bike breaks, and I plowed into the neighbor's fence that separated their home from the church parking lot.
With the front wheel of my bike stuck in the fence and a cast on each arm, I had nowhere to go but down and no way to protect myself in the fall. Thankfully, I leaned to the left and landed face-first in the neighbor's grass. Phew! Right?
No. As I said, we don't do things the easy way.
I was stuck. And by I, I mean my bottom teeth. My teeth were stuck in the grass and there was no way for me to get out on my own. As much as I could, I tried to scream. It was a muffled sound. Who knew grass was such a good sound barrier? Anyway, Shauna had run to the neighbor's door and asked for help. Next thing I know, the pony tail in the center of my head has become the gripping device used to yank my face from the grass.
Somebody walked my bike home, bent wheel and all, and I was walked home to Mom where she took one look at my teeth and put me in the car to go to the dentist. After everything I'd been through, you'd think the dentist would have been more sympathetic. Is that even in their job description?
My bottom two front teeth were yanked, and the grass was dug out of the other two teeth next to those. My mouth was a bloody, painful mess - the perfect match to my still-painful and swollen arms. What a sight!
To make matters worse, Kindergarten started only a couple of weeks after that. You should have seen me trying to learn how to write with dysfunctional fingers, how to say the Pledge of Allegiance by using my somewhat mobile left arm to raise my completely inept right arm up to my heart, and how to "play" with the others kids when every time I turned around I practically took one of them out with one of my heavy casts. Plus, you know, my smile was already missing two teeth when most of the other kids hadn't even lost one.
That's a killer look for a five-year-old. It definitely added to self-esteem and increased capacity to make friends at school.
Yeesh.
It's a miracle I'm any kind of normal.
You're welcome.
Date: Summer
Place: Good ol' Spanish Fork
The weather was warm, but it was also wet and rainy. That means it was near or during monsoon season. School hadn't started yet, so my guess is this all occurred in August of 1982. It should be more fresh considering what happened.
Shauna and I (and another friend, whose name I think was Trina, but don't quote me on that) went over to Bishop Lamb's house (next door neighbor to Shauna). The Lamb's had a cool backyard where their garden thrived and they had several apple trees. It was in one of these apple trees that we decided to swing after a rain storm.
Yeah, geniuses. I know.
I think everyone else went first and had a turn. It came to me, so I got the "peer pressure" from others to just do it. I wiggled my way out on the limb; it was a sturdy limb, but fairly high off the ground and on a hill. I was facing east with the hill falling to the west and began to swing. It took a few tries, but I finally started to get going.
That's when my hands became a bit too wet, and as I swung back my fingers couldn't hang on. My grasp quickly loosened and dropped me to the moist grass under the tree. As I hit the ground, my right arm slammed into the grass, followed quickly by my left arm and then my head meeting with both wrists as they crashed into each other a second time.
The pain! It was searing and hot. Tears immediately came to my eyes, but the fall had knocked the wind out of me, so my open mouth was silent. The girls in the tree said, "Whoa! No way! Holy cow!" And then Shauna said, "Katie? Katie! Are you okay?" Next thing I knew, she was out of the tree helping me off the ground, and we walked around the corner to my house with me crying the entire way and screaming if anyone tried to touch me.
When we got to my house, Shauna took me inside. My sister, Lisa, was the only one home at the time. She was supposed to be watching me, I think. In her usual fashion, she was talking on the phone as we came in the house and basically told me to shut up so she could hear her phone conversation. Shauna and I went into the family, where we sat for nearly an hour as I sporadically cried and moaned. After nearly an hour, Mom came home to me still sobbing and Lisa still on the phone. Mom chewed Lisa out for talking on the phone, demanded she hang up NOW, and checked in on me. I screamed bloody murder when Mom tried to touch my arms to see what was wrong.
The next thing I remember, we were at Dr. Judd's office and I was having my right arm put in a cast up past my elbow. I'd had x-rays which showed a break in the wrist and was told I'd be in that cast for 6-8 weeks. The left arm seemed to be okay for the moment. I don't remember much after that when we got home, but I'm pretty sure Lisa got in serious trouble, and I crashed on Mom and Dad's water bed.
A week later, I was still in pain and complaining to Mom. Out of exhaustion (I'm sure) she took me back to Dr. Judd's office. More x-rays indicated there was also a break in my left wrist. Another cast was put on my left arm up to my elbow, and we were sent on our way. I'm sure I was a sight to see.
But that's not the end of the story.
Oh, no. We don't do things the easy way around our house.
About a week or so after the second cast was put on, Shauna wanted to ride bikes. Dr. Judd told Mom there was to be absolutely no bike riding, skateboarding, or other "dangerous" activities while I had the casts on. We were wrapping them in old sandwich bags during bath time and being extremely cautious about keeping them clean. But what's a five-year-old to do? I mean, it's summer, for Pete's sake! Who wants to keep their kid cooped up during that time when they can be outside playing and out of their parent's hair?
So we got on the bikes. We started at the top of the block near my house where a hill started that was both big enough and small enough for a five-year-old. And then we began to race. I made it swiftly past our neighbor's house, past my house, and almost past the other neighbor's house when a van began pulling in the parking lot of the church on the opposite corner of the block at the end of the hill. Suddenly, I seemed to forget how to use the bike breaks, and I plowed into the neighbor's fence that separated their home from the church parking lot.
With the front wheel of my bike stuck in the fence and a cast on each arm, I had nowhere to go but down and no way to protect myself in the fall. Thankfully, I leaned to the left and landed face-first in the neighbor's grass. Phew! Right?
No. As I said, we don't do things the easy way.
I was stuck. And by I, I mean my bottom teeth. My teeth were stuck in the grass and there was no way for me to get out on my own. As much as I could, I tried to scream. It was a muffled sound. Who knew grass was such a good sound barrier? Anyway, Shauna had run to the neighbor's door and asked for help. Next thing I know, the pony tail in the center of my head has become the gripping device used to yank my face from the grass.
Somebody walked my bike home, bent wheel and all, and I was walked home to Mom where she took one look at my teeth and put me in the car to go to the dentist. After everything I'd been through, you'd think the dentist would have been more sympathetic. Is that even in their job description?
My bottom two front teeth were yanked, and the grass was dug out of the other two teeth next to those. My mouth was a bloody, painful mess - the perfect match to my still-painful and swollen arms. What a sight!
To make matters worse, Kindergarten started only a couple of weeks after that. You should have seen me trying to learn how to write with dysfunctional fingers, how to say the Pledge of Allegiance by using my somewhat mobile left arm to raise my completely inept right arm up to my heart, and how to "play" with the others kids when every time I turned around I practically took one of them out with one of my heavy casts. Plus, you know, my smile was already missing two teeth when most of the other kids hadn't even lost one.
That's a killer look for a five-year-old. It definitely added to self-esteem and increased capacity to make friends at school.
Yeesh.
It's a miracle I'm any kind of normal.
You're welcome.
Friday, July 10, 2015
Grammar Lessons
My mom was a middle and high school English teacher for years. Something like 23 years to be more exact. On family road trips we would play word games as we drove. It was a time before iPads and electronic devices could keep you bombarded at every turn (thank goodness!). We were corrected at home on proper grammar usage. We were tested on our spelling words. We understood homonyms, homophones, synonyms, and antonyms. We were taught the difference between metaphors and similes. We learned when to capitalize high school and when not to, and we learned why it mattered. It was important to my mom that we understood basic principles of the English language so that we could not only speak correctly, but write correctly as well. In other words, my parents wanted us to be an educated family - one that loved to learn and continued to learn throughout life.
For many years, I thought I, too, would like to be an English teacher. That was before I realized "babysitting" other people's kids all day was not something I'd enjoy doing, whether I got paid for it or not. That realization, however, did not deter me from continuing to use proper English and avoid common grammatical errors. People make major mistakes in their writing, especially on social media (it's awful!), so I thought I'd go over some basic grammar lessons in this post as a reminder (mostly to myself) that I still understand and know the basic principles of the English language. Mostly, this post is to show Mom how much I appreciate her instruction and to let her know I "got it" even when she thought I probably wasn't listen or didn't get anything out of it.
Your and you're - people misuse these SO often, and it drives me crazy.
Your is possessive. "I like your hair style." "Would you like your meal warmed?" "Your car is so clean!" Use your when trying to show possession.
You're is a contraction of you and are. "Mom said you're going to the mall." "If you're going to the store, may I come with you?" "You're so amazing!" You're can only be substituted in place of you are.
Their, there, and they're - I can't even explain the number of people that misuse these on a regular basis.
Their is possessive (like your). "May I go to their house?" "This is their car." "We've been to their cabin before." Use their when trying to showing possession.
There is a place. "Have you been there before?" "Can we go there for lunch?" "I was there when I was five." Any time a destination is involved use there.
They're is another contraction of they are. "They're going to the movies." "They're your friends, right?" "They're unbelievable!" They're can only be substituted in place of they are.
Anxious v. Eager - this is misused so often that people have started using the words interchangeably, and they don't mean the same thing!
Anxious usually has a negative connotation. "I'm anxious about my upcoming math test." "This is the first time I've cooked this meal, and it made me a little bit anxious." You could be anxious to go on a trip, but only if you are feeling some trepidation about the travel or the place you would stay, etc.
Eager has less of a negative connotation. "I'm eager about my upcoming trip." "I'm eager to get the results of my driving test." Eager fits more along the lines of excited and should be used as a way to express that you're looking forward to something.
You and I v. You and Me (or Me and You) - these are incredibly misused, and it's becoming more commonplace all the time to use them incorrectly. Honestly, people sound stupid when they misuse them. I find myself falling into the casual trap and misusing them sometimes, and I want to punch myself in the face for it. I'm to the point now that I correct myself when I misuse them in the hopes that others will catch on to the incorrect usage.
The easiest way for me to explain this concept is to give an example of why a certain usage is incorrect. "Will you join Bob and me for dinner?" You wouldn't ask, "Will you join I for dinner?" No! You wouldn't! And if you would, stop it! That's the correct usage of you and me. Here's another. "You and I should go to the movie this week." You would not say, "Me should go to the movie this week." Instead, you would say, "I should go to the movie this week", and because of that you would say, "You and I" and not "You and me." Make sense? That's the easiest way (for me) to tell whether or not I'm using the phrase correctly. Does it make sense to use the phrase you and I, or should I use you and me? Use them both in the question or sentence and that will help determine which you should use.
Anyway - please never say anywayS! It's just ... wrong. Saying something like, "Anyways, I'm going to ...." is annoying and makes you sound stupid. Instead, use the word anyway (singular). It's proper and won't make you sound like a hick from the sticks.
Ignorant v. Rude - these are not the same, no matter how much you think they are or how many times you have used them interchangeably.
Ignorant means that a person doesn't know something. If you are ignorant about Mexico, you know little (or nothing) about it's cultural, ethnicity, people, customs, etc. If someone says, "Bill is so ignorant because he called me a jerk," that would be incorrect usage of the word. Bill calling you a jerk makes him rude. If Bill has never been to Mexico and tries to talk about the subject intellectually he is ignorant. His "knowledge" about the matter would likely be based on assumptions or things that others have told him, not based on personal knowledge from being in the country or reading factual material.
Rude is a different animal. If you belch at the dinner table in America, that's rude. If you're from Japan (I think it's Japan anyway; I'll have to verify the country and culture) where belching at the table is considered a compliment to the cook, and you were visiting America for the first time with no foreknowledge about the country, and you belched at the dinner table, you could potentially be considered both rude and ignorant. You would be rude because belching at the dinner table is considered bad manners in America, and you would be ignorant because you didn't know/learn enough about the country to understand table manners. See the difference? There IS a difference, I promise.
Nauseous v. Nauseated - oh my, this one is a problem for many people. Unfortunately, many people also don't realize they are demeaning themselves when they use one incorrectly.
Nauseous is something you feel because you are affected with nausea. For example, to some people the smell of popcorn cooking is nauseating. It can cause nausea, therefore, popcorn cooking is a nauseous smell for some. If you say you are nauseous, you admit that you affect yourself with nausea. (You make yourself sick, in other words. Not likely true ....)
Nauseated is when you feel sick because you have the flu or ate something funny. The proper thing to say when you feel sick is, "I feel nauseated." Avoid saying, "I feel nauseous" as it will indicate you don't feel well because you make yourself sick.
That is your grammar lesson for today, kids! I hope you will find it helpful and use it to sound (and write!) smarter. And if you find yourself in a lurch, just "wow" people by telling them the longest single-word palindrome in the English language: redivider. Bam!
For many years, I thought I, too, would like to be an English teacher. That was before I realized "babysitting" other people's kids all day was not something I'd enjoy doing, whether I got paid for it or not. That realization, however, did not deter me from continuing to use proper English and avoid common grammatical errors. People make major mistakes in their writing, especially on social media (it's awful!), so I thought I'd go over some basic grammar lessons in this post as a reminder (mostly to myself) that I still understand and know the basic principles of the English language. Mostly, this post is to show Mom how much I appreciate her instruction and to let her know I "got it" even when she thought I probably wasn't listen or didn't get anything out of it.
Your and you're - people misuse these SO often, and it drives me crazy.
Your is possessive. "I like your hair style." "Would you like your meal warmed?" "Your car is so clean!" Use your when trying to show possession.
You're is a contraction of you and are. "Mom said you're going to the mall." "If you're going to the store, may I come with you?" "You're so amazing!" You're can only be substituted in place of you are.
Their, there, and they're - I can't even explain the number of people that misuse these on a regular basis.
Their is possessive (like your). "May I go to their house?" "This is their car." "We've been to their cabin before." Use their when trying to showing possession.
There is a place. "Have you been there before?" "Can we go there for lunch?" "I was there when I was five." Any time a destination is involved use there.
They're is another contraction of they are. "They're going to the movies." "They're your friends, right?" "They're unbelievable!" They're can only be substituted in place of they are.
Anxious v. Eager - this is misused so often that people have started using the words interchangeably, and they don't mean the same thing!
Anxious usually has a negative connotation. "I'm anxious about my upcoming math test." "This is the first time I've cooked this meal, and it made me a little bit anxious." You could be anxious to go on a trip, but only if you are feeling some trepidation about the travel or the place you would stay, etc.
Eager has less of a negative connotation. "I'm eager about my upcoming trip." "I'm eager to get the results of my driving test." Eager fits more along the lines of excited and should be used as a way to express that you're looking forward to something.
You and I v. You and Me (or Me and You) - these are incredibly misused, and it's becoming more commonplace all the time to use them incorrectly. Honestly, people sound stupid when they misuse them. I find myself falling into the casual trap and misusing them sometimes, and I want to punch myself in the face for it. I'm to the point now that I correct myself when I misuse them in the hopes that others will catch on to the incorrect usage.
The easiest way for me to explain this concept is to give an example of why a certain usage is incorrect. "Will you join Bob and me for dinner?" You wouldn't ask, "Will you join I for dinner?" No! You wouldn't! And if you would, stop it! That's the correct usage of you and me. Here's another. "You and I should go to the movie this week." You would not say, "Me should go to the movie this week." Instead, you would say, "I should go to the movie this week", and because of that you would say, "You and I" and not "You and me." Make sense? That's the easiest way (for me) to tell whether or not I'm using the phrase correctly. Does it make sense to use the phrase you and I, or should I use you and me? Use them both in the question or sentence and that will help determine which you should use.
Anyway - please never say anywayS! It's just ... wrong. Saying something like, "Anyways, I'm going to ...." is annoying and makes you sound stupid. Instead, use the word anyway (singular). It's proper and won't make you sound like a hick from the sticks.
Ignorant v. Rude - these are not the same, no matter how much you think they are or how many times you have used them interchangeably.
Ignorant means that a person doesn't know something. If you are ignorant about Mexico, you know little (or nothing) about it's cultural, ethnicity, people, customs, etc. If someone says, "Bill is so ignorant because he called me a jerk," that would be incorrect usage of the word. Bill calling you a jerk makes him rude. If Bill has never been to Mexico and tries to talk about the subject intellectually he is ignorant. His "knowledge" about the matter would likely be based on assumptions or things that others have told him, not based on personal knowledge from being in the country or reading factual material.
Rude is a different animal. If you belch at the dinner table in America, that's rude. If you're from Japan (I think it's Japan anyway; I'll have to verify the country and culture) where belching at the table is considered a compliment to the cook, and you were visiting America for the first time with no foreknowledge about the country, and you belched at the dinner table, you could potentially be considered both rude and ignorant. You would be rude because belching at the dinner table is considered bad manners in America, and you would be ignorant because you didn't know/learn enough about the country to understand table manners. See the difference? There IS a difference, I promise.
Nauseous v. Nauseated - oh my, this one is a problem for many people. Unfortunately, many people also don't realize they are demeaning themselves when they use one incorrectly.
Nauseous is something you feel because you are affected with nausea. For example, to some people the smell of popcorn cooking is nauseating. It can cause nausea, therefore, popcorn cooking is a nauseous smell for some. If you say you are nauseous, you admit that you affect yourself with nausea. (You make yourself sick, in other words. Not likely true ....)
Nauseated is when you feel sick because you have the flu or ate something funny. The proper thing to say when you feel sick is, "I feel nauseated." Avoid saying, "I feel nauseous" as it will indicate you don't feel well because you make yourself sick.
That is your grammar lesson for today, kids! I hope you will find it helpful and use it to sound (and write!) smarter. And if you find yourself in a lurch, just "wow" people by telling them the longest single-word palindrome in the English language: redivider. Bam!
Saturday, July 4, 2015
America the Beautiful
Every Monday morning at work we have a brief devotional. The devotional includes a hymn, a spiritual thought, and a prayer for our efforts and work in the coming week. It lasts maybe 15 minutes, and it's a great way to start the week. I enjoy the fact that everyone gets an opportunity to share some of their personal experiences along with their testimony about a gospel principle. You can't do that at every workplace!
On Monday of this week, a gentleman gave the thought. He talked about President Wilford Woodruff's experience in the St. George Temple where he was visited by the writers of the Declaration of Independence and they asked President Woodruff why their temple work had not yet been done. It was an eye-opener for President Woodruff, and he immediately went to work on having their temple ordinances completed. One of the points this co-worker was trying to make is that if we hadn't had such great leaders at the foundation of this country, like those who wrote and signed the Declaration of Independence, the way would not have been opened for Joseph Smith to restore the gospel in its fullness back to the earth. Events needed to happen in a certain order and freedoms needed to be established so that the gospel could be restored in a land where people's agency was considered a blessing and a priority rather than an inconvenience.
At the end of the devotional thought, this gentleman asked that we sing "America the Beautiful." I was asked to lead the music. When we came to the second verse, I teared up as we sang the phrase: "God men thine ev'ry flaw." Why? Because last weekend, on June 26, there was a 5 to 4 vote for the legalization of same gender marriage.
When the verdict came, I was at work and felt devastated. As much as I had hoped and prayed that the Supreme Court would recognize marriage between one man and one woman as the only viable way to protect and grow our society, I think I knew deep in my heart that the outcome would be in favor of same gender marriage. As much as I love my gay friends and family members, I do not condone, believe in, or accept same gender marriage as "the law of the land." It is not an issue of having the same rights either, although media sources have presented it as an issue of equality.
Now is not the time to voice my full opinion on the matter. I guess if people want to know my opinion they can ask and then we can have an open and respectful discussion about why I believe what I believe. If it can't be an open and respectful conversation, I don't want to have it - regardless of whether other's opinions agree with me or not.
Anyway, the reason I teared up while singing the hymn was because I realized that, even though I don't agree with the ruling, I do know and understand that God is in charge. Heavenly Father knows what will happen, and He understands the timing. He also provided us a book (The Book of Mormon) to help us avoid past mistakes. Sometimes we will avoid them; other times (like now) we won't avoid them. It is important to recognize in all things that Heavenly Father still allows us our agency. Unfortunately, it is the minority of us that are using our agency right now, and that's why laws have passed that will further deteriorate our country and society. It is also those laws that will impact God's eternal plan of happiness for us all and, try as they might, destroy the eternal family unit as we know it.
So when I sang "God mend thine ev'ry flaw" in that hymn it evoked an emotional response to something I've pleaded for in my heart for years. I pray that God will continue to grant his grace to us as a country because of and in spite of the minority "votes" that seem to matter so much these days. I pray that God will mend our country's every flaw and help us learn to listen to His voice and return to His way of living. I pray that we will not only read The Book of Mormon regularly, but that we will learn from those of previous generations and not make the same mistakes by slowly (or quickly) accepting and tolerating laws that are not God's laws. It was the end of an entire population of people; may it not be the end of us.
And may my gay friends and family members know how much I love them, how much I care about them, and how much I want the very best for them - in every aspect of life. Along with that, may they also understand that I love my Heavenly Father and my Savior, Jesus Christ, and Their love and laws will always be more important to me than anything else, including the opinion of those I love and care about. That's the way it should be if we really, truly want to live with Heavenly Father again. And I do want to live with Him again. Forever. May our "ev'ry flaw" be mended by the One and Only person who can.
On this day especially, July 4th, a day of independence and freedom, I honor those who have come before, who paved the way for my freedoms, and who helped bring about the restored gospel to this earth. I also honor God's laws and God's ways which allow me to not only have, but the ability to use, my own agency. It is a great Plan of Happiness we are living in, even when there are laws affecting my country that I don't agree with. Heavenly Father is still in charge, and I'm more than okay with that.
On Monday of this week, a gentleman gave the thought. He talked about President Wilford Woodruff's experience in the St. George Temple where he was visited by the writers of the Declaration of Independence and they asked President Woodruff why their temple work had not yet been done. It was an eye-opener for President Woodruff, and he immediately went to work on having their temple ordinances completed. One of the points this co-worker was trying to make is that if we hadn't had such great leaders at the foundation of this country, like those who wrote and signed the Declaration of Independence, the way would not have been opened for Joseph Smith to restore the gospel in its fullness back to the earth. Events needed to happen in a certain order and freedoms needed to be established so that the gospel could be restored in a land where people's agency was considered a blessing and a priority rather than an inconvenience.
At the end of the devotional thought, this gentleman asked that we sing "America the Beautiful." I was asked to lead the music. When we came to the second verse, I teared up as we sang the phrase: "God men thine ev'ry flaw." Why? Because last weekend, on June 26, there was a 5 to 4 vote for the legalization of same gender marriage.
When the verdict came, I was at work and felt devastated. As much as I had hoped and prayed that the Supreme Court would recognize marriage between one man and one woman as the only viable way to protect and grow our society, I think I knew deep in my heart that the outcome would be in favor of same gender marriage. As much as I love my gay friends and family members, I do not condone, believe in, or accept same gender marriage as "the law of the land." It is not an issue of having the same rights either, although media sources have presented it as an issue of equality.
Now is not the time to voice my full opinion on the matter. I guess if people want to know my opinion they can ask and then we can have an open and respectful discussion about why I believe what I believe. If it can't be an open and respectful conversation, I don't want to have it - regardless of whether other's opinions agree with me or not.
Anyway, the reason I teared up while singing the hymn was because I realized that, even though I don't agree with the ruling, I do know and understand that God is in charge. Heavenly Father knows what will happen, and He understands the timing. He also provided us a book (The Book of Mormon) to help us avoid past mistakes. Sometimes we will avoid them; other times (like now) we won't avoid them. It is important to recognize in all things that Heavenly Father still allows us our agency. Unfortunately, it is the minority of us that are using our agency right now, and that's why laws have passed that will further deteriorate our country and society. It is also those laws that will impact God's eternal plan of happiness for us all and, try as they might, destroy the eternal family unit as we know it.
So when I sang "God mend thine ev'ry flaw" in that hymn it evoked an emotional response to something I've pleaded for in my heart for years. I pray that God will continue to grant his grace to us as a country because of and in spite of the minority "votes" that seem to matter so much these days. I pray that God will mend our country's every flaw and help us learn to listen to His voice and return to His way of living. I pray that we will not only read The Book of Mormon regularly, but that we will learn from those of previous generations and not make the same mistakes by slowly (or quickly) accepting and tolerating laws that are not God's laws. It was the end of an entire population of people; may it not be the end of us.
And may my gay friends and family members know how much I love them, how much I care about them, and how much I want the very best for them - in every aspect of life. Along with that, may they also understand that I love my Heavenly Father and my Savior, Jesus Christ, and Their love and laws will always be more important to me than anything else, including the opinion of those I love and care about. That's the way it should be if we really, truly want to live with Heavenly Father again. And I do want to live with Him again. Forever. May our "ev'ry flaw" be mended by the One and Only person who can.
On this day especially, July 4th, a day of independence and freedom, I honor those who have come before, who paved the way for my freedoms, and who helped bring about the restored gospel to this earth. I also honor God's laws and God's ways which allow me to not only have, but the ability to use, my own agency. It is a great Plan of Happiness we are living in, even when there are laws affecting my country that I don't agree with. Heavenly Father is still in charge, and I'm more than okay with that.
Tuesday, June 30, 2015
Hindsight is 20/20
I graduated from high school in 1995. Just three short years later, the world was watching as the Clinton-Lewinsky scandal broke and the President of the United States was threatened with impeachment. The allegations actually started in 1994 when a woman Clinton worked with in 1991 came forward saying that Clinton had made unwanted sexual advances towards her and, in so doing, had violated her civil rights. Monica Lewinsky began working in the White House in 1995 as an intern. In November of that same year, she began having a sexual relationship with President Clinton, a married man. (You can research more about the topic by simply Googling it.)
As a young 21-year-old woman at the time, I didn't really understand what all the "fuss" was about regarding this supposed affair between the President and Monica Lewinsky. So he was a cheat. Big deal! She was young and impressionable and made a stupid decision to sleep with a married man. Her problem! Hilary didn't have the guts to leave a cheat because the money was too good. I guess if you care more about money than yourself, so be it! Those were my basic thoughts about the whole thing. Surely there need not be any consideration about future problems that would result from this issue. Or so I thought.
I remember Mom and Dad talking about what was happening with the President. I remember them saying how all the publicity about it was going to open the floodgates to worse things happening. I remember them discussing how it would change the world's views on sexual relations, inappropriate relationships, and adultery. But as a young woman with her whole life ahead of her, I didn't really see how the President being an idiot would impact my life or the lives of those I loved directly.
Fast forward 17 years to the legalization of gay marriage. (This is not a debate about whether gay marriage is right or wrong.) I can look back over the last 17 years and see exactly what Mom and Dad were talking about and why they were concerned for the welfare of their children and grandchildren because of what happened with President Clinton and Monica Lewinsky. The floodgates were opened, and suddenly we started to see television shows that celebrated sexual relations outside of marriage, messages that adultery was okay as long as you were in love with the other person, and the breaking up of families through divorce and other selfish reasons that supposedly "made everyone happy." There were also shows with people "coming out", shows accepting lifestyles that were "do what you want if it makes you happy", and full of alcohol and drug use. And now we have television shows where people are openly gay and applauded for their lifestyle, shows full of innuendo (even in shows for young children), shows full of drug use and alcohol abuse, shows full of physical and emotional and verbal abuse against men and women and children, and shows that tell us the world is still living in the dark ages because we don't accept all of these things as "normal", "acceptable", or "reasonable." Yes, now I understand what my parents were talking about.
And since hindsight is 20/20, I see similar things happening with the legalization of gay marriage. Several of the young women I taught for years (and discussed the ramifications for society of legalizing gay marriage and accepting actions and behaviors and lifestyles that weren't in accordance with God's will) are now openly following, liking, and even supporting the legalization of gay marriage. The problem is they are where I was 17 years ago. Their eyes have yet to be opened. They have yet to understand and comprehend fully the ramifications of what this means for society as a whole and for religious people who believe in and try to live Christian values. Where will that leave us in another 17 years?
It breaks my heart to see how easily and how willingly young people have accepted what has been forced upon them by the very loud minority. Instead of following their parents examples of loving all, treating all with kindness and respect, and doing all of that without condoning what is wrong in the eyes of God, they are openly defying what they were taught (at least in my class) that they can love the sinner and hate the sin, they can be kind and thoughtful and respectful without condoning beliefs that don't make our Heavenly Father happy, and that they can (and should!) openly support marriage between one man and one woman because it really is the best way for children to grow and thrive. It's not just a matter of loving who you want to love. It's a matter of saving our society from deteriorating to the point of no return.
If I could save them from having 20/20 hindsight later, I would! I've wished several times in the last 17 years that I had been clued in better to what was happening and be able to listen to my parents with a more open mind. If I had, I might have seen what was coming and been more prepared to deal with it. It looks like some, however, have to have that "live and learn" experience. But boy, oh boy, can it be rough! And I'm afraid we're headed for some very murky and rough waters in the next 17 years.
The one bright shining hope, however, is the promise that if we live the way we're supposed to live and do what we're supposed to do, we will recognize the Savior when He comes and eventually be able to return to live with Him and with our Heavenly Father. I'll admit that sometimes I pray for that day to come sooner rather than later, especially knowing what we'll have to face as religious people and as a society in the coming years. It will not get any easier to live by standards deemed "old" or "out of date" by others. As I think about the blessings that came to the righteous in Book of Mormon times, however, I see that bright, shining hope glowing ever brighter.
And THAT is what keeps my sanity.
*I had this post written on the morning of June 30, 2015 as a "scheduled" post to go out tonight (thus you see the time as 7:40 pm). At about 4:00 p.m. today, I saw the following link online and it says basically what I was trying to say here, only the article says it better. In case you are interested in reading it: http://www.mormonnewsroom.org/article/top-church-leaders-counsel-members-after-supreme-court-same-sex-marriage-decision
As a young 21-year-old woman at the time, I didn't really understand what all the "fuss" was about regarding this supposed affair between the President and Monica Lewinsky. So he was a cheat. Big deal! She was young and impressionable and made a stupid decision to sleep with a married man. Her problem! Hilary didn't have the guts to leave a cheat because the money was too good. I guess if you care more about money than yourself, so be it! Those were my basic thoughts about the whole thing. Surely there need not be any consideration about future problems that would result from this issue. Or so I thought.
I remember Mom and Dad talking about what was happening with the President. I remember them saying how all the publicity about it was going to open the floodgates to worse things happening. I remember them discussing how it would change the world's views on sexual relations, inappropriate relationships, and adultery. But as a young woman with her whole life ahead of her, I didn't really see how the President being an idiot would impact my life or the lives of those I loved directly.
Fast forward 17 years to the legalization of gay marriage. (This is not a debate about whether gay marriage is right or wrong.) I can look back over the last 17 years and see exactly what Mom and Dad were talking about and why they were concerned for the welfare of their children and grandchildren because of what happened with President Clinton and Monica Lewinsky. The floodgates were opened, and suddenly we started to see television shows that celebrated sexual relations outside of marriage, messages that adultery was okay as long as you were in love with the other person, and the breaking up of families through divorce and other selfish reasons that supposedly "made everyone happy." There were also shows with people "coming out", shows accepting lifestyles that were "do what you want if it makes you happy", and full of alcohol and drug use. And now we have television shows where people are openly gay and applauded for their lifestyle, shows full of innuendo (even in shows for young children), shows full of drug use and alcohol abuse, shows full of physical and emotional and verbal abuse against men and women and children, and shows that tell us the world is still living in the dark ages because we don't accept all of these things as "normal", "acceptable", or "reasonable." Yes, now I understand what my parents were talking about.
And since hindsight is 20/20, I see similar things happening with the legalization of gay marriage. Several of the young women I taught for years (and discussed the ramifications for society of legalizing gay marriage and accepting actions and behaviors and lifestyles that weren't in accordance with God's will) are now openly following, liking, and even supporting the legalization of gay marriage. The problem is they are where I was 17 years ago. Their eyes have yet to be opened. They have yet to understand and comprehend fully the ramifications of what this means for society as a whole and for religious people who believe in and try to live Christian values. Where will that leave us in another 17 years?
It breaks my heart to see how easily and how willingly young people have accepted what has been forced upon them by the very loud minority. Instead of following their parents examples of loving all, treating all with kindness and respect, and doing all of that without condoning what is wrong in the eyes of God, they are openly defying what they were taught (at least in my class) that they can love the sinner and hate the sin, they can be kind and thoughtful and respectful without condoning beliefs that don't make our Heavenly Father happy, and that they can (and should!) openly support marriage between one man and one woman because it really is the best way for children to grow and thrive. It's not just a matter of loving who you want to love. It's a matter of saving our society from deteriorating to the point of no return.
If I could save them from having 20/20 hindsight later, I would! I've wished several times in the last 17 years that I had been clued in better to what was happening and be able to listen to my parents with a more open mind. If I had, I might have seen what was coming and been more prepared to deal with it. It looks like some, however, have to have that "live and learn" experience. But boy, oh boy, can it be rough! And I'm afraid we're headed for some very murky and rough waters in the next 17 years.
The one bright shining hope, however, is the promise that if we live the way we're supposed to live and do what we're supposed to do, we will recognize the Savior when He comes and eventually be able to return to live with Him and with our Heavenly Father. I'll admit that sometimes I pray for that day to come sooner rather than later, especially knowing what we'll have to face as religious people and as a society in the coming years. It will not get any easier to live by standards deemed "old" or "out of date" by others. As I think about the blessings that came to the righteous in Book of Mormon times, however, I see that bright, shining hope glowing ever brighter.
And THAT is what keeps my sanity.
*I had this post written on the morning of June 30, 2015 as a "scheduled" post to go out tonight (thus you see the time as 7:40 pm). At about 4:00 p.m. today, I saw the following link online and it says basically what I was trying to say here, only the article says it better. In case you are interested in reading it: http://www.mormonnewsroom.org/article/top-church-leaders-counsel-members-after-supreme-court-same-sex-marriage-decision
Monday, June 29, 2015
Lawn Mowers
Let's talk lawn mowers. We currently have a Craftsman riding mower. It does the job and works well. We've had some issues with it (blades needed sharpening, a tire problem, etc.), but it's not very old and still in good shape. But I don't like that mower. It's big, but still feels cramped when you ride it. The turning radius is terrible. The bag and catcher have never worked correctly. It has ... problems.
Something like one of these is what I would *love* to have instead:
The first one with the steering wheel would be ideal. I would worry about trying to work the other one. It might be a little too ... complicated for me? How do you work those bars? Left down to go left, right down to go right? Plus, what would happen if it tipped or something? It feels like you'd be more trapped with that one, but maybe not.
What I do like is the container for your feet. It looks very solid. The engine is also in the back, so no more hot legs (that are already scorching hot because of the 100 degree days we've had). The thing I don't get is where the bag goes. Or does it not have bags available? We really need a new bag and catcher on our Craftsman, but they cost a good chunk of money. If these mulched, etc., it might be worth it to invest in a machine like this than trying to find the exact bag and catcher that will work with what we currently have.
Our current tractor has a 42" deck, so it would be nice to have something wider, but still compact. These "dream machines" are both 42" as well, but it's their design that does it for me. Guess I'd better start saving my pennies and hope the Craftsman doesn't give out too soon. Until then, I'll try to be grateful that we even have a mower, especially since the grass is shriveling up under all this heat. We might not even need a mower when this summer gets over!
Something like one of these is what I would *love* to have instead:
The first one with the steering wheel would be ideal. I would worry about trying to work the other one. It might be a little too ... complicated for me? How do you work those bars? Left down to go left, right down to go right? Plus, what would happen if it tipped or something? It feels like you'd be more trapped with that one, but maybe not.
What I do like is the container for your feet. It looks very solid. The engine is also in the back, so no more hot legs (that are already scorching hot because of the 100 degree days we've had). The thing I don't get is where the bag goes. Or does it not have bags available? We really need a new bag and catcher on our Craftsman, but they cost a good chunk of money. If these mulched, etc., it might be worth it to invest in a machine like this than trying to find the exact bag and catcher that will work with what we currently have.
Our current tractor has a 42" deck, so it would be nice to have something wider, but still compact. These "dream machines" are both 42" as well, but it's their design that does it for me. Guess I'd better start saving my pennies and hope the Craftsman doesn't give out too soon. Until then, I'll try to be grateful that we even have a mower, especially since the grass is shriveling up under all this heat. We might not even need a mower when this summer gets over!
Saturday, June 27, 2015
Fire Pit Station
We've had a fire pit for years now. I originally bought one that was medium-sized, and it served us well. But then I found a great deal on a large fire pit, so I bought it and gave the other one to my brother. I like the fact that the fire pit is mobile and can be dragged to wherever we want to use it. It's come in handy to use it in the front yard during the summer when the back yard is a sweltering 2,506 degrees. We sit in the shade of the front yard with a fire burning and enjoy the fire pit, even in the thick summer heat.
As part of my home improvement "wants", I'd really love to have a fire pit station in our backyard. We can still use the mobile pit for fires out front, but in the Spring and Fall a fire pit station in the backyard would be really nice. Mom is in agreement, but things like this take time, money, and effort. Mostly money.
I've been pricing pavers through Lowe's and Home Depot. It seems they have some at a pretty reasonable price. We don't need anything fancy. They have some red-ish pavers that would complement or maybe even match the bricks of our house. We do have some landscape curbing, so even some of the gray cement looking pavers would work well. It would take some cutting, however, since the section of yard we would use has some curves. The idea is to build a stationary fire pit that is easy to access and clean year-round and also adds some variety to the yard.
The following are some images that spark my imagination about possibilities, and they make me excited to get started on a project like this that's useful and adds value to our yard. (All images were found by Googling "diy fire pit".)
I like this one because it leaves the grass as-is and is still off the ground enough that little kids can't fall in. (They can climb in, yes, but it's also got a big enough lip that parents would likely catch them before they got too far.)
For now, I'll keep dreaming about my fire pit station. At least Mom is on board with it, so when we do finally decide what we want and get the measurements and supplies, it will be gung-ho with the project. I can't wait! If/when we ever get it done, I'll have to take pictures to show what we finally decided to do. Sounds like a good summer project, right?
As part of my home improvement "wants", I'd really love to have a fire pit station in our backyard. We can still use the mobile pit for fires out front, but in the Spring and Fall a fire pit station in the backyard would be really nice. Mom is in agreement, but things like this take time, money, and effort. Mostly money.
I've been pricing pavers through Lowe's and Home Depot. It seems they have some at a pretty reasonable price. We don't need anything fancy. They have some red-ish pavers that would complement or maybe even match the bricks of our house. We do have some landscape curbing, so even some of the gray cement looking pavers would work well. It would take some cutting, however, since the section of yard we would use has some curves. The idea is to build a stationary fire pit that is easy to access and clean year-round and also adds some variety to the yard.
The following are some images that spark my imagination about possibilities, and they make me excited to get started on a project like this that's useful and adds value to our yard. (All images were found by Googling "diy fire pit".)
I like this one because it leaves the grass as-is and is still off the ground enough that little kids can't fall in. (They can climb in, yes, but it's also got a big enough lip that parents would likely catch them before they got too far.)
I like the looks of this one because it's square. So many are round (our mobile one is round), so this gives a little different detail to the yard. Plus, since we would put it in a somewhat circular space, it would be interesting to have the different shapes together for more angles and interest. I also like the height and the idea of having grill options for the top. There's nothing like a burger cooked over a hot fire!
This is kind of a cool idea because it would put the mobile fire pit to use and still allow it to be mobile if we wanted to move it to the front yard. These are a similar shape/texture to the pavers I've seen on Lowe's and Home Depot's websites.
This is more what I imagine doing. Although, the area where we would like to have a station is not nearly this large. (That is one HUGE pit!) But I like how the pavers are put down and spaced out to give the fire air. I also like the idea of being able to size it however we want. The mobile fire pit is large, but we could go a little larger on a permanent one for the backyard.
This is a more simplified version of a pit station. Again, it would leave the grass intact, and I like the larger rectangular pavers. They are cheaper, too, plus they look pretty neat offset like this. I'd definitely want to create a couple or three more "layers" of the pavers to keep it off the ground. I think it would look similar to the station above, but uses the rectangular pavers instead of the naturally curved ones, which might be easier. The reason I say easier is because the curved pavers kind of have to match up in order to look decent. These rectangular ones wouldn't need an exact line up to look good.
For now, I'll keep dreaming about my fire pit station. At least Mom is on board with it, so when we do finally decide what we want and get the measurements and supplies, it will be gung-ho with the project. I can't wait! If/when we ever get it done, I'll have to take pictures to show what we finally decided to do. Sounds like a good summer project, right?
Friday, June 26, 2015
Recipe: Bowtie Caprese Toss
I found this recipe online through Good Housekeeping, and it looks SO good. We really enjoy eating bruschetta with the toasted bread, fresh mozzarella cheese and basil, and drizzled with a little olive oil and salt and pepper. It's a tasty and fresh summer time dinner/treat/appetizer/snack that takes only a little time and doesn't heat the house up to boiling.
Since we've already had some 100 degree weather (and since we're in for a LOT more in the coming week), I thought this was a good way to enjoy caprese served cold. I haven't made it yet, but when I do I'll probably make some adjustments (because that's how I roll). It might end up being our go-to pasta salad. I mean, look at these ingredients. YUM, right?
Bowtie Caprese Toss
1 pint cherry tomatoes
1/2 teaspoon salt
12 ounces mini bowtie pasta (farfalle)
1 Tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
1 small onion
2 Tablespoons balsamic vinegar
2 Tablespoons water
1 clove garlic
6 ounces fresh mozzarella
1 green onion
1/4 cup fresh parsley leaves (Since I'm not a huge fan of parsley, I think I would omit this ingredient and put basil in its place.)
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Directions:
In large bowl, combine tomatoes and salt; set aside. Heat covered 3-quart saucepan of salted water to boiling on high. Add bowtie pasta and cook as label directs. Drain pasta and transfer to bowl with tomatoes, stirring until well combined. Cool completely.
Meanwhile, in 10-inch non-stick skillet, heat olive oil on medium for one minute, then add onion. Cook one minute or until onion begins to soften; add balsamic vinegar and water, stirring to coat. Cover and cook 5 to 7 minutes or until onion is soft and almost all liquid has evaporated, stirring occasionally.
Uncover and add garlic. Cook 2 to 3 minutes or until garlic is lightly browned. Cool completely. Add onion mixture to pasta and tomatoes, along with mozzarella, green onion, parsley, and black pepper.
Doesn't that sound delish?! I can't wait to try it and hope to find time to make it soon.
I'd also like to add that Costco is so very good and so very bad for me. Costco has an amazing selection of cheese. They have fresh mozzarella that's already pre-sliced (works perfectly on that bruschetta!), and it would be so easy to dice up for this pasta salad. I was at Costco last night and noticed they have a selection of the cherry tomatoes as well. I should have bought some, but didn't. Another reason (excuse!) to go back, I guess. Maybe that will give me time to stand in the cheese aisle and dream up recipes for each of the cheese flavors. And yes, that is a true source of entertainment for me.
Since we've already had some 100 degree weather (and since we're in for a LOT more in the coming week), I thought this was a good way to enjoy caprese served cold. I haven't made it yet, but when I do I'll probably make some adjustments (because that's how I roll). It might end up being our go-to pasta salad. I mean, look at these ingredients. YUM, right?
Bowtie Caprese Toss
1 pint cherry tomatoes
1/2 teaspoon salt
12 ounces mini bowtie pasta (farfalle)
1 Tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
1 small onion
2 Tablespoons balsamic vinegar
2 Tablespoons water
1 clove garlic
6 ounces fresh mozzarella
1 green onion
1/4 cup fresh parsley leaves (Since I'm not a huge fan of parsley, I think I would omit this ingredient and put basil in its place.)
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Directions:
In large bowl, combine tomatoes and salt; set aside. Heat covered 3-quart saucepan of salted water to boiling on high. Add bowtie pasta and cook as label directs. Drain pasta and transfer to bowl with tomatoes, stirring until well combined. Cool completely.
Meanwhile, in 10-inch non-stick skillet, heat olive oil on medium for one minute, then add onion. Cook one minute or until onion begins to soften; add balsamic vinegar and water, stirring to coat. Cover and cook 5 to 7 minutes or until onion is soft and almost all liquid has evaporated, stirring occasionally.
Uncover and add garlic. Cook 2 to 3 minutes or until garlic is lightly browned. Cool completely. Add onion mixture to pasta and tomatoes, along with mozzarella, green onion, parsley, and black pepper.
Doesn't that sound delish?! I can't wait to try it and hope to find time to make it soon.
I'd also like to add that Costco is so very good and so very bad for me. Costco has an amazing selection of cheese. They have fresh mozzarella that's already pre-sliced (works perfectly on that bruschetta!), and it would be so easy to dice up for this pasta salad. I was at Costco last night and noticed they have a selection of the cherry tomatoes as well. I should have bought some, but didn't. Another reason (excuse!) to go back, I guess. Maybe that will give me time to stand in the cheese aisle and dream up recipes for each of the cheese flavors. And yes, that is a true source of entertainment for me.
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