I’ve missed blogging. A lot. And since life hasn’t quieted much, I don’t see that I’ll have any more time to post than I’ve had the past few months.
Inspired by information about Grant Faulkner, the new executive director of NaNoWriMo, I think I’ve come upon a solution. It seems that Mr. Faulkner runs an online literary journal – 100 Word Story – and thus launched MY epiphany: I can limit my entries to 100 words or less, AND I will post at least one or two times a week.
I don’t have enough words left to say anything else, and captions don’t count!
Caio
EPIPHANY: When you realize your future isn't mixed in with noodles.
Had some inquiries about the wonderful Ms. Luann. She works in our department and some of her unofficial duties include decking halls with holiday regalia.
Be it Halloween or Independence Day, she makes EVERY day a joy with her happy disposition and creative energy.
Nearly all the candy in her display is NOT edible but decorative AND she made them all! Luann is NOT paid to do this; nor is she reimbursed for supplies.
She just does it for the fun of it.
Amazing.
I couldn’t resist honoring Luann by photographing her creation and using it as my banner this month.
Technically, winter isn’t officially here until December 22nd – also known as the shortest day of the year and the winter solstice. That means I can still write about Fall 2011 – a very challenging time this year. BUT the months were also sprinkled with great moments, and those are the ones I want to review – mostly in photos.
Busy times ramped up starting in August. With school starting, there is always tons to do at the school district office, and even more so this year. My terrific friend and boss headed for Great Britain for 3 – yes, I said 3 – weeks. She deserved the get-away, and so I didn’t mind the extra workload.
In spite of the insanity, I was able to fly to San Diego on September 15th for an amazingly cheap price with the purpose of spending a couple of days exploring the San Diego Zoo and Sea World with two of my grandaughters. (Why can’t I spell grand daughters with one “d”? It makes total sense to me?”)
I don’t know why I feel I have to explain my reason for leaving at such a busy time, but I do. It’s the guilt complex I have cultivated over many years, I guess. Anyway, I originally volunteered to go so that my daughter-in-law would not have to drive back to Salt Lake City alone with her 5 and 2-years-old girls. AND I found the cheap flight.
Before even leaving, I learned that my son did not have to stay at the conference as long as he anticipated, and he could drive back after all. But I HAD to go because I purchased that inexpensive airline ticket, right? So I went; shared the tiniest room the Hilton Hotel offers with 2 adults, 2 little ones, and 15,000 pounds of luggage. Nevertheless, it was a great time, and here are the pix to prove it.
As you can see by the new widget in my sidebar, I have accepted the National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) challenge. I know I am crazy, but I ALSO know this is the ONLY way I will EVER complete a novel.
Craziest photo I could find of me - t'was taken LAST November in Bahston
I’ve tried the SANE way – writing every day… worked for a minute; writing a certain amount of words daily … ditto; writing at the same time each day … no luck; write with a buddy … buddy bailed; tried a “MiniWriMo” … same sad story; started and stopped writing a mash-up novel by sort of plagiarizing Thomas Hardy. Sigh.
So here goes.
I told G.E. about my goal and he didn’t even say, “What? Are you NUTS? Aren’t you busy enough? You’re already glued to the computer.” Etc.
I shared my writing idea with him AND read the first 1000 words to him. He was “almost” enthusiastic. Hey! That’s good for the man, okay? He even fell asleep last night without growling – and I mean literally growling – at me to turn off the light. (The growl is really cute and always makes me smile.) Anyway, I typed for about an hour! And then read “until I learned something.”
I plan to leave “mini-posts” to document my progress along the way, but not until after I post my “Autumn Album” tomorrow – LOTS of cute pix of my grandkidlets between September and November.
In the meantime AND if your curious, I’ve written – drum roll, please –
This is NO disguise. This is my way of bringing attention to prostate cancer. Not exactly the equivalent killer that breast cancer is to women, it is still a devastating illness for many men. I realize that many of you may know someone who suffers from this form of cancer, and you may think, “Oh, men can live long lives after being diagnosed.” My father-in-law contracted prostate cancer, but that is not what took his life. Many years ago, John Huntsman, Sr. was informed he had the disease, and he was inspired to build the Huntsman Cancer Center as a result. He’s still among the living.
What some don’t know – and I used to be among those – is that the younger the man is when he contracts this disease, usually under 60, the more likely it is to spread into a deadly disease. G.E. and I know a very fine man who has battled prostate cancer for ten years. He is close to our age and has yet to beat it. He may not. So in addition to praying for this great husband, father, and grandpa, I am also sporting this mustache for him. (G.E. would grow one, too, if his employer allowed it.)
If you know me or have followed this blog for a while, you understand that I am an avid reader of young adult fiction, historical fiction, fiction fiction. I also like to read “trade books” about my profession – teaching and literacy. As a member of the Church of Latter Day Saints (aka Mormons), I am admonished to read the scriptures daily. For a variety of reasons, this isn’t always easy to do.
While I won’t go into ALL the excuses I’ve used over the years to rationalize why my Bible, Book of Mormon, Doctrine and Covenants, and Pearl of Great Price gather dust as they sit on the book shelf or bed table, I will say that it often boils down to “mood.” These books of wisdom are NOT easy-reads! The verses, stories, and lessons require engaged thinking, reflection, and questioning. That means work, work, work.
One of the reasons I enjoy reading is because of the escape, and the idea of “getting away” is often more appealing than “getting into.” But I also LOVE learning, and that is what draws me back to these texts that teach me lessons that go beyond this worldly existence.
Because I know that readers glean more from reading if they set a purpose, I find I cannot study the scriptures just because I am supposed to. The first time I read the Book of Mormon, for example, was to learn for myself what was in it. I belong to a church that claims the book is a record of ancient peoples, and that its pages testify of Christ. So, back in 1962, I attended a seminary class in 9th grade where the teacher assigned us to read every verse, page, and chapter.
Since that time, I’ve read the Book of Mormon a few more times for several different purposes. Once I underlined every reference about Christ’s birth, ministry, death and resurrection. Another time, I studied what the Book of Mormon taught about a variety of topics: adversity, relationships, life after death, repentance, the nature of God, and the role of evil, etc.
Sometimes I study for hours – usually when preparing a church talk or lesson; sometimes I read for a few minutes and many times I don’t study at all. Because I felt guilty during those times of omission, I asked myself why I didn’t feel like diving into the body of scriptures. Realizing it was more than being too tired or busy to study for a few minutes that kept me from my reading, I experienced the aforementioned epiphany of needing a purpose. But then I struggled with finding a motivating purpose!
While mulling over all this personal struggle, I picked up my dusty Book of Mormon and pulled out a card tucked between the pages. On one side I had written these words:
Read until you learn something.
“Light bulb!” I decided that would be my purpose – until I found something better. So far there has been nothing better than that noted advice from Andy Barlow, a near-by acquaintance. With that thought in mind, I told myself I could stop if I learned something after 5 minutes of reading.
While this happens once in a while, I find that when I learn a little here or a bit more there, I don’t WANT to stop. Interesting, isn’t it? And paradoxical. Because I give myself permission to close the book and snuggle under the covers after ingesting just one thought-provoking morsel, I feel free to continue. I’ve also found that I take greater delight in what I am learning.
... read until you learn something ...
To track these illuminations, I scrawl the “big ideas” gleaned from one or more verses in bright red ink over those printed lines of inspiration. The act of “writing to read or learn” cements thoughts more solidly in my mind and heart. And a quick look back over the pages helps me remember or review my lessons learned.
I have been an absentee blogger as of late. September was a roller-coaster month, complete with ups, downs, upSIDE-downs, cork-screws, and unsafe speeds. I am happy I survived, and I welcome October.
Before September turned psycho, I responded to one of WordPress’ pretty cool daily prompts:
For each year you have been alive, write a single sentence about the most important thing that happened to you that year. If you don’t want to get too personal, write a sentence about the most important historic event, or event most interesting to you, that happened in the world that year.
I quickly realized that 63 “power sentences” would take a long time to write and read, and so I decided to write 10 a day. I wrote the first 10 before September sabotaged my efforts. I also thought it might be a good idea to reflect upon why that event deserved its “most important” status, but that would double the length and quadruple the thinking. Suddenly, the whole idea seemed overwhelming, and I ended up saving the draft.
I just stumbled upon what I wrote nearly a month ago and decided “what the heck, push ‘Publish!'” And so I am. Whether or not these are the most important events of the year, I don’t know and I don’t want to think about it any more.
Signed, Me
1948: I was born on Memorial Day – the original, static holiday, not the rotating date that allows for a 3-day weekend to welcome summer.
1949: I entertained family and neighbors with non-stop jabbering, punctuated by slapping my own chubby knee for emphasis – early indications of the gift of gab and future chubbiness.
1950: Mom gave me a sister, and then worried that I’d feel displaced. She spent many years making sure we both felt equally loved.
1951: I underwent a tonsillectomy, and swear I remember receiving a beautiful “Storybook Doll” from Daddy, but practical Mom insisted he return it as she deemed the luxury as UNaffordable!
1952: Because I have NO sense of direction, my family calls me Amelia (as in Earheart), but when I was four my sister and I found our way back to our new house from Sunday School. (Maybe Connie knew the way, and I followed her.)
1953: I remember, or at least think I remember, owning a puppy that was killed by a car, but I took solace in the fact that the angels truly flew him up to heaven.
1954: I started first grade at a brand new elementary school, and Mom packed “exploding” 7-Up in a thermos that drenched the food in my Annie Oakley lunchbox.
1955: Second grade in Mrs. Quidor’s class was highlighted by the pet parade where my reincarnated puppy showed up so I’d have a pet to parade.
1956: Third grade brought the beginning and the end to my dancing career as I officially performed in a dance recital and UNofficially presented an original dance number in Mrs. Q’s “Little Theater.”
1957: I really fell in love with reading because I wanted to earn a gazillion paper fish to win Mrs. Jorgensen’s Reading Fishbowl competition.
1958: I knew my 5th grade teacher didn’t like me, and so I wouldn’t ask him if I could be excused to go to the bathroom even if it meant wetting my pants – which I did one time.
Important events that should have made the list:
1954: My grandpa died, and I knew that would be the end of sitting on his knee, licking the paper after he rolled his cigarettes, and eating his pink wintergreen mints.
1954: I almost choked myself to death the day I wore Mom’s yellow scarf around my neck. I took it without her permission and kept pulling the knot tighter and tighter until I thought I couldn’t swallow. By that time the knot was so tight and tiny that my teacher had to cut the scarf off my neck. I had some explainin’ to do!
1956: My first trip to the brand new theme park DISNEYLAND. I fell in love with the place and dreamed of working there when I grew up.
Note: A week ago I learned of my cousin’s tragic death. I have been hurting all week as I’ve thought of her life and death, but I found some solace in hugging my other cousins as we met to memorialize her and her husband. While I can’t possibly write of this event, I will eventually write of its impact. In the meantime, I want to share an article I found about cousins. I am fortunate to know and love MANY cousins – after all, my grandmother birthed 13 children!!! My cousins were an important part of my childhood, including the one and only Beckie Sue.
My Cousin
The role of cousins is an often-neglected dynamic within the intricate workings of family relationships. It can be a powerful bond and profound influence on our children. By fostering the unique ties that cousins share, we can nurture a sense of familiarity, stability and family history that will enrich their lives.
Cousins provide an instant peer group, where children have the chance to mingle with kids of different ages and the opposite sex within the comfort and safety of the family setting. Knowing that they have a history and a bloodline in common gives them a sense of connectedness and a greater appreciation of their roots. If close family ties are encouraged, the pattern of maintaining family unity can be preserved across successive generations.
Relating to cousins allows children the opportunity to expand their social circle. Rivalries between cousins are usually less intense than among brothers and sisters, therefore that relationship is often less conflicted. A cousin is like a sibling without the baggage. Not as close as a brother and sister, they still share a sense of family without many of the negative emotions associated with nuclear family problems. They can explore and witness close interpersonal relationships at a comfortable distance.
In befriending a cousin, a child can find a convenient ally when confronting siblings or other adult family members. Because cousins relate on a different level, the love and companionship that they develop can blossom into a friendship that is longer lasting and deeper than with a traditional friend. An older cousin can serve as a mentor and role model, providing guidance and support to a younger relative.
Often cousins only get together at eventful family gatherings (such as weddings) or times of family adversity (like funerals). They turn to each other for fun, comfort and support as the entire family navigates its way through the various stages of life. Grandparents, especially, can be instrumental in strengthening their grandkids’ relationships with each other. They can be the vehicles by which family members keep in touch. By reinforcing the importance of these ties, the connected extended family can strengthen the fabric of the nuclear family and forge kinships that can last a lifetime.
By making an effort to keep in touch with each other, aunts and uncles/ mothers and fathers/grandmas and grandpas remind youngsters that relatives, especially cousins, are valuable family treasures. It draws attention to the fact that children belong to a something bigger in this world and are part of a unique group that is different yet the same. Mining this often under-appreciated resource can perpetuate the special ties that exist between people that share common, blood, history and experiences.
G.E. recently purchased his THIRD University of Utah flag. It seems the weather here in Utah County is not kind to these cloth representatives of that university to the north. Near the end of football season, the red U on a field of BLACK is pretty much obliterated. (So sad.)
To counter the winds of fate, my husband brought home a new flag that boasts the dimensions of a KING-SIZED bed-sheet! And hung it from the rafters above our garage door – the traditional place of honor for said flag.
But G.E. didn’t forget his darling wife and her loyalties which differ slightly from his own. Out of the kindness of his heart he purchased a BYU flag to replace the one that mysteriously disappeared last spring. (G.E. claims the wind blew away with it, too. Sure.)
Anyway here are his purchases:
The bed sheet!
The hankie. >_<
BUT I figured a way to even the score – at least on THIS blog:
Writing My Life 