I don't often play by the rules...

Yesterday I woke up to October. Well actually I'd awaken to October a couple of days before that as well, but because I had other things on my mind those other days... Yesterday I woke up to October.

And I said to myself, "Self, it's October! We should decorate for Halloween!" To which myself replied, "Well, do you think we should clean then decorate or decorate then clean?"

Hmm, what a quandary. Clean, decorate? Decorate, clean?

Logic would say, make your house all spiffy lovely then decorate. It's the right thing to do.

But I don't like logic, especially in matters of creativity. Logic stifles creativity. Logic is a killjoy. So I argue with logic and say, but if I decorate first then I'll get all jazzed, pumped up and excited and I'll clean up speedy quick so as to be able to show off the splendor of my creation. And all will be well in my world Mr. Logic. All will be well.

But it's not the right thing to do. Logic protests with a firm stance and stern glare.

And I sheepishly ponder the question again... Clean then decorate? Decorate then clean? Hmm...

So what would you do?




And what do you think I did?

Surf and Turf...

WRITER'S WORKSHOP PROMPT:
A Memorable Fishing Trip...



Once upon a time, I went away to college and decided that cowboys were very HOTT!!! Which was unusual as I had never thought much of them in high school.




If I recall correctly, the cowboys at my high school just hung out in the far corner of the parking lot, listened to country music (blah) and smoked. At least I think they smoked. Did they smoke?




And I belonged to the big hair, guess jeans and alternative rock/pop crowd.




And please tell me that when you weren't out and about in your guess jeans you were at home in your mens boxer shorts (and a very over sized shirt, seriously why am I wearing that tent) tell me that you wore guess jeans and or mens boxers and I'll tell you that you are my people.

But in college things were different,(though I still had big hair, guess jeans and popular music) because in college cowboys were HOTT!!!

So once upon a time when one of the HOTT college cowboys called and asked me if I wanted to go fishing with him I said YESSSS, don't mind if I do.




And that's when I caught my very first ever fish (a trout I believe)




Out yonder there on my fishing date with the cowboy




Then we all went to the home of my cowboy date's cowboy friend and ate steak (?)

And the cowboys accepted me into their secret cowboy society when I proclaimed it a sin to put sauce (of any kind) on a steak (my daddy raised me right). And life was good.

...later that summer (when we were all back home) the cowboy wrote me a letter while out on the range of Montana (my cowboy date was a real life cowboy) and told me how thinking about me kept him warm at night (I swear we only went on that one fishing date and we never even kissed).

But sadly I never wrote him back because I had fallen in love with a non-cowboy back home.




And I'm so very glad I did.

Group dating...

Contrary to popular belief, when a girl gets asked to homecoming by two different boys on the same night she does not exclaim, "Woo-hoo, lucky me!" (though she is very flattered and grateful)

In reality when a girl returns to her car after her amazing choral concert (Marlee really was amazing at her concert last night and I'm pretty much a dud for not taking my camera) to find balloons and a cake waiting for her then whilst hurrying home to find out who they are from, receives a phone call from her dad saying, "There are roses and chocolate here for you..." she does not say, "Woo-hoo, lucky me!" But... "Oh no." and "Oh dear." and "This is really bad." and "What should I do?" and "I feel awful." And the like.

And then she frets and stews and sighs and calls her friends and drives to her friend's house for a pow-wow and worries and stews some more (because she would fancy going with either boy and doesn't want to tell one no). It's a tough thing I tell you. A very tough thing indeed.

Fortunately for the girl however, there is a rule of etiquette put into place that protects against such a situation as this. The rule of etiquette that states (and correct me if I'm wrong) that it is only proper for a girl to accept the offer of he who asks first

...even if it was only five minutes before.

So what have you been up to?...

For reasons I do not wish to discuss, I have had need to be very nice to myself as of late. No really. Niceness to myself has been imperative to my survival. It's true. And therefore I have spent most days in ratty jeans and or pajamas--because though being nice to oneself for some might involve stiletto heels and a french manicure, for me it means ratty clothes, a messy ponytail and absolutely no makeup-- and while hanging about in my tattered state, I have found that the art of thumbing through old magazines has become very therapeutic for me.

Well not just thumbing through them exactly, but thumbing through them in order to rip out words, phrases and pictures that uplift and delight my senses. You see I have turned into Templeton from Charlotte's Web--scavenging ever scavenging for the perfect word. Of course after my role as Templeton is complete I then become Charlotte herself, spinning a web (or in this case a poster) of inspirational delight. And then alas it is Wilbur I emulate, dancing and flipping about under my web (or posters) of blissful affirmation.

That's right--I'm some terrific, radiant, humble pig and I'm gonna be just fine.

P.S.
If you're wondering what I plan to do with all of my webs (or posters) of blissful affirmation, I'm using them for a project I'm working on in my new creative/writing room. I can't wait to finish it so I can show y'all. It's sure to be fabulous. I think.

Lucky me...

Tonight while trying to watch a movie with Rick, two of my little ones came into our room and started arguing over who got to have "mommy and me time". I tried to tell them that they could both spend time with me but that I would first like to finish my movie so please go upstairs and wait. They were reluctant, unhappy and in need of my time and attention so I asked myself, "hey self, can this silly movie bring even a fraction of the fulfillment and joy to your life that these little ones are offering you right now?" To which I answered myself, "Um no self I don't believe it can." So I walked away from the movie, gave each of my little ones a piggy back ride up the stairs to the family room, where we sat together and read "Stone Soup" (I loved that story as a kid) and it was quite lovely.

Later as I stood in my kitchen preparing a roast for tomorrow's dinner I thought to myself how very lucky I am to have so many people who want to spend their time with me. I'm very loved and this is a wonderful feeling indeed. And as the words to the hymn "Have I done any good in the world today" played through my mind this evening (as it often does when I replay my day) instead of feeling like a bit of a failure for not reaching out to do this that or the other for my neighbors and friends, I thought of my sweet little family and answered...
Yes, yes I have.

In the pink...

Once upon a time I fell in love with a pink voice recorder so I bought it. Which lead to the decision to start writing again (after a really cool experience that I will share later). Which lead to a decision to turn the loft space in my house into a creative space--a really fun, funky, shabby chic, dripping with girly goodness creative space--which lead to my search for a fun, funky, shabby chic, dripping with girly goodness desk and or table of some sort.

Which lead to my finding this at an antique mall (the top is metal, so cool)...



Which lead to me now having the happy task of decorating my new creative space around this cute little find. And oh the ideas I have. So fun.




And now--though there is a ornery, naughty little part of me that likes having it out there (for reasons I will not discuss here)-- I need to figure out what to do with the ginormous sectional that is filling my entire front porch. Hmm...

but please hold the bull...

So I'm watching American Idol last night (me and a ba-jillion other people mind you... and yes I'm pleased with the winner but I would have been pleased either way because I liked them both) and I felt happy down to my happy bones (are there happy bones?) that Scotty sang with Mr. Tim Mcgraw himself. Now y'all know that I am not generally a country girl when it comes to music--unless of course the music is just right (for me mind you, you can like whatever you want) and I likes me some Tim Mcgraw and I also really likes me some Randy Travis and young Mr Scotty has some similarities to Mr. Travis wouldn't you say? Well I would.

So as I was saying, my happiness meter went up a little bit when I saw them singing together especially because they sang "Live Like You Were Dying" and I like that song. Yes I do. And now that song (that I like) is very much stuck in my head which has left me to ponder, "What would I do to live like I were dying?"

So I went through Mr. Mcgraw's list...

Skydiving
Rocky Mountain climbing
2.7 seconds on a bull named Fu Man Choo
Love deeper
Talk sweeter
Give forgiveness I've been denying
Watch an eagle while it was flying

Hmm...

I think I'd say yes on everything but the skydiving and bull riding (although when I discussed this matter with Waylon he lit up (like you've never seen a boy light up) over the prospect of getting to ride a bull. Seriously so excited. Guess he has a little of his Grandpa in him).

You know, I'll have to work on my list of things I'd want to accomplish if I knew my days were numbered (because they really are if you think about it, even if I have 50 to 60 years of them left) but for now I know the most important thing that I'd want to do is spend time being perfectly plugged in and present in my husband and children's lives. And right up there in importance to me would be to keep a journal. Because I know when we lose someone we love we want to hold on to any precious little tidbit of memory from the life they left behind.

So I'll continue to visit this blog to leave little pieces of me behind because even as insignificant as I may sometimes feel, I know there are people who love me just the way I am, people who will miss me when I'm gone and who will want to remember what I had to say while I was here...

And this is my gift to them.

P.S.
Another thing I'd add to my list would be to post a video of me singing "Live Like You Were Dying" here on this blog (I've been belting it out here at home let me tell you). Not because I sing well and I want you all to Ooo and Ahh over me but because I sing mediocre at best and well,
that's the whole point...

"You've gotta dance like there's nobody watching,
Love like you'll never be hurt,
Sing like there's nobody listening,
And live like it's heaven on earth."
— William W. Purkey

The time I fell in love...

Once upon a time I fell in love... but then that's jumping ahead in the story, it should really begin like this...

Once upon a time (about a week ago) I stopped to recognize that many times throughout my day my mind is flooded with thoughts. Whether they be thoughts to be added to a book manuscript or thoughts to be shared in a letter to a friend or thoughts for my children or other loved ones, thoughts on gospel principles, motivational thoughts for myself and others, thoughts on how to better navigate my way through this crazy world, thoughts, thoughts, thoughts all day long thoughts. I really do have a dizzying mind it's true.

Problem is I never take the time to write these thoughts down and sadly most of them get lost. So I said to myself, "Hey self, why don't you get a handy dandy voice recorder for your thoughts? You could keep it in your pocket all day long (for your all day long thoughts) then write down what you recorded before you go to bed at night." And then I said back to myself, "Hey self, I like that idea."

So I visited Amazon.com and that's when it happened... that's when I fell in love. Because there amongst all of the practical, professional looking voice recorders was this sweet little beauty IN PINK. Now I usually don't let myself get so silly over silly matters like this (it was a little more expensive and took a little longer to ship) but this little voice recorder spoke to me ( :} ) and it made my heart sing. And since I'm using it for creative purposes I decided that was a very good foot to start off on. Yes I did.

Now if I could only figure out how to set it up. Hmm...

Oh well my kids will be done with finals soon so maybe they can help their poor technology un-savvy mother out (what can I say, I've never even owned an MP3 player before. Well, until now because my precious little pink is one of those too. Happiness.)

Listen to your heart...

I stayed up til three in the morning last night (something I've been doing a lot lately) and in the course of my staying up I watched some episodes of Oprah that I had on my DVR, my favorite of which was a show she did on her all time favorite guests.

As I watched a wise young boy explain his philosophy on life I began to wonder what my "heart song" is. Really, what is my truest deepest heart song?

Later in the show a woman from Zimbabwe (I believe) spoke of how--though she faced many obstacles-- she was able to write her greatest dreams down on a piece of paper then bury it under a rock. And now many years later every dream on that paper (and they weren't small) has been fulfilled. So again this caused me to wonder, what dreams would I want to bury under a rock?

And then I cried a little (people who are staying up until three in the morning watching Oprah generally have something that they want to cry about) because the only dream I really have for myself at present is the dream of running away, growing a beard (perhaps bushy leg hair would be more achievable) and becoming a hermit, happily separating myself from the human race forever more (of course my husband and kids would have an open invitation to visit anytime).

Have I lost faith in the human race (myself being included in that group)? No, and I never will. I can't have an absolute testimony of the atonement of my Savior Jesus Christ without having absolute faith in man's ability to overcome and triumph. I just wouldn't mind taking a break from the frailties of those in the human race for awhile (myself being included in that group) because staying up til three in the morning to watch Oprah may be enlightening, but oh am I tired.

So very, very tired.

Can you picture that...

Remember this?

Of course you do. It's my visualization board and I've only showed it to you like 9 o'billion times. But that's only because I love it soooo much. I really do.

And now guess what (brace yourselves)...

I've made another one!!!



Ain't it so purty that you just can't stand it?

Well it is to me. But then I have a deep burning love for words, colors, pictures and metaphors. I've decided that I am a metaphor savant. It's true. You should hear what some of the pictures and phrases on this board mean to me. My girls laugh but I don't care because I'm telling you these boards really work.



And now my new board resides on my bedroom wall right next to my old one (along with a picture so graciously painted for me by my darling Marlee). They are the first things I see when I open my eyes in the morning, bringing instant happiness to my little world.

Words are very powerful. I think we all know this. So why not hand pick the words that will greet you each new day? Why not indeed. I know I will. Yep, I'll keep hand picking new words throughout the years until my entire wall is covered in them.

I get all goosebumpy just thinking about it. For real.

My morning thoughts...

Living in the "NOW" means that I get to find joy in simply watching Jamie wake up and reach for the orthopedic shoe I wore after I broke my foot. She hurt her foot the other day while playing with water in the wheelbarrow and has worn that shoe everyday since. It is too big on her and it's terribly unattractive but she wears it with such pride--a visible injury is GOLD to most kids.

I find joy in letting my kids choose how they will express themselves in this world. I'll admit that it's hard sometimes to watch some of the outfits--conjured up by imaginative hands--walk out of the house and into the big wide cruel world. It's hard not to cry out, "Conform, conform, conform--fit in with the crowd." But I don't want to do that to my kids. They are so creative and confident about which side of that line in the sand they want to stand and I never want to break that spirit.

I myself fight everyday with the notion that I must live, be, look a certain way to fit in and be admired. The voices of the world--who have traded their souls for a chance to be "normal"--ring in my ears and give me a headache. So I'm rebelling, a little each day, I'm rebelling against those voices that try to tell me that there is only one way to be if one is to be truly happy, because I'm learning that this "one perfect way" is not making me happy at all.

I do not wish to live a life of conformity. I want to make decisions based on what I feel not on what I'm "supposed" to feel. Perhaps that is why I stayed in my pajamas the entire day yesterday. I didn't lounge in them but I worked, played and lived in them. Yes all day, with a "Mrs. Goodkind" bun pulled tightly atop my head to boot (Mrs. Goodkind was a character from one of my favorite children's books, "The Firehouse Cat" and I would often feel troubled that she chose to wear such an ugly bun in her hair and felt quite certain that she would be much prettier if she let it down).

Yesterday I didn't feel the need to conform to "beauty". Yesterday I felt a little feisty and rebellious and happy to simply be present in the moment. And moment after moment of my day seemed to call for nothing grander than pajamas and a bad hair-do. So I simply lived what I felt and it was lovely.

And today? Well, today I feel like getting dressed. So that's just what I'm going to do.

A happy day for a crazy gal...

As you may be aware, yesterday was Mother's Day.
As you may also be aware, I am the mother of a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
As you may further be aware, I receive a phone call from my missionary son twice a year. On Christmas and on Mother's Day.

So yesterday was a very, very good Mother's Day for me indeed.

A talk to my son for THREE WHOLE HOURS and let the house get all messy kind of Mother's Day (of course we let the house get all messy every Sunday but whatever) and it was fabulous.

Being a mom is the bestest best thing in the world. It really is.

Every kid should get to live near a cousin...

"Yep, he's dead." Waylon announced as he and his cousin Jonah checked on the baby bird that they had tried to save the night before (they saved it from a cat's mouth. Perhaps it would have been better to let the cat finish the job, but hey, they had to try--right?).

"Well, we're learning about the cycles of nature." Waylon continued, "And this is one of the cycles of nature."

"Yeah... dying." Jonah whispered solemnly.

"People die all the time." Waylon added, "It's just one of those things."

Jonah and Waylon have the best conversations. I love listening to them (especially when they don't know I'm there). Waylon is a very matter of fact, "this is just how life goes" kind of kid and Jonah is very mindful and tender hearted, but they will both fiercely defend their point of view and they are both extraordinary story tellers. Seriously, they scare each other to death all of the time. Jonah had Waylon so scared of a bully at school named Tony that Waylon was ready to call off his education all together.

"I think Jonah is just telling you a story." I told Waylon.

"No he's not." Waylon insisted. "Tony gave Jonah a bloody lip and sent him to the hospital and everything." (Okay, I'm thinking the family chat lines would have been lit up had this really happened.)

"Waylon I'm pretty sure Jonah is just messing with you." I reassured him again.

"No mom it's true. Tony is the worst bully at school and I don't want to go back there."

"Well do you know Tony's last name so I can talk to the teacher about it?" I asked.

"Yeah his last name is Hawk, Tony Hawk."

Tony Hawk?



Um... yeah.

So cute.

Letters from Landon, thou shalt not kill edition...

As I've mentioned before, Monday is email day from our dear Mr. Landon. Have I told you that I love email day? Well, I do. And I love this experience that Landon shared with us yesterday. So much so that I want to share it with you.

So without further ado I give you an excerpt from our~

LETTERS FROM LANDON

...another day this week we came in an hour early and i felt like we should go walk around the local area. we went, knocked on a couple doors, nothing happened. we were walking through the parking lot to go in for the night when a man called after us. we walked up to him to see he had tears just streaming down his face. he said he needed us to say a prayer with him. he was really angry at someone and was contemplating going to their house and killing them. we got down on the ground of that parking lot and prayed with him, after that we talked to him for a while to calm him down. we felt prompted to give him a Book of Mormon and gave him a chapter to read. he said he would go home and read it right then and go to sleep afterward. a few days later we saw him again, he told us "i've been reading that book you gave me, i read a lot of it. It helped me out so much. I'm not angry at that man anymore. and usually by this time I start drinking, but right now i'm just sticking with tea" It was a miracle to say the least. Dad, I know this work is true and that is why all these struggles are worth it. They are totally worth it. I just wish there was more i could do, just like Alma says "oh, that I were an angel".

Have I told you that I love that kid?
Well, I do.

Hope Springs Eternal...

(Rick was trying to make a serious, sophisticated expression, but he kinda just looks mad. The silly)

We just got back from an amazing weekend adventure, my husband and I. So amazing, so uplifting, so life changing. Seriously WE ARE HAVING THE TIME OF OUR LIVES.

At one point over the weekend Rick said, "This sure beats being at work."

I then reminded him, "This is our work! And most likely will be our FULL-TIME work someday!"

Pinch me.

I can't believe I'm involved in something that does so much good for so many people and fills me with warm fuzzy happiness, encouraging me to love and be loved, nearly everyday of my life.

I can't believe I'm involved in something that promotes change in my life and helps me to contribute to the change in others.

Those who read this blog know that the idea of personal progression is one of my favorite things about being alive, so to be involved in a career choice that lets me focus on progression in life, in hope, and in happiness is a bit surreal to say the least.

Life is a gift and my gratitude runneth over.