Should-a, Would-a, Could-a

It's too bad I didn't see this item when I was shopping for a great Christmas gift for the golf-loving man in my life. Really, just too bad.

Livin' Large

Another fine image driving around my little town.

My Civic Duty

I opened the official-looking letter only to discover that I had received a "summons for jury duty". My obligation included going to an evening orientation meeting and learning that my term of service was for the entire month October 2010.

I really hoped that I would not be selected to sit on a jury. Each excuse I thought of sounded so weak and lazy. The week my group number was selected I dutifully showed up on time an sat through two and a half hours of juror selection and I became interested in the judicial process. Secretly, inside I began hoping that I would be selected, we had learned that it was a criminal trial.

By 11:00 AM I was the proud owner of a badge that read JUROR 27. I felt very important.

The trial was for a felony charge of aggravated sexual assault. The plaintiff was a 10-year old girl. The defendant was a 23 year-old man.

I immediately asked Heavenly Father to bless me with the spirit, to help me discern truth and see things as they really are.

Without going into the details of the testimonies, it was clear to me that the defendant was guilty. One more prayer was offered because sometimes I wonder if what I felt was really the Holy Ghost or I imagined it. Then to seal the guilty verdict in my heart, the Spirit testified to me that my thoughts and feelings were spot on accurate and I knew then I had an advantage going in to jury deliberation.

The jurors were excused to the deliberation room where we were to come to a unanimous verdict. Three of the twelve jurors had "reasonable doubt". We discussed those doubts recalling what each witness said and offered explanations when necessary. Within 45 minutes we unanimously delivered a guilty verdict to the judge. Returning to the courtroom the verdict was read by the judge. The defendant's family members gave us the dirtiest looks and stink eyes.

Now back to the deliberation room to decide on the penalty. Our guidelines were:

No less than 1 year
No more than 20 years

No less than $1,000
No more than $20,000

There will be no parole.

Consider the witnesses and defendant's education level, personality, body language, and prior convictions.

The penalty decision took 30 minutes. We gave him 14 years and a $1,000 penalty. He will now have two titles attached to him for the rest of his life. FELON AND CHILD MOLESTER.

He will be 37 years old when he is released. Maybe he will get his GED in prison.

Tingers

It started when Em was about 2 years old. She was not quite adept at using the remote control for the television, so while lying on the floor she would stretch her cute little piggies out to reach the TV and change the channel.

It proved to be a skill that has served her well, even now. Only now, I see her changing the music in the car with her tingers. It's not that her toes are longer than normal, she uses them as if they were fingers. In a playful moment she will pinch with them. Ouch! She calls the pinch a "smurf bite" and it's especially painful on the back of my upper arm. She picks things up with them cause it's easier than bending down.


I remember when those piggies were so tiny and clean. What is it about baby's feet? I love them, weird I know, you probably do too.

She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not

Emmy tells me she loves me then she tells me "you're soooo annoying". She wears my shoes, my makeup and my jewelry.

The pendulum of emotions swings back and forth with regularity. It's as if she's saying "I can't live with you and I can't live without you".

I know what she really means. I also know if I let her live, she will emerge from this cloud of confusion and jump off the fickle love you/hate you roller coaster.

For now, I will take the "I love you" moments when they're offered and gulp them like I do an ice cold diet coke. AND I will also snap a photo for evidence that she loves me.

One gloomy afternoon I was lying on the sofa reading and Emmy came and joined me for an afternoon snooze. I'd say right now she loves me.

Highlights of my 2010 Summer

Long walks with my favorite pal.
















Being greeted by my four-footed friend at the mid-way point on my daily walks.









Laughing at Emma and Murray freeze their piggies in the mountain crick in Lamb's Canyon, Utah.














Murray getting a pedicure. As he entered the shop
I overheard him saying, "dudes don't get pedicures".




















Hot-tub fun in Park City Utah with him.









Stumbling upon these two clowns just in time to pay their bill. They'll let anybody in a restaurant these days.










My favorite walk of the Summer. Park City, Utah, just east of town. Beautiful!!









Lunch, Dinner or bedtime snack at Pancho Villa's. It's their fault I have a chip and salsa addiction, I swear they put something in their salsa; it keeps me coming back for more.
















Late afternoon thunderstorms.

















I finally found a license plate that describes one of my personality traits.

Games People Play and Whisperings of the Spirit

During reverent Sunday worship, my yearning to have a meaningful experience with the Holy Ghost bestowing further light and knowledge upon me was interrupted by the family sitting in front of me.

What did my eyes behold you ask? None other than the Stake Primary President teaching us how to embarrass our children. She placed kiddie stickers on the backs of her two teen-aged sons' shirts. You know the kind; stickers that say, "I was good today", "Good Work" or "I'm a Superstar". Oh, she took delight in this shameful behavior while leaning over to one of her angel offspring to hiss "pay attention" and give him the stink eye.

Her daughters joined in the fun by surreptitiously passing stickers down the row, bypassing the boys, so each brother would have his turn wearing preschool stickers on his back.


Seeing the devilish look in their eyes made the mischief fun to watch and I even heard the Holy Ghost whisper to me. He said something like "Take a picture of Murray sleeping in church"

So I did.

Shhh... don't tell anyone.

Texting in Church

Let's say that during a particularly attention-grabbing Sunday school class a certain sister sent a text message to the dashing man sitting in the chair next to her that went something like this:

"Want to blow this joint and go to Krispi Kreme?"

Thinking that he would probably reply with something along the lines of "not on the Sabbath", she was surprised when no reply was received. You know, fat fingers often hit the wrong keys.

A few minutes later the dashing fellow nudged her arm and passed his cell phone over indicating for her to read the message on the screen.

His response: "Sounds good, let's have sex too"

Daughter's response: "Did you mean to send this to Mom?"

I laughed so hard, The dashing fellow was red-in-the-face embarrassed, laughing along with me.

Daughter texts again : "I've been traumatized."

Good for a Chuckle

Is this my sister's car? I don't think her kids are unsocialized.

In Loving Memory of . . . .

As I have mentioned before, in this neck of the woods we can easily see the purpose of all the people driving on the roads. Just yesterday I discovered the owner of this car has a valid reason for crusin' around town.

I didn't know whether to laugh or share the plan of salvation with Crystal's mother.

Yea, I'll Keep Her Around

My #3 daughter is old enough to be responsible and trustworthy. She is anxious and eager to please me, her beloved mother and now I have concrete evidence that she can promptly do exactly what I ask her to do.

Yesterday, I was half way into my 1.5 hour walk when a huge thunderstorm instantly blew in. One minute the skies were clear blue and the next minute they were gray and the wind began blowing, really hard and fast and the torrential rain and thunder quickly followed.

I knew I wouldn't make it home so I ducked under some trees for protection and waited for a short time hoping the storm would blow over. But it was not to be. I took a few photos with my iPhone and then called #3, when she didn't answer I knew she was snoozing on the family room couch and didn't want to get up to answer the phone.

I left her a message that went something like this:

" Hey kiddo, it's mom, please answer the phone now, come on, pick up the phone PLEASE, Honey, it's raining very hard and I'm at the end of FL Parkway, please come and pick me up".

I hung up hoping she was listening to the message as I left it on the answering machine. Mere seconds later she called me back. "OK, Mom where are you again? OK, I'll be right there". She showed up 10 minutes later in Daddy's car to chauffeur me home. She is my crazy daughter with a big heart. I am glad she jumped at the chance to pull herself from an afternoon snooze to drive without a license and save me from a summer thunderstorm.

I have a list of reasons why I'll keep her around. Someday I'll share them with you

2,345 Minutes

This week I calculated the time I've spent walking the last 6 weeks; 2,345 minutes. It's slightly impressive seeing as I was a couch potato until 42 days ago.

The time I spend outside walking is like a gift to me. I smell the honeysuckle on the vine, mmmm, mmmmm, yummy. The peony bushes are in full bloom 'round these parts. Beautiful large blooms, one of my favorite spring flowers.

I pass by a random lonely mailbox but can not find the house it goes with. Who gets mail delivered to a solitary mailbox? Maybe the neighorhood pervert has his girly magazines and ED pills delivered there. Crazy, I know.

Oh, yesterday Dr. Laura said that we stay in bad situations because we don't feel like we deserve anything better. Should she make a blanket statement like that? If I find myself between a rock and a hard place I'm going to walk myself right out of the situation.

Life is good to me.

My Daily Walk

Something I saw on my walk today.

Two months ago I began, again, one of my favorite activities, long walks outside. It took me a couple of weeks to build up my endurance and find the correct fitting shoes so I could finish a five mile route in my neighborhood. I'm happy to say that I now walk that route 5 days a week and it's the highlight of my day.

I swallowed my vanity and followed my doctor's orders and purchased a cool vest to wear in the summer heat. It's "cool" as in temperature cool. It's definitely not a cool look, the interior pockets hold frozen packs so my body temp stays on the cool side. I look like a very uncool chick with football padding worn over my t-shirt. How many times can I use the word cool in this paragraph?

I grab my iPhone and a bottle of water and I'm on my way to a better life.

• I no longer have to go to the tanning booth, to make myself feel better about being in the sun, I tell my magnificent svelte self I am building up my Vitamin D level.
• I save money by not shopping. I find clothes fit better.
• I still allow myself to eat chips and salsa with a Diet Coke. See... I walk off the evidence of any such gorging.
• I learn how to be "my kid's mother and my husband's girlfriend" by listening to Dr. Laura Schlessinger while I walk.

Love em, love em, Love my walks.

Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

Forty years ago my parents bought a sofa at the neighborhood yard sale. It was 12 feet long and sat about 20 people.

A few years later while taking a upholstery class, they brought new life to that ugly duck of a sofa.

For years it was put to good use. When you are home from school sick, it was the place to heal with the barf bucket on the floor close by while Mom let us watch television.

Each Monday during FHE it was the coveted seat, but you know even though we could all have fit on that classy sofa, we didn't want the sit that close to each other.

My Mom laid on that sofa as she was dying of cancer 26 years ago. She wanted to be apart of the comings and goings of her family and the sofa allowed her to keep tabs on us.

The grandchildren used it like a piece of tumbling apparatus. Start on one end and hop all the way to the other end. Who could do it in the least number of hops? Or how many somersaults can to do from one end to the other? When the frame started to come apart my Dad simply tied it together with a piece of rope.

(Emma, lounging one last time before it's timely demise.)

Well... jump to present day and bid adieu to to the best seat in the house. After countless efforts on behalf of my Dad's wife and his daughters to get rid of the ugly sofa it's finally made its way to the sofa graveyard. I think my Dad shed a few tears as his old faithful companion was hauled away.

Scarface

You'll never believe it, but the car door swung right into his head, all on its own.

Crazy, I know.

Because I Just Couldn't, I Want to Know if You Would

No, I just couldn't put this on my car. My #1 daughter snapped this picture in a retail parking lot in Orem, UT. We had a good laugh and promised never to do this.

Would you put this on your car?

Do you think it will take over as the next "gotta have" item on the Wasatch front?

The Law Says She Can and She Says She'll Just Die if She Doesn't

I do my best to stay out of the DMV. I'm not a fan of long lines and crowds of people. However, recently my #3 daughter reached the magical age when the state says she can apply for her Learner's Driving Permit. There was all kinds of excitement displayed with end-zone dancing and woot-woot-ing when the official day arrived.

We delayed our spring-trip long enough to stop at the DMV and wait in line to get a number only to sit in a chair and wait for that number to be called. #3 wanted Daddy to wait in line with her. I know they use this time to conspire for the new Camaro they want when she turns 16 years old. Shh... they don't stand a chance with the Camaro .

Two hours later her test was graded and she passed. She danced a little holding the permit up by her mega-watt smile and made her way to us. "Dad, can I drive now?" "Please, please, please?"


She hopped right in the saddle, made her way to the interstate and drove us toward our destination.

So, another milestone has been reached and she's one step closer to becoming independent.

I'm excited for her and me too, next year she will be driving to early-morning seminary.

I Never Knew

I never knew that men have an unwritten code they must follow when using a public restroom. This new found knowledge made me laugh, really hard. During dinner with friends the conversation turned to the bathroom habits of the men and women.
MEN
-Always go to restroom alone.
-Always leave an empty stall or urinal between you and the next guy. If one isn't
available, leave the restroom and come back later.
-Never, absolutely never talk to other guys in the restroom.
-Under no circumstances do your eyes wander to your right or left while using a urinal.
-Guys don't wash their hands!! Amazingly yucky!






The
menfolk at the table asked why girls always go the the


bathroom in pairs. This is where the differences begin. You see, the girls have a juicy conversation going on and we are perfectly comfortable leaving the table together and talk, talk, talk all the way to the restroom

We count it a great event when we can use side by side stalls, it makes it easier to to "share a square" or two or three. The conversation even continues here, there are some thing that must be said.

While we wash our hands, and yes we always do, we talk about the ruggedly handsome men we are dining with. I'm comforted to know that my hands are clean and my date for the evening won't be exposed to any disease I picked up from the ladies' room.

My New Favorite Doctor

Have you ever felt like the world around you is spinning and you have no control over it? Because I occassionally feel this very annoying sensation my neurologist sent me to the ENT clinic. While sitting in the waiting room, like others I know and love, I glanced around and saw old white haired folks with hearing aids and beamed knowing that I can hear perfectly fine, I just have dizzy spells every now and then.

Soon my name was called and was ushered into an examining room where I waited for the doctor to waltz in. Ten minutes later in walks Dr. Oliver who explains that he will go over some information with me while we wait for Dr. Hashisaki to arrive. While he glances at the personal information form I filled out as a new patient he makes small talk.

"I see you had a cesarean section"

"Yes"

"How old is that child now?"

"She's 26"

"Really, wow, I would have guessed you to be only a few years older than that."

I laugh and thank him for the compliment as he flips pages in my file, I know he's looking for my birth date and he's having difficulty separating the pages so I help him out by saying "It's in there, I'll be 49 next month."

Dr. Oliver then says "you look like you're in your mid-thirties, you really do."

A few minutes later as he looked into my ears, nose and throat and listened to my heart and lungs he said "I'm not trying to be a cheesy guy, you do look like your are in your thirties."

This time I laughed and told him he's now my favorite doctor.

He finished the inquisition about my symptoms and excused himself to fetch Dr. H

Dr. H arrived and we talked about my "episodes" and he then explained that he would like to run some balance tests that will help determine if the dizzy episodes are rooted with any scarring in my brain from M.S. or if it's inner ear related. He explained each test will will try to induce dizziness. OMG, I don't want to feel dizzy, it's so horrible and makes me vomit.

What to do? What to do? I acquiesced under one condition, that my new favorite doctor be there to hold my hand throughout the tests.

It's Here Again

We won't see the grass until Easter rolls around this Spring. It's snowing again! There is already 16 inches on the ground from December, yeah.... 6 weeks ago and it's still here.

Now there is a huge blizzard coming our way with a promise for 20 inches of pure-white glorious mess on the ground. As I bemoan my current situation the lovely one-of-a-kind flakes are falling to the already frozen ground.

Please don't worry, we are prepared. We have food, satellite TV, gasoline in the cars, and too many board games to list. Of course we only have one snow shovel, guess who's gonna use that?

I'm off to make some whip up some warm goodies for the old man shoveling the driveway and front walk.

There has been a three-day pause in my writing and I'm just now completing this post. Here's the rest of our snow-filled adventures.

A few days ago after the 18" of snowfall Murray was calling each single sister in our ward to check on them and found a few who needed help shoveling their driveway. Before he left to lend a helping hand we received a call from our Bishop asking us if we could take in a young family in our ward whose home lost power. This was definitely something I did not want to do. Now, nothing against this young family, I don't know them but in my defense; they have a young toddler and I didn't want to play "hostess with the most-est". But I suddenly remembered a commitment I made to support the Bishop. I could think of ten thousand other places they could go but the Bishop didn't ask for suggestions.

Their home teacher (whose power was also out) brought them over and I put on my hostess smile. I quickly put on my thinking cap and came up with something for dinner because it was Super Bowl Sunday and we made plans to snack on goodies today and throughout the evening.

Sometime that night before the Super Bowl ended the power was restored to their neighborhood. They stayed until the next day and made their way back home. So now I have a question for you. When you are a guest do you clean up after yourself? Do you strip the dirty sheets off the bed and ask the hostess what she'd like you to do with them or leave the bed unmade? Would you fold up the blankets you cuddled under while watching the game neatly or leave them in piles on the couches? There's more I'm curious about but I'll stop there.

I think back to when we were young parents and imagine we still had some maturing to do. I hope we were polite guests and left our hostess with no added burden of cleaning up our mess. In support of our young guests, I'm sure they would have rather been in their own home around their own comforts and routine.

So tonight we are getting even more snow, 10" the experts tell us. Snow on top of snow. Best of all, my man of the hour is coming back in town just in time to don his boots and grab the shovel again.

Catch Up

While I try to come up with something witty or profound to write, I find I am totally blank. Why do I struggle to put words on paper? I know just what it is, I like to call it "brain fuzz" and it hit me some time last year. It's rather frustrating and I don't like it. Why didn't any of my older female friends warn me about the perimenopausal life? I'm hanging on for dear life and bracing for this wild ride.

Two of my patients at the Assisted Living Center died last week. They were both in their late 80's and they knew the end of their life was near. They've been released from their old, broken- down bodies and I will miss my visits with these two ladies who taught me how to live gracefully to the end.

On the home front, Alaina came home during December, after much begging and pleading she allowed me take a picture of her. I love, love my first-born girl. It's a pity that she has grown up and now has a real life and a real job that often trumps my need for Lanie time. I see a trip outWest in my near future, you know...... just so I can get my Lanie fix.

Murray loves his girls. He's in heaven when they snuggle up to him. If only the chatter would someday end. They laugh, argue and talk non stop all day long. I don't know how to use the photo editing tools on my new iMac computer. That's my next project, master this new computer.

There is more to share with you. I just have to get the photos together and post written. I will capture a moment while the brain fuzz is dormant and get it all down on paper.