A Life Well-Lived

Relevancy and Redundancy

2012-01-16T15:30:00.000-08:00

In the British TV show "One Foot in the Grave," the main character, Victor Meldrew, an older man, is forcibly retired from his job-"redundant," they call it.

I am beginning to understand the reason older people seem to endlessly discuss their past triumphs. They seek to remain relevant in a world that, increasingly, does not need them. I think that is why a lot of people do not retire--they want to feel a part of things.

So what is my function now? I feel increasingly irrelevant. Sure, I do things for my husband and family, but they do not necessarily need me as they once did. I no longer work outside the home, either. What function do I fulfill?

Every week when I talk to my dad, we have the same conversation. He bitterly decries the downfall of society--a place he no longer recognizes. My sister got him some kind of an electronic tablet for Christmas--he asked her for a manual to learn how to use it. There is no such thing as a manual--you go online for tutorials. This, from the man who dragged his boss, kicking and screaming, into the 20th century when he convinced him to buy a computer back in the late sixties. I suppose I am headed for a similar fate.

Fortunately, the Church has a program for older people to keep on serving. I can do volunteer work, help those in my ward, and work in the Temple. I hope those things fill the hollow place where my mother-busy life once was.

Love Thy Neighbor

2012-01-15T13:48:00.000-08:00

On Christmas we attended church with our son, Ethan, and his (pregnant) wife, Sarah. They attend a rather small branch in, of all places, Orem, Utah. There are a few older people in the branch, and a gray-haired gentleman spoke that day.

It's rare that a particular comment really sticks with me, but one thing this man said did: "The Lord is just as interested in the happiness and well-being of your neighbors as he is in yours."

Wow.

Now, I do try to love my neighbors. I believe benevolence, kindness, and tolerance are due to every one of God's children, unless he or she is threatening my life or someone else's. But we human beings tend to be pretty self-centered. I'm pretty wrapped up in my own problems and concerns, happiness being one of them. Still, I think I am generally loving toward my fellow man; I certainly believe in working to make others feel loved and valued. Even so, this succinct statement jolted me into really putting myself into others' shoes. I'm not really so special that the Lord loves me better than anyone else, even my neighbors with cranky tendencies.

Lifting our eyes from our own navels is something we need to do now and then. As we study the life of the prophet George Albert Smith this year, who truly embodied love for one's fellow men, I hope to increase my service and love toward others.

The Honeymoon is Over

2011-11-07T11:19:00.000-08:00

With my new car, that is. We bought a Hyundai Sonata nine months ago, and we liked it--until Saturday, when I went to a friend's for a baby shower. When I got into it, it would not start.

Not a problem with the battery, not a problem with my key fob. It has a push-button starter--right there you multiply your problems, because you rely on electronics to start the car. Roadside assistance sent a tow truck and back it went to the dealership. They diagnosed it with a problem in the brake. You have to be pressing on the brake when you hit the starter. It somehow miscommunicated with the starter, and I guess it didn't know I was pressing on the brake.

Oh, well.

The other problem that has me more than a bit perturbed is that the driver's side seat is showing signs of wear. Now, these seats are supposed to be leather. The portion that is showing the wear is definitely not leather; it's vinyl. I showed it to the guy at the dealership and made it quite clear that this is not acceptable. I would expect it at 100,000 miles, not 10,000. Since we keep our cars to about 160,000, I need a seat that will hold up. And no, I should not have to put covers on it!

Wow, so much for my theme.

Countdown to a Wedding!

2011-10-02T06:09:00.000-07:00

Wow. Less than a week until my youngest is married. I can't believe that she's old enough to take this step!

I love October. I'm glad she is getting married this month. My other two have July anniversaries. My birthday is in October, and I love Halloween. This is just one more thing to love about this month.

My daughter is so happy. She will be a beautiful, radiant bride. It's such fun to plan a wedding when there's happy anticipation for everyone.

Surprising myself, I decided to do the wedding flowers with artificial ones. They turned out surprisingly well, especially Meredith's bouquet, which features tiny photo frames with other family women. Mom, mother-in-law, grandmothers, great-grandmothers, sisters, sisters-in-law, all are in there. I bought tiny frames, my husband and son shrank the photos, and I glued and wired stems to each frame and added it to the bouquet. Meredith also added some little trinkets that were special for her. I used artificial roses, buds, and peonies with lemon leaves and phony hydrangea leaves from the bridesmaids' bouquets. I also made boutonnieres and a corsage. The little flower girl will have a yellow calla lily bouquet and a freshwater pearl bracelet made by yours truly.

I am in a rush to get my house looking decent before the in-laws come over for the reception here after the wedding. My windows are disgraceful--but I don't know if we will get to them before we leave. I hate doing the windows. I always break a nail pulling out the storm windows or the screens. However, I think I will have to do at least the four in the living room and the three in the kitchen, just so it looks like I'm a good housekeeper!

The Shape of Mercy

2011-09-05T05:13:00.001-07:00

Yesterday, I finished a wonderful book, The Shape of Mercy, by Susan Meissner. The story involved a wealthy, privileged contemporary young woman transcribing a 300-year-old diary of a girl, Mercy, accused of witchcraft at Salem. The story moves between her first-person account about doing the transcription and Mercy's first-person account of her life and the accusations in Salem.

Its main theme is judgement--how we all are biased and make judgements about other people, often not knowing any facts or taking any thought about the other person's experience. I try hard not to do this; a book influenced me greatly so that I could take it to the next level: Bonds that Make us Free, by C. Terry Warner. I have been re-reading another book by Warner's Arbinger Institute, Leadership and Self-Deception. Kind of a simplistic read, but very enlightening nonetheless.

Of course, it's no accident that the accused girl is named Mercy in the first book. Judgement and mercy. I was brought up in a very judgemental atmosphere, and there was not a lot said about mercy. It's been difficult turning my back on that behavior, but I believe in mercy. Mostly because I am grateful for the Atonement of Jesus Christ, and His mercy toward us all. I certainly need it.

Jesus Loves Me, This I Know

2011-06-12T18:44:00.000-07:00

If only I could find a way to really love myself.

I have my moments, to be sure, when I feel the Spirit and all is right with the world. I definitely feel better when I am eating properly, accomplishing things, and of course, saying my prayers and reading my scriptures. But all too often, I find myself dwelling on my shortcomings rather than my assets.

Today we discussed talents in Relief Society. The teacher used a great analogy with a five-dollar bill. She asked us if we wanted it--of course we did. Then she crumpled it up, threw it on the floor, and stomped on it, and of course we still wanted it. That is because regardless of its condition or treatment, it still has value.

As do we. And it doesn't matter what our value is: we still have it. I know that I have talents, but I also seem to have more than my share of problems, sometimes. I have the exercise thing down, for now, but I have messed up on the eating thing, to the point that I am physically uncomfortable. You'd think that would be enough incentive to get on the stick.

Time for me to go to the temple again. I love going there: it grounds me and gives me the strength to go on.

At One With

2011-04-18T09:08:00.001-07:00

Yesterday I gave a talk in church on the Atonement of Jesus Christ. Since it was Palm Sunday, I concentrated on the entrance of Christ into the city of Jerusalem and what he did over the next few days, culminating in his agony in Gethsemane, where he performed the Atonement.

To prepare for this, I took out Jesus the Christ, by James Talmadge, which I had never read before. I studied and really thought about the events of that Passover evening, now known as Maundy Thursday. Christ and the apostles were in an upper room of a home, had the meal, and Jesus introduced the sacrament. Something I'd never noticed before was that the apostles were contending about the seating arrangements and their precedence. Christ put a stop to that, emphasizing that regardless of a person's rank, service to others is the more important value.

In the United States, we believe in equality, not in rank. While we honor the President and other public servants, we don't believe in divine right, as they do/did in Europe. We are all God's children, who kept our first estate and deserve respect as such--even the wino on Skid Row. Our character, behavior, works and service are what determine our eventual rank in the Kingdom. Self-righteousness and pride have no place in our lives.

The word "atonement" means "at one with." We have the opportunity to be at one with our Father in Heaven and Jesus Christ if we choose to humble ourselves and strive to serve Him and our fellow man. Christ showed us the way. "The Son of Man hath descended below them all. Art thou greater than he?"

Eat, Pray, Love

2011-03-26T19:49:00.000-07:00

Five years have now passed since I was diagnosed and treated for cancer.

Five years.

And I am okay. I didn't even notice when March 20th came and went--the day I got the news five years ago.

Everyone expects to learn something from such a hardship. I don't think I learned anything, really, except that cancer really sucks and there are a lot of people affected by it--in most cases far worse than I.

I have received miracles and answers to prayer. I am learning that life doesn't necessarily get easier, but the miracle is that we are so loved by God and other people. I am grateful for dear husband, who loves and supports me unconditionally. And I am okay. It's okay not to be perfect. It's okay to fail sometimes, as long as we get up, make the amends we need to make, and get busy again.

I want to eat well. I want to pray sincerely. I want to love deeply and wholly. Most of all, I want to bless the lives of those around me.

Field of Dreams

2011-02-26T20:38:00.000-08:00

I watched the movie "Field of Dreams" tonight. I had never seen it before, though I knew the basic story. A man, whose father died before he could make amends, hears voices telling him to build a baseball field in the middle of his Iowa cornfield. He then begins to get visits from long-dead baseball stars, who come to play in his field.

At one point, he makes contact with a (dead) doctor whose dreams of becoming a baseball player were thwarted after only one inning of a major league game. The doctor ends up on the playing field as a young man, and actually gets to hit and run the bases. But then the daughter of the farmer falls off the bleachers. She is unconscious. The young ballplayer crosses over to her, becomes the old doctor again, and loses his opportunity to play in the field. However, he served a long life as the doctor in a small town, serving his fellow men. It's clear that though he had a dream, he chose a different path, and in so doing chose the better part.

Someone asked me what my dreams were a few weeks ago. It has made me think about what I have done, and still have left to do, with my life. I am coming to a grand turning point. Did I choose the better part? Was my true calling to be a good wife and mother? I'm not a famous author, newscaster, or actress.

But, yes, I have chosen the better part. Seductive as the things and accolades of the world are, they are not as important as performing the necessary tasks of life as well as we possibly can. How can I not be grateful for my life, my family, God, and the opportunities of ordinary mortality?

Weaknesses of the Human Body

2011-01-14T18:04:00.000-08:00

Ugh. I feel like a prisoner in my body lately.

Why, do you ask? Because I have a sinus infection/cold, headaches along with it, and a problem with my left hip flexor that looks like tendonitis. I am also experiencing symptoms of perimenopause--which is NO FUN. Let alone that pesky 15 pounds I just can't seem to lose.

I know bodies are a trial to a great extent--we need to overcome their natural tendencies (to eat too much, sleep too much, and if you're not a practicing Mormon like me, to drink too much) and of course to overcome the flaws in our personalities--which often are linked with our bodies' problems, such as hormonal mood swings that cause irritability. Yes, unfortunately, I know a bit about that.

It's hard to know just how much is physical and how much is mental when it comes to health. I don't have any answers; I do have a dear friend who is a Christian Scientist who, in spite of the usual problems, seems to sail through life with a very positive attitude and is pretty healthy.

Whoever said getting old is not for wimps got it right. An aging body is full of not-so-great surprises. Oh well.

Repondez, s'il vous plait!

2010-12-27T18:40:00.000-08:00

Sports fans, the title of this blog is no mistake. It is the exhortation to please respond. Not that I am asking you to respond to me; I am asking you to respond to your potential hosts or hostesses!

Really! Pick up the phone or send a note or an email with either your regrets or acceptance to his or her soiree! It's not that hard, people, and your hostess wants you to do it so she may plan accordingly.

It's just not optional. If the host puts R.s.v.p. on the invitation, for crying out loud, respond! Even if he doesn't put it on, respond anyway! Help the poor individual who is trying, against a mighty social tide of indifference, to entertain you and share your company.

And while we're at it, only the people to whom an invitation is addressed are the invited parties! From time to time, if you have an extra houseguest and your potential host is a close friend, you may ask if your extra person may be included. But don't substitute your kid for your husband if he can't make it, or bring your kids with you when their names are not included on an invitation. And don't ask. If your hostess meant for your kids to come, she would have included "and family" or their names on the invitation.

Finally, send a thank-you note when you have partaken of someone's hospitality. You do not always have to bring a hostess gift, expecially when you are not staying overnight, but a nice bread-and-butter note is always a nice surprise and greatly appreciated. And it should go without saying that you send a note in thanks for a gift.

Sigh.

Travel is Broadening

2010-12-05T06:07:00.000-08:00

We succumbed to the lure of the Caribbean cruise, and spent a week on a ship to celebrate our 30th anniversary later this month.

I felt the facility left something to be desired (none too clean and almost every piece of upholstery needed redoing; food was mediocre) but I enjoyed the ports of call.

It is very clear to me why people in Central America and Mexico want to live in America illegally. Even the worst slum I have seen in this country hardly compares to a lot of the living conditions in Belize. We saw some Mayan ruins there, and to get there took a long bus ride on a narrow, very bumpy road. There were a few nice homes, but most people lived in corrugated iron shacks with no window glass. The area near the docks was okay, but again, nothing compared to Florida or California, or even Cozumel, Mexico.

Guatemala is a beautiful country, but again people lived in relative squalor. There are no true sand beaches there that I saw, but it is very green and hilly. They have a great shipping industry, too, so I hope the commerce there will eventually raise the standard of living.

The Americans on the cruise were very obese. It was amazing--I have never been around so many fat people at once in my life. It was possible to eat very healthfully on the cruise, but it was also possible to eat a lot of junk--including cheap ice cream, cookies, and bland, tasteless desserts. The best dessert I had was a dish of raspberry sherbet.

There was a lot of hard selling of jewelry and art--and only some of these things were truly worth buying. There were some Picassos and Ertes and even a couple of Peter Max paintings, but a lot of it was very pedestrian, including the Painter of Schmaltz, Thomas Kincaid.

Cozumel was very tourist-trap, but a lot of fun. We had a fantastic lunch at a restaurant called Pancho's Backyard. Best taquitos with guacamole and salsa I've ever had.

The key lime pie on Key West was surprisingly underwhelming. My own is better!

Wes drank Cokes in every country to compare them. Yes, there is a Coca-Cola bottling company in Belize!

Nice to come home, though. It was fun, diverting and broadening (and we bracketed the trip with trips to the Disney resorts and Downtown Disney, which was, as always, lots of fun) but now it's time to get down to business for Christmas!

On Athletics and Authority

2010-11-25T08:20:00.000-08:00

Can we ever surmount the traumas we experience as young children? I don't know.

I do know that if you are blessed with a strong character, you can push forward in spite of them.

This morning, as I worked out in Jazzercise class, the subject of shoelaces came up. They don't seem to stay tied as readily as they did when I was a child, because now they are made of polyester which is much more slippery than the good old cotton ones I had in my sturdy leather orthopedic shoes. (The cotton ones broke a lot, though.)

Those shoes were the bane of my existence. I hated them. Not only were they ugly, the slick leather soles made me unsure on my feet; I could not run well in them and I was constantly falling down. I earned the reputation, and felt the stigma, of being non-athletic. This was the kiss of death in the American elementary schoolyard of the 1960s.

I was born with a congenital deformation of the bones in my legs and feet. My feet curved in, my knees knocked, and my hipbones are angled differently than most people's. To this day I sleep with my toes facing in, and I still throw my left foot in slightly when I walk.

My mother adored, even worshipped, our pediatrician, who should have known that I needed outflare shoes and special diapers or a foot bar to keep my hips positioned so they would develop properly. Instead, once I started walking I was prescribed special shoes which were ugly leather oxfords and cost a fortune. I wore them every day, including summertimes, until the sixth grade.

It wasn't until I had kids with the same problems that I learned that orthotic inserts could be made to correct the problem. My kids wore the outflare shoes and had a bar attached while they slept, which worked wonders. I was so chagrined to find out these appliances had been available since World War II.

One day, my preschooler son was attempting to climb some chain rigging at the playground in his leather-soled shoes. He slipped and couldn't climb well, while my friend's daughter, shod in sneakers, nimbly climbed right up. It dawned on me: the shoes had been my problem. My parents never gave it a thought. To them, leather shoes were better because that's what good parents put on their children, while sneakers were a sign of poverty. Even living in Los Angeles, they never even tried to find an alternative to my pricey shoes that would be more stylish (all the other girls had go-go boots) and give me a purchase on that playground tarmac. I don't know why they didn't take me to a podiatrist or an orthopedic specialist, who would have had access to more options.

So I grew up thinking I was awkward, un-athletic, nerdy, uncool. Even though this doesn't matter now, it had a profound effect on my self-image as I grew up. Truth to tell, I could dance and ice skate well. I now do aerobic dance for exercise, and I am good at it.

My parents' generation did not question authority, and so accepted what was told to them. I so, so wish my mother had found a more personable, sympathetic doctor than the one we had--who was too cold and businesslike to be dealing with children. Maybe such a doctor didn't exist.

As an adult, I now do physical things I hated as a child, and though I don't necessarily enjoy sports, I am not afraid to try them. But those years of being unsure on my feet marked me for life. It's hard to unlearn something learned so early, but it can be recognized and compensated for.

Ronnie, We Miss You

2010-11-14T20:40:00.000-08:00

I saw a t-shirt in a catalog recently. It was a picture of Ronald Reagan, with the caption, "Miss me yet?"

Yeah, I'll say we miss you.

Ronald Reagan understood the American people. He was one of them. He wasn't afraid to do the right thing. He was not afraid of calling a spade a spade (the Soviet Union was an evil empire!), and he had great gifts, one of which was knowing how to lead.

We have not had his like in the White House since.

I spent nearly eight hours standing in line in front of the Capitol building to merely pay my respects and walk by his flag-draped casket when he lay in state. Around 4 a.m., I got my turn, and nearly burst into tears. A great man was gone.

I am so glad I gave up a night's sleep to do that. I will never forget it. It was the least I could do for someone who set such a great example.

Reagan restored sense, nobility, and class to the office of the presidency. He believed in the moral superiority of the mission of the United States and he wasn't afraid to proclaim that. He never allowed the naysayers and the so-called experts to dictate what he did--he listened to them, but then he decided what to do based on what was best for his country, and what his moral compass told him was right.

I don't know if I can ever be as great a person as Ronald Reagan, but that's the kind of person I strive to be.

I can only pray that someone else of his high caliber will come forth to lead this country again.

The Nature of Courage

2010-10-03T20:52:00.001-07:00

Recently someone told me that I had a lot of courage. This surprised me; I have not ever considered myself a particularly courageous person. But as I pondered this compliment, I realized that I truly have been able to incorporate into my life something I value greatly: personal courage.

I have pondered this concept for years, intending to write about it, but I have never applied it to the things that I do, myself. I think personal courage is an exemplary virtue, and it is largely unsung. We honor military heroes, for instance, who throw themselves on a live grenade, sacrificing their own lives to save those of their comrades. This is an example of tremendous courage, but the truth is that very few of us will be called upon to make such a supreme sacrifice.

Personal courage, however, is smaller but more common, persistent acts that come to define a person's character. For example, the personal courage of the individual who daily struggles with a handicap and manages to rise above self-pity to live a productive life is very seldom remarked upon. The courage to do something unpleasant, such as bravely and honestly confront a co-worker with a problem, or apologize when one has been wrong, are examples seldom seen any more. This kind of courage is not a defiant, in-your-face arrogance, but instead the determination to calmly, sometimes quietly, seek and confront the truth about something or someone--even oneself--no matter how threatening or distasteful, and to conquer that problem. Personal courage takes great strength of character.

It takes courage to do what one knows is right, regardless of the disapproval of others. I went off to college barely knowing only a couple of souls on that huge campus. I joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints 35 years ago, even though I knew my father did not approve of my choice. To this day I am an active member, and my sister joined the Church as well. My husband became a convert to the Church after we met. Now my family all live in Utah, and my sister and I have raised five children, three of whom were married in Mormon temples. My son has served a mission. The entire course of my family's life has changed because of my willingness to make the courageous choice to live the gospel of Jesus Christ, including the ancestors of both my husband and me, whose temple work we have done.

My life is not easy all the time. I have heartaches, regrets, and fears with which I must live every day, as do we all. I have had many failures, and many embarrassments--more than most people, because I do have the courage to get out there and take my chances. I have tried to instill this virtue in my children, as well.

I don't know what made me this way; I think a lot of it was just a part of my personality from the start, but it's also something I developed without really thinking about it, simply by trying to do the right thing regardless of the consequences, every single day. I don't think it makes me better than other people, and I don't think I've been somehow singled out by God for some special blessing. But I know that I am courageous, and I am grateful to be that way, and I know the Lord will sustain me as I try to serve Him.

Miss Manners, we need you!

2010-08-22T07:47:00.000-07:00

I almost couldn't believe my ears when I heard the new tag line for Charmin toilet paper, "Enjoy the go!" Do they really mean to imply that Charmin users should enjoy the experience of defecation?

Backing up a bit, I have deliberately never bought Charmin toilet tissue. I thought the Mr. Whipple "Don't squeeze the Charmin!" ad campaign idiotic, and I was turned off by the cartoon bears doing their business in the woods with a roll of toilet paper stuck on a tree branch. Ha ha ha. "Does a bear [defecate] in the woods?" Major, major, turnoff.

Now they have combined the animated bears with the tag line. What are they thinking?

Well, I found out that they are putting a bunch of portable toilets in Times Square at Christmas and hiring five bloggers to talk to people who "really, really enjoy going to the bathroom." The chosen five will receive $10,000 each for their blogging/Twitter/YouTube stints. I can only hope that this project is felled by the kind of snowstorms we got last winter.

It seems to me the only people who will really get a kick out of such stuff are those who have scatalogical tendencies. Frankly, I, and most people I know, do not want to broadcast their personal business for all and sundry on social networks to see.

I recall a story about Jackie Kennedy running the tap while she used the bathroom in the Kennedy family home. Her in-laws made fun of her for this, but I don't blame Jackie a bit. It's embarrassing to have to use the facilities in close proximity to others.

Miss Manners put it best when she opined that anything that goes on in a restroom is private and should never be remarked upon. As for me, any activity behind a closed bathroom/restroom door, short of murder and mayhem, is none of my business and what I do in there is none of anyone else's.

My mother insisted on using only Charmin; I refused to buy it when she visited my house, so she bought her own. (Digressing now: when she complained that my basic-basic cable didn't have "enough channels" for her, I ordered full basic the next time she visited. See? I'm not unreasonable and I do look out for the comfort of my guests!) The Charmin inevitably clogged up the pipes. I know this is a common complaint about the brand.

Unfortunately, I think encouraging people to "enjoy the go!" is going to look quaint and downright modest compared to what's going to be included in ads five years from now. In the meantime, though, boycott the Charmin!

The Only Time is the Present

2010-08-05T09:40:00.000-07:00

I think about the future a lot. Well, I worry about it a lot, anyway. Where will I live? What will my children be doing? New one: Will I be healthy? Will we have enough money?

My mother was a great worrier. I guess she thought it helped; she certainly felt that it was necessary in order to show caring. It's taken me a long time to get rid of some of the worrying I do.

Worry is entirely counterproductive--it can become an obsessive, paralyzing preoccupation. In most cases, it's wasted on things we cannot change or fix. Concern is different. Concern means that there is some apprehension about the person or situation, but there is something about concern that indicates it's not dwelled upon, and that it is outside the jurisdiction of the person who is concerned. Concern is appropriate; worry often is not.

I realize that I have no true legitimate reason to be overly concerned about the future, so that immediately negates any productive reason to worry.

Wish it were that easy.

Ah, the Joys of eBay!

2010-07-05T12:24:00.000-07:00

I love eBay.

When I went to Laura Ingalls Wilder's home in Missouri, I was taken by a little depression glass butter dish in a case. She had several pieces in this particular style. Well, it can't be the only one ever manufactured, I reasoned.

In less than ten minutes on eBay, I identified it as the Jeannette Glass Company's Sierra/Pinwheel pattern in pink. They also made this style in green. Bada bing, in a few days I was the owner of a platter in this style.

My older daughter has some pink Depression glass, largely because it's her favorite color and I've bought it for her. It's fairly inexpensive, pretty, and goes with her stuff.

So I purchased four plates in the same pattern, and I will keep after the elusive butter dish. It's kind of fun owning something like Laura had.

As for breakables--ever since my youngest turned three and was less of a hazard, I have been collecting dishes and other stuff like that. eBay has helped a lot! I was able to get matching wine and water goblets to match my mom's (which she had given to me), and add to her diminished everyday china pattern. I've also bought stuff to match my own china, and added to my beehive collection. Finding a nice hefty brass trash can for my bathroom was futile until I looked on eBay. I snagged a great one for $20!

This is a great country.

Check This Off my Bucket List!

2010-06-18T20:24:00.000-07:00

We got back early Tuesday morning from our trip to Utah. We drove a car out for our daughter to use, and we flew back. We took four days to get there, and I got to go to one of my dream destinations: Laura Ingalls Wilder's home in Mansfield Missouri, the "Little House in the Ozarks."

I was a major Little House fan as a kid; that was before the television show, of which I was not a fan, because it varied so much from the books. When we drove to Minnesota in 1972 or '74, we stopped in DeSmet, South Dakota so I could see the Little Town on the Prairie. There was not much there. The caretaker of the home Laura and her family wintered over during their first year there was not too keen on leaving his dinner table to let me into the house, so I had to content myself with peering into the windows. The town was still little, though; probably much as it had been when Laura left.

The Mansfield home was where Laura lived as an adult and wrote her books. Almanzo, her husband, built the house, which is small and very modest by today's standards. Their daughter, Rose, built another state-of-the-art home on the property, and presented it to her parents for Christmas in 1928. They did not like living there and moved back into the original farmhouse in 1936.

It was interesting to see Laura's belongings. This woman never threw anything away, evidently. She even saved the handwritten invitation to her first party in DeSmet! Her clothes looked like they would fit me. Come to find out, she was only 4' 11" and Almanzo was my height: 5' 4".

This was a fascinating place and I am glad I went, but there was not as much to see as I had hoped. The little museum needs serious revamping of its exhibits. But Laura was an unassuming woman. I got the impression that she was thrifty, careful, and didn't want to boast her success in her home town.

We drove on through Denver and into Wyoming, reaching Salt Lake City on Tuesday, June 8th. It was fun to spend several days with family and friends, though I spent far more than I care to think about on cleaning supplies for my kids. I stripped floors in my son's house and replaced rotting sponges and burned-out bulbs in my daughter's apartment.

As far as my diet goes, I have not lost any weight during this entire month so far. I have fallen off the wagon again--but I must say that I have cut back a lot on fatty foods. I am still having trouble eating fewer carbs and sweets, but vacations do that to me. While I did better than usual this vacation, I still ate too many carbs and sweets. Back on the wagon again.

So, three pounds down and fifteen to go. I am going to put off my doctor's visit until after I see the oncologist in July. Let's see what I can do in one month more!

A New Era

2010-05-06T10:21:00.000-07:00

So, I finally go in for a physical. Fasting blood test to check my thyroid levels and cholesterol. I have gained some weight, but everything was fine, except...

My triglycerides went from 98 to 166. Oops.

Although there is rampant heart disease on both sides of my family, I figured that since I exercise a lot and have low blood pressure, I was okay with eating just about anything I wanted.

Nope.

I don't want to go on cholesterol-lowering drugs, so I am changing my eating habits and will go back and get checked in another couple of months. I'm not taking any more meds! I take enough, what with the vitamins and the thyroid stuff. I'm kind of granola-hippie-ish when it comes to taking care of my body. I don't like artificial stuff and I don't believe in taking hormones or, really, anything that is not absolutely necessary. And I don't think cholesterol meds are necessary for me, if I am eating properly.

However, ever since I had cancer four years ago, I have been eating to comfort myself. I didn't feel particularly comforted by anyone or anything else, frankly, and I honestly didn't think I could give up the food. I felt like it was the only thing enjoyable in my life. Hence, I gained 14 pounds on top of the 4-6 I already had to lose. Enough to make me hate my body and feel uncomfortable. I just didn't know how to stop, though. And I didn't necessarily want to. The carbs and chocolate I ate too much of just really did it for me.

Well, not anymore. The party is over.

I found a new book in the library, Shrink Yourself by Gould. It's fantastic--it's a treatise on why we emotional eaters derive so much from eating. He takes the reader through exercises that teach how to solve problems without eating to stop the feeling. This is good for many areas of your life, not just times that prompt you to run to the chocolate. I found its insights extremely helpful and wish I had known these things 20 years ago!

It came together with a triumvirate: the higher cholesterol, and a woman I saw on a PBS fundraiser who advocated eight eating habits that will make you healthier and slimmer.

Drum roll please: after two weeks, I am down five pounds.

I am cautiously optimistic that I will get there this time. I really wanted to conquer the food addiction; while I am not grossly obese or anything, I want to be back into my size fours and sixes. I already exercise 4-5 times per week, and at some future time I was going to really knuckle down on my eating. Well, the future is now.

The eight habits (acronym DIET FREE): 1. Drink lots of water. 2. Include breakfast, and quit eating 3 hours before bedtime (I quit at 7 p.m. unless there's a party). 3. Eat fruit or vegetables first before snacking on something else. 4. Tame your sweet tooth with fruit. 5. Check the fat in everything you eat. 6. Real food--steer clear of processed foods. 7. Eat only until you are satisfied--not stuffed. 8. Exercise, preferably every day.

Now, I knew all these things; the trouble was putting them into practice. And The Four-Day Win by Martha Beck helps with this. She also has a very insightful way to help readers change their habits by baby steps, using her four-day plan. This book has been extremely helpful for me, too. She has the reader imagine two parts of herself: a wild child that is all impulsive emotion, and a strict Nazi-like authoritarian who is constantly trying to tame the wild child. Naturally, this internal war goes back and forth, and she suggests you try to take your real self out of it and imagine these two as tiny different individuals, who the real you simply wishes well. The imagery works!

What I do is avoid carbs and junk, eat lots more fruit and vegetables, and have a little chocolate (about 100 calories' worth) every day. I eat only a little dessert at parties, and I drink a lot of water. I usually keep the diet sodas, if I drink them at all, to one a day. I also eat dried apricots as a sweet treat.

The other thing I do is weigh myself every five days, concentrating on losing only one pound at a time. I figure 1 pound every five days is feasible for me, and so far, so good.

I will have a recap at the end of June--we will see what my weight and cholesterol have done by then!

The Dustiest House in North America, Part II

2010-04-19T17:54:00.000-07:00

I have put a dark hardwood floor into the dustiest house in North America.

The Swiffer was covered with pollen on Saturday when I used it. Eeuuww. However, I am glad that I can clean it up instead of it settling in and bugging me forever.

Actually, it's easier and faster to swiff than vacuum. Of course, I still have to vacuum the rugs and the stairs, and the dust shows up on the floor more so I have to do it more frequently, but I don't mind because it gets done so quickly. I have a thing about clean floors: when I do them, I feel like the whole house is clean.

In other news, I am in the middle of making bedding for my daughter-in-law, for whom I would do anything. I can prove this: I spent three hours just making the cording for said bedding. It will look great, though, and she has never had real custom bedding before, made out of decorator fabric which she has chosen. I hope she likes it!

It Never Gets Easier

2010-03-05T05:35:00.000-08:00

Sigh.

My poor pristine little Volkswagen beetle just got bonked AGAIN. A guy with no insurance and no driver's license (his wallet had just been stolen, imagine!) backed into me in a parking lot. Fortunately, it's not bad. I can just imagine the look on the body shop guy's face when we bring it in AGAIN.

I ran into an old colleague from work at the grocery store and we spent about 45 minutes catching up. Her three older kids have all graduated from college--impressive!--and her youngest is at UVA. In the meantime, I am trying not to worry too much about mine, who are very close in age to hers. I love them so much, and I am so glad I have them, but I have learned that you never let go one hundred percent. Are they happy? Are they going to church? Do they have enough money?

Life certainly does not seem to get easier. The only answer is faith and prayer.

Newsflash: It's Winter

2010-02-11T08:23:00.001-08:00

Let's all sit down, take a deep breath, and get a grip.

It's February: we have had the winter solstice, and it's more than a month to the vernal equinox. That makes us officially in the winter season, when the temperature dips and the precipitation can freeze, creating what we all know as SNOW.

So why is everyone running around like chickens with their heads cut off, squealing about the snow?

Yes, I know that we have gotten the heaviest snowfall Washington DC has ever known. So what? We have hurricanes in the fall--that's a lot of rain. Notice the vegetation around here? Takes a lot of moisture to grow all that stuff. It's humid here--there's a lot of precipitation! And the winter temperatures make it into snow! And yes, sometimes there's more precipitation than others! So we get MORE SNOW.

Every network had people out in the snowfall yesterday--and reported on it all day long. Enough, already!

Miraculously, or maybe not, nobody has been killed! I have yet to hear of anyone's roof collapsing (private home, that is. Some commercial buildings have lost roofs).

So can we please just quit complaining and deal?

The Only Way Out is Through

2010-02-07T11:40:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, you just have to slog through things before they get better. I have done this, and it has!

We got a new TV. It is fantastic. It's an HD widescreen, and the picture is unbelievable.

I got my article done on time, and the editor loved it.

Our car was fixed, and the color matches perfectly.

The flooring project is going well-except that we have some wood rotting in the floor of the dining room, and will have to replace the french doors there as well. But I love my new floor!

My daughter seems to have had a wake-up call since she did so poorly in school last semester. Let's hope she does better this one.

I had my mammogram and appointment with the surgeon. I am fine. Hurray!

It is true that time heals many wounds, and solves many problems.

Sometimes, Even a Well-Lived Life Sucks

2010-01-13T07:39:00.000-08:00

My head is about to explode.

I have been inundated with an avalanche of niggling little problems so far this year that have added up to a lot of stress. I don't deal well with stress anyway; I get headaches and neck aches and want to cry all the time. So it goes.

We started a project back in September--hardwood flooring in our living room, hallway, office and dining room. We ordered the wood and were told that it would not get in until December. Surprise! It arrived in October. We planned on starting the project by ripping out the old flooring in the living room at the end of the month. That plan went awry when I had to go to Utah for a couple of weeks because my mom was dying. When I returned, we opened boxes--and guess what, the trims didn't match the flooring. Back we went to the store. We ordered new trims. They didn't match either. Then the salesman told us we could have the trims custom-matched! Why didn't he tell us that in the first place?

Those finally came in around the 4th of January. We ripped out the living room floor and began. Funny, though: the boards in the boxes of flooring were only about 1-3 feet long, with the majority about 2 feet. What's the deal? I asked at the store. The salesman looked it up, and oh, this is the norm for this flooring. I had originally been told that it was as long as 6 feet. So we are negotiating what to do with the store. Grr!

My house is a chaotic mess due to having ripped out the living-room floor. This makes me feel antsy.

Last week, my bedroom TV died. It started smelling as though it was burning up. I unplugged it, and, indeed, my husband pronounced the end of its life and threw it in the garbage. We've had it since my mother-in-law sold her house in 1989; it was made in 1982. I felt like we should have a funeral for it! I miss it. I want a new one.

I have an article due at the end of the month. I have not been having much success getting interviews with the people I need to talk to. Aaaargh!

One of my co-workers lost her job for not making sales goals--a wonderful woman with whom I have worked for nine years. She did nothing wrong! Things are totally stressful at work. I have had my schedule changed and I am working a lot more, just when I need some time off. Who's next?

My back has been hurting since early November.

I am worried about my kids. And I am going to have to pay the full out-of-state tuition for my daughter, who did not do well last semester and will not get her loan this one. She is trying to establish residency and this is not going well.

Someone hit our fairly new car in the church parking lot on Sunday. It's not badly damaged, but this will probably mean that the fender and bumper will not perfectly match the rest of the car. I hate that.

I had an upsetting phone call with my dad on Sunday night. Though it was not my fault and I did nothing wrong, I feel my dad is mad at me. I am still coming to grips with my mother's death.

I need to make doctors' appointments for a mammogram, my sinuses, a physical, and with my surgeon for a follow-up. I also need to find a new opthalmologist and see the dentist.

We got a new computer and being relatively tech-illiterate, I am having a hard time transitioning between the old one and the new one. (Yes, this stresses me out!)

Yesterday I took a cashmere sweater from the dry-cleaning wrapping and put it on, to discover a hole in the left arm.

But, as a wise friend says, nobody's sick or in jail. Guess I should be grateful, huh?

Gosh, this year has got to get better, right? Calgon, take me away!

Let it Snow!

2009-12-19T09:24:00.000-08:00

(Imagine the Peanuts "Snowfall" piano piece tinkling in the background as you read this blog. Sorry I'm too tech-ignorant to put it on here.)

Wow, as I write this, it is snowing like mad outside. Generally, we don't get a lot of snow here in the DC area, but I've got more than a foot on my deck table, and it's still coming down hard. The newscasters are calling this one of the three biggest snowfalls in the history of DC!

Tha last one was a week of storms early in January, 1996. The kids and my husband were off school and work for over a week. Yep, they shut down the government when there's more than a half-inch of the white stuff.

It gets much icier here than in Utah, and because of the humidity, it feels much colder too. I simply will not ski here in the mid-Atlantic because it is so uncomfortable. I vastly prefer the ideal conditions of Alta and Solitude!

The downside is that we had to postpone the arrival of our youngest daughter. We did not want her to be stranded in a strange place, alone, as she was last year. So she comes in on Monday morning.

Maybe we can make a snowman! I am not, however, looking forward to shoveling the driveway.

Take that, Global Warming enthusiasts!

The Christmas Run-Up

2009-12-16T20:14:00.000-08:00

I love Christmas. I really do. I try to plan ahead so things are not too stressful (this is not especially effective), and I enjoy looking for presents all year 'round. All my kids (three I birthed and two I got as in-laws) will be home, and I want to make it fun and joyous and cozy for them.

I am working my way through several recipes (some multiple times!) and sharing with my co-workers and my dad, and nibbling a few myself. Well, more than a few, but I'm trying to be more mindful of my eating. We have a Continental breakfast on Christmas; I make pizzelles and my mother's cinnamon twists.

We sleep in now that our children are adults--which is just fine by me. When I was a kid I got up at the crack of dawn and sneaked downstairs for a look at the haul. Then I got my sister and we looked together, then tried to go back to bed until a more civilized hour, but we couldn't sleep. Eventually my parents got up and my dad filmed us "waking up" and "discovering" our gifts under the tree. He always panned around the room to get the whole display.

The run-up to Christmas is more fun than the actual day for me. I don't particularly care about getting any gifts myself (which frustrates my husband, who loves having lots of presents under the tree). I like to prepare the meals and the pies and the cookies and candies, and watch Christmas movies. And every other year or so, we have a huge party, the highlight of which is a White Elephant gift exchange. I had planned to have one this year, but my mother's passing has taken a bit of the stuffing out of me, and I got very far behind because I was away for three weeks. And my kids lament that they cannot be here for the party--they loved it when we had them when they were young. Next year, I hope!

I am grateful for my Savior and the miracle that was His birth. I am so glad that our Heavenly Father provided for a way we can repent of our sins, and the example of His Son, who came into this world in the humblest of circumstances. When I compare the ease and comfort and conveniences of my life compared to his, I feel very blessed. I am grateful that I could live in this day and age, despite the wars and problems. I try to let the peace begin with me, and as I get older and learn more, I am becoming more successful.

Merry Christmas, every one!

A Well-Lived Life Ends

2009-11-11T16:54:00.000-08:00

Goodbye, Mom.

I have been in Utah for two weeks because my mother was dying, and she passed away one week after I got here, on November 6, 2009 at the age of 84 years and 8 months.

My mother was both brilliant and naive, loving and domineering, enthusiastic about her own interests, pessimistic and negative about those of which she didn't approve or share. Often, she didn't approve of me. I learned to deal with it, though often her anger and disapproval hurt or enraged me. But, as my husband observed once, people are a mixed bag. Mom certainly was.

At the end of the day, though, I always knew my mother loved me. She had serious anxiety issues and never really learned to adequately control her emotions. However, the strength she taught me gave me the ability to stand up to her disapproval and do what I knew to be right.

Each day since her death has been a little easier. Having watched her decline for nearly 3 years made it easier to say the long goodbye. I am glad she is in a better place, no longer prisoner in that pain-riddled, deteriorating body.

No Kindle Inflames my Passion!

2009-09-20T20:19:00.000-07:00

"I could not live without books."

"So many books, so little time."

"...books are keys to wisdom's treasure. Books are paths that upward lead. Books are friends. Come, let us read."

I have loved books and reading since I was a very little girl. Walking into the library never fails to give me a little frisson of excitement. I cracked the code quickly and became impatient with the repetitiveness of Dick and Jane; I wanted to move on! I never liked Dr. Seuss because of the repetition when I was a child, though I like the cadence of the prose as an adult. Reading is the activity that I enjoy above all. I could read and do virtually nothing else.

For some reason, even with two voracious readers as parents and frequent trips to the library, none of our children are the readers we are. I stood before our crammed shelves one day with a daughter, pointing out to her the merits of various books when it dawned on me: those stories are not a part of her the way they are of me. And they likely never will be. This realization broke my heart.

The various experiences and the infinite wisdom I've gleaned through books are invaluable to me. My child, whom I love so much, is bereft without even knowing it, and this breaks my heart. How much will this diminish her life? She may never know or care, but I do know that my own life would be greatly diminished without the vast storehouse of information I've read and pondered and stored up for many, many years.

Lately I have been reading for escape. I just finished Cold Comfort Farm, a brilliant and hilarious book that sends up the overwrought English countryside novel popular between the wars (much as the Jeeves and Wooster books do). Lately my life has seemed difficult and bleak, and to get myself out of this mood, I have been reading. Real printed paper-between-covers books.

I cannot imagine using yet another electronic device to read when it is so easy and inexpensive to read a book. You don't have to plug it in or recharge it; it doesn't cost hundreds of dollars plus a fee to read, only a short trip to the library. I have been told that a Kindle stores 1500 books (but since length varies so much, who can tell?) but that's a load of money too, since it costs about $16 to download a book. Who needs this gadget? Not I.

In ninth grade, I took a Power Reading course. It was a proud moment when my teacher stood before the class and said that I had completed the highest available materials in the course by semester's end. (One other boy, my crush for a couple of years, had overcome the material at the beginning of the class, but he decided to finish it anyway.) I'm zipping through novels and biographies at the rate of several a week, just to keep ahead of what Winston Churchill called "the black dog."

At least it's working, even if I don't get much else done.

Just give me the words printed and bound. I am happy with these treasures.

Road Trip

2009-08-07T05:47:00.000-07:00

I went on a road trip with my friend Kacie last weekend. She had to drive to meet her family at the National Order of the Arrow (Boy Scouts) conference at Indiana University in Bloomington. Her son was receiving a prestigious award. She didn't want to make the trip alone, so I agreed to go with her.

We were near the Flight 93 site in Shankstown, Pennsylvania, so we went over there. Now I have been to all three memorials from 9/11. It is still very makeshift, but very touching for that. Hundreds of mementoes are there, left by those who have visited. There are park benches with the names of the victims engraved on each, and granite headstones with messages too, presumably from families. The actual site of the crash is across a field and is fenced off. It is very rural. Living near Washington, D.C., I can only imagine what plot those brave passengers foiled. How many lives did they save? Amazing.

We went on to the Workshops of Gerald Henn headquarters, where there is a small gift shop. The company is going out of business and I wanted to add to my daughters' pottery collections before the stuff was completely unavailable. Lo and behold, their warehouse was open, and I was able to garner a whole bunch of stuff far below the retail price! I was very satisfied with my purchases. I love this pottery because it is of such high quality. Now my girls will have some kitchenware that will be passed down to their kids, as well as serve them well throughout their lives.

We went on to Fort Wayne, Indiana where I had the best chocolate I've ever eaten in my life (DeBrand, check out their website at debrand.com) and made the acquaintance of my friend's niece, a very precocious ten-year-old who reminded me a lot of myself at that age. On Sunday, we drove to Bloomington, and made the mistake of stopping at a White Castle burger place for lunch. The worst food I have ever eaten, bar none. The thinnest piece of meat possible, gray, on an over-steamed bun. No flavor. I took three bites, as did my friend, and we gave up and ate the fries only. We should have asked for our money back. Eeeuuww.

Kacie went to the festivities at IU Sunday night while I stayed in our motel talking to family. I love cell phones! On Monday we drove home over I-70, a route I had not taken since 1984 when we moved to Maryland. (Well, technically, I did take it in 2008 when we drove to Utah, but it was in the other direction.)

All in all, we had a great time. I'm glad I did something different for a few days, and I'm glad I could help my friend. I would not have wanted to make that drive alone. And I'm really excited to have gotten my hands on more pottery!

A Day Late and a Dollar (or More) Short

2009-07-16T10:45:00.000-07:00

Guess what. I've been scooped again.

Annette Lyon, a Utah writer, just published a book: Their, There, They're, a grammar guide.

I went on Amazon and looked at her chapters. It's definitely got a Utah slant (she has one section on Supposedly/Supposably, and it's only in Utah that I have ever heard this error. That is also the only place I've heard the remark, "He was bein' really ignernt to me." People use the term "ignorant" to mean "rude."). She has a lot of the same things I have on Mrs. Clark's Grammar Rant, which has yet to see the Internet light of day, mostly because I do not know how to set up a website.

Oh, well.

I know I could not hold a candle to Eats Shoots and Leaves, the wonderful grammar book written by Lynne Truss, an Englishwoman and therefore a higher authority than I, but I was trying to make my little light shine.

Move on, dear. Move on.

No County for Old Women

2009-07-12T15:20:00.000-07:00

So, a friend of mine wants me to attend the Relief Society Book Group. The book this month is Emma, by Jane Austen. A classic, right? You'd think the regional (meaning bigger than most of the others) library in my town would have several copies, right?

You'd be wrong.

Not finding the book in the stacks, I went to the online card catalog. I typed in the word "Emma" as the book title. Simple, huh?

Ninety-eight different titles came up. Beginning with "The Wonderful Adventures of Emma," or something like that.

WHAT THE?

I scrolled through five pages of book titles, none of which was simply Emma, to the last page. Then came the videos. FINALLY, there it was: my library was in possession of ONE large-print copy. No others. And it was checked out.

This library does, however, have available copies of Hello!, People, and InStyle.

I had to order the book to be sent from another library.

Now, keep in mind that in the county where I live, the median household income is $105,000 per year, the highest in the nation. And we pay the taxes to show for it.

Yes, this is a cranky post, and I really do try not to be cranky for various reasons, not the least of which is that I believe in purging one's life of crankiness, but this really dumbfounded me. It shows I'm getting old. I should've gone to Borders and shelled out the $15 for the book. It would have been easier on my blood pressure.

Wearing a Crown

2009-06-29T18:29:00.001-07:00

My dear husband was thinking of me this past Saturday as he pursued yard sales. This is quite a hobby for him, and I have to say that quite a few articles in our home, including one of my favorite sweaters and his easy chair, have come from yard sales. Not to mention a lot of books.

I had received an email suggesting that I had done a poor job on an article I wrote, and I was pretty upset. I went off to exercise class and Wes went off to yard sales. (Side note: I have found that I do not like to attend yard sales with him. He follows the same route every Saturday, and I would like to try different neighborhoods. And he tends to whip the car around, in what feels to me a very dangerous way, when he sees a Yard Sale sign. And I get bored with them much earlier than he does.)

When I got home, there was a new book waiting for me on the kitchen table: Crowns, which is a photo-essay on African-American women in their Sunday hats. I was so touched. I needed that little gift (which cost a whole dollar). It made me feel loved.

Back when we first moved to the Washington, DC area, we drove down Georgia Avenue on a Sunday. I was fascinated and amazed by the African-American women in their hats and perfectly-coordinated outfits. I had heard of the book, and I had always wanted to read it. I love hats. I have a few, but I hesitate to wear them because I feel I'm calling too much attention to myself.

Anyway, I eagerly sat down and began reading the fascinating stories of these beautiful women and their gorgeous hats. Some of them were hilarious. I was impressed with the dignity and pride of many of them. What a great legacy and tradition.

So I went up to my room and took down my big lavender Nordstrom hat box. I dusted off the top and lifted the lid. I took out a cute black and natural straw and put it jauntily on my head. I wore it with a black T-shirt and khaki shorts. And I felt great.

I love hats. I think I will overcome my shyness and wear them more. The Crowned ladies have inspired me.

A Comfortable Home

2009-06-18T12:09:00.000-07:00

I once wrote an article about what makes a house a home. I think that a chiming clock (the kind you wind up, not electronic chimes), the occasional smell of fresh bread baking, and a piece of Belleek china (or some other little thing that is the best quality of its kind) are necessary in every home.

My home means a lot to me. I am home alone for the second day in a row, nursing a head cold and trying not to get a sinus infection. I love being here all by myself. The light came through the skylights in my living room this morning, bathing it in a golden glow. Then came some thundershowers. It was nice to sit here with chocolate and a book, cozy on my comfy couch, with not a lot to do, listening to the clocks mark the hours with their gentle ticking.

A home is a refuge from not just the elements, but the cares of the world. Making it a pleasant and inviting place is not a priority for many people any more, but it still is for me. I know my children like coming back here.

So we continue to do things to make it more enjoyable, attractive, and safe. We have a few landscaping projects to do, and need a new driveway, and we need to get some furniture reupholstered. It will probably never be done, but that's okay. It's home.

Time Marches On

2009-06-16T10:03:00.000-07:00

I talked to my dear friend Lisa yesterday for almost two hours. She just turned 50. We have known each other since our husbands were undergraduates and she was a law school student in the early eighties. We each had boys a couple of months apart in 1983, then went on to have girls (she had four, I had two). When we moved east in 1984, Lisa and her family moved to New England. Last year, however, she moved back to Los Angeles. (She and her husband, and Wes and I, are all from Southern California.) We have kept in touch for 25 years. It's been very interesting.

When we were young, I'd say things like, "In 20 years, we..." and now it's coming true. We shared stories about frustrating in-laws, kids doing stuff of which we don't approve, turning 50, siblings, aging bodies, books we've read, etcetera. Funny, how inside your head you stay about 25, but the years march on and your body ages. Lisa gets the unvarnished me, and she still likes me. I'm grateful for that!

Endings and Beginnings

2009-05-24T19:45:00.000-07:00

For some reason, today my emotions have been very close to the surface. I'm not exactly sure why, except that hormones do another wild dance as women approach menopause, and that may be the cause. It could also be because I am reading a book which brings up a lot of emotions, and I am also writing about raising my children, which is another emotional experience.

We attended the temple with Ethan Tuesday night, and I was once again struck by the profound joy of knowing that no matter what, my children are sealed to me. I am so grateful for that privilege. I love my children even more now than when they were born.

My friend Beverly died last week and her funeral was on Friday. That was not too sad, as Bev suffered for a long time with brain cancer, and her only daughter was grown with three beautiful daughters herself. But the past year has brought a lot of rather stressful experiences for me, which now seem to be coming home to roost.

My youngest child graduated from high school and began college 2500 miles away. Five friends of mine have died, four from cancer. My older daughter got married. My mother's health has deteriorated badly. Add to this crises with our economy and job uncertainty, and I guess it's inevitable that I get emotional.

A particular elder serving in our ward is going home this week, and for some reason this has upset me deeply! Though there have been many elders and sisters move through our ward over the past 22 years, and some I have known better and loved a great deal, but this particular young man has touched my heart in a profound way. I truly feel the Spirit when I talk to him. As I left church this afternoon, I wished him well, and thanked him for his service--and I choked up. Embarrassed, I rushed past him, then turned and said, "Go home, and be a good man." In front of a lot of people, too!

I hope--and in my heart I know--that out there in Utah there must have been someone who felt like that about my son. The young men and women who make such a great sacrifice of time and personal indulgence to serve missions are a tremendous blessing to those whose lives they touch. We need them. The world needs them. Thank you, Elder M. We will miss you.

The Peter Principle

2009-05-02T11:47:00.000-07:00

I'm not stupid, but I'm no intellectual heavyweight, either. At least compared to some of my friends and acquaintances. I am fortunate to have had a good education, good parents who encouraged intellectual development above and beyond what they themselves attained, and a wonderful husband whose intelligence and intellectual curiosity have helped me to learn a great deal I might not have, if it weren't for him. (See Brigham's Blog, right.)

I am also the Martha type who fusses and putters around the house, cleaning and cooking. Of course, somebody has to do those things, and because of tradition, inclination, skill, and time, it falls to me rather than my husband. (And yes, I appreciate going to the bank and withdrawing money that his effort, and not mine, put in there.) It's long been my argument that men have been able to be the more prominent thinkers and doers in this world because they have women at home taking care of the necessities of life. I don't much admire Thoreau because while he was at Walden, he lived only 1 1/2 miles from home, his mother did his laundry, and she kept him supplied with food. It was hardly the lonely hardscrabble self-sufficient life Thoreau painted it. I don't think he was trying to mislead his readers; I think he really thought he had it rough and considered the support his family gave him as his due.

But now we come to something I have written about before: my woeful lack of meaningful work experience. I am trying to get to the point where I can earn enough money writing that I can quit my part-time store job. I have been rejected by a couple of places, and the last item I wrote and submitted was returned as all wrong. I panicked: is it the Peter principle finally at work in my life? (The Peter principle is that everyone rises to the level of his incompetence. In other words, at some point you're going to be in over your head.) I asked for some direction from the editor, and he gave it to me. I rewrote the piece, and re-submitted it, but I fear that it is too intellectually lightweight for his website.

So, I am very sad, but what can I do? Rather than bone up on all things political, work my way from the newsroom to the anchor desk, and network at trade association meetings, for the last twenty-five years I've made a home for four other people.

Some women seem to be able to handle all the other stuff as well, but whether by temperament or sheer inability, I was not up to that. I feel like neither fish nor fowl. I am not completely content working a little and making a home, but neither am I able to swim with the bigger fish. Either the Peter principle has kicked in, or I've got a lot of catching up to do. I guess we'll see!

My Career

2009-04-14T15:47:00.000-07:00

I have been a stay-at-home mom for 25 years. Oh, I have always done something, such as babysitting, teaching adult education, writing and editing, and working part-time in a store, while raising my kids. I need to be productive in some way, and I have a lot of curiosity about the world that I could never satisfy by simply being at home. I never had to leave my children with a sitter, though. Having gone through that experience myself, I had no desire to inflict it upon my kids. So I took them with me, worked when Daddy was home with them, or worked while they were at school.

So, here I am, over 50, with no career path and no retirement of my own. Don't get me wrong--I know with absolute certainty that I did the right thing. But it's hard to endure the lack of response to my job enquiries. I'm sure a lot of it is because nobody can believe that a woman who graduated from college 30 years ago has anything to offer. Even if there are no gaps, essentially, in her resume.

Let's see: making Halloween costumes and high-school play costumes, while memorable for my kids, isn't doing anything for me. Ditto making all those cinnamon rolls, breads, pies, cookies and other goodies for my family. Not to mention having dinner on the table every night. With vegetables.

Writing and editing nice little essays about home life? Nope, doesn't hold any water, evidently. I'm a good writer and editor, but my work, though published, has mostly been on some pretty lightweight subjects. At a friend's house one evening, I told her husband, a lobbyist, that I was available for freelance work. Oh, he didn't need me. He has a guy on retainer who used to be a chief editor for Advertising Age. I felt like the world's biggest loser when he told me that.

My book on how to dress and conduct oneself? Huh. The one agent I did speak with wanted to know if I had a TV show. The fact that I taught adult education and have over 25 years' experience helping others to get a more professional image means little to literary agents. They want a name people recognize. Sigh.

And all that volunteer work I've done? On committees for our homeowner's association, president of the Drama Boosters at the high school for two years? Fat lot of good that does me. I don't even bother mentioning it.

Granted, I live in the Washington, DC area where power is everything and everyone is truly top-notch. I'm a little guppy swimming with piranha.

Still, in my heart I am deeply content. My older daughter told me recently she and her siblings-in-law were discussing their childhoods. There was nobody, she said, who'd had a happy childhood. But that wasn't true for her. "Couldn't have been better," she said. My son has said the same thing.

Maybe I can't retire on that, but it's worth more than a million to me.

College or Not?

2009-03-21T11:55:00.000-07:00

I watched a wonderful 15-minute address by Steve Jobs (one of the founders of Apple) at the 2005 commencement ceremony at Stanford University. See it at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UF8uR6Z6KLc

Jobs did not finish college, and he talks about that. But mostly he talks about following one's passion and loving what you're doing.

There is a tremendous amount of merit in what he says. Yet, I still feel that a bachelor's degree is one of the most important things a person can achieve.

This is why. In college, you can spend time on a breadth and depth of learning and exploring ideas with other students that is impossible during any other period in your life. (After attending for one semester, Jobs spent a year and a half just auditing various classes at Reed College; I got the impression that he was not going for credit.) A college degree also gives you an edge over other candidates for a particular job. It means you will very likely never have to work in a fast-food joint. Knowledge is something that no one can ever take away from you. Interest in a lot of things enriches your life and leads you to lifetime learning. The people you will associate with will challenge your thinking and teach you broadmindedness. And you will earn, on average, 60% more over your lifetime than if you have only a high school diploma.

My daughter seems to think that she is going to college only to please me. Believe me, it's an expensive pastime of mine, if that is the case! She does not understand that I am trying to prepare her for independence and self-sufficiency, while doing meaningful work. She does not know that she will look back regretfully if she does not finish school, but will have no regrets at all if she does.

I love what Jobs had to say to the Stanford graduates. He displays the admirable quality of having learned lessons from his life. Fortunately, not having finished school has not hindered him. However, this is no longer the world Jobs lived in during the 70s. A degree is even more important now that it was 35 years ago.

My college years were probably some of the worst of my life. The work was hard. I was lonely (though I still keep in touch with some of my college friends!) I was making the break from my parents, which can be agonizing, as I re-examined my values and chose a lifestyle different from theirs. I struggled with my weight. I struggled with the schoolwork. I began confronting my personality flaws. I had some issues with depression. But basically, I learned that I could stand on my own two feet, emotionally, financially, intellectually and spiritually. It was very, very hard. And it was worth it.

BAAA!

2009-02-18T15:41:00.000-08:00

Woo hoo! TAMN, also known as Tiffany/Amber/Megan/Nicole, of Seriously, So Blessed has posted a blog entry I wrote for her! If you aren't familiar with this blog, and you're a Mormon woman, you need to read it! It's a hilarious sendup of Mormon-mommy blogs--and from some of the real ones I've read, I can assure you she's not far off the mark. The accent, the highlights, the pedicures, eating at Cheesecake Factory--all feature in the twentysomething life in Salt Lake City.

As TAMN would say, BAAA!

Over the Hill?

2009-02-15T14:17:00.000-08:00

Today I went to a church meeting for a committee I'm on. We plan quarterly activities for the women's auxiliary. There were 6 women present, and I was the eldest. One other woman has a daughter in college and two middle-school age children, but of the other four's combined 11 kids, the eldest are 7. Needless to say, I could not contribute much to the planning of the activities for the year--I've been there and done that, for the most part.

This is just one other instance that reminds me I'm getting a bit long in the tooth. While I am a member of the largest age cohort in the United States, I still feel a bit past it, as the British say.

My home is starting to look a bit dated, for example. The rich golds, burgundies, and navy blues I favor are no longer in vogue. My Karastan rugs have been manufactured in the same color scheme since the 1920s, so they are modern classics, and my furniture is all basically reproductions of federal styles, but the latest iteration of Mid-Century Modern that the thirtysomethings favor makes my stuff look, well, stuffy by contrast. Now, I know the mid-century modern aesthetic is going to look passe in a few years too, but there you are.

Then there's my clothing style. I try to stay up on things and not let my look get too dated, but I still favor a lot of eye shadow and some volume in my hair--reminiscent of the 1980s when I was in my twenties and thirties. (Fortunately, I have a fabulous stylist who changes my hair on a regular basis.) I am loath to get rid of my beautiful silk blouses and wool suits, though they are not currently in style. A lot of the time I feel like a frump.

Women my age cannot wear clothes from Forever 21 without looking idiotic, but I am finding the happy medium of staying au courant without looking teenagey much more difficult than I thought I would. I keep reminding myself that just because something is not worn out doesn't mean it should still be worn!

My political position seems to be out of it, too. I have noticed a very liberal trend among younger people. Ultimately, this means that even Republicans will be more liberal in the future than they are now.

What did John Mellencamp say? "Life goes on...long after the thrill of living is gone." Gosh, I don't want to believe that.

Body of Evidence

2009-01-27T16:45:00.000-08:00

Sometimes in a church meeting there is an electrifying lesson or sermon. Sunday delivered one of these.

A woman in our stake Relief Society presidency (the women's auxiliary of the Mormon church) gave the lesson. She talked about creating a body of evidence regarding our belief in God.

Now, while I would not say my childhood experiences were stellar, I had stable, loving parents and a secure environment. This woman, however, had an alcoholic father and a mom who worked and was away from the home most of the time.

She had been sent to visit her grandmother every summer, and that was who taught her to believe in God. When she was nine, she decided to pray to God to help her father stop drinking. She went alone to a playground in order to get to a high place--the huge slide that was there--to deliver her prayer.

"When I walked home, I got the feeling that everything would be okay. When I got home, of course, everything was the same--but I was different. I had received comfort from that prayer." We went on to discuss what she had learned from this initial experience in faith: that there was comfort in prayer, and this encouraged her to do it again. She had taken a baby step--but after all, she was only nine years old. She went on to say that it takes a lifetime to build this body of evidence, and something that I have often thought: we learn every day, line upon line and precept on precept, here a little and there a little.

So I began thinking about my relationship with God and what constituted the body of evidence for my faith.

I really can't remember when I didn't believe in God. Thankfully, my parents had taught me to pray and began sending me to Sunday school when I was three or four, though they did not attend church themselves. My father taught me the Lord's Prayer, and I had a Little Golden Book of prayers. I felt the spirit when I was young and I prayed, although I couldn't identify it as such. I just knew that I felt that a Presence heard me.

As I have grown older I have come to learn that the Lord is there, and He loves me, and He loves everyone else, too. He has granted my prayers, and He has given me a miracle or two. I have come to believe in His Son and His atoning sacrifice.

It seems odd that at age 51 there is still so much to learn, but I hope that I can continue to learn, and make the most of whatever time I have left. This, I feel, is at the heart of a life well-lived.

A Woman's Work is Never Done

2009-01-16T11:16:00.000-08:00

I swear I have the dustiest house in North America.

Not that I am one to dust on a regular basis, but when I do get to it, I manage to enfilthiate (my word) dust cloths at three times the rate my mother ever did. And it seems that the minute I finish, the dust reappears.

Mom made us dust when we were kids. She had unfilled travertine tops on a lot of the furniture, which means dust-holding holes. We had to dust every week, and we were admonished to DUST THE BASEBOARDS as well. I never remember those dust cloths picking up much at all. It seemed like a wasted effort to me. I never saw a dust bunny during my childhood.

Not so in my own house. I live in a colonial style house that has colonial moldings, which are much dustier than the Los Angeles mid-century modern simple, rounded baseboards I grew up with. I also have six-panel doors, dust hoarders all, as opposed to the blond wood smooth doors in my home of origin. Mom also hated knicknacks--"Just more to clean"--so we had few of those to REMOVE AND DUST (of course, being kids, we kind of flicked the dust cloth over and around them). I, however, have "tablescapes" on every flat surface, with lots more tchotchkes than Mom ever had. (Back then, though, we had ashtrays everywhere. It was the sixties, after all.)

My mom was a champion cleaner, at least until she started working full-time. She'd nearly rip the clothes off your body when you came through the door ("Give me that blouse! I'm doing light wash-and-wear!"). Nobody had whites like hers. She and the occasional maid, Homako, would go through the house like a dose of salts. They'd wash the windows every month, wash the woodwork, vacuum everything. It was amazing.

Mom still makes me clean the bathtub and shower every single time I use it at her house. Even though she can't climb the stairs and inspect the bathroom, I am still very careful about it. Her regimen includes using a squeegee and then rags to dry the remaining water from the glass doors and tile walls.

Once my sister and I were nine or ten, though, and Mom worked, the story changed. Although she never let us touch the washing machine, we had to fold the dried laundry. And iron the pillowcases. Vacuum the house. And, of course do the aforementioned dusting.

As you might expect, we lied a lot about whether we had done our chores. We couldn't see the point in doing all that work every single week. When we did do it, it was done halfheartedly.

For the last thirty years, though, I've had to do my own housework, and boy, has my attitude changed. I had to educate my husband on the virtues of "deep vacuuming" (which means moving all the furniture and using the edge tool to get the corners, and rooting out the dust bunnies from their gambling dens and whorehouses, or so he says). I never forced my kids to do much, either, because I became so particular about how things were done (big mistake). Yet, my daughter Julie, as a college freshman, called me one day and said, "Mom, you've done it. You should be proud. I am dying to clean the dormitory bathroom." Obviously, she didn't go to BYU, which had the best janitorial staff I've ever seen in any institution.

So here I am, spending nearly all day today dusting and vacuuming and cleaning bathrooms. And I'll do it again, and again. But I do have to admit, when I glance around that clean, dust-free living room with its gleaming mahogany tables and porcelain vases, I do get a sense of accomplishment. Sick, huh?

Ring in the New

2009-01-03T18:20:00.000-08:00

I seldom make new year's resolutions. They usually go by the wayside, and I feel guilty for not sticking with them. On the other hand, if I don't make resolutions or set goals, I feel guilty for being a lazy slug.

There are several things I'd like to do: lose fifteen pounds, always do my visiting teaching and let the supervisor know on time, quit swearing, stop participating in gossip. In other words, to be perfect.

Nancy Drew was perfect. She always knew what the right thing was to do, and she did it. She may not have been attending college or pursuing a career, but she could ice skate, dance, ride a horse, shoot a gun, and apply makeup like a pro. She was nice to old ladies. She always had just the right emergency supplies in her car's trunk. She never overspent, lied, or gained weight. And she never got mad (at least, as long as no one was trying to kill her). She was humble, too. She never lorded it over anyone else. I'll bet she could sew a dress, mow the lawn, and install crown molding as well! All by age 18.

Do I believe perfection is possible? Theoretically, yes, intellectually, no. I understand that I am imperfect and that's what Christ's sacrifice in Gethsemane was about. However, in my heart of hearts, I believe it is possible, and I will never, ever, measure up.

Do I hold others to my standards? Not at all, though I tried to inculcate high personal standards in my children--with limited success.

The balancing act comes in working toward perfection while still loving the imperfect self. This is difficult and it takes a lot of faith.

So perhaps my resolution should be to simply act with more faith in myself, God and others, this year.

God Bless Us, Every One

2008-12-22T10:47:00.001-08:00

Merry Christmas, dear readers. May you be able to weather what life throws at you this next year, too.

I always try very hard at Christmas to make things nice. To me, making (and eating) special recipes and seeing friends are the highlights of the season. And being with family. I don't like to travel during Christmas, but I sorely miss my kids. I have had a good time when my parents have come, and I am trying to extract promises from my married kids that they will be here next year!

However, for my husband, the presents are the thing. He always supplies me with a list. I try to buy everything I can, within reason. It is important to him to have a lot of stuff under the tree. This has been the source of yuletide conflict for 28 years now. When his mom was alive, it wasn't so bad because she'd go overboard and buy all kinds of stuff for the kids, and him. What I want is usually too expensive and complicated for my husband to buy. Also--when he buys me an expensive gift, I end up with the bill.

It would be quite simple for me to lay aside the cash, tell him what I want, and then use the cash to pay the bill. This does not, however, satisfy his longing for me to open a lot of gifts. What usually ends up happening is that I buy my own presents and then he wraps them.

So Christmas is often fraught with tension.

The other thing that happens is that my dear eternal companion wants to get involved with the gift purchases. Unfortunately, he usually expresses his interest about a week before Christmas--when everything has been selected, wrapped, and shipped by yours truly.

So, in 2009 I am going to pry my own perfectionistic, controlling fingers off Christmas and let him do it all.

I understand why we need God's blessings on us at this time more than any other!

The End of a Tumultuous Year

2008-12-09T19:05:00.000-08:00

This year has been quite a doozy. I have had several friends pass away, which has been sad; all of them have died far too young. (I love and remember you, Rachel, Barbara, Dawn and Lynn.) I have traveled more this year than any other in my life: I have been to Utah twice, once driving; I have been to London, Las Vegas, and Nashville.

We also spent a great deal of money this year. Julie's wedding was wonderful, and by today's standards, not expensive, but it still cost a lot of cash. My dear daughter Meredith is a college freshman at an out-of-state institution, and we had to buy a new air conditioning system for our home, unexpectedly. Certainly the years we've bought houses and cars have essentially cost us more, but these were all cash layouts! At least you can finance a home or a car.

Finally, we have an empty nest after 25 years of parenthood. That's both good and bad. I dearly miss my children, but we have lots of fond memories, our little "family lexicon," thick scrapbooks, and funny videos to share and reminisce over. This year has definitely had some major turning points.

Now, after over eight years at a local home decorating store I am losing my job. The store's lease is up, and the strip mall owners want to raise the rent considerably. The bottom line is that in our recessionary economy, the store would no longer be profitable. So eight people are out of jobs.

Some of us can go to other local company stores. I might consider that--I really enjoyed my job and got very good at it. Then again, I might consider other possibilities.

I feel very fortunate that my income is not necessary for our family to stay afloat. I have options: try expanding my freelance writing business; work for a temp agency, find a different job. Maybe I should find a government job, work five years and save all my money, then splurge on the facelift I will surely need by then!

Election Day

2008-11-04T07:09:00.000-08:00

Today is election day--what many are calling the Most Important Election Ever. Well, maybe. A woman is running for the Republican vice-presidential spot, and a man of mixed race is running for president as a Democrat.

Frankly, I don't care what sex or race any of these people are. What I do care about is their philosophical position about the role of government. A lot of mud has been slung, and a lot of pandering to the masses has taken place. Because there has been a financial crisis (which people are blaming on the current Republican president, but it has been brewing for 15 or more years), I think that the Democrat is going to win. Americans are fickle that way. They think the opposite party will bring Change. What change, exactly, nobody can quite explain, but they postulate that change is good.

My fear, however, is that the Change that everyone is championing is larger, more intrusive, tax-and-spend government. Many are calling for more government regulation of the free market--which is what got us into problems with the mortgage industry in the first place. I fear government health care--which will be an unmitigated disaster in a country as large as ours. Except for the very wealthy, who will be able to afford private doctors, the quality of care will diminish because of the increased burden of everyone flocking to the doctor--after all, it's "free." I'd like to point out that Kaiser Permanente, which used to offer all services to their patients for "free" (except for their fixed monthly premiums) now charges a copay for each visit--a way of covering costs, true, but also to keep people from making frivolous visits.

So, Mr. or Mrs. Candidate, what do you think of the free market? What do you think the Founders were rebelling against when they wrote the Declaration of Independence? Hmm? Do you know enough history not to repeat it?

Cancer Awareness

2008-10-24T05:51:00.000-07:00

October is my favorite month, especially here in Virginia. The trees are fantastic with all the colored leaves, the sky is a clear, sharp blue, and the air is crisp. It's time to switch to the fluffy down comforter, have fires in the fireplace, and wear my sweaters. Halloween is my favorite holiday, too.

Then the breast cancer people co-opted October. Now I'm bombarded with pink ribbons on everything and urged to donate to "breast cancer research." "Portions of proceeds" are donated, supposedly, when women buy stuff from crackers to socks to designer handbags.

Well, every day is Breast Cancer Awareness Day for me. I have three scars and five tattoos to show for it, not to mention a numb armpit and the side effects from radiation.

Don't get me wrong--I am absolutely not complaining. I was very fortunate to have a wonderful group of doctors taking care of me and excellent health insurance. I had a small cancer that was at a very early stage, and I never even had to spend a night in the hospital. Really, I did not let it interfere much with my life at all, and very few people know I even had it. I am very glad I was not subjected to a radical mastectomy, which was done in every case even as recently as 35 years ago--but, let's face it, the research which gave rise to less invasive procedures was conducted on women who already had breast cancer. That's not prevention research, or causal research, it's clinical trial research.

I just have to wonder--with all the walks, runs, outright donations and merchandise, exactly how much is this industry taking in for "research?" How much is actually being spent on time in the lab? And with this waterfall of funds, why hasn't more been discovered?

Frankly, if I never see a pink ribbon again, it will be too soon. (You can even have a Breast Cancer license plate in Virginia.) I feel I have donated enough to breast cancer, thank you very much.

Success, in a small thing

2008-09-08T16:54:00.001-07:00

My daughter got married, and I hosted a group of virtual strangers in my home for a week. It was a lot of fun!

There were two babies, a five-year-old and a twelve-year-old. Various adults came and went. It was a pleasure to get to know them! I only hope they were comfortable here. Of course, my son and daughter-in-law were here for ten days. My daughter-in-law is a terrific person. I could not have done it without her help. She is a brilliant manager and knows just how to deal with a lot of different types of people. She really helped out with my younger daughter, who could sound off to her big sister and get the sympathetic ear she needed.

Of course, I did a lot of cooking, cleaning, and shopping, just to keep people fed! We went through a lot of Lucky Charms cereal. We hosted dinner at our neighborhood pool a couple of nights, and weathered a bad rainstorm with pizza one afternoon.

And I learned a lot about myself. I learned that nothing is perfect, and that's okay. I learned that it's a joy and a privilege to serve others. I learned that I am quite capable of not sweating the small stuff! My daughter has married into a lovely family that love each other. I am glad they came and stayed with us, and I hope they return!

Still Learning after all These Years

2008-09-08T16:41:00.000-07:00

I just finished one of my favorite books, Bonds That Make Us Free, by C. Terry Warner, again. I have read it about three times during the past six years I've owned it.

It has taken me at least that long to digest and incorporate the information he presents into my life. Next to the scriptures, I think it is the most important book I've ever read.

Warner points out that we spend a lot of time taking offense, and that this is a type of self-betrayal. We get angry, then seek to justify our anger by blaming someone for provoking us. I guess, deep inside, I have always known this type of reaction to be wrong. And I admit that since I now have an empty nest, there are fewer people around to do things at which I become irritated. However, Warner's work resonates with me. We all enjoy and prefer people who are open, accepting, and loving, non-judgmental and uncritical, and that is the type of person I want to be.

I am teaching myself to look at the world, and other people, as a happy, open, positive place. I don't view others as my enemies. Instead, I realize others are just doing the best they can, and it is my responsibility to cut them some slack instead of assuming they're trying to thwart me. Usually people who are nasty, angry, and suspicious, are unhappy and afraid. The world to them is a dangerous place. I don't want to be like that, and I have compassion for people who do.

I only wish I'd had this book twenty years ago. It would have saved me from myself in a lot of ways! I am not perfect, but I am making progress.

Mother of the Bride

2008-07-14T19:44:00.001-07:00

So, in just over a week, a whole bunch of essential strangers are descending on my house. The occasion is their son's/brother's wedding to my daughter.

My sister and her son are coming too. And I am hosting an unbelievably expensive party at the local country club for our friends, my daughter's friends, and her in-laws.

Now, nobody who hasn't done the Mother of the Bride thing realizes the huge amount of time and sheer effort that goes into these things. Not to mention the money.

I have had to:

Choose wedding invitations and come up with wording
Get bride to okay invitations
Nag bride to get pictures made to put in the invitations
Figure out how much the postage is and buy the stamps
Coerce address lists from my daughter and her fiance's mother
Create database with all addresses
Address, assemble, stamp and mail over 100 invitations
Keep track of who is coming and who is not
Find an appropriate outfit in the right color
Find shoes and blouse to go with appropriate outfit
Help daughter find a wedding dress
Pay for dress
Argue with dress shop about price for bolero to match dress
Buy fabric and pattern and make veil
Help choose bridesmaids' dresses
Buy two bridesmaids' dresses
Design, make, and install sleeves in three of bridesmaids' dresses
Make matrix for sleeping arrangements of guests
Bake and freeze cookies and cakes to feed guests
Make trip to cake decorating shop to find stand for cakes
Select and buy cakes
Arrange for friend to pick up cakes
Purchase and alter new suit for father of the bride
Endure whining from other daughter about bridesmaid dress
Nag bride about ties for groomsmen and fathers
Choose and buy ties for groomsmen and fathers
Search for a tie for the groom
Buy tie for groom
Search on the Internet and drive all over the county to find reception site
Select food for reception
Get approval from bride for food
Put deposit down for reception
Make list of songs for son to put on ipod for reception
Paint laundry room
Refinish grout on kitchen floor
Get at least one chair reupholstered
Plan meals for guests
Shop for food for guests
Search Internet for purple flowers in July
Drive 40 miles to pick up flowers for dry run with florist
Buy vases for guest tables at reception
Check out purple flowers at local grocery stores
Buy little bottles of bubble stuff
Select and buy miles of ribbon for bouquets, favors, and boutonnieres
Order flowers on Internet
Find and order jordan almonds on Internet
Buy little cellophane bags for almonds
Place almonds in bags and tie with ribbons and bubble stuff
Create and send guest list for shower
Buy shower gift
Create and send guest list for out-of-state open house
Pick up and return cake stand
Send packages of bride's household goods to new apartment
Make at least three trips to airport to pick up guests
Arrange for evening photo session with photographer
Determine tipping procedure for waiters at reception
Report back to catering manager for reception
Coordinate family members to arrive at wedding site

There's more, but this is most of it. At the same time, I am doing all the stuff I normally do: work, exercise, church work, cook, clean, shop.

I hope my second daughter gives me at least two years before she gets married!

A Milestone Again

2008-06-17T17:27:00.000-07:00

Today we hit another parenting milestone: our youngest graduated from high school.

Yippee! No more yelling about homework. No more making sack lunches which never get eaten. No more parent-teacher conferences. No more early-morning church seminary!

There's both a huge relief and a bit of sadness. I will miss having kids over and the enthusiasm and fun they bring to my house. It is never the same once the kids go away to college.

I will also miss my daughter's involvement in the high school theater department. It was a lot of fun to see her on stage. I will not miss all the work I did as the Drama Boosters president (two years, vice-president for another one).

So will things slow down now that I am looking at an empty nest? I certainly hope so!

More Work for Mother

2008-05-28T18:52:00.000-07:00

We bought this house eleven years ago. It had some stuff wrong with it, but a lot of things right--such as the price, location, the four-year-old air conditioning and heating systems, and the soaring cathedral ceilings in the living and dining rooms.

However, one of the wrong things is the white tile flooring in the kitchen and dining room. It has wavy edges and half-inch wide dark gray grout. Several years ago, I started staining the grout off-white, a many-stepped, tiresome chore I quickly abandoned.

But now along comes my daughter's wedding, and coincidentally, I found a fabulous grout cleaner. So I am taking up the chore again--and I like the results so much that this time, I will finish! It looks like a totally different floor. The grid look disappears completely, and it looks much less high-tech and casual. I will not lie, though. It's going to take me a while.

First, I spray this grout cleaner on the lines. It sits for a couple of minutes. Then I scrub, hard, with a brush and a toothbrush. Then I rinse, twice. Then it has to dry. At that point, I go over the grout lines with white grout paint. Once that dries somewhat, I go over it again, painstakingly with a little brush, with buff grout colorant. It has to dry at least twelve hours, then I scrub off the excess with a white scrubber. The blue or green ones are too abrasive.

After that, I have to wait a month before I can wash the floor. At that point, I will spray on another sealant because the tile has a lot of little scratches that hold dirt, and it will fill them up.

Sounds like fun, huh? But I swear, it looks like a new floor. And since my 23-year-old kitchen needs replacing, it will keep me going for a few years until we can afford that.

Concurrently, I am reading a book called "More Work for Mother," a treatise on how industrialization had a bigger influence on reducing traditionally male chores--for example, how the advent of coal-burning stoves made it unnecessary for men to chop and split wood--but made more work for women because, in this example, meal preparation became more complicated, and the stove needed a lot more care than an open hearth. Hmmm.

The Mirror Doesn't Lie

2008-05-17T14:07:00.000-07:00

I have spent a great deal of my life worrying about my weight and my looks. I'm one of those people who would rather be hit by a truck than gain 30 pounds. I began dieting, with my mother's enthusiastic approval, when I was about 14. When I was 17, I went to the doctor for my pre-college physical, and I weighed 116 pounds. He told me not to gain any more, but of course at college, with the stress, I did. I ate a lot, and gained about 11 pounds.

In fact, my biggest regret is that during my college years, I allowed myself to obsess over my weight and my love life and did not enjoy the variety of experiences available on campus. I wish I'd taken more dance classes, and not pushed myself to get through early (I was only 21 and two months when I graduated). I felt unattractive and therefore unworthy of any young man's attention. Actually, I was only about 10 pounds overweight.

Well, I managed to get married a couple years after graduating, and lost weight (about 13 pounds) without even trying just after I got engaged. I remember, at about age 35, getting on the scale and being shocked that my weight had "ballooned" to 117 pounds--what I weighed four months after giving birth to my son! I didn't have a weight problem until my thyroid went south when I was 37.

I went to Weight Watchers at age 43 and lost 20 pounds, a few of which I gained back, then lost a couple of times.

Still, I was a food addict. I worried every day about my weight. I love chocolate and sweets--cookies are my favorite food. I love to bake, and then eat what I bake.

Then I got cancer in the spring of 2006. I was about six pounds over what I like to weigh when I was diagnosed. I went through surgery and radiation, and then took Tamoxifen for a couple of months. It made me so depressed I begged the doctor to let me stop. Well, I did. Then I began to eat.

I gained about 12 more pounds and I have not been able to lose it since. Now, it has become a real problem because my self-esteem has plummeted, and I have to get a dress for my daughter's wedding in July. I have never been this heavy for this long. I know it doesn't sound like much, but it's two sizes for me. (I am very small-boned.) Good thing I do Jazzercise three or four times a week, or I'd be a whale.

I can't figure out why I cannot seem to stop. I have lost weight before, and I feel a lot better when my clothes fit. I have had to replace nearly all my pants this past year. But it's hard to go into the stores and face the truth in the dressing-room mirror.

I have said that being overweight is like having a ball and chain around your ankle and the key in your hand, and being too afraid, or too lazy, to lean down and unlock it. I am not sure what eating is solving for me (maybe it's menopause!) but until I do figure it out, I have to basically take one day at a time--like those Overeaters Anonymous members do.

And Life Goes On

2008-04-29T07:20:00.000-07:00

I've looked forward to it for years: my third and youngest child is graduating from high school in about six weeks. Yahoo! No more early mornings trying to coax a kid to go to seminary classes. No more frustrating arguments about homework. No more embarrassing meetings with teachers. No more politically correct idealogy coming home from some nutty "educator" who has no business indoctrinating her students with her own personal beliefs.

Part of me is unutterably relieved, but part of me is unutterably sad.

Back up about 25 years.

I was just pregnant with my son. I was happy, scared, apprehensive. When that baby was born, I was even more scared. But when he snuggled up on my shoulder for the first time, I truly became a mom. It was one of the best moments of my life.

Two sisters followed him three and six years later. I loved my babies. I dealt with the illnesses, the tantrums, their disappointments, their triumphs. Parenting is not easy, and it is not fun much of the time. I have been fascinated with these little people, so different from me, yet who reflect me too.

Now they are little no longer. I have done my level best to provide them with a happy, disciplined, principled, loving childhood. I have made many mistakes, but I have also done a lot of things right, and I cannot imagine life without my children. I have been unbelievably fortunate to have had the best partner in parenting I could have ever wanted. My husband is a great dad.

Anyway, here I am at another crossroads in my life. The work I have done for over 24 years is, for the most part, ending. My kids will all be out West, attending school and building lives with their spouses (at least the older two). I will remain in the East, trying to decide what to do with the rest of my life.

It's going to be interesting.

Leaving Las Vegas

2008-04-09T02:47:00.000-07:00

I have just spent a few sunny days in Sin City, proud nickname of Las Vegas, Nevada.

Since my last visit was about 13 years ago (where I famously tried to show my kids what a waste of money gambling is, and put a quarter into a slot machine. Chinga chinga ching! I won about four bucks.) things have changed tremendously.

No more Prime Rib $6.95! signs in the motels. In fact, there are no more motels on the Strip--just big resorts. I stayed at Caesar's Palace to attend and report on a conference of the Sheet Metal Workers International Association and the Sheet Metal/Air Conditioning Contractors' Association. Yes, unions. About a dozen women and 550 men.

I also found out that an unaccompanied woman walking through a casino at midnight gets a lot of stares from men. (And no, I wasn't dressed like I was selling!)

The food has improved, but it's expensive. Theme hotels have sprouted everywhere--and Caesar's is huge. Used to be, you parked in a vast lot and walked up to the casino. No more. You need a map to navigate the labyrinthine parking garage. There are at least three towers with hundreds of rooms. And this is just one resort. The Bellagio is next door, with fountain made famous by the Ocean's 11 and 13 movies--I have to say, though, it is beautiful. Music blaring at all times--in the elevator, speakers on the street, from the cafes, etc. I had dinner all alone on a Friday night in the Paris casino and hotel restaurant. They built an Eiffel Tower in the middle of it. I couldn't find out how much it was to take the elevator to the top, so I didn't do that.

I did lie out by the pool on two afternoons. Caesar's has the most gorgeous pools in Vegas. Going home, I was seated on the plane next to a guy who had spent several days skiing in Aspen. And I had been in my bathing suit in 80-degree weather! This is a great country.

No, I did not gamble one dime. I don't like wasting money, so I couldn't care less about gambling, but I admit I did sit down at a nickel slot machine. I fished in my purse for a few nickels, but there was nowhere to put them! The machines are all electronic, and you need to use a dollar or a five, or "tickets," which I had no idea how to obtain. A nickel slot only means each bet is a nickel. So I didn't even spend that on the slots!

The resorts are building like mad. I counted nine cranes in a three-block area when I was flying out. With the economy the way it is, I cannot believe they can fill all those rooms. Maybe there will be some bargains in the next year or so.

So, yes, I would go back, but only if my husband went with me and there was a show I seriously wanted to see.

Reality vs Expectations

2008-02-26T12:20:00.001-08:00

"We all want to have happy, satisfied husbands and remarkable children..."

Years ago, I was an editor for a non-profit journal dedicated to moms at home. Part of my job included reviewing and considering our reader-submitted essays for publication. This line from one of our submissions has stuck in my brain for years.

I don't remember anything else about the essay, or even whether or not it was published. The reason I have remembered this particular phrase, though, is how unrealistic these expectations are, even though I and most other women have them.

Who among us does not want a "happy, satisfied husband and remarkable children?" Yet who among us has them? That woman is rare, indeed. There are very few men I know who are both happy and satisfied (in their careers). And often, if the men are both happy and satisfied, their wives are not particularly happy, because that happiness and work satisfaction usually means the husband is away from home too much of the time.

My husband is successful, as far as I am concerned, but he is neither satisfied nor happy in his work. This is a source of much heartache for me, since I put him through school, and he studied electrical engineering. He has ended up as a computer systems manager. Now he wishes he had become a librarian. However, he has always put our family first and has been available for his children. He has gone on field trips and has sat at the head of the dinner table nearly every night of their lives.

As far as having remarkable children: Unless your children happen to subscribe exactly to your idea of remarkable, you are bound for disappointment. My kids are wonderful, extraordinarily creative, interesting people, but none is a brilliant student. (I have a son and two daughters, ages 24, 21 and nearly 18.) I tried to get all of them to play the piano, and each had three years of lessons that led nowhere. My daughters took voice training, and though the younger one is a fabulous singer, she refuses to take lessons now. The older two are not progressing through college as they should, which is a source of concern and anxiety for both my husband and me.

Now, don't get me wrong--I love my children. I would not trade them for anyone else! But my idea of "remarkable" children are straight-A students, musicians, and avid readers like my husband and me. We have a substantial wall of well-used books, few of which our children have read. Despite our best efforts, our children are not what I expected. They are good people, kind and warm and hardworking. They are considerate and generally live up to our high moral standards. I really have no complaints about them. But they are not my idea of "remarkable."

Which brings me to the title of this essay: Before I was married, a very wise woman commented in a talk in church that "happiness is reality divided by expectations." I must say that my expectations have had to change from my youthful idealism:

Expectations should be neither too high nor too low.

My children have the right to their own definition of happiness and success, as does my husband.
Moral character is more important than material success.

Reality is not always what you want--heartache, from time to time, is inevitable.

You can't control anything that is outside your sphere of responsibility. Give it up. Don't even try because you are bound to be frustrated and unhappy, and you will alienate others. This means kids and husbands too--kids do eventually move outside your sphere of responsibility!

Open Mouth, Insert Foot

2008-02-17T11:22:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I think I have the worst propensity of anyone to inadvertently insult people. There is a very nice woman with whom I cannot really say I am friends, but we are more than aquaintances. We were introduced many years ago by a mutual friend, and we communicate a couple of times a year (she has moved away from the area) but it seems that every time I am with her I manage to do something, completely unintentionally, to insult her or at the very least is rude to her. I really like her and enjoy her company, but if she does not feel like that toward me, I don't blame her!

I am very conscientious, most of the time, of my manners and try very hard not to make comments that are disrespectful of others. But I'm not careful enough, evidently. I am now on my way to doing the same stuff to my daughter's future in-laws!

While on a visit to make plans for the wedding a couple of weeks ago, I commented to Julie's future sister-in-law that I was totally against bridesmaids wearing black. I just can't get past these black-and-white or red-black-and-white weddings (though my daughter-in-law used those colors after soliciting my opinion. I told her what I thought, but also that it was her wedding and therefore her decision. My son loves red and black! He thought it was great.) Well, Julie's future sister-in-law had red and black too. Strike one.

The next day, I offended the girlfriend of Julie's future brother-in-law by launching into a denunciation of Hillary Clinton. Both my husband and I, and Julie's fiance's mom and stepfather were in agreement, but the girlfriend got up and left the room. I apologized, but there you are.

Then, a few days later, I was on the phone with Julie and these same young women were in the car with her. The sister-in-law offered to make invitations on her computer, which she had done for her sister a couple of years ago. I immediately said no; I like real copperplate engraved invitations or at the very least raised lettering. (Invitations are a real issue with me; I like very traditional styles and wording.) I am sure I insulted this young woman again.

It seems my life is full of these faux pas. I really like other people and I am tolerant of views other than my own, but I am also opinionated and outspoken. Yikes! Guess it's a good thing I live 2000 miles away!

I Always Love a Road Trip

2008-02-06T07:49:00.000-08:00

I have just traveled for four days across the country with my husband in a Honda, in the middle of winter. Our trip was undertaken to deliver the car to our daughter, who recently became engaged.

In spite of having to pull off the road in the middle of heavy snow in Iowa, and again at Sidney, Nebraska, we had great weather and a wonderful opportunity to see the country in which we live.

Since we were raised in Los Angeles and now live in the Washington, DC suburbs, it's a nice wake-up call to see the way most of America lives. Odd, too, to see a place like Springfield, Illinois--a small town even if it is a state capitol.

What was nice was to see that my husband and I still enjoy one another's company on such an excursion, even after 27 years of marriage. Of course, the trip included shopping for a wedding dress, which my husband undertook with great sportsmanship! I overheard a salesgirl say to my daughter, "You have really fun parents!" I think we're fun and interesting people, and it's nice when a comment like that is unsolicited.

Forgiveness

2008-01-22T06:30:00.000-08:00

My mother is nearly 83 and her health is failing. She cannot walk more than a few steps with a walker, and she spends most of her time in bed. My father waits on her constantly, fixes all of her meals, does all of the shopping and cleaning, and schleps her to various doctors.

I live two thousand miles away, therefore I cannot do much except talk on the phone. I try to make it out to see my parents at least twice a year, but I have work obligations and a child still at home. My sister lives there, and her kids are grown, but she works full-time. She does what she can, but she, and I, still carry a lot of resentment for the way we were treated as children, and the way our mother continues to treat us.

Mom is a perfectionist and highly controlling. For example, she chewed me out recently because my married son, age 24, was wearing a pair of jeans with the knees blown out when he went to see her one day. I laughed, and asked her if she had followed me around to check out my clothing when I was 24. Of course she did not, but because, "I didn't have to," implying that she had taught her own children better manners!

Unfortunately issues like this come up all the time. Both my sister and I have endured decades of spiteful, nasty carping over things that really do not matter very much. I have told Mom point-blank that her scolding and complaints are not winning friends or influencing people, but nothing changes.

What it boils down to is whether or not I can forgive my mother for her hurtful behavior. My job is to love and honor my parents, no matter how difficult that gets. It is easier now, that I am a mature adult who has raised children herself, and my strong religious beliefs indeed require me to forgive. It is also clear to me that most people "know not what they do" when offense is given or taken. They are doing the best that they can, and all deserve our love and goodwill.

Forgiveness does much more for the person extending it than for the person receiving it. Forgiveness humbles the spirit, and therefore elevates it. Forgiveness is not easy, and I have found that it requires a lot of prayer and a loving heart, but it also brings us spiritually closer to God and Jesus Christ than anything else.

Happiness

2008-01-15T17:46:00.000-08:00

I once read an essay that was actually about organizing and cleaning your home, but really was about happiness. It said, "...and happiness will simply settle softly on your shoulder." Well, it wasn't that, verbatim, and my version is unintentionally more alliterative, but you get the picture.

I have found that there is no secret to happiness, no magic formula or luck of birth or genetics that leads to it (although I am ruling out serious biochemical problems). Happiness, as I define it, is loving yourself, liking yourself, and finding joy in everyday living. It has taken me half a century of work to get here, and while I am not happy all day every day, I can say that for the majority of the time, I am a happy person.

There is always something to appreciate--be it a sunrise, the snow gently falling, the cut of a favorite pair of pants, the way a certain color makes you look, the taste of fresh bread or a perfectly ripe strawberry.

We have come to expect so much of life that happiness becomes more and more elusive, as we associate it with perfection and material things. I have been trying to let go of these external, artificial measures of happiness, and to instead opt for a comfort in my skin and an appreciation of myself as a good and productive human being. That's living well, and happily.

Now I'm Really 50

2008-01-08T08:48:00.000-08:00

Sometimes it takes a while for a birthday to sink in. When I turned thirty, it was great--I felt like a real adult, that I had truly arrived. Forty was difficult--it meant that I was definitely middle-aged. Fifty was okay; I am resigned to the fact that there are wrinkles and aches and pains, but last night I really and truly realized that I am fifty.

My husband and I were shopping for groceries, and I saw another couple, several years older than we are, but in their fifties, and I realized that we look like that, more or less. They were nice looking, well-dressed, and the man had white hair, but as it often happens, it's a bit of a shock to get a glimpse of what you must look like to the rest of the world. (This is the idea behind the secret footage and the 360-degree mirror on What Not To Wear, but I digress.)

So, at that moment, reality sank in. I am fifty years old. I am part of An Older Couple. Not much I can do about it, but there it is. And it's okay.

On a Life Well-Lived

2008-01-06T18:02:00.000-08:00

So why is my blog named this? This is simply my life's ambition. I hope that, when I get to the end, I can feel that my life has been well-lived. For me, I think that will be enough.

I guess I'm waxing nostalgic because this is the year when I will become an empty-nester. My eldest child is married, the middle one is engaged, and my youngest will go off to college in the fall. I used to believe that I'd be ecstatic at this time, and ready to take on the world once more, but I'm not. I feel adrift in an alien sea, again, as I did when I first became a mom 24 years ago.

Only now I'm much more uncertain and actually, kind of fragile. I have kids out there who are good and wonderful people, but they are still capable of making huge, life-altering mistakes. I've seen friends who don't deserve it get sick and die. I've stared a life-threatening illness in the face. I've seen other friends go through horrid, nasty divorces. I've questioned my values, motives, and decisions. I've seen my parents age and grow progressively more incapable and unhappy. I've realized that I can't fix everything--and thankfully, that it's not my job to do so!

So what will I do with the next half of my life? I am not forcing myself to decide right now, but I firmly believe that when I do look for the answer to that question, I'll be provided with the inspiration and guidance from above that I need--and that this wonderful, messy, sorrowful, joyful experience will add up to something of value: a life that's been good and well-lived.

A Life Well-Lived

2008-01-06T15:39:00.000-08:00

Although I am a professional writer, I had never thought I had the time to create a blog, but I have found that there are many others whose blogs are quite wonderful, witty and thought-provoking. So here I am, sending my own musings out into the ether. I hope that I can say something interesting to someone besides myself.