Garage sales and Angels...

I stopped at a few garage sales this week-end and came home with an armful of books. I am a garage sale NUT! I don't know that I like buying other peoples cast offs as much as I like rummaging through other people's lives. I can be so nosy.

Anyway...as I was saying... books.

I think that you can tell a lot about people when you see the books they've read and the movies they've watched. The varied items set out on tables and blankets on the lawn speak volumes about the lives that have been lived by the people that either carefully placed their belongings for display... or just tossed them out to be rummaged through. I have a great time striking up conversations with the temporary "shop owners" selling their wares. I love to ask questions and sort through their responses. Nosy, remember?

Anyway... as I was saying... books.

I was drawn to some "Life After Death Experience" and other semi-religious or spiritual writings. I usually pick up motivational books, self help books, biographies, murder mysteries, a recommended novel, and children's books....I have a special affinity for children's books. I'm not interested in paperback love novels, text books, cook books, craft books - ie: Flower Arranging, How to make Window Boxes from Rusty Pots, How to Make Hats out of Old Kitchen Curtains and Empty Toilet Paper Rolls, and other do it yourself books.

I read one of the "Life After Death" books this afternoon while laying in the hammock and sipping a tall glass of iced tea. It got me thinking, and I guess I'd like to know what some of you think about angels, the spirit world, an after life...
and what you feel is your purpose here. What legacy do you want to leave behind?
I'm deeply rooted in my religious upbringing... but, I'd love to believe that Fairies really exist. I don't believe in re-incarnation... but facets of it seem so logical to me. I beleive in guardian angels and answers to prayer. I also believe in serendipity. Anyway, if anyone out there has an opinion, a thought, or some insight... Please share it.

For once... I'd so much rather listen than talk.

Tag... I'm it.

Tara tagged me with some questions that require at least some semblence of a memory. ha ha ha ha ha ahhhhhh ha ha ha. I can not remember what I was doing last Thursday and she wants to know:

What was I doing ten years ago?
1. Missing Chandi who had just become a bride.
2. Taking a great deal of pleasure in my first little grandson who was developing an extremely large vocabulary and making us all giggle a lot.
3. Working at North View Dental.
4. Loving Wayne and our children.

What was I doing five years ago?
1. Enjoying my second little grandson, who was full of vinegar and sweetness. A delightful combination.
2. Living too far away from my two cute grandbabies...
3. Gaining weight.
4. Loving Wayne and our children.

What was I doing five months ago.
1. If Chandi was on a cruise... then I was watching her three little boys.
2. Snuggling under a down comforter every chance I got cuz it was freaking COLD in Sanpete County!!!
3. Praying for summer to get here the first of April...shows you what kind of influence I've got.
4. Loving Wayne and our children.

Five things on my "To Do" list.
1. Call my high maintenance clients.
2. Write something on my blog. (well, something besides this)
3. Water and fertilize my flower gardens.
4. Throw something thru the t.v. screen (Wayne's watching "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly") Urp, Gag. Nasty movie!
5. Lose the weight I was gaining five years ago.

Five snacks I enjoy.
1. Hot Tapiocca pudding
2. Really high quality chocolates
3. 4. and 5. Grapes, tree ripened nectarines, cold crisp Gala apples (with p-nut butter), smoothies, cold cereal (dry... no milk) toasted English muffins (they make the best ones on the planet at a bakery in Ephraim). I think I overshot the mark, here.

Five things I'd do if I became a billionaire.
1. Write out a really hefty tithing check.
2. Set up scholarships at B.Y.U. Law School in my father's name, and missionary accounts for all my grandchildren and random needy families.
3. Set up trust accounts for my posterity.
4. Buy anything I wanted for anyone I felt like buying something for... yes, that means total strangers. Wouldn't that just be fun?? I'd have one whole bank account to use like a magic wand to grant wishes. I'd pay for dental work for a couple of my boys... Make a years house payments for lots of people to give them a chance to save and/or catch up. It also means me... flowers would be blooming everywhere at our little Kingdom at the Hollow. Wayne would have every piece of new farm equipment and cash to pay for a little help. sigh.....
5. Die with a smile on my face cuz I'd have had such a good time with my windfall. Heck... lots of people would have had a good time with my windfall.

Five bad habits
1. Eating in the car... from the minute I snap my seat belt to the time I take it off.
2. Putting off paying my bills just cuz I... well... I don't have a reason. It's just a bad habit. I open the bill, write out a check, put it in the envelope, place a stamp on it and carry it around in my purse until it's past due. Is that dumb or what?
3. Continue to drive without a license. I lost it... and I think it may be expired anyway. That's even dumber than item number two.
4. I "forget" to put my bra on. And when I do remember... I take it off in odd places.
5. I interrupt people when they're talking. Chandi loves me...but this particular habit of mine drives her nuts! And I give unsolicited advice... most of it probably bad.

Five places I have lived.
1. Southern and Northern California
2. Hawaii
3. Northern, Southern and Central Utah
4. The Pre-existance - not sure of the exact location
5. Paradise - The Hollow ... well, okay, it's not total paradise... but, it's close enough until I leave this mortal existance.

Five jobs I have had.
1. Hair stylist
2. Casualty Claims Adjuster - Allstate Insurance
3. Private Secretary
4. HIV/AIDS Director for American Red Cross
5. Realtor
and my FAVORITE:
WIFE, MOMMIE and GIGI

Five people I will tag.
Are you KIDDING me? I want to hang on to the few friends I've managed to make.

Spaghetti thoughts

I sat in church yesterday and fought the urge to speak up and say something that would have made my husband want to sink into the floorboards. Since I controlled the urge then... I think I'll get it out of my system now.

It just bugs me sometimes to see and hear the collective ego that can run rampant amongst "righteous people". Im sure it's not just my faith... well, pretty sure, anyway. The Sunday School teacher yesterday said, "Can't you just tell who are the members of our church in a crowd? You can always tell them. They look happier, and have a more wholesome countenance. I love keeping my eye open for members and seeing if I can't pick them out." Then a couple of other class members shared experiences that they'd had to prove his point and the "yeas" rang throughout the room. WHA??? What on earth would cause any one group of people to presume that they held the market on joyfulness and purity, twinkling eyes and "Miss Dairy America" smiles? It irritates the ..bleep bleep.. out of me. Good grief! If it were possible to tell the "righteous" from the "not so righteous" a story like Ted Bundy's would never be told.

And why are we out there looking for "our people" anyway? If we're as godloving and righteous as we claim to be, shouldn't we at least occasionally be spending our time on the lookout for the lost and lonely? Shouldn't we find delight in finding those bereft of hope and giving a hand up to someone who's in a spiritual, emotional or financial slump? I'd rather have my arm around the shoulder of a weeping soul who's looking to find his way back to the good life he can barely remember, than around the shoulder of some pompous, arrogant twit who thinks that his breed of faith gives him the corner on a peaceful face.

And then... in the women's group we got into a discussion on the responsibilities of motherhood and ridiculous promises were thrown out that if we have family prayer, and teach the kiddies church songs, and take them to their youth group activities, and do all the other wonderful things that we all WISH we always did as mothers, that they will never stray from the path to God and eternal life in His Kingdom. Poppycock! In the first place... none of us, and no one that any of us has ever met, meets the criteria for being the Perfect mother...although, mine came close. Stepford mom's, like Stepford wives, are the invention of a somewhat troubled mind. And why would a kind heart speak words in a public meeting that could wound another's heart? I just don't understand how we can be that unaware that a myriad of experiences fill the chairs in every gathering. I promise you this... in any congregation, in any church in the nation... there are mothers whose sons and/or daughters are caught in a tangled web of alcohol or drugs. There is someone sitting in that room who has a child in prison, who's son is gay, who's daughter just had a child out of wedlock... She's hurting and feeling all sorts of misplaced guilt. She needs someone to help her through this heartache... to help her feel like she belongs among the "Norman Rockwell" families she perceives to be all around her. She doesn't need us to stomp all over her pain, or to clumsily intensify her feelings of isolation.

We all do the best we can as mothers. Some didn't have great examples of nurturing to follow. Some were mothers at such a young age that they hadn't grown up themselves yet. Some were completely overwhelmed when too many babies came to quickly. Some have husbands who are neglectful or cruel. Some are happy, intelligent, sweet, and loving women who have done everything right...And some of every one of these groups have a child who has, or is, stumbling along a darkened and rocky road. Almost all of us have regrets...something we wish we'd done more of, less of, or differently. But we did what we knew how to do, what we thought was best at the time.

I heard a speaker years ago who said something that will always stick with me. Not only because his words are a salve... but, because his words make sense. He said,
"So many of us are puffed up and proud because all of our children have served missions for the church, been married in the temple, and have accepted callings of high positions. We stand tall, behind our facade of humility our eyes search for those who applaude our great parenting. But, there are among us parents who have hearts torn in two because they have children who have strayed, become lost, and are struggling mightely along lifes paths. Behind their smiles, their eyes are soft and they search with longing for someone who will understand, who can lift the burden of sorrow for a while. Let me suggest something to you. Is it not entirely possible that God in all of His infinite wisdom, looked at a difficult, rebellious spirit waiting to enter this mortal existance and said, "If this child has any chance at all, it's going to be with the _____ family". And he gave some of his most difficult, challenging spirit offspring to those He knew He could trust to be the most patient...who would be strong enough to carry the difficulties and disappointments... who would never stop believing in the precious child He had entrusted to their care, who would defend them, encourage them, pray for them, plead with them, ..forever, and for always. He found some of His most stalwart and faithful young parents, those He knew could withstand the lessons that would give them an understanding of the pain our Father in Heaven feels at the loss of so many of His own dearly beloved sons and daughters."

Makes sense to me. Anyway... I just had to let pressure out of the cooker before the top blew off and I had a spaghetti dish of stringy thoughts hanging all over the kitchen walls. I feel better now. I hope you're still doing okay.

Round One ended with an OOF

Dustin and Davin came down not long ago to join Wayne for some Jeep crawling in Moab for a week-end. Dustin brought down his beloved dog, Bronco, to stay with me while they were away. Now, Bronco is a beautiful German Short Hair Pointer! He's got more personality than 99.2% of the dogs on the planet. He's genuinely funny! And he's a pretty well behaved pup. You may know what I mean here, almost always comes after you've called him a dozen times or so. It should have been fun having him here to run and chase with Pogo, our generally sweet mutt. There was only one reason it wasn't a particularly good time....what am I saying? It was a royal pain in my sit spot. Our gentle by nature, happy little Pogo, seems to absolutely hate Dustin's bird dog. If they get within four feet of each other, Pogo snarls and growls and lunges and does his utmost to rip Bronco's throat out.

Bronco could take him...easy. And he knows it. However, that obvious fact, somehow, eludes our pup. It takes no less than an Olympic wrestling team to pull them apart.

So...since I am but one aging woman, with all the strength of your average hula hoop... I had to make sure they never got within sight of one another unless they were heavily chained to fence posts at opposite ends of the pasture. It was NOT a good time. If I put Bronco in the garage, he'd bark and howl and whine and slam his body against the door...for HOURS. So, I put Pogo in the garage and brought Bronco in with me at night.

Now, I can't even begin to explain how miserable it is having this animal sleep with you. He will NOT stay on the floor. Pogo will. He will NOT sleep at the foot of the bed. Pogo's lucky if he gets the chance. He will NOT stay on his own side of the bed. He will NOT stay on top of the covers. He has to crawl under the sheets with you and sprawl his two tons of dead weight across your legs... that is, until he decides to cram his head and co-co-cold nose into your jaw, throw his chest across your shoulder blades pinning your arms in place, and settle in for a while. I pushed and pleaded, "UGH"ed and "OOFed" half the night before I finally gave in, grabbed a gardening magazine I could barely reach off my nightstand, and pretended to read it until morning light.

Will I ever, ever, EVER be caught tending this nutty dog again? I'm pretty sure I will. So... the question is, I guess... Mirror, mirror, on the wall...who's the nutty one after all?

At this stage of the game...

At this stage of the game, I've just about decided that the weather can carry on with the soft flutter of snowflakes in winter.... or spring can finally carry it's profusion of petals on a warm breeze to my land. I almost don't care. I just wish Mother Nature would make up her mind.

It doesn't matter what I pull out of my closet to wear in the morning, I'm almost always wrong. I've taken the flowering plants that I purchased for my container and perennial gardens out to place them where I want them twice now.... and had to carry them back in because of the news announcments that a freeze could be expected in the next night or two. What the heck?

I'm about ready to pack up my capri pants, flip flops and granola bars and head to Kauii. A few months of playing in the surf, slurping the juice of a fresh pineapple slice, and listening to IZ would be a great balm for my withering hopes for summer

Anyone care to join me

Am I the only one?

Okay... I work. My husband's retired. Now, granted, I don't work every day. At least, I don't drive the 30 miles into my office every day. But, on those days when I do, I've asked my sweetie if he didn't think it would be nice for him to make the bed while I'm in the shower, or make a smoothie or a bowl of Quaker Oats for breakfast. I even suggested that it would be nice when I get home at 7:30, after putting in a 10 hour day, if he'd have dinner ready. Well... I do happen to live with one of the twelve sweetest men on the planet. And as far as his sense of fun... he ranks up there in the top two. I wouldn't trade him! Not for anyone and not for anything. But.... am I the only one who thinks he hasn't quite taken hold of the idea of "helping" when I come home from showing properties and find that his idea of making dinner is putting a couple of chicken breasts on a plate to thaw, and plugging in the George Foreman grill. If he wasn't so dang sincere about it, I'd be a tad ticked off... I think... But, he's just so proud of himself, that I can only laugh, season the chicken, place it in the grill, make a salad & some rice, set the table and thank him for helping with dinner. I don't want those of you who have hubby's who are gourmet cooks, who do the wash, and vacuum the floors to go getting all cocky, now. Wayne has vacuumed, he's never done the wash, but he has made the bed... sort of. It's kinda hard to tell when he's finished that it's been made. He has made breakfast, at least he's taken the cold cereal box out of the cupboard and put it on the table, he's made hamburgers for dinner once, and smoothies for breakfast. Although I did catch him just in time to stop him from putting cottage cheese and a whole apple in our fruit smoothie a couple of weeks ago. I'm talking WHOLE apple, ..seeds, core, stem, price sticker. We have a pretty dang powerful machine, but why chance it! I kind of regretted not letting him try the cottage cheese. Who knows, it just might have been pretty good. Anyway, he keeps his clothes up off the floor, cleans the shower every time he uses it, and always squeezes the toothpaste from the bottom of the tube... so, if you take all that into account, along with the fact that he listens to my blather whenever I want to talk...even if a Jazz game's on, and he makes me laugh every day, and he's always provided me with a home with a great view and a car that makes it every where I want to go and back home again without breaking down... well, except for the T-bird, oh, and the Suburban. I've had it, and continue to have it pretty good. Life has been bitter occasionally, but generally pretty sweet, and sometimes, just downright delicious! Maybe I've always had to season the chicken, but he's spiced up our life together.

What was that again?

So... It's a typical evening at home. I'm sitting in my faded, tattered and torn, but very comfy, chair sharing a burrito with Wayne and watching Bill O'Reilly. He brings up the topic of a recent show on Oprah... OPRAH, a mainstream, nationally syndicated and respected program... featuring a MAN who is 12 weeks pregnant. What did I just say? What was that again? Yes. It's true! A transexual MAN who still had his ovaries in tact was artificially insemenated with "lil swimmers" and he became impregnated. He'll be delivering in three months. They actually showed a video of him walking out on stage on the "O" show. It was bordering on outright creepy to see a guy in a pair of maternity pants. Now... I don't know what you think about that... but I'm thinking, if he wanted to have a baby... why didn't "he" stay a "she"? This "guy" is married (to a woman), so why couldn't they have made arrangements for her to have the baby? And what the heck was with the ob/gyn who planted the eggs in this gender confused patient? Can we say, "Just make that check out to Dr. Blank Brain." boys and girls? What else could he have been thinking about other than his hefty fee for service? And where are the people who donated the eggs and pollywogs for this experiment? The whole thing gives me the willy's. I understand that the world gets wackier by the minute, and that medicine is making great strides, and that once upon a time the general population couldnt' imagine prosthetic hands with fingers that move and grip. I know all that. But... this is just waaaay too wierd for me!! I can't convince myself that it's an "advancement" toward anywhere I think I care to go.