And how...

I miss my writing classes...! Was going through boxes as I'm packing to move again and was Jonesing for some wordplay. My favourite writing is in form, and this is a Sestina. Challenging but fun. Find the pattern, I dare you.

 

 

This is my niece Taylor. She fell today and hit her head so hard she stopped breathing. I had been there tending, and when my sister got home we were going to have lunch before I went to work. I was in the bathroom, and my sister started yelling "Help! Help!!!" I ran out and Taylor was limp as a rag and turning blue and just not breathing. I grabbed the phone and called the paramedics--maybe a knee jerk reaction but the panic on my sister's face and, well, Taylor not breathing, made me err on caution's side. Taylor finally started breathing but she would cry and then look like she was falling asleep then stop breathing again. They came and once they got there she started acting more normal, but was just sad and lethargic. They said she's probably ok but to take her in to the hospital. I'm on my way back over there to watch the boys so my sis can do that. Scary, scary.

in 36 days. Holy Mother...

I spoke of moving in with parents once again, right? Saving money for Kenya trip etc. etc... Happened about three-ish weeks ago. Plan was to go to kenya then come home and live here while I finished up school. Funny, funny plans. Parents decided this week to sell house and move to Eagle Mountain which equals far, far away! That's what I get...

 

Holy mother my passport came back today in the mail, and the visa page is officially stamped and, well, official! Five weeks. I sent for it on May 13, and even with the expediting I was sure I wouldn't see it until the night before my flight left. That was mad fast. Whew!

 

 

I asked a cute boy who I've been noticing for a bit to exchange email addresses. He's moving this week to Idaho. Woot. And not, since he's moving, but whatever...

I'm a Mormon!

 

Sooooooo...Happy Memorial Day, a day ago. Went camping over the weekend with the whole fam (5 sisters and their husbands, 10 kids under age 8 or so) gooooood times.

 

We left thursday and stayed until sunday. Beautiful nature to be had, there was... I saw snakes and rabbits and squirrels and many, many mosquitoes. It took 3 camp sites to officially contain such a siz-ed family--2 trailers and 3 big tents. Mom and Dad cooked up pancakes and hot cocoa every morning--they say they came to terms long ago with the fact that excursions of this nature will not be vacationally restful for them--and for the rest of the meal times/snack times, all wandered from site to site, fishing through coolers left out in the open. Community style, much?

 

I slept in Mom and Dad's tent trailer, and noted to self that on future outings like this I'll be staking down my OWN site and tent...My littlest sister is 17 and somewhat autistic and has a bladder condition that keeps her (and all within slight proximity) up a lot, a LOT, at night because she always feels the urge to pee, and sometimes can relieve the urge by peeing and sometimes can't...anyway, my, uh, bed, which doubled as the kitchen table, was right up cozy with hers on the wing of the trailer, so that was very very fun. We made lots of runs to the ladies room during the night, before or after her sobs in my ear got the best of both of us...bless her heart! At home her bedroom is right next to the bathroom, so she deals much better. Camping=no fun for her. Another reason for me own camp spot=I like to sleep. Most people do, no? I'm not one to sleep really late, not at all, but you know, 7 or 8 in the morning is not a sin, right?? The first wake-up-in-the-morning of the trip is to Mom and Dad on the other wing of the trailer singing musical duets from the 50's and 60's quite loudly and giggling like schoolchildren. At 6:07 in the a.m. I kid you not.

 

I'm really not complaining! I love my family and the kids and I had SOOOO much fun. We were near a beach, so we'd take walks there and go sea-shell hunting, or "shee-shell" according to the toddler vernacular. I'd ask one kid if they wanted to go for a walk, and as if they all have some baby-radar, the rest would say "I wanna go foh a wahkk too!" so we'd make a chain, with everyone holding someone's hand, and off we'd stroll. Brooklyn, one of the nieces (she's four and absolutely JOYFUL) was most intense in the shee-shell finding. I'd find little tiny ones or particularly pretty ones and I'd say "hey Brookie, look at this tiny/pretty one" and she'd say "I wanna seeee" then snatch it from me and drop it safely into her pocket. So freaking cute.

 

The 3-year-old twins (Kyler and Kaden) are hi-lar-i-ous. Hilarious. Yes, they were born approximately 1.7 minutes apart and split from the same fertilized egg or what have you, but they are fraternal and couldn't be more different in personality. One is really stocky with red hair and smiles even when he cries and is the life of the party; the other is dark haired and olive skinned and a little slighter in stature, and does his own solitary thing with moments of charisma when he chooses to open the enlightenment gates. Their new favorite thing is to tell about their favorite part of the day. They'll wax on for several minutes each about volcanoes and dinosaurs and the Green Goblin and some idea of their triumphing over these foes. It's funny when these stories spill over into prayer time, which usually happens. Whenever we had a big group prayer, they also had to take a turn, and I couldn't help but open one eye and watch the show as they blessed the food and that we'd have fun and the dinosaurs an volcanoes... My boys.

 

Then there's Ashlynn (Brooklyn's little sis). She is a healing little boon. She has the biggest most beautiful blue grey eyes that look past your own, down deep into your heart. An old soul, she is, at age 16 or so months. She's just tiny and wiry, like a little monkey. She loves to cuddle. She was my camping buddy from the get go. Even though she's the smallest, she holds her own with the other kids. She doesn't get pushed around. She said her first "thank you" for me--I taught her please and thank you in sign language so she signed and said the words. Beautiful.

 

Jerrica and Bailey are the two oldest kids and the twins' sisters. They're getting so big, I can't believe it! There was a gorgeous tree on the edge of our camp, and they set up there immediately. They started a "Hofheins *Single Awesome Girls Only Club" (*the Single was added for my benefit, I believe) and only we were going to be allowed in the tree. Funny how these two are so many equal parts princess and tomboy. Bailey was out one evening with her flashilight enjoying a book in the tree. Very cute. Jerrica climbed very high and I was very proud.

 

Another of the smaller ones is Taylor. She is round and stout and walks around with her smile that makes her eyes disappear and waves her hand back and forth like a beauty queen saying "HI!" to anyone in earshot. She's still a little unsteady on her feet and ate a lot of dirt but had a wonderful time, especially with so many coolers with so many treats. She loves to eat, like her favorite auntie.

 

Logan and Lincoln are the blondest little boys with the bluest eyes you've EVER seen. Logan rotates between Peter Parker and Spidey. We had his birthday party and every gift followed suit. He's five and will be going to kindergarten in August. AUGUST! This is my boy whom I've seen most nearly every day of his life since he was born...he's so grown up and serious these days, and quite smart. We played a little baseball, and he instructed after an apparently bad pitch on my part, "Ame, you haff to throw it like diss" then showed me the proper way. Sighhhh. Lincoln is the most curious kid you'll ever meet. He messed with all the knobs and gadgets he could find, from the spigot on the water faucet to the camp stove controls to the air dryer in the bathroom. He's going to be rich.

 

My sister Anna and her husband and son moved to Texas a month ago, and they flew in for the trip. Their original flight was cancelled, but they found one the next night. It arrived around eleven p.m. My parents left camp around nine thirty to go pick them up, and when they returned with Anna and crew around one a.m. they found they were locked out at the front gates. They parked the truck somewhere up there and dragged luggage etc. down the long road into camp. Their little one, Carson, is long and lean and very deliberate. He thinks quite a bit before he acts. He'll put his long little index finger on his chin when in thought, then proceed to act. It took him a bit to warm up, but well worth the wait. We're such an emotional family--it's only been a month and the minute we all saw Anna there was much crying and hugging.

 

Anyway, didn't intend to write a novel, but my family, man...in-tense. My apologies to my sisters who read this and don't find their name in a story--sorry, guys, I'm exhausted! More later!

 

The photo is a piece of it all...

Reading Mauri's blog about putting stuff down in writing to get feelings out of the mind and off the chest was resonant. Me too, iguana, with apology...

 

I smell Eternity perfume and I know I like it and I hear a drunken man release his inhibitions and his prejudice and I know I don't like that. I went to a doctor last week and she was my age and signed her name with an M.D. and she's smart and confident and energetic and I know she's successful. My sister and her family came to visit and she hopped and danced and wrestled with her little ones and she laughed and smiled and was beautiful and I know she's settled. A Lisa Loeb album spins in my cd player and she sings "bring me a blessing, a prayer, or a new pen--you don't know what I need..." and the sentiment connects and I relate as she earns many many pennies for her thoughts and I know that she's content. They say dare to achieve and dream big and dance. I know what I see and gain insight on what I like or dislike through my quiet observation, yet I don't know what I want, or I know what I want but there are so many things to be that I can't decide so I settle back into observation and drown in my dreams, as I wear out and burn out and thoughts, ideas, inventions, and poetry race in my head and are trapped behind my eyes and all I have to show for my brilliance is a blinking stare and I go to work at the Chevron. Yes, there is more to life, but where does one start?

And the kids. And the smell of fire. And ugali. And the Midlands hotel, with the mosquito nets that ya really don't need. And the street vendors. And the kids. Holy mother, I'm going back to Africa. !!!!!! July 11. I can't really believe it, yet, but I'll certainly try.

 

Just wanted to share...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

7. I drink Diet Coke like, or in place of, water.

 

6. I like the smell of the Great Salt Lake, i.e. dead brine shrimp and salt.

 

5. I *must* put my socks and shoes on in order: left shoe, left sock; right shoe, right sock. ***

 

4. I brush my teeth in the shower.

 

3. I am a crazy fanatic of reality T.V. Makes me a better individual.

 

2. I quote movie lines at most times. Life *is* a movie, after all. That's gonna leave a mark...

 

1. I *heart* Batman.

 

 

Annnnd howwwwww...!

Been thinking about things. Lately, that is. Parallells have been on my mind. Years ago in a seminary or institute class I learned about how the adversary creates parallells to the gospel of Jesus to confuse us or throw us off track. Something about that hit me the other day. Now first, have you heard of the psychological principle of "Gestalt"? Nuts-and-bolts of it: we fill in the gaps when something is not a whole. Think back to kindergarten, and the newsprint sheets of paper used in practicing your alphabet. The letters are on the page for you to trace, in dotted lines, right? You look at the implied symbol there, in the dotted lines, and know what the letter is. That is Gestalt...

 

The Light of Christ is truth, and spirit is matter, so really, it's in everything. The adversary parallells that, and is everywhere as well. I was looking through a window with vertical blinds. The blinds were slightly cracked but almost shut. The sun was shining outside...I was thinking, hey, there's light out there, and the blinds can try there damndest to throw me off of that sentiment, but really, the light is there. In their attempt to misguide, they actually catalyze more sense of truth--Gestalt.

 

Bit of a ramble, I know. Made sense in my head. Ü

 

Superbowl Sunday, it is!!! I'm going to my parents to have a Super Sunday party with my family. I *love* that we are now a football family! It's all about the Manning and his Colts. Really. Check me on that tomorrow, I dare ya.

 

 

Just read Laurie's blog about being a wife and having a husband and child and all of the cyclical, reciprocal love going on. Gave me goosebumps, which I relate to the Spirit. That was awesome.

 

Been feeling the Spirit a lot lately, in small doses and in simple places. I've always believed that if you are able to feel the Spirit, something, somewhere in your life is on track. That is a happy knowledge.

 

So Superglue, huh?! This is *THE* miracle substance--who knew? Not I, I suppose. Colour me enlightened! My work pants split along the seam, and I don't have a needle or thread, so I dabbed some on, and voila! My fingers crack something fierce in this dry-cold-winter weather, right under the nail. I've tried bandages with large amounts of salve underneath. I've tried sleeping with socks on my hands with coats of vaseline underneath, to no avail. Dabbed some superglue on those bad boys: all better. Funny, sometimes the answers aren't stereotypical, but they're still right...

 

Song lyrics for the day, with much love to/for Janis Joplin:

 

 

Had a few thoughts last night about the proverbial "Great and Spacious Building" noted in Lehi's dream in the Book of Mormon. Funny thing, perspective shifting...I wonder if the people in the building aren't so much taunting and ridiculing those on the path to the tree, but rather sending out cries for relief. Perhaps they are lonely--you know, the old cliche lonely in a room full of people...oughtn't we ease that loneliness? Eh...

the catch-all, cure-all; a medicine for all that ails ya. Really. It's always better in the morning, no? And I highly recommend sleeping with the TV on: that means conversation never really stops.

 

Woot.

 

 

Once upon a time there was a woman: my friend. She was beautiful--naturally platinum blonde, if you can imagine; eyes the dusky blue colour of the sky on a fair summer day; cheekbones to die for, and those full pouty lips some pay a pretty penny for. When she smiled her eyes crinkled in the corners in that way that's just joyful. She was vivacious and lively and could make anyone grin without effort on her part. Ya know what I mean? Last night I saw something else, someone or some-just-thing take over that. How does that happen? How does one with so much--I don't know, potential (too cliche, but you get my jist)--not realize who they are??? She called me, or rather slurred at me through the cell phone speaker to ask if I could please come and get her and then get her home. She rolled in and I looked at her face and saw so much emptiness in her eyes it startled me. Her nose ran like a child's and she smelled of her own recent urination. She was so tiny against my frame as I kinda carried her to the truck to take her home. I helped her on with her seatbelt, as her own fingers fumbled to latch it herself--and there were the eyes again. Terror-ful and frightened and angry and lost...

 

Long night, it was.

 

Sorry for the sadness. Feels better to write it, sometimes.

 

Over and out.

 

***couldn't think of a title so picked my favourite generic brand...Ü

Sweet men will sing a sea-faring song...a dear strong woman

coos

gently along.

Good guys at the cozy are

serving folks for free--

(you ever noticed)

there's so many people and bands in the city!...

 

...the moon shines for you...

 

(with apologies to Lisa Loeb)

 

(google it)

 

 

I work at a local Chevron station in Sugarhouse; this is not news to many of you. It's a lovely little store, your regular little mom and pop enterprise, except our mom and pop own a yacht and six condos and it's a 3.5 million dollar store, so I suppose it's not so little... Anywho, we sell those toy cars. They make children happy. They're a novelthy, impulsive-buy item. Not rocket science. When the cars are new, we sell them for six ninety-nine. After a month or so, they move to "no longer new" status, and the price is rasied to eight ninety-nine. Yesterday, an old man came in to purchase our Breast Cancer Awareness model--it's pink. He also purchased fuel, around twenty dollars of it. He paid with a fifty, and asked for small change. He collected said change and thought about his purchase, then asked how much the car had come to. Eight ninety-nine, I replied. He proceeded to fill my ears with his bewilderment over the price of this toy, how it had gone up since October, when he had purchased two like it. I calmly explained the way new items are on sale prices while they are new, and how the prices go up when they are not. He began to rage about price gouging, said he'd worked for Chevron for 25 years and was absolutely disgusted with the way we are.  He also complained about the price of our gas, and how he can get it for two fifteen a gallon in Pheonix. He said if he went to another Checron store and found out that their toys and fuel were cheaper than ours, then so help him...I respectfully explained that we are privately owned, and the owners set their prices etc. He stormed off in a huff. Half an hour later, he came back, threw his toy car on the counter, and repeated his rage and disgust. He demanded a receipt and that I tell my owners that he is sick and tired and disgusted with their gouging. Again, stormy huff and he was gone. Half an hour later, he returned, intent on making the world right, according to him. My co-worker, Andrea, said she'd had enough and refunded his money. He was livid and then began to complain that I had not given him correct change, now over an hour ago. Andrea got my back, told him to basically bite it, and sent him away. He waved his arms and cursed Chevron and their disgusting capitalism etc.

 

Point is, sir, the year is 2006. Times have changed since 1924 when you were a little blonde boy in liederhosen and could buy penny candy for a penny. It's called INFLATION. Arby's Roast Beef specials are now five for five ninety-five. You go to the mall and have to shell out a cool hundred for a pair of your favorite jeans. We all cry at the pump as we get spanked by the price of fuel, but we fill our tanks. We are consumers who consume, and take inflation in stride. Most of us just take it as the way the world is and continue to live our lives. I'm a happy girl, usually content and willing to do my part on the beautiful earth as a member of the human race, but Mr. Jackass really got to me. Sir, if you'd like to discuss the principle of the economy, let's bring up the fact that you, in your comfortable home, where you spend much of your time melting in your recliner doing crosswords and watching gameshows (except for the days you create a nuisance of yourself in public places) and drinking your Ensure and counting your bowel movements, are draining close to fifteen percent of my and my peers' gross income with the Social Security money you receive monthly to fund your retirement. Let's talk about gouging, my bitter old friend. Step off.

 

I am not afraid.

 

 

 

 

Can anyone give me a rational, grownup-ish explanation for why there are people camping for days at Walmarts across the nation for the new Playstation 3? I realize it must be exciting and special and delightful, with new graphics or what have you, but really...! Where are there jobs? Their lives? Dignity? Minds?!

 

Can you believe it's almost Thanksgiving again, with Christmas on its heels?! I haven't even thought of shopping, adhering to my strict policy of procrastination. My future children will wake up Christmas morning to open presents from Santa consisting of whatever is left on the racks at the gas station near our home...no, I'm teasing, of course (doth I protest...?), but I just put it off so long because I suppose I'm a perfectionist of sorts, at least in gift-giving, wanting to get just the right thing for those on my list. Sigh. An english professor once told me that you shouldn't wait to write because you're afraid of putting down crap. Eventually something good will come, and the rest you can chalk up to practice. So, for anyone on the receiving end of my holiday cheer: hope you like it! I'm practicing!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Serously, take a sec and view this e-card. Tell me you don't pee your pants. Or tinkle a little.

It's snowing today! So many of us are compolaining about that, "can you believe that we have snow already?" etc., but really, it's the middle of November. Time is apparently flying for the masses.

 

Having a lovely day. It's my day off, meaning I only had to work two hours, and I have the house all to myself. I'm watching the Megan Mullaly show, checking emails, blogging, drinking hot cocoa, and just about to whip up some Shepherd's Pie for lunch tomorrow (yes, all, I CAN cook. I just don't.). I love that I can google a recipe, just like that. Julia Childs has no-thing on this domestic queen.

 

Yesterday I went to my sister's Sacrament meeting, where she was leading the primary in their music program. She did such a good job! I was happy to see her lead in the style of directing the pitch versus the pace of the songs--good call, Ang! Anyone can keep time; not all of us carry pitch so well, so having the chorister raise and lower her hand according to the way of the song is much more helpful! We were having the sacrament, and my niece Bailey wanted to show me that she could read and sing the hymn, because she's so smart and learning to read at school--big 7 year old--so she starts whisper-singing the hymn for me. Sooooo cute. Ü

 

Anyway, I'm off to the kitchen. I'll let you know how I do. Say a little prayer for me.