BAD WIFE

I admit it, sometimes I am a bad wife.  Jon came home yesterday for the institute feeling a little" icky", with a "gurgly" tummy.  After 24 hours, no trips to the  bathroom, no green tinge around the gills, just lots and lots of reading and listening to the news, I must admit, I am a bit suspicious.  There is no wind and I had really hoped that the yurt roof could be finished today.

So I wait . . . and watch . . .just in case he slips and I can he just wanted a day to gold brick . . . .  Jon, be warned . .   or maybe not . . . I wouldn't catch you.

Prediction:  He is going to improve a whole big ole bunch . .  just about the time the sun goes down!

7:00 pm----I was wrong, he can even manage come up with a croaky voice when he doesn't talk for a while. Now I get to listen to some show about ancient defenses . . I even told him about it . . . what was I thinking . .  obviously wasn't.

Extreme Weather Warning . . . . .

Enough is enough!!  Just don't think I can handle much more of this frigid weather . . . and yes, I am teasing some friends living in New York who have had their little tushes frozen off a-a-a-ll winter!

It All Began, With A Good Morning . . . .

Sleeping in, a few left-overs for breakfast, instead of a yummy fully loaded omelet, poor Jon.  I got him all excited and ready for that omelet and them let him down  .. .  hard!  Then off to the north 40 (feet of the back yard).  What lies ahead for this terribly romantic couple  . . . who doesn't celebrate Valentine's Day . .  just the whole month . .  not!  Only time will tell.  

While Jon struck a pose for me that is way too familiar for his liking, as he got back to work on the roof of my Work Yurt.  It started life as a car cover and will end up as a wood shop . . . ?  Hey, desperate measures for desperate times!  Before the cover went to shreds, I did really enjoy working out there.  We are having fun planning the new layout and all that.

Have I ever mentioned that I LOVE to work side-by-side with my old feller?  I really do.  Most of the time I was trimming all the suckers off of the most pathetic citrus trees in town. . . . so what do you think the chances are that we will get lemons from this tree again . .  ever?  It kept me close at hand to hunt down the rivets and little, itty, bitty washers that Jon dropped occasionally. . . .  and I could find them.  Have I mentioned that I am so grateful for the doctor who was able to fix my left eye?


He would also had me look at the bottom side of the roof to tell him if he had the screw into the hole, on top of the pipe . . . . huh?  Don't think I am that tall . ..  sir.

When I finished working on the trees, I tackled a job I have been dreading for along ole time.  We finally got tired of covering the yurt with big blue tarps from Costco and just covered the tools, etc. with the same blue tarps.  They kept rotting from the sun and so I started covering over the top of those with a big ole painting tarp. As I dug out what I needed it, it would just get shoved back under the tarps, and leave it, so you know the rest of that story.  The rain kept coming, the boxes fell apart, the shelves fell apart . . on and on it went  . .  so now I get to sift through it all and boy have I found a few treasures and lots of materials for lots of projects.  Oops, guess that means I will need to get even more finished, but that too, will feel good and a lot of waste . . . grrrr, maddening!

After resting a bit this afternoon when  a breeze came up, which could blow a piece of time and turn it into a hazard, we decided on some fun.  We love to go try all the samples at Costco.  Talk about a bust!  Only one  . . what's the deal, where is the world supposed to get their appetizers, while we shop . .  it's OK.  So we indulged in a little gourmet Costco lunch.  Should have switched these, Jon ate most of the ice cream.

Oh What a Beautiful Morning . . . . la-la-la . .

The birds are calling (or at least they were when I rolled over and went back to sleep), the air is still, cool and fresh . . . . the dishwasher, clothes washer and dryer are all running ( I've got to get one of those little vacuums that runs all around on its own).  Jon is out there listening to one of his grumpy old men (talk radio) madly working on my work yurt roof . .  OK not madly but he is working while I cut the suckers from the citrus trees.  To decide if a branch is dead, I hit it with the side of the loppers . . . hits the ground, it's declared DOL  (dead on landing).

Next will be making a big old pile of the tree stuff for a great bonfire in a week or two.  With a rack of hamburgers (tired of hot dogs) nearby in case one of the neighbors calls and reports us.  Yummmm, burgers ala citrus, sounds great, doesn't it?

I love to work side-by-side with Jon.  probably more than he does, but hopefully it will be worth it to him when we can eat on the patio instead of storing all the stuff that is there right now.  

So time to get back at it!

What To Do, What To Do?

Today I have been culling movies . . . . again.  Interesting little experiences.  If you want to make sure a show will be "safe" for the grand kiddies to watch, get a collection of the shows from the Good Old Days, right?  Ah hem . .  well maybe, maybe not.

When was the last time you watched the "Lone Ranger".  Let's see, everyone goes all over the place, shooting at other men.  Then they ambush the group of rangers in a canyon (let's make sure these kids never want to go hiking around Arizona, a state full of canyons).  Then when all the rangers have been pronounced dead by the ranger that "turned", on e of the bad guys shoots him in the back as he is walking back to his horse.  Hmmmm, let's think about this a bit. . . . . donate pile, let someone else warp their kids' minds.  Is it just me, or was Tonto kind of a looker . . . reminds me of someone . . . bronzey, big old gleaming smile, high cheek bones . . . .oh yeah, Stephen!

OK, let's watch good ole Bozo's Big Top . . . it's so funny . . .  .  as the little kid and the kangaroo hit each other (boxing AKA fighting) . .  what in the world.  Then it went down hill from there.
Good heavens, we must have been desperate for entertainment!  That should have given us nightmares . .

I checked out Lassie, with Jeff, not that little squeaky voiced little little Timmy.  I was going to look just like Jeff's mom when I grew up, you know . .  so how'd I do?  Hahahahaha but she was so pretty.  Maybe I just wanted the pearls, or was that June Cleaver, yep, it was June, not Ellen.  My country years were spent in jeans, plaid flannel shirts and big old ugly t-shirts.  Poor Jon, of course I did wrestle goats and chase chickens, when we weren't butchering them . . . yada, yada, yada.  No gramps to do all that.

I did get one with good old Liberace.  Remember him?  Now that dude knew how to play piano with a flourish? may I say.  I was definitely going to play piano just like he did some day.  What a  . . . .  don't think I can say that on the internet . . .  but I was pretty shocked after I had grown up a bit and hadn't seen him for awhile . . . . . wooo!

I doubt there is any footage of one of my next favorites . . . . Oral Roberts.  Not just any Oral Roberts . . . . the one in the 50's.  the one that could heal you but good!  Funny thing, I can never remember getting to heal my bothers when we played "Oral Roberts".  Wonder if that has anything to do with all my neck problems?  I was good and healed, repeatedly.

When my little friend & I weren't playing that (I did get to heal her), we liked play "Sacrament".  We broke up bread into a little basket from Mexico (came full of little carved, painted veggies) and the water was in my cute little play glasses (whiskey shot glasses . . . mom was smart with that one, never broke one!)  We would take turns muttering over one of them and pass it to each other.  I am so glad that I was spacey and hadn't memorized the Sacrament prayers.  I suppose mom would have put a stop to it if we had actually said them.

Tonight as I finish moving the DVD's into jewel cases, I will preview some of the cartoons that we used to watch.  If I dare!

The Three R's

I love church.  Going with the "youngsters is a special treat.  Their view of life, the world and the gospel can be so fresh.  I believe I have heard this before, but it was all new listening to Jordan today.

He talked about the three R's of making a decision.  Good things for each of us to think about regularly.

1. Right -- We all have have the right to make decisions.  How many times have we heard this from our children . . .  or (gulp) said it to our parents?  We do have that right.  Of course we grow into and earn that right as we mature (hopefully).  And then . . . . . . .
2. Responsibility -- We have the responsibility to make decisions, hopefully good ones.  We have the responsibility to remember that our decisions will (not might) effect others as well.  We have the responsibility to make these decisions keeping in mind our future and where we should be directing our path.  And then . . . . . 
3. Results --  We must be prepared to face and live with the consequences of our decisions. As these results come to fruition, we again need to decide what to do.  

Good results, grow and build upon it?  Get comfortable and start coasting?

           Undesirable results,  learn from and become stronger and more determined to go forward and improve?  Give up?

Decision making never ends and aren't we blessed to have the freedom and free agency to have this opportunity?

So thanks Jordan, for giving me a lot to think about!

Amen to This!

Today I went to the funeral for "Aunt" Wanda".  She is actually my first cousin, once removed.  When we found out that she wasn't really our aunt, we of course, just "had" to call her Wanda, but it just didn't seem right.  She was and always will be Aunt Wanda, the funny, talkative (same family, different branch!) exciting aunt that we all love.

The graveside was very touching as it is for all veterans.  Aunt Wanda was in the Navy during WWII.  After watching all of those people who made me look like a spring chicken, stand at attention, do the gun salute, play taps and then fold the flag in high winds walk off, one using a cane, I came home to the following in my email.


I didn't witness the super bowl, thank goodness.  I am saddened when I hear my nation's anthem butchered, therefore my nation disrespected, but I did hear about it.  Thanks for sharing Marva Dean!


I'm not sure who the author is, but I couldn't agree more.
 
"So, with all the kindness I can muster, I give this one piece of advice to the next pop star who is asked to sing the national anthem at a sporting event: save the vocal gymnastics and the physical gyrations for your concerts. Just sing this song the way you were taught to sing it in kindergarten - straight up, no styling. Sing it with the constant awareness that there are soldiers, sailors, airmen and Marines watching you from bases and outposts all over the world. Don't make them cringe with your self-centered ego gratification. Sing it as if you are standing before a row of 86-year-old WWII vets wearing their Purple Hearts, Silver Stars and flag pins on their cardigans and you want them to be proud of you for honoring them and the country they love - not because you want them to think you are a superstar musician. They could see that from the costumes, the makeup and the entourages.  Sing "The Star Spangled Banner" with the courtesy and humility that tells the audience that it is about America, not you."


Makes you wonder if they could make this a rule so that when The Star Spangled Banner is being played/sung it would bring tears to every eye . . . just like the night my high school played for the State Football Championship. Every member of our band (yes, I was a band geek, live with it!)was sniffing before we reached the end of that wonderful old song.  Boy was it hard to play, but what a wonderful memory that feeling of pride and gratitude made deep in our young hearts!

Sit-down Boy Scouts

When I was regularly sent up the mountain for Girls' Camp and Jon was working full-time here in town, he would try to take a week off and come up to help at the camp.  He thought it was great fun and loved to eat with the stake and then cruise through our camp to see what I had been cooking.

He was a little amazed to hear and see the goings on of the girls he had been seeing at church in their "Sunday Best" in attire and behavior.  And so the term "Sit-Down Boy Scouts" was coined.  He was so "proud" of his own little girl (M, S could never swallow air) for being able to burp more of the alphabet than the boys could when they were at camp . . . or so said Bishop Pfau.

I was reminded of this today when I had fed our own little angelic Lynneah.  I burped her and out came a dainty little dry burp and then she got the cutest little pleased smile spreading across her face . . . . . that was not a burp . . . as least not a north bound one!  She stood on my lap and repeated her proud performance over and over and over again.  Each time, that sweet pleased expression spread over her angel face, and then . . . . aaaaaaaah.

So we will apologize to her future camp leaders now and explain her behavior as best we can . . .  after all, she does have three older brothers who have been practicing for their future camping experiences, for some time now!!

DRUNK . . . YES, I SAID DRUNK!

I have been almost hyper today.  A strange feeling for me seeing that I haven't touched any caffeine for 4 weeks or puffed at my inhaler or nebulizer.  I was way to talky (yeah, yeah, but I mean REALLY talky, even for me) and had energy to burn.  For the life of me, I couldn't figure it out until the thought occurred to me . . . . I think I'm drunk.  Yes, I said drunk . . .  with oxygen!

The main clue was that I look less like this....

    . . . . . . and more like this! 

Selfish  vs  Selfless

Something to think about but more importantly, something to DO something about.

Does a person want pleasure or joy.

Momentary or  lasting

The decision will tell.

A-Hem . . .

Drum roll please . . . . . .
I slept for four and half hours straight last night . .  OK, this morning.  It was after I about had a coronary coughing, but that cleared enough congestion that I set a record!!!

How sweet it is!!!

Can not say how grateful that I have been born and can live in a country where we can get medical help when we need it.  It does cost a lot, but the more I talk to friends in other places, the more blessed I feel.

Dear Jon . . . . ..

Sorry my coughing kept you up last night.  I will try to do better tonight . . . shall I sleep in the back yard?  Would that help?

Love,
Me

Just a Fun Day . . . and Then Some!

We finally got a visit with the my dollies yesterday.  I had such plans!  But my poor tired ole body just wasn't up to so much, but I think we can call the day a success and I didn't over do it so I can keep getting over the cooties that have been  plaguing me.

When Rob and Brianna dropped them off, on the way to the temple, I had omelet ready and the toast on its way.  We had a big filling breakfast with Papa hanging around  the perimeter.  I think he must like to stand back a little and just take in the "scene".  Then the girls and I took off to Wally World to get supplies for their cook out with Papa.  What a good sport. When I asked him how many grand kids he wanted to cook out with, he just told me to bring them on.  Or perhaps he just knew something I didn't know.

I had a moment while at Wal-mart.  We stopped at the fish tanks and watched the little fish going in circles.  We watched and watched .  . and watched some more.   I started to feel antsy to get on home but a little thought popped in my head, "these are roses".  Hmmmm, so I listened and realized, that is one of our biggest roles roles as grand parents is to . . . just STOP and give them time to smell their roses.  What is a better gift for these youngsters who are living in such a frantic world?  By the time we left, they were even ready to go.

So home we went and found out that Papa already had the fires going to roast the hot dogs.  The boys showed up and the party was on!!  We have the world's ugliest back yard.  I got a good "start" summer before last, but ran out of energy and $$ so it has just sat, a lot.  But the kids, those sweet kids, who have so much to teach us found no problem and had a ball.

I have a "hill" that was hauled in and dumped years ago.  I saw some men scooping and clearing a street nearby, after summer rain storms.  I asked if they would like to unload all that sand somewhere nearby and they jumped on the offer.  It was to plant a weeping willow tree where the branches could hang down into a little pond/fountain set up.  Still have no tree or water "feature", but boy does that hill keep kids busy.  Two of my own have dug in it and now it keeps the monkey herd busy.  If I ever do get around to all those plans, I will have to leave part of that hill just as it is!

What is funny, these little creatures were clear across the back yard from where papa was enjoying a pretty calm time tending the fire and hot dogs.  This was the secret I think he must have known.  Only Lincoln seemed to visit once in a while.  He must have known that is what would happen, sneaky old man.

I have accumulated a few outdoor toys at yard sales, and they usually get played with by kids who are now too big for them, but as long as they are having fun, who is going to complain?  Add sticks, branches, rocks, a couple of big old tow chains from my dad's house, little shovels that are just their size and let the party begin!  They dug, pushed, dragged, swung and scared me every time I walked out (gotta make sure there are no sticks over a foot long) to their heart's content.  Some how, the boys were much dirtier when it was over.  Go figure.  I can assure you that my little dollies were digging and flinging  the dirt just as hard as the boys were.   I should have gotten some good black mail pics before they got dusted off!

Then Papa decided to get a little excitement going.  He really is a little pyro in disguise.  We still had some Christmas tree trimmings and he threw those on one at a time.  The kids really loved that!   They each had an assigned bucket to sit on for their viewing pleasure. . . . but this load was just to good!  Crazy old man, I sure love him.




 . . . .  and then, as all good days, it started to wind down.

When we were dating my oldest brother's youngest child was born.  Jon would just reach over and take him and snuggle up.  He knew just what to do, even with the youngest babies.  Talk about impressing your girl!  He was even willing to change diapers.  I don't think he ever changed Clay, but he was willing by golly!  If you are wondering, no, that didn't disappear after we got married.  I have some pretty funny pictures of him coming in for the "kill".  But yesterday, this is all he needed to do . .  and he was most happy to do it! . . .  and someone sure looks like their mama in this picture . . . definitely a mix of both parents.

And now I bid you adieu, to enjoy my slumber.  I have at least two hacking sessions lasting 30 minutes of longer each night, so I am going to retire earlier to get enough sleep for tomorrow . . . so I can make Jon's life miserab . . .  I mean help him work on projects!  . . .  sure hope this makes sense . . I'm not even going to proof read this!

Be Careful What You Wish For . . . Yet Again!

After a horrible night, I am realizing that I wanted to clear my lungs and that must be what is going on.  Mr. Mucus is packing his bags and sloooowly moving out.  So for the next couple of days a horse will be hanging around in my sore throat  and it will hurt like crazy, but progress is progress .  I can walk the length of the house now without getting a little out of breath . .  that would be the good news?

Seems like a good day for a little . .  something, so tired of laying around.  Wish I could sleep all day like my dumb little pooches!  The ones who have been growling every time I try to shift and get comfortable . .  can't disturb the little princesses after all, right?  They have kept my legs nice and warm so probably shouldn't complain.

A Sad Thought . . . .

I am busy hacking up a lung (hopefully because my lungs are clearing themselves?)and can't sleep so here I sits, watching a Hallmark movie.  It's called A Kiss At Midnight.  I have seen it before and it has the typical ending, happy (Heaven forbid!).  Before Christmas when I was sick, the second time, I watched a lot of these and yes, they are predictable, but what is wrong with that?

When Sarah came over, she just couldn't stand to watch them because they were "so predictable".  It made me sad that she felt like that, perhaps understandably, but still sad.

I can kind of understand because that is how I have come to feel about many of the old movies from the 40's and 50's where a couple meets, gets married a week later and live happily ever after.  Those may explain why the divorce rate took such a big jump as people who fell for that myth found their marriages to strangers falling apart.

It is sometimes amazing what is considered entertainment these days.  So much violence, immorality, evil and portrayals of the worst part of mankind.  Now that is sad . . . and frightening!

So do I believe in the happily ever after idea?  Yes and no.  I don't believe in a life with out bumps, nor would I want a life like that.  We do have to experience some of the downs to appreciate the ups, and growing from the challenges can feel so good when a person looks back and remembers drawing closer to a friend, spouse, sibling, or other loved one.  But in the meantime, give me those slurpy, sticky, sugar coated, predictable movies, where they find each other and get married  . .  after they have a chance to get to know each other!  (In this movie, they got married a year later)

HA HA HA HA HA HA . . . Laughs On Me!

I lived Holbrook, AZ for ten years.  After I took things into my own hands, I don't think I ever had frozen pipes.  In fact everyone in the neighborhood learned to call me when they had frozen pipes, because Sharron is a NUT, but her water would still be running, slushy, but running!

So why are my pipes frozen this morning?   Duh, didn't feel like messing with this last night!  The picture was a good idea.  When saw the heating pad peeking through, I took big binder clips out and wrapping tighter around the heating pad to keep the heat in.  Yes, that is the old wool army blanket I was mending last week.

A FAVORITE MEMORY:  Holbrook is in a high desert at about 5,300 to 5,500 feet.  All of the land around it is higher so the cold air would sometimes all sink into that area and it would get COLD!  One winter we had all kinds of freeze warnings that we were going to have some very cold weather, night and day, for an extended time.  Now keep in mind, we didn't have central heat.  My poor skinny little kids!  They were getting a little modest by that time and they had to dress in front of the wall furnace or turn blue.  It was especially hard for Mariah, she had the hardest time with the cold and she was the oldest.

So this one time, I decided that more desperate measures had to be taken.  Jon didn't think it was necessary, but I was the one stuck at home getting three kids ready for school.  Since our pump house had a big hole in the roof (from pulling the pump when it broke down, another winter adventure) so just a space heater wouldn't be very effective  Warm air comes up out of the well hole and usually keeps the well head from freezing, but not always, so I didn't trust the box over that either.  So the night before I REALLY annoyed Jon by insisting that we cover the roof hole, wrap the well head with the heating pad, wrap everything to do with the well with extra blankets and then cover it with the big old box to keep the cold air from it all.  The next morning we had slushy water.  Wish I had owned a digital camera at the time and had known what was going to come out of the faucet.  I kept it running until the water was a little warmer from coming out of the ground, not just the pressure tank.

A-a-a-a-a-a-h . . .

Antibiotic . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .check!
Pot of boiling water . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .check!
Vaporizer steaming . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .check!
Heating pad for swollen glands . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . check!
Nebulizer . . . . .  breath deep ;-D . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .check!
Nice warm socks . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .check!
Nice soft baggy pj bottoms . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . check!
Slightly rude sweat shirt worn to wonderful softness . . . . . check!
Green jug full with slightly fizzy cool freshness . . . . . . . . . .check!
Bowl of left-over cheesy broccoli soup . . . . . . . . . . . . . . check!
Fresh salsa, warmed gently to perfection . . . . . . . . . . . . . check!
Cute little round chips for dipping . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . check!

Artichokes, steamed and ready, in case hunger strikes . . .check!
Tylenol, down the hatch  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .check!
Bills . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . DRAT!
Check book . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .DRAT!
Hey, even on nights like this reality is still lurking  . . . . . . and at least I have a reason to pull out the check book!