Eyes of a Child

Obviously I didn't continue my days of gratitude for November. Oh well. Not going back.

I realized that I've been missing out on something I love doing: writing and telling stories. My blog is the best place to do that because I don't want to be over-sharing on Facebook and for the most part, I know who reads my blog. So I'm trying to re-dedicate time to something I love and that is important to me.

Story time...

My sister and brother-in-law brought their kids to Disneyland and the beach for Thanksgiving. Yesterday my nephew shared with me their adventure and I got a kick out of his comments. In describing where they stayed he exclaimed, "It was a real hotel. Like a ho-ho-hotel. Not just a motel, but a hotel. It was like 10 stories high! And the breakfast buffet was so good. It had everything...like bacon!"

I just cracked up laughing. I guess we regularly stay in 2 story motels and the thought of having to ride the elevator to his room was a new experience. And what made the breakfast good to him was having bacon. Ah, the joys of an eight-year-old. Two days at Disneyland, a day at the beach, and bacon. But I have a hard time disagreeing with him. What's not to like?

A montage of pics from their beach trip

Once Upon a Time...

...a girl searched for answers to life. Everything unexpected came her way and life became a complicated mess. She wondered at the next step to take, the next turn to make, the next chasm to cross. While sitting at dinner deeply perplexed, an answer came as clear as the sun on a cloudless day. But what was asked made no sense to her. It couldn't happen. It shouldn't happen. Everyone would think she was crazy. One particular person would find her downright mad. Sleep escaped her that night as the answer weighed on her mind. Over and over again the debate played out until finally she succumbed and agreed. The next morning, she stepped into the dark unknown and began her journey. Someone was looking out for her as she traversed this path. Doors opened. Opportunities came. Miracles unfolded. And suddenly, she landed in a place she knew she needed to be but still wondered why. As events played out more insights came, more situations experienced, and more wonders unfolded. Overwhelmed did not begin to describe the feelings of gratitude or confusion she felt. A divine hand was definitely involved, even though the reason remained unclear. However, she trusted in that higher power and pressed forward little realizing the story had just begun...

Way With Words

I love this post on Robert Burns. Wish I was as quick-witted with my speech.

In 1791, riled by a recent review that criticised a supposed abundance of "obscure language" and "imperfect grammar" in his poetry, celebrated Scottish poet Robert Burns channelled his anger and wrote the following magnificent letter to the critic responsible. (Source: The Works of Robert Burns, Volume 4)

Ellisland, 1791.

Dear Sir:

Thou eunuch of language; thou Englishman, who never was south the Tweed; thou servile echo of fashionable barbarisms; thou quack, vending the nostrums of empirical elocution; thou marriage-maker between vowels and consonants, on the Gretna-green of caprice; thou cobler, botching the flimsy socks of bombast oratory; thou blacksmith, hammering the rivets of absurdity; thou butcher, embruing thy hands in the bowels of orthography; thou arch-heretic in pronunciation; thou pitch-pipe of affected emphasis; thou carpenter, mortising the awkward joints of jarring sentences; thou squeaking dissonance of cadence; thou pimp of gender; thou Lyon Herald to silly etymology; thou antipode of grammar; thou executioner of construction; thou brood of the speech-distracting builders of the Tower of Babel; thou lingual confusion worse confounded; thou scape-gallows from the land of syntax; thou scavenger of mood and tense; thou murderous accoucheur of infant learning; thou ignis fatuus, misleading the steps of benighted ignorance; thou pickle-herring in the puppet-show of nonsense; thou faithful recorder of barbarous idiom; thou persecutor of syllabication; thou baleful meteor, foretelling and facilitating the rapid approach of Nox and Erebus.

R.B.

The Parable of the Bedroom

Once two sisters decided they wanted to move from their upstairs bedroom down to the basement. They spent hours on the internet searching until they found the perfect bedding for their new room. The day finally arrived for the big move. One mattress was brought down. Then the second. Each was setup with great care and the new bedding meticulously placed. As the pictures were hung and the decorations placed, the sisters felt anxious. Nothing matched. As they crawled into their beds and tried out the new bedding, it didn't feel as comfortable as their old, worn blankets.

Suddenly, tears began to fall and before their mom could react, both daughters were sitting in her lap sobbing. The mother looked incredulously at her four-year-old son who stood there in disbelief and as dumbfounded as his mother. Neither knew what had just happened. When the tears subsided and words could be spoken, the girls explained they liked their old bedding, their old decorations, and their old bedroom. So at 11:00 at night, the beds were returned to the old room and everything was placed back in its rightful place.

Time passed. Each girl learned more about herself and each grew in maturity. Now a little older and wiser, they decided it was time to make the move. Once again, they found the perfect bedding. They didn't care the decorations and pictures didn't match. They were ready. Everything was moved and it all felt right. No fear. No apprehension. No turning back.

One day, their aunt came for a visit. She saw one nestled beneath her covers, enjoying a few more moments wrapped in the warmth. She watched the other throw her clothes in a pile on the floor and rearrange the things on her dresser as if she had been doing that for years.

The aunt reflected back to how she felt when the girls first tried to move. How, at the time, she felt the same way: wanting to go back to her old bedroom with her worn, comfortable bedding. What the aunt now realized is how the passage of time helped her to learn more about herself. She too was more confident. More assured of what she wanted. More passionate. More hopeful.

The parable of the bedroom took on a special meaning for the aunt that day. She knew exactly what she wanted and hoped for the opportunity. No more fear. No more apprehension. No turning back. She was ready.

Tonight I was able to have dinner with my cousin. She and I are many years apart in age but that has not stopped us from being friends. I am grateful that we have been able to build a good friendship the past few years.

I have been able to travel the past month for fun and for work. For work I headed to Orlando the last week in October. I was stuck in Orlando for Halloween and decided to make the most of my time. I dressed up and headed over to the Magic Kingdom at Walt Disney World for Mickey's Not-So-Scary Halloween Party. Even though I was by myself, I had a great time. It was fun to see all the kids dressed up and the longest lines be for the Halloween candy. Yes, I did got trick-or-treating. I was able to walk onto all the rides including Splash Mountain, Space Mountain, Pirates, etc., etc. True to form, Peter Pan still had a line as did Buzz Lightyear. Disney always puts on a good show and their fireworks display and parade were no exception. Considering I'm not a big fan of Halloween, this one turned out to be pretty good.


I am grateful for the untold stories in life. My hotel room in Orlando had this sign. I can only imagine what happened to cause all rooms to post this warning. Now that would have been a great story!

Bite Me! I'm So Sure!

This weekend I spent a few hours in the yard weeding, mowing the lawn, and getting everything in order. I woke up early Tuesday morning scratching my legs to pieces. I had over 15 bug bites on my legs! I was in pain! I had some anti-itch cream from the last major bug attack, which happened in Hawaii when I had over 50 bites!, but it wasn't helping.

I did what any deliriously tired person who was rubbing all her skin off would do. I searched the Internet. I read a few things that I could do, did them, and fell asleep for a few more hours. Woke up again at 5am, applied more home remedies, and found some relief. I double dosed my allergy medicine that morning and went to work. At the temple that night, a worker gave me some more options. So against all my self-imposed medication habits, I drove to Rite-Aid and bought some Benadryl.

At home, I soaked my feet and legs to help ease the swelling, applied more anti-itch ointment, and popped a Benadryl. The pain, itching, and swelling have finally subsided. The most interesting sensation though is feeling the medicine wearing off. Since I rarely take any medication beyond my allergy medicine, I am very sensitive to anything I take. Hopefully the worst has passed.

PS - The title comes from my sister who said that when she saw then squashed a mosquito that had settled on her arm.

Racing Through Life

I have so many stories to write about and all I can think about is sleep. Why? Because I know the next 72 hours of my life. It was supposed to be a relaxing week but that doesn't seem to be a theme for me recently. Honestly, working hard and being busy has been a blessing (Think Elder Christofferson). Now if I can just remember to follow the advice of President Uchtdorf.

Good-night! Good-luck! Pray I drive safely and stay alert as I travel back forth to meetings, to interviews, and to appointments (and yes they are all separate events).

*Kath - I'm finding myself singing your alternate lyrics to "The Role You Know So Well" as I commute each day.

Worth Watching

Last year I discovered a TV show that I found fascinating. It combines the history nerd in me and my desire to discover my own family story. The show is Who Do You Think You Are?

The show follows different celebrities as they discover their own past. I loved last season! Matthew Broderick discovered one of his ancestors fought in the Civil War and was killed at the Siege of Atlanta. The touching part of this story is Matthew Broderick's ancestor was buried in an unidentified grave at the national cemetery. The grave will now have a permanent identifying marker. Sarah Jessica Parker discovered her tenth great-grandmother was persecuted in the Salem Witch Trials. Lisa Kudrow traced her family line back to the holocaust. Emmett Smith to slavery. Brooke Shields to King Louis XIV of France.

For those who want an uplifting show, try it. It just started again last week and once again the story connected a celebrity with living history. I love the stories that we learn from our past. Now I need to get moving with my line and discover the story behind the man in the picture with the Civil War uniform and find out more about my Arabic ancestors.

Validation

My friend Anna, the one who calls me a hopeful romantic, sent me this video in hopes that it would make me smile. It did.

Humorous Santa Story

My sister was forwarded this Christmas story she received as part of a friend's Twelve Days of Christmas. I found it funny and thought all of you who needed a good laugh from the stress of work and life would enjoy it too.

The Christmas Tree

One particular Christmas season a long time ago, Santa was getting ready for his annual trip… but there were problems everywhere. Four of his elves got sick, and the trainee elves did not produce the toys as fast as the regular ones, so Santa was beginning to feel the pressure of being behind schedule.

Then, Mrs. Claus told Santa that her mom was coming to visit. This stressed Santa even more. When he want to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to give birth and two had jumped the fence and were out, heaven knows where. More stress.

Then when he began to load the sleigh one of the boards cracked and the toy bag fell to the ground and scattered the toys. So, frustrated, Santa went into the house for a cup of hot cocoa with marshmallows. When he went to the cupboard, he discovered that the elves had taken all the marshmallows and there was nothing to drink.

In his frustration, he accidentally dropped the cocoa mug and it broke into hundreds of little pieces all over the kitchen floor. He went to get the broom and found that mice had eaten the straw it was made from. Just then the doorbell rang and Santa went to the door. He opened the door and there was a little angel with a great big Christmas tree.

The angel said, very cheerfully, “Merry Christmas Santa! Isn’t it just a lovely day? I have a beautiful tree for you. Isn’t it just a lovely tree? Where would you like me to stick it?”

Thus began the tradition of the little angle on top of the Christmas tree.

Life has a Story

Once when talking with a friend, he stopped mid-sentence, stared, and said, "You have a story for everything, don't you?" His questioned caught me off guard! But I thought about it for a second and replied back, "Yes. I do." We both laughed and continued our conversation. That was over fourteen years ago and I realize many of these stories have never really been documented. My goal for my blog the next few months is to provide all of you the random stories from my life. Hopefully you find as my joy and humor or tenderness in them as I did in living them.