Gratitude

I have gratitude so often in my heart, but sometimes I don't express it enough. That said, I would like to express that gratitude:

• First for my friend Bowbie. She used to coach my two youngest children in Swimming and Water Polo. She was one of the most positive people I know. She didn't allow cheating or underhanded things to go on during the meets. Believe me, there is a LOT of underhanded things happening in Water Polo. The very first time I witnessed a WP event, my youngest daughter, J, was on the team. She is just a wisp of a girl, very slender and tall, but not much meat on her body. She was being guarded by a. . . well, how do you put it gently. . . lets just say she was exact opposite of my J. I could have fit three of J side by side next to this girl, well maybe just two, but she was formidable. As I stood there watching, this girl took J by the swimsuit and pulled her under. Just like that. I watched in horror, holding my breath, I guess in sympathy, and maybe to see if she was in need of assistance. Finally she came up, grabbed a breath and down she went again. After she came up for the third time, with my heart absolutely stopping in horror that I would witness my daughter being drown, I began to holler at the ref: "Watch number 9, she is drowning my daughter!" "Hey! HEY! HEY! YOU THERE, NUMBER 9, STOP THAT!" Pretty soon the whole spectator group was hollering at the ref. Finally he blew a whistle and called something on that stupid girl. I was about ready to climb over the railing and do a high dive from the bleachers into the water with all my clothes on to save J. The other coach flipped us off!!!  Meanwhile Bowbie called a time out and talked to the group. I don't know if it was about this incident, but later J told me that Coach had told them not to cheat. Everything must be above board. When my daughter told me of that talk, I almost cried. I was so ready to just kill this girl, and that sweet Coach Bowbie was applying Gospel principles to the game. 

Lately I just discovered her Blog. She had made a comment on my blog and told me she had a surprise for me. She gave me an award. (see sidebar)

I am not sure of the significance of the words Ultimate MeMe Award, but the words she said about me were very humbling and touching. Thanks Bowbie. You are a sweetheart and I love you.

• Next, I'm grateful for family. Last week, my second oldest daughter, Kt came to visit. It was one of the COLDEST weeks I have ever experienced and I am sad we didn't get to take her and her cuuuuuuttttte little children to the park to see the lights. Our tiny town has such a fun display of lights at Christmas.I might have to get Sailor to go and take some night shots so we can share them with her children.

Kt made us chicken pot pies. YUM. She has become such a great cook. When she was young, she loved to make cookies and to this day, I cannot ever come close to the delicious factor she reaches. I use the exact same recipe, but my cookies are NEVER as good. Thanks Kt. You are so sweet. It was so fun to love your children and play with them.

The three year old is such a cute little guy. I love how he plays. He discovered our Christmas tree revolved. He discovered how to turn it on, and was so sweet to ask every time if it could go around and around. The first time I realized he had figured it out, he had asked, and I went over to flip the switch, but he had beaten me to it and was starting to play. I have a playschool manger scene in front of the tree, and he had taken all the figures and placed them on the tree.

I hadn't decorated much, Sailor and I had put up the tree with the lights, and some ribbon and bows, plus some sparkly pine cones, but that was it. Now my tree is graced with all the members of the manger scene, and some random stuffed animals. I can't bear to take them off. Some of the participants are well hiden. I haven't seen the Baby Jesus, as often as I have stared at the tree. I've seen Mary, Joseph, shepherds, sheep, Wise Men, even the little palm trees that go on each side of the stable. It is like washing off the little finger prints from a window.

 He plays so cute. Look at all those little toys lined up in a row.

Her youngest has the most beautiful blue eyes. She helped her mommy with the pies. she would press the cookie cutter into the dough and say "Did It!"

 Look at that cute little bum!

It was very cold outside.

Last, but not least, I want to express gratitude for all the grandchildren. This little guy is our newest edition. Such a beautiful little boy. He reminds me of his dad. Look at all that hair!  I am constantly in awe of the parents of these beautiful grandchildren, (my children and their spouses)  

Looking at this tiny baby, I can't help but think of our Lord and Savior, born in a Stable, laid in a manger. I feel a great amount of awe towards His parents.  I am grateful for the Love our Heavenly Father has for us, to send his Son. 

May you have a blessed and wonderful Christmas, dear reader. 

*:·-:¦:-·:**MERRY**:·.-:¦:-·:* *CHRISTMAS**:- -:¦:-·:* 

--

The Lord has two homes: Heaven and a Grateful Heart. ~Thomas S. Monson

Giveaways for Christmas

I feel SO Rich!
I have been on the receiving end of some giveaways lately and I would be most ungrateful if I didn't post about them.

The first was during a contest put on by Quiltmaker, the magazine. It is an amazing magazine with many wonderful patterns and quilting suggestions. You were supposed to go to each of the blogs of the talented quilt designers who had made the Quiltmakers 100 Blocks, and make a comment on their blog, or follow their specific rules. One of the quilt designers, Dodi Poulsen requested we send her our information in an email. I got such a cute response from her in an email just a day after I had entered her contest.

Hi Annie of Blue Gables-

Can I just say how much I love your e-mail address? It is so adorable, I wish it were mine!

I just want to let you know how much I enjoyed your e-mail this morning. It really set my day off to a great start. I haven’t answered any of the other 200 e-mails…oh my goodness, we had no idea! But I wanted to take a moment to send a note to you.

Your was particularly touching to me-
1^st my favorite roommate from college was from (your home town) and I spent many a weekend from Utah State down there. That brought back memories that I hadn’t thought of for some time. (this was many years ago mind you!)
2^nd I loved the quote at the bottom of your e-mail. I suppose I wish I were as brave as you to be able to post that at the bottom of an e-mail to someone who I did not know.
(-- The Lord has two homes: Heaven and a Grateful Heart. ~Thomas S. Monson)
Thank you for sharing your that thought… I gave the quote to my friend who is RS Pres and she immediately put it in her RS newsletter this week. I teach Gospel Doctrine and am planning on using it as a start for my lesson.(squeee! I guess she is LDS too! ::happy dance::)

SO, there- you have inspired us today! As a token of my appreciation I am going to send you my personal copy I just received of the magazine…shhhh…don’t tell anyone!(I guess it's OK by now, since the contest is over) And I want you to go onto our website and choose 2 patterns that might interest you, either from Two Sisters or Little Londyn . I will get them off to you ASAP.

Thanks again for being you!

My Best,
Dodi

I was so amazed at this sweet act. I wrote back and told her of the two I was choosing, also told her that my three son's wives had all expecting a baby, (and one had been born that very day) She wrote back to tell me that her daughter Meg (the creator of Little Londyn) was excited about the baby and decided to put two of her patterns in the mix as well.

That is not all, when the package arrived, she had written a note that said since this was one of those envelopes that went for a certain price, she just stuffed in as many more patterns that would fit. I ended up with seven really sweet patterns plus a copy of the Quiltmakers 100 blocks.


And then I won another copy of the Quiltmakers 100 blocks on this post. It was a surprise winner. They do that every once in a while. Now I had two copies of the coveted Quiltmaker's 100 Blocks. What do you do with two of the very same pattern book?

They have so many fun patterns in them, I can't wait to try some out on those other 14 quilts I have to make for the grandchildren who will be baptized when they turn 8!

I have LOTS to choose from now. :D heh





Next a blogger named Calamity Kim posted a contest. I entered and later got an email from her saying I had won out of 100 entrants.
Do I sense a pattern? Is 100 my lucky number or something?
Today I got a box in the mail and this is what was in it:

These note cards are so beautiful. How did she know I LOVED note cards. I will have to use one to send her a thank you note.

Look at the ornaments she made. I love the three-dimensional star, which didn't get smashed in the postage by the way! She is a good packer.
And look at this pencil in this next shot! Where do you find those? That looks like a twig, but it writes!
There are all kinds of ornaments. I love the homemade strawberry.
This brought back memories, I used to make something like these hearts out of construction paper to put the May flowers in on May Day. We used to pick flowers from our pasture and put them in these baskets, then leave them on the neighbor's doorsteps, knock and run away before they caught you.
I'm not sure what this is made of, but it is so beautiful and stands alone. I will hang it on my tree now. Kim doesn't realize it, but that bow matches the velvet ribbon that is on the tree!

She also got the author of this book to send me an autographed copy of her book, plus she made this apron from a pattern in the book.



















And so in the spirit of the giveaways, since I got two copies of the Quiltmaker 100 Blocks, I'd like to give that away. Post a comment on this post and I will draw a number after the New Year.

I'm a little frightened to do this for several reasons:
one, because I don't think have a large readership and how sad to have only one comment on a giveaway.
second, because now that I have seen some of these beautiful and generous boxes I have received from complete strangers, but friends from the blog world, I have GREAT BIG SHOES to fill.

And speaking of Kim and shoes: a funny but small-world story. Most recently, Calamity Kim asked for a Volunteer Elf to test a pattern she wants to put on Etsy. I guess I didn't realize it was the SAME Kim whose contest I won. I answered her call, by asking a question about them. She sent me a pattern, and I felt like, even with Christmas rush, I needed to give back and do this for her. But I didn't realize that the person I was giving back to was indeed the very person whose box arrived in the mail the next day! So here is a picture of those darling baby shoes whose pattern I tested. By the way, the blanket this was photographed on was from another sweet lady in Blogland. I had joined her Pay It Forward blog and she sent me the blanket, then right after that I won a giveaway she had for the purple checkbook cover, which I use ALL THE TIME.

My husband likes to say, "what goes around, comes around" but he always means it in a negative way. I'm thinking sometimes it turns out positive as well.
Merry Christmas
~a

PS
12/22/09:I am getting excited about this since I first posted this giveaway and even though I will be drawing the winner after the 11th of January (that's when I will be back home), I am gathering a fun amount of Christmas things to add in the box. squeeeee!

PPS
I will need some way of reaching you, so send me your email address if you want to be a part of this contest, please. If I cannot reach you through your blog, then email me your email address please

PPSS
I have a bunch of vintage sheets. If you want to pay the postage, I will be glad to send them your way! Just send me an email.
annieofbluegables121[at]gmail[dot]com

Too Fun

When my daughter met her future husband online, then met him in person, fell in love and married him within 5 months, I had many misgivings, even though I am a great fan of You've Got Mail.

But he turned out to be a wonderful young man and we are thrilled with how happy they are. They recently celebrated their 5th anniversary, have purchased a home, have two children and are living a happily-ever-after life near his graduate school.

I never dreamed I would meet any of my blogger friends. But this year is the year to meet some of them. I recently met Lori when she was in town on a business trip. I have loved her blog and felt like if we actually met, we would feel right at home, and I was right. I have been reading her blog for at least two, maybe three years, and I have come to think of her as almost a sister. Now met another newer blog friend, and we hit it off too.

My new friend's name is Kristeen. Her blog is called the Gough Inn. I discovered that her dad lives in a town 15 miles away from mine, and she is visiting him for a while. I took a little time out yesterday before I headed up to Salt Lake to my choir.

We had a great visit. Her dad is such a sweet man, with a dimple in his cheek so deep you just want to sigh every time he smiles.

Kristeen is such a talented lady. She painted a scene on her dad's wall that shows his homestead where he used to live. I used to punish my daughter for writing on the wall. I should have encouraged it, I guess. I WISH I had remembered my camera, because I would have loved to include a picture of her painting on his wall. She is actually writing his personal history and is printing it in book form through blurb.com.

She already wrote her mom's history the same way. She is able to make these beautiful scrap book pages digitally and then send them to blurb, arrange the pages the way she wants and have them print and bind them. The work she has done is phenomenal. She has done some amazing things with Photo Shop. I am astounded. If you want to see a sample of one of her pages, click here and scroll down. The picture of the man resting behind the two horses was painted in photo shop. I looked pretty carefully and it looks like an old time photograph. She is very talented. She waves you away when you express this opinion in an "anyone can do this" attitude, but believe me, I am SURE this is not so.

Sailor is very interested in this procedure of using blurb to write some family history. I am excited about his interest, and maybe we might even get reckless and purchase Photo Shop? I think I might have some major fun with it as well.

I hope you have a great Thanksgiving, and thanks for stopping by.

~a

Visible Risible

Last night a new experience was introduced into my life. For the first time I got to meet fellow blogger friend, I had "met" on the internet and loved for several years. I feel like I have known her forever.

In my posts I have often mentioned Lori from Mostly Risible. I was first attracted to her blog from some other I was reading that mentioned Lori was in Italy now.

With Italy, being on my wish list, I immediately hurried over to her blog and began to read all about her adventures, which were being blogged about as she was experiencing them.

I spent a great deal of time reading about her Italy trip, and the other things she was doing. She sent the information almost immediately, so it was as if we, the blog readers, all got to come with her. We even got to see the food they were eating. If you plan an Italy trip, I would recommend going over to her blog and reading her recommendations to add to your itinerary.

As I began to get acquainted with her writing and cast of characters, I began to feel like we had known each other before. She just clicked with me. How can that be? But I almost felt like she could be a sister, separated at birth. She just felt like family.

I have to admit I spent a great deal of time reading past posts and learning about this fascinating lady. Her writing always elicited a giggle, and I found myself reading the posts to my hubby.
Eventually I was introduced to her sister, Heidi and fell in love again. Wow, TWO new sisters.

Anyway, long story short, she was in Utah this week on business and we met and had dinner. It was all I had imagined. She is just as darling in person as she is on her blog. We had a delightful conversation. I brought my sweet Sailor (hubby) along and he added a great amount to the conversation. The sweetie paid for our dinners! Quite an uneven trade, as I only knitted her a heart dishrag and a pot holder. heh heh.

I remain charmed.

Thanks Lori!

Tearful Reunion

Way back during my Ricks College days, I discovered a new me.

During my younger school years I had a lot of trouble making friends. I was terribly shy. I would duck into the nearest class room before I would meet someone I knew in the hallway to avoid saying "hello." I never knew what to say, so I would have rather hidden than embarrass myself. Most people thought I was stuck-up. Needless to say, I only attended two dances in my High School career. Yeah. No fun.

So when I graduated, I decided I'd had enough school and would never go further. I took off a year and worked at the University Bookstore. I worked for a wonderful woman, Marie, who was my mom's age, and she was so kind. She laughed at my jokes, she took me seriously as a person. My self confidence grew and I came out of that shell. As I served students, I discovered what looked like a pretty fun life. I decided to apply for college and give it a try.

Since I'd investigated the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints as a young girl with my family, I decided to attend their junior college. I went there as a non-member. It was more than I had ever expected. The campus was so nice. The people were as well. It was like a large High School with much school spirit.

The first week was "Hello Week" and they asked us to say "hello" to everyone we met in the hallways or on the sidewalks. Everyone spoke to one another. We got into the habit of saying hello and it became natural to greet one another for the rest of the year.

I met many friends. My professors called me by name. I had a date almost every week, and one Saturday, I had two dates, back to back. All these firsts gave me more confidence and I became who I am today, an outgoing, friendly, confident and happy person. Well I like to think I am those things.

I got a job on campus. I loved A Capella, German, Art, and English and looked forward to those classes. A Capella and German were every day. I grew close to the classmates in both those classes.

My mom, who never joined the LDS Church, made me promise that before I thought about joining the Church, I should read the Doctrine and Covenants (one of the four scriptures we read). She had read it, and felt I would benefit from reading it. I tried and didn't understand what was being said, so I asked a classmate, Mike, if he would help me understand. We made an appointment to meet every day at lunch time in the Student Center to discuss what I had read. He faithfully met me and helped me through. When the time came to choose to be baptized, I was required to get parental permission. The legal age in those days was 21. Today it is 18. But I went home for Christmas and approached my parents separately. Mom's reaction was "what did your father say?" Dad's reaction, when I asked him if I could talk to him, was to pull up an extra stool in the shop and sit down to listen.

It scared me to death, because usually when I visited him in the shop, he would continue to work, this time he sat down on the other stool to listen. I choked out the words, and his reaction astounded me. He said, "Of all the things you could choose in this world, I am glad you choose a Church." He went on to explain that some of the men who worked for him in the machine shop had children close to my age. Many of their children had made what seemed to Daddy like bad choices; drugs, pregnancy, running away from home, etc. He was glad I had chosen a Church. He then went on to make me promise to live its every principle. He told me I was joining the Lord's Only True Church. He said he couldn't do it himself, he didn't think he could ever quit smoking or serve as avidly as they expected him. I promised, and he gave me his blessings.

So when I went back to college after the Christmas break, I called the Bishop in my Ward and asked him how I could set up a baptism. I asked Mike to baptize me. On a cold winter night, January 16th, I was led down into the warm waters of the baptismal font and was baptized by Mike. My A Capella teacher sang "The Holy City", another music professor gave the talk, all my male teachers laid their hands on my head and confirmed me a member. I counted and there were 30 friends attending that special night for me. It was such a beautiful night, I will never forget.

I have always held Mike in high esteem for what he did. He was so kind and special to me. He was in my German class as well as in A Capella. He had a gorgeous tenor voice.

He left on his mission to England after the spring semester, and I wrote to him, but after he returned from his mission, I lost touch. Eventually we found each other and exchanged Christmas greetings, but not too much else. They were infrequent. Then one day after we had moved to Utah, he called me to say he was in my tiny town. He was there for business, he sold insurance. He wondered if he come visit me. He met the children, who all got bored and went to play. I assured him that my husband would be home any time, maybe they could meet. We visited for a while in our living room, but it got late and time for him to go, and my husband was late for some reason. I was so sad they couldn't meet.

Fast forward to last night. Our choir, The Choral Arts Society of Utah, got back into session last night after a brief summer break. The board member in charge of attendance introduced the four new members. As he introduced them a familiar name was announced. Mike M. I couldn't believe my ears but when they introduced his wife, I knew it must be the right ones as I recognized her name as well. I must have inhaled audibly because the attention was drawn to me and I was shedding tears, before I knew what had happened. He introduced himself and said they had recently been in a choir for a temple dedication. They had such a good experience they decided to join a choir, and he had remembered my letter inviting him to join from many years ago.

I then stood and explained that we had been friends so long ago, and he had baptized me. Needless to say, it was a tearful reunion. I knew which town he lived in, and as I passed by that town every week, on my way to choir, I thought of him and wondered if I would even recognize him were we to be filling in gas at the same station. I didn't know. Obviously I didn't recognize him until they introduced him. What a sweet reunion. After wards, I introduced him to my husband and he introduced his cute wife. I am so happy they joined. This is the fourth friend I have recruited for this choir. I want everyone who loves to sing to have the fabulous experience that I have here. I hope they do.

What a fun day it has been. A date with my sweet husband to the temple, then a happy reunion with a long lost friend. I am floating on air.

have a nice day
~a

Pro bono

Yesterday, for some reason, turned out to be Volunteer Day for me. In the morning, I returned a call from my former voice teacher. I was hoping she had some kind of musical thing she wanted me to do. Instead, she asked if I knew anything about framing pictures. As a matter of fact, I used to work in an art and framing store, matting and framing pictures. I went to her house, and by noon, I had finished framing her picture. Then I moved on to a dress someone wanted me to hem with my serger. The friend I was doing this for had traded me a spool of wooly nylon for my work. My serger didn't work on this very frail fabric and ended up leaving a frayed edge and a line of serging thread that had frayed off the end of the fabric. I fiddled and experimented and finally ended up sewing a rolled hem on my other machine.
Finally in the evening, my sweet neighbor who has been my best friend since I moved here 20 years ago ended up coming over, since poor Sailor was called out to work a graveyard shift as the welders fixed some blown out tubes at the power plant. We had a "girls night out" or maybe I should say "in" as we made handouts for her upcoming lesson in Relief Society. I had so much fun with my sweet friend laughing and talking while we made her handouts. We were going to watch a movie, but ended up just talking. Her dad has been terribly sick and then died this spring, and she has been so busy either taking care of him for years or just recovering from his death that I haven't seen much her. It was such a fun evening, even though we dragged to bed by 3:00 a.m.
I am still working on my grand daughter's blessing dress which has to be done by Saturday when she is blessed in her home.
Sharing talents and serving others is such a refreshing thing to do. I find myself so much happier when I have done something for someone else. Its amazing when doing these types of things how one is no longer focusing on themselves but busily and happily serving someone else.
And even though I feel wiped out from keeping such late hours, I cherish that time spent with my sweet friend.
~a

a fun game

My friend Lori had this on her blog. I tried it out and after all that work, I had to make it into a post.

1. Type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr Search.


2. Using only the first page of results, and pick one image.


3. Copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into Big Huge Lab’s Mosaic Maker to create a mosaic of the picture answers.

The questions:
1. What is your first name?
2. What is your favorite food? right now?
3. What high school did you go to?
4. What is your favorite color?
5. Who is your celebrity crush?
6. What is your favorite drink?
7. What is your dream vacation?
8. What is your favorite dessert?
9. What do you want to be when you grow up?
10. What do you love most in life?
11. What is one word that describes you?
12. What is your flickr name?

1. Garibaldi in Laguna, 2. 4 New Flavoured Ice Cream Plush Toys from Chocolate Log, 3. B High School, 4. Purple fingers, 5. Hugh Grant & D???, 6. first batch of grape juice, 7. Fresco, Oberammergau, Bavaria, Germany, 8. Delicious., 9. LDS Conference Center - Mormon Tabernacle Choir, 10. Snowmen family in TX, 11. I Heart My Sparkling Shower, 12. Annie newborn

For YardSnacker, I have added this smaller picture.He said he couldn't see the larger one. Is this the same for the rest of y'all?

~a

A tribute to Rodger

As I said in the previous post, I found out that my chiropractor, and friend died on Friday May 16,2008.
He was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer earlier this year. Our Bishop says he has known several who have had it, and no one he has known has ever made it past 102 days. Rodger didn't make it to that mark.
He was such a good man. Besides his full-time job as Chiropractor, he was the Family History Director for as long as I can remember. He was very knowledgeable in computers and Family History. He was very kind and good with people and served many hours there. He also served on the High Council in our Stake, as Fire Chief of our local Fire Department. He also ran for and was voted into the City Council at that last election in November. He served for many years on Thursdays in the Temple as well. He also served as our Gospel Doctrine Sunday School teacher.

I never heard a word of complaint. I remember once I had a pinched nerve in my neck. I went to him to see if he could fix it. He worked for weeks, and I cried on his "shoulder" about how bad it was. It was Rodger who finally helped me cure it after 5 months of agony. He mentioned that he wished he could prescribe ultra sound. I had never heard of that being used to heal, usually it was to see how big the baby is, and tell the gender. He said an MD had to prescribe it, and I asked him which doctor in town would go along with his advice. He told me, and I went to that doctor. He was reluctant, but went along with it and after the first session I could feel a definite difference. After 6 treatments in the space of two weeks I was cured. Thanks Rodger. At the time I was serving with his wife in the Relief Society and in the Genealogy Library as well. I was thinking about quitting everything, but because of Rodger I was able to continue everything. Towards the end of his life, when the hospice workers were assessing his pain. They asked him how he would rate his pain, the worst being 10, the least being 1. His reply? "If 10 is what the Savior felt when He was on the cross, then I am a 1." And I complained and cried with a pinched nerve.

He and I had long talks, between the chiropractor visits and the Family History work. We were sort of kindred spirits in that we both love to travel. This man was amazing. He spoke French. He served a mission in France and majored in French. I remember once my husband mentioned to Rodger that he just got done reading the unabridged version of Les Miserables. My husband was so proud of having slogged his way through hundreds of pages of French history. Rodger said he had read it too, in French!

Today in the funeral, the Stake President mentioned his last visit with Rodger. He asked him if he could do anything for him. After a long pause, Rodger said he wanted his family to understand how much he loved them, but how after mourning, he wanted them to get on with life and not stay stuck in the mourning state. Then he mentioned he wanted his Temple Recommend renewed. Lastly, he bore his testimony of his knowledge that Jesus is our Savior, he died for us and because of this we all will be able to be resurrected and live with God again. He wanted his children to hear his testimony and asked the Stake President to speak at his funeral and convey this to them. I have to say, it was a "15-Kleenex-tissue funeral." A record for me.

A fitting tribute to him was the firemen of our local volunteer fire department who came in dress uniform. There were about 15 of them sitting in a row in the back. A large fire truck and a medium fire truck led the way and another SUV fire truck transported the casket to the cemetery. What Kleenex I hadn't used up at the funeral were finished off with this sweet tribute.

The image I will always have of Rodger is of he and Mary walking in the early hours of the morning past my house. Getting fit, talking and enjoying life together.

I always appreciated his kindness. The words I most often heard him say were "I understand." He has left a very large gaping hole in this community which will never be filled again. I am glad for this Canadian's life, and that he chose to spend over 20 years in this community. I am glad for my close association with him and his family.
His life and his sudden death have taught me two things:
1. I want to live a more Christ-like life.
2. I want to be sure I tell all those around me that I love them and cherish my association with them.
May God Bless you Rodger, and your dear sweet family. God Be With You 'Til We Meet Again.

One Of Those Busy Weekends

On Friday, my sister, her husband and I traveled to St. George to watch their grandson sing with the Phoenix Boy's Choir. Their director was once a director for the Vienna Boy's Choir. He was very strict and they were very disciplined and very good. He was trying to be very good so he could qualify for the next tour group. And when I say "be good" I mean follow all the rules.

They really did well and I had a fine time getting to visit all my sister's friends who live in that area and with her grandson. He would be my grand nephew. He is 11 and a very fine young man.


After spending the night, we went back to Salt Lake where we performed in Murray Park Amphitheater for Armed Forces Day. We had a packed "house", which has never happened before, and we had a good concert which ended in fireworks. Two of my girls came with their husbands and family. My husband had gone to a boat builder's mess-about at Starvation Reservoir and got there after the concert, then we went to D2's for ice cream and strawberries and visiting. We left pretty late and got home by 2 and finally in bed by 3:30 which made for a really hard Sunday. Needless to say we took naps after Church, but mine turned into a 4 hour nap. Which is bad later because it is hard to go to sleep after such a long nap.

That Friday morning, I found out after the fact, my chiropractor, Rodger finally died.
I will make that another post, I want to dedicate a whole post to my friend.
~a

Reconnecting with lost friends and Lurking

The word "Lurking" has such a bad connotation. But I see that word all the time on other people's blogs such as:
PLEASE MAKE A COMMENT, DON'T BE A LURKER

It is used in the context of someone hanging around, but not making their presence known. To exist unobserved or unsuspected. To me that sounds so evil. Don't get me wrong, I don't consider someone who doesn't comment as evil or a lurker.

I don't always comment on other's blogs. Sometimes when I read someone else's post, I don't really have much to say and just close the window and move on. I understand that very clearly.

But today I got a comment from D3's BEST FRIEND from High School. They played Water Polo together and when they weren't doing that, they were hanging out at each other's homes. They were so attached at the hip that if one wasn't there, we would ask WHERE IS SHE?
I had no idea she even had a blog! I looked on her blog, and lo-and-behold she had us listed on her blog roll!

I was so excited to reconnect with her and see she has a blog. When your children graduate and leave home, their friends leave as well. While exploring, I found several other friends of my kids in links. I had such a wonderful time reading everyone's blogs, that I forgot to comment and became a lurker myself, I guess.

Several times this last week during the course of a conversation I would be surprised to hear a friend say how they read my blog all the time. These were people I didn't realize even had my blog address. It is amazing to me, because I hardly ever get many comments on my blog, and just assume no one ever reads it except my sweet Friend, Sailor, my kids (who sometimes don't make a comment), or my my online friend Lori. My SIL2 remarked once that he checks his blog several times a day to see if anyone has made a comment. I feel the same way.

I loved that my daughter's friend made a comment! Thanks Sarah! You guys just vanished off the face of the earth after your mom moved away. I am glad you are back in my life, even if it is through cyberspace.

I saw on someone's blog a place for a guest book. I just now made up a way to sign the guest book. Just click on the box marked Guest Book. It will link you to a post that I created called Guest Book. I LOVE comments and reconnecting with friends. Thanks to you who DO make comments, and thanks for stopping by. Let me know next time you are in the cyber-neighborhood. I would LOVE to know who visits so I know my audience and can write with them in mind.

~a

Life is so short

I got a call this morning from my friend, LuAnne. She was calling on her cell phone to tell me she was on her way up north to help her sister-in-law who had just called. LuAnne's baby brother, Owen (age 37) had just died this morning of a heart attack! He left behind a young wife and 5 little ones.
It threw me into such a fit of sorrow, there was no consoling me. I cried and sobbed my heart out for quite some time this morning as I called the various church leaders to let them know of this devastating news. My heart aches for my friend. She lost her father to skin cancer which took his life from the first noticeable bump in October in 4 short months. Her mom died 21 years ago, a victim of the down-winder's syndrome, just after we moved into this community.
My sweet friend is single and has taken care of her dad ever since. I think she is a heroic and amazing girl to have put her life on hold for her dad. There was another disturbing thing that happened just after her dad's death. I cannot believe my poor friend has gone through so much in such a short time. This is April.
To help console herself, she said, "I guess Dad needed him for some work he is doing in Heaven."
Life is short. We never know when the Lord will beckon for us. I hope I am ready. So sorry to write of such devastating news on my blog, but I wanted to make a note. This is, after all, sort of a journal for me. . .

please say a prayer for Lu Anne and her family. and give your loved ones a hug.

~a

Missing You

Why is it that we take things and people for granted until they are gone, or almost gone?
The other night we went to D2's home, where she graciously hosted a birthday party for D1. They are really close friends as well as sisters. I relate to this friendship because my younger sister and I were close like that. But because of the distance between us (600 miles) we don't get to see each other as often as we would like.
D1 & D2 see each other each and every Wednesday. It is D1's day off and she comes to D2's house to do laundry, to watch D2's baby and allow tired D2 to sleep in after working all night at the children's hospital, and to visit most of the day after she wakes up. I love that they are so close.

As we left, sweet Grandson was in her arms and he made a little question-type noise. It sounded to me like: "Why is Fun Grandpa leaving already? Can't he stay longer?" He is almost 2 years old, and so darling. He recognized us immediately when we arrived and greeted us with happy smiles, and leaning into us so we would hold him. He spent most of the evening running back and forth between us and allowing each of us to hold and love him. Grandpa has the strength to lift him high and upside down and make his feet walk on the ceiling, and he loved it and giggled and begged for more.

As I heard that little inquiry directed at our backs, I began to cry uncontrollably and continued to cry for almost 10 miles. I don't usually do this now, but I used to every time I left my Grandma. I felt so silly, but couldn't help myself. What was that?

This weekend we helped S2 with some concrete work. His wife and family are in another state visiting her family. I saw tiny evidences of the sweet children, a Care Bear here, a tiny truck there, and I felt so sad they weren't there. I can imagine how empty it is for S2. I am not sure why I get so nostalgic, they haven't died or anything. What's with you, Annie? Buck UP! I remember once when my youngest daughter was only 2 years old and the neighbor came and picked all my kids up and took them to a birthday party. I stood there in the midst of a perfectly clean house and began to cry.

A dear friend and my chiropractor who is just a few years older than I has been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. I have respected this man for his wisdom, his knowledge of Genealogy, and especially his kind mannerisms. He has always been a friend, and always says: "I understand" in response to many of my complaints or frustrations. He is still so gracious, even in this trying time. He expressed how grateful he is for trials, and the fact that they make you stronger. He gave the Easter talk today on the Atonement. I was glad I had restocked my Kleenex in my Church bag. We have been neighbors for many years. I will miss him so terribly when he is gone and I pray mightily for his miraculous recovery. He is serving as the Genealogy director of the Family History Center of our town, the Fire Chief of the volunteer Fire Department and as a County Commissioner. He served for years in the Temple as well. He has always been calm and very kind. I cannot imagine how life can go on without this giant among us. I have always respected him, but now that I think about him not being here, I cannot imagine life without him or watching his little wife without him. It just can't be!

I have had friends move away, some that have left HUGE holes in my life. We call and write every so often, but generally unless one of us makes a concerted effort to go visit, no matter how much I loved these friends, generally once they are out of sight, life goes on with out them and basically you forget them until Christmas or some other special occasion. Then they are included on your mailing list. Some friends are only heard from in e-mails, and some are only those annoying forwards with nothing personal added. I guess this indicates that at least they are alive and well enough to forward me annoying email. I once had a circle of friends who I did everything with. I took them for granted. We remembered each other's birthdays and met for those occasions, treating the birthday person to lunch, and lavishing each other with Christmas gifts, and birthday gifts, etc. Then one moved away. We all were devastated. We continued with our circle of friends without the missing one, then another moved, then another, then I moved. Leaving behind one friend, who was terribly lonely. But she was not the only one lonely. I never had such a circle again. And as I have talked to these "sisters" none of them have ever had such a circle again either. It was such a rare sweet gift we had, and we all took for granted.

I know we cannot go through life thinking, "This may be the LAST time I see this dear friend or family member." How morose would that be? But how do we not take them for granted either? We get caught up in the every-day living and just expect that we will see them next week in Church or in choir. I tell each of them how much I love them, every time I see them or talk to them on the phone. I tell all my dearest friends "I love you." I know it is a little weird for some, but I tell them anyway, because I truly do.

I call my mother quite often. We both have free long distance. I signed up for this thinking of my mother especially. She cannot live forever, I know this, and I dread the day she has to leave this earth. I don't know if I can go on without her.

I text my sweet Zeepter often, and send her lots of emails. I receive all those cheesy and some really cool forwards from her, but this is evidence she is alive and I rejoice in them.

Last, but not least is my sweet husband. He is so good to me, he shows me every day how much he loves me. I do NOT take him for granted, and I know he feels the same. Daily we show and tell each other how much we mean to each other. It is easy because I see him every day, and not a day goes by without expressing our love to one another. He always leaves a sausage cooked in the pan for breakfast, he always kisses me good-bye in the morning, and I try to make sure the house is nice for him to return, laundry done, etc. He leaves every single morning and goes to work to earn the living. He is my hero.

Besides my good husband, I still think I take the rest for granted. How do we continue to live our daily lives and still express to our friends and family how much we cherish them?

I will send those questions out to the virtual universe and hope you will tell me how you express your affection for your loved ones.

Happy Easter

~a

Its who you know

My dear friend and her husband from Switzerland just left on the plane today. I enjoyed a week of their companionship, spirit and conversations. We stayed up to all odd hours talking, and still had more to share in the morning. Her very patient husband just laughed at us girls, still talking about "what girls usually talk about, no matter what the age."

We shared ideas on lessons for Relief Society, spiritual experiences, dating experiences and recipes. On the spiritual plane, she has several friends "in High Places in the Church and community." She was kind of embarrassed to tell me who she was going up north to visit, because she thought I will think of her as a name dropper. She even went so far as to say, "I don't consider myself a better person because I know these people." I said I thought I was a better person because I knew her. What I think she meant to say was that she didn't consider herself more prestigious because of who she knows.

But having met some celebrities, I have to say, it is fun to know these people. It is fun to say I have met some of these people and talked to them face to face. My choir experiences have allowed me to mingle with some celebrities. What I have learned from this is that they, like most other people are usually down-to-earth people, and like me, they put their pants on one leg at a time.

But because I have mingled with these people and people like my Swiss friends, I consider myself richer. My experiences are richer because I have spoken with them, I have learned from them and maybe even taught them something.

The people we meet every day can have a profound effect on our lives if we will let them. We lost two good men in our community, one is my Swiss friend's dad, Don. He and his cute wife were my neighbors. I attended their 60th Anniversary. She was in a Jazzy chair and he took her by the hand and led her onto the dance floor and danced with her. He twirled her. It took some fancy foot work and Jazzy movement to appear graceful out there, and they managed. The onlookers dabbed their eyes at such a loving sight. I am richer for having known Don and Dorothy.

I once was a visiting teacher to a very humble but proud woman. Jean Carpenter was an estranged member of our congregation. She lived in this tiny house with her 40-something-year-old son who had fried his brain on drugs when he was younger. The Bishop had gone to visit and realized they had no heat, cooking stove or even a shower. He arranged for our nearly blind neighbor Brother R to help install the wood stove and shower in exchange for Jean and her son to help Brother R with his yard. They became fast friends, and considered Brother R more than a neighbor. He was more like a dad and grandpa to these two people.

But when I was assigned to be her visiting teacher, my companion and I didn't much look forward to visiting her. Her very sad house also housed two crazy dogs who thought they needed to jump on us the whole time and breathe in our faces. The rottweiler who lived by the front door nearly scared us spitless. But we persisted. It was always a challenge to our hearts and courage to even get to the door, yet alone knock.

One day after a very harrowing visit, my companion said, I don't think she wants us to come. So she talked to the RS President and asked her to take Jean off our list. A few days later, I saw Jean on Mr. R's porch. She hollered over to me that she would be home on Tuesday if we wanted to come visit. I told her that I thought I'd heard we had gotten new routes. A look of panic crossed her face as she asked who her new Visiting Teacher would be. She said she wanted me to stay. I said I'd check. When I called, I asked the RS President to change me back to Jean. I received a new companion and we continued to visit Jean.

We continued to visit and admire her tiny flower and rock garden in front of her house. One day she showed up at my house when I was gone. She had brought a plant she had potted from her flower garden and had given it to my husband to give to me, explaining what it was. He was in awe when I got home. He expressed that act of bringing me a flower was like getting a deer to eat out of my hand. He was right. She didn't do those kind of things often, but I was the grateful recipient of this rare gift.

One day I received a call from someone who identified herself as the head of the hospice workers. She told me that Jean had recently been hospitalized and upon release had been given a necklace that allowed her to call for help and Jean wanted me to know. The hospice lady explained that I was the ONLY one she would allow to tell this information to. She thought I ought to know. So we continued to visit this brave lady as she developed lumps all over her body. She was wracked with pain and eventually succumbed to breast cancer.

My point to this whole story is this: The crossing of paths is not mere happenstance. There is no such thing a coincidence. If we look for it, we will find reasons our lives are blessed with knowing others. They don't have to be neighbors, they can be located clear across the world. One can meet them in the airport or online, it doesn't matter, what matters is what you do with those meetings.

My life has been blessed and is richer having known Jean, just as my life is richer for having my sweet Swiss friend. I consider myself to be a much better person because of who I know. It is what I do with that knowledge that will help me to grow even better. Each day in my daily prayers, I pray for experiences to help me to better serve Him. I truly believe that he put us here on earth to be each other's guardian angels. If we listen, we will be allowed to act on those promptings and not only bless another's life, but our own in the process.
Its really not who you know, but how you treat who you know.

Dealing with Death

January 22, 2008

In the past month three acquaintances have died. The one right before Christmas was a fairly young man, maybe 50, had a heart problem. He had never been married, his sister and parents had preceded him in death. His brother, the only living relative, paid for his funeral with his credit card. The deceased was well known in the valley because he conducted an orchestra. This was basically his life, even though he didn’t earn much money. It had been founded by him and his dad, and he took great pride in this. The amount of people who showed up to the memorial was a fairly great number. I couldn’t attend this one, but heard about it. It made me sad that he had no family, but in reality, his family was his orchestra and the community.

The second one happened on Christmas day. An even younger man, in his late 20's just had a blood clot burst in his head and he died instantly. His wife was in the back seat of the car with the baby. They had stopped at a stop sign and when he died, his foot pushed on the accelerator and the car ran into a fence. His wife had to crawl over the seat and stop the car. She has a baby son and is pregnant with their second child. I mourned for the young mother who is my daughter’s age having to face life without her sweet husband. They lived in Japan and were serving in the military. Both sets of parents decided to bury him in his wife’s hometown, because they felt she needed to be near his grave. I felt so sad to think about losing your husband at such a young time in your life. I was sad he HAD a family that was left behind. I live in fear that my husband will be the first to be “called home” and I will be the one left behind.
In Memory of Steve
The last one happened today. He is a relative of a Mexican immigrant helper of my mother’s. This is also a very young man who had a wife and four children, the youngest being 10 years old. He was 40 and had cancer. He fought courageously and was sure he would overcome this. He died in another state, seeking treatment. He had a procedure which he claimed had made him feel much better, and everyone was optimistic he would conquer this. Suddenly without warning he was dead. My mother and I went to his sister’s house to give our condolences. It is a three-bedroom trailer house. At one time, I counted 60 people all crammed into this small house. When the wife, niece and brother arrived from the airport I found out there were more in the two back bedrooms, so I am estimating around 75 people were gathered. I have been to Mexican gatherings and the sound can be overwhelming. They are happy people, the visiting, music and laughter can reach very high decibels. But in this tiny trailer house tonight, I could hear when the refrigerator turned on and off. Not a soul made a sound except for the occasional sob or sniff. The feeling was more of a reverence and sorrow. The children who spoke in whispers were admonished by their mothers. Then when the wife arrived, she went into the bedroom where the deceased’s mother was trying to take a nap. The sobs produced from that bedroom were so heart-wrenching, that I even began to cry, and I had never met this man. I was touched by the support given to this family in their hour of need. I was amazed how families who arrived brought cases of bottled water and pop to add to the already growing stacks around the floor. They sat and stood in quiet reverence and sorrow for the entire 2 ½ hours my mother and I were there. They were already gathered when we arrived, and were still there when we left at 10:00 pm. The support given to this mourning family by friends and family was so overwhelming. The newly arriving people would come and hug the sister, then find a place to stand. No one said a word, no one did a thing, everyone just sat and stared, lost in their own thoughts and memories.

I have never experienced such a gathering in my entire life. Usually it turns into a reunion of sorts. Old acquaintances usually begin to talk and reminisce. The sorrow is so great that, at least in my culture, we feel a necessity to lighten things by changing the subject, cracking a joke, or somehow filling in the silence. Not so with this group.

I don’t know what to say about this. My mother wondered if she should come back tomorrow because she was invited. She brought a sweet sympathy card with two $50 bills inside. I asked her what else she could do? They have a little under 100 people already there lending support. The fact that she showed up tonight was appreciated, I’m sure. She will attend the funeral. She will continue to visit them as she has in the past. And in the end, I was sorry for this family left behind, but I have hope for the little widow. With that many people surrounding her at this point, I have hope that they will continue to lend support, love and help for as long as she needs it. I was sad for this young widow as well, but feel like she will be OK. I am amazed at the difference in our cultures.

We Americans live a busy life. When someone dies, we come to the viewing and funeral, if we can fit it into our busy schedule. But we don’t spend an entire day, gathered in the grieving home. We visit, give our love, deliver our gift of flowers, a card or maybe money or food and talk a bit, but when the next family comes to offer condolences, we excuse ourselves and go back to our own lives.

I guess I have never been involved this closely in any other culture’s funeral. It made me stop and think that it probably is NOT done like we do it in the rest of the world. I have a new respect for these people, and this has given me pause to think. That’s all. Nothing profound, just another experience I thought worth writing down and sharing.

In Memory of Raul

Contemplating my slipperszzzzzzzzzZZZZ

I can't remember when exactly it was that I announced my son was engaged and they had upped the wedding to October from the original plan of June of next year, and I began to sew a dress for the little bride, but it seems like a huge long time ago. I could check back in my blogs, but that would mean saving this and finding my way back out and back into this post, and that could spell disaster, since I get distracted way too easily.

So anyway, he re-met her in July, he had known of her for years as her cousin was his best friend and I think it was August he announced the marriage, and maybe September he announced the change of dates and asked me to make her dress, about two months ago. But since that announcement, my world has been turned upside down with trying to meet deadlines.

Now since all the hoopla is finally over, I am exhausted. My body tried to pull a fast one on me and come down with a cold last week at their reception, but a great trick from DIL-1 worked. Take 2 Mucinex (I use the WM house brand) every four hours along with Sudafed PE. I guess the Mucinex breaks up any mucus, and the Sudafed dries it up. You still have other symptoms, like headache and scratchy throat and extreme tiredness, but you can keep going, especially when you add Excedrin to the mix.
So this last week as I have tried to fight off the cold and continue to get ready for our reception, I continued to make sheet cakes (I made 5 of them and we only used two or three), clean the house, change bed sheets, etc. etc. etc.

The Saturday reception came off without a hitch, thanks to DIL-3's family and my own pitching in to decorate the Cultural Hall, and help with set up and clean up. We got to bed around midnight, I think. Sunday after Church, we came home and my sweetheart made two casseroles from the dutch oven left overs he had made for the crowd the day before. Yes I know, I have the best husband in the WORLD who sweetly cooks for the crowds. I had to conduct our Women's Relief Society meeting on Sunday (being in a counselor in the Presidency~makes me have to do such things) and was gone while everyone else went home.

We all had a delicious dinner and two of the remaining couples (D2 and S3 and spouses) left, and we continued to visit with D2 and her sweetheart until around 5. They looked at the clock and realized it was time to get back as well.

As soon as they left, I turned on the news, because my choir director, Sterling Poulson on Channel 2 does the weekend weather. He is such a very nice man and is married to such a darling lady, Danette who is a Dear Friend to me, and sits by me in choir. So I try watch him. It's always fun because usually when he slips in references to our town, which I have noticed other stations don't even put on their map with a temperature next to it, and sometimes blatantly says stuff that I know refers to me. One time he said on the weather: "And down here in (name of my town) where (my name and my husband's name) live, the temperature is 55 degrees. He has made reference to my town many times, especially for Tuesday when I come up 2 1/2 hours drive to practice in the choir. He will say something like "Now, if you are going to be driving from (my town) today, watch for the rain clouds which will be forming around 4 pm. So drive safely."


Anyway I eased into my lazy-boy, put my feet up and snuggled in. Sweet Friend brought me a blanket and tucked me in, and I warned him that was a dangerous thing to do. Next thing I knew I was out. I think I slept for 3 hours while "watching" TV. My Dear Friend is the one who invented the quote which I used to name this post. She described the hard work her husband had been putting in, and said that Sunday he just collapsed, completely exhausted into his easy chair, and spent the afternoon contemplating his slippers. I cannot think of a better way to put it. ha ha ha ha

Monday was clean-up day. I washed bedsheets, towels, dishes, cleaned etc. etc, Again! Don't you hate when you work all week for company and just after they leave, you have to do it all over again? Even the leaves I raked, mowed and blew with the leaf blower have somehow showed up again. Of course I am not surprised, my neighbor's huge Poplar trees (about 100 feet high) like to hold onto their leaves until the coldest ice and strongest wind forces them off. And so the raking is not just a Saturday afternoon thing, it is an "all Fall" event.

So if you haven't heard from me in a while, this is why. I am just exhausted.

But there is no rest for the wicked, and the righteous don't need it, as my husband is fond of saying. I have a Relief Society Homemaking event on Wednesday which I will make a pot of soup for, and give the rest of the wedding cake to. I have Thanksgiving coming. We will have S2 and family come, so I want to put up the Christmas tree and have presents for the children under there. And I have a concert on my Birthday December 1. After that Christmas is well on its way, and the person whose name I drew probably won't get a completed quilt, like last year and the year before went. But thankfully my understanding children know me and forgive. Last year, the person I drew the year before got theirs, and the current person got a top which I have to finish. They have to develop patience when it comes to my procrastination, I think. Thank you children.

And so life continues. You haven't heard from me in a while because I have been busy, and true to the schedule, it is Tuesday and time to head to choir practice.
I hope you are all having a very nice day.
a

Z is for Zoe

blogger's note: I don't know if I will do the ABC blog like everyone else seems to be doing. But this title seemed very appropriate, and besides, I chose one of the hardest letters to start with. Funny, my name starts with an A and hers with a Z.

Zoe
My best friend, growing up was Zoe. She was that perfect friend, that you love so much, because she is so kind, beautiful, sweet, and has the most musical voice in the world. Even her laugh is like a song.
We were inseparable from the time we met, when we were 5. Our birthdays are only two weeks and a few days apart. We were pretty much the same size, and could wear each other's clothes. We grew up attending a tiny 4 room, 8 grade country school that had those old-fashioned desks on runners with the ink holes.
Our Principal, Mr. Gauthier was the 7th and 8th grade teacher. We had a hot lunch room in the basement. Mrs. Lolis was our cook and made delicious meals, except for the cheese which gave me the shudders and I would stuff into my milk carton (we had to clean our plates) so I could go to recess.

Mr. Gauthier (pronounced Goat ee ay), taught us about soccer, long before the nation had ever thought of playing it here in the US. He sponsored a kite-building/flying day one time. We always had a baseball game going on.

He used to teach Zoe how to do tricks on the high bar. I didn't have the nerve to do these things, but she got so she could swing from her knees so high that she could come up parallel to the ground, her face facing the ground and then let go with her knees and land on her feet. Later Mr. Gauthier moved to the Jr. High, and he formed an after-school gymnastics group which we belonged to, and we learned things on the mat and horse. Zoe was always better and could do beautiful walk-overs and flips.
We always tried to choose our desks near each other, in every grade. I remember 4th grade, Mrs. Heffley caught us giggling and not doing our math. She sent us to the Principal, which happened to be the 7th and 8th Graders room, because that is what he taught. We had to write our times tables (1 to 12) on the board in front of the 7th and 8th Graders. That was horrifying. We LEARNED our times tables overnight, and never had another problem with them.

We played hopscotch and jump rope most of the recesses. One time when we were in 2nd grade, a girl was visiting Zoe from the city. She and Zoe were turning the rope when I came out. I asked if I could play, the city girl said NO. I turned around and went back into the school room, saddened by this. Zoe dropped the rope, leaving CityGirl to stand with the limp rope in her hands, and hurried to my side. I was surprised half-way across the 1st and 2nd grade room to have her arm around me, hurrying me towards the bathroom and whispering in my ear, "just blink fast, and the tears won't come." This is an example of her kindness.

Zoe lived one mile west of the school, and I lived one mile east of the school. We walked to school, and on Fridays, we usually took turns going to each other's houses and spending the night.

I loved going to her house, for many reasons, but one was that she had this wonderful box of dress up clothes. She also had a swimming hole with a diving board. It was a pond, and it seemed pretty deep, but I have no idea. It was located way out back of her house, near the chicken house. I remember finding a rotten egg and throwing it at the chicken house and both of us being really sorry we did that.

Another reason was her cousin, Analou, who sometimes visited. She was much older and she used to tell us these amazing epic stories. I wonder if she ever wrote these great stories down. They would have made a wonderful book.

Her father was an amazing pianist. They had two pianos! A Grand piano was in the sun room, and an upright was in the living room. He would play that piano, and I was so amazed. He was very strict, and we all had to be proper at the table, not speaking while eating, and using cloth napkins. Once, her older brother, catapulted a pea with his fork, when his dad wasn't looking while he was dishing us all up. We all had to bite our lips to keep from laughing. We had to ask to be excused at the end of the meal, and stack our dishes at the sink. Their family was so amazing. Her older sister could have been her twin. Both had thick brown hair plaited into two beautiful braids that went clear down their backs, and the most beautiful sparkly hazel blue eyes and those musical voices. I always wanted to be just like her. She had two younger brothers as well who were really nice kids and great teases. Her mom was so beautiful. She went prematurely gray at age 20. The girls got their beauty from their mother. She was a very elegant woman, and I always hoped I would grow up to be like her.

When Zoe came to my house, we usually would play Barbies. Once our Barbies were flying, in the Super-Man position, hands extended, horizontal, and in some sort of rush to get there (where? I don't know). We grabbed the weight-bearing pole in the middle of the room with one hand, and the doll was in the other hand, and run as fast as we could, hanging onto the pole and going round and round. Each round represented a mile. So her doll was about 3 miles ahead. There was no way to overtake and pass her, since she was in front of me. We were "flying" for about 30 or 40 miles, and for some reason, my foot and hers got entangled, and I tripped. I went down and as I hit the linoleum-covered concrete floor, I saw my brand new permanent front tooth fly out ahead of me across the floor.

Mom was baking bread and grabbed us both and hurried us to the dentist, about 5 miles away. A police man stopped her and she was crying, telling him her bread was baking in the oven and I had broken my tooth. He let her go.
I don't remember what happened to the bread, or Zoe, but I ended up with a temporary cap, which proceeded to fall off the rest of my life. I would then have this snaggly look, so I wouldn't talk or smile whenever I was waiting for a new cap to be made and put on. I remember Dr. Pyle greeted us and his face just fell when he saw my broken tooth. He had always commented on my beautiful teeth. In my 4th grade picture, I am not smiling. I couldn't eat Black Cow suckers any more.

I remember one sad day in about 4th or 5th grade, Zoe pulled me aside and told me that her parents were getting a divorce. That word was almost unheard of, and we were heart broken. We remained friends, of course until we got to Jr. High. Then we were separated by classes and a different circle of friends, for the rest of our school careers. This always made me sad, but I didn't know how to change it.

We have kept in touch on and off in our adult lives. She and I found the same Church and joined it somewhere along our way, and discovered that fact later. She still has her childhood phone number, I know it by heart. I should call her more often, no excuses. Her voice is still musical, her hair has gone to a beautiful salt and pepper gray, her eyes a sparkly hazel blue and she is still as beautiful as ever. She says she LOVES being her age. She always has such a positive attitude. She is still that perfect person I look up to. She has married the PERFECT man for her and had two beautiful children, a boy and a girl. Her husband is as kind and good as she is.

I imagine, that even though we are separated by miles on this earth, that we are still connected, in kind of an "honorary sister" way, and in Heaven we will be with-in walking distance of one another. Still one the very best friends I have ever had.

I hope one of my children names a daughter after her. I love that name.