Like the circles that you find In the wallpaper of your mind...

So my sister who is an artist and a writer had an interesting phrase in her blog that I am going to explore further in this post. She was talking about how there were many phrases that were part of the wallpaper of her life. I also have life wallpaper but it is divided into different rooms: the wallpaper of my childhood, the wallpaper of my children's childhood, my current wallpaper.

I used to love wallpaper and have had it in all of my houses except the one I live in now. One reason I don't have any now is that I have those stupid textured walls which don't really look good with wallpaper on them. In addition, my love of wallpaper seems to have waned. Maybe it is because I have had to strip too much of it in my life (see previous post). Or, maybe it is because it is out of fashion. No, that couldn't be it because I refuse to follow fashion trends. ("Karen, don't be a slave to fashion" --name that obscure reference!) Anyway, I don't need wallpaper in my house because I have it in my mind.

The wallpaper of my childhood is vivid and hasn't faded with age. It probably should have, but it hasn't. It includes such items as Cowboy, my rocking/bouncing horse. I spent many hours on Cowboy singing and rocking. "Pony Boy" and "Buffalo Girls" were two of my favorite songs to sing while Cowboy and I rode through the wild west. He went to live at Aunt Lillie's store when he lost his bounce (and his tail because I sat on it instead of in the saddle when I got bigger) and then, when she closed her store, he lived in my garage until he completely fell apart and I had to take him to the dump. No matter, he is as peppy and fun as ever on the wallpaper.

Another thing on my childhood wallpaper is the metal headboard on the bed in the "girl's room" at Grandma Dena/Aunt Lillie's house. If you sat against it, it would bend in and then when you got up, it popped back out, making a sound that I will never forget. Can sounds be on wallpaper? In my childhood room with wallpaper they can. There was the hobnail pin-up lamp above the bed with the frilly white shade that I turned on for looking at picture books before going to sleep. And the flannel blankets on the bed with the crisply ironed clean-smelling sheets. (I guess smells are included as well.) All of these are on my wallpaper.

Then there are 3 shady trees down a dirt road near a farmhouse on the wallpaper. There are lambs without mothers who need to be fed with warm milk from giant Coke bottles with big black nipples on them. There are "Whees" (bumps in the road) on the way to Grandma's house. There is the smell of bacon and eggs, bread and pies, alfalfa and manure. The wallpaper is colorful, filled with quilts, fabrics, and bottled fruits and vegetables. Gardens of beautiful flowers lovingly cared for by grandparents fill the background.

There are also adventures on my childhood wallpaper. Family trips and moving to "exotic" places like Brentwood, CA and Andover, MA. There is a mansion with a swimming pool, beautiful grounds, an apartment over the multi-car garage, a laundry building, a pugoo in the drape, 2 huge German shepherds, and an electric gate across the entrance. There are tree-lined streets with a beautiful old church and cemetery at the end of the block.

My childhood wallpaper has only begun to be described but I shall have to move on to my young adulthood wallpaper in my next post. Stay tuned...

Shredding...and I don't mean paper

So Gary and I have finally gotten serious about dieting and exercise. We have made it 1 whole week! I don't know what made us do it but the time was just right somehow. Anyway, we are doing the famous Susan Hinckley diet which is working out well for us because it is easy to track and Gary has lost 6 pounds! (I'm not going to tell you how much I lost because I might start crying again.) We aren't hungry even though we still want to eat all sorts of bad things. That is the hardest part because eating had become such a part of our evening routine. Of course weight loss is all about forming new habits and routines.

As for the exercise, we are doing the Jillian Michael's 30 Day Shred video.Yes, it's true! Gary and I doing an exercise video! It is a good thing we can do it in the privacy of our own bedroom because it is pretty frightening to see. I have done 7 days and Gary has done 6. It is getting easier but I don't know that we will ever be ready to move to level 2. We are still grunting and groaning all the way through but we are doing it. I already have some arm muscles and Gary is feeling and sleeping better. I am not sleeping better but that's another story...anyway...I hope you will recognize us when you see us!

And now, a cheer...
We love shredding, yes we do!
We feel shredded, how about you?

Doing is Much Easier than Undoing

Last week I came to the conclusion that there are many things in life which are much easier to do than to undo. One such thing is wallpaper. I spent the week helping my best friend remove wallpaper from her kitchen and bathroom. When she put it up (17 years ago) it went on quite easily especially since she paid someone to do it and it hid the nail heads that were beginning to pop on the wallboard seams.

My Grandpa Clarence used to put up wallpaper as a young man. I remember him doing the paper in the music room at our home on Circle Way as a not-so-young man. It was fascinating to watch. It didn’t look too hard, maybe a little awkward maneuvering the long pieces and making sure they were straight but not particularly difficult.

Removing wallpaper is another thing altogether. While I do not share my sister’s view that wallpaper should be against the law or that people who put it up should be shot, I do agree that anyone who is considering putting up wallpaper should be required to spend a day removing it before they are allowed to put it up. It is a nightmare to remove.

We started in the bathroom. It was a vinyl coated paper and once started, the top layer came off quite neatly in complete sheets. The paper layer beneath it was fairly easy to remove with a diluted solution of DIF and a putty knife. For one thing, the paper layer was cream colored and the wall beneath was white so it was easy to see where the paper had not been removed. Once we finished the bathroom we were feeling pretty good about the prospects of completing most of the rest of the task. Then we moved to the kitchen…

The wallpaper in the kitchen was not vinyl coated and the paper layer under the top layer was white (the same color as the wall) and impossible to see. The top layer did not come off in nice sheets but was removed in pieces resembling carrots—some large carrots but a lot of baby carrots. There was great celebration when a piece the size of notebook paper came off but that was rare. It required a lot of scoring, steaming, soaking, and scraping much to the detriment of the wallboard beneath. She would probably have been better off just to put up new wallboard over the wallpaper since what is left will require so much repair work that is it hardly worth it. If you didn’t know better you would think that someone had committed a random act of vandalism in the kitchen. In fact, spray paint could only improve the look.

Fortunately she does not plan to do the repainting herself but will hire someone to repair our vandalism, paint it and make it look beautiful once again.

Here are a few other things that are much easier to do than to undo: marriages, childhood, bad habits (or any kind of habit for that matter), a dirty house, a cold or flu, and sewing. I guess the most obvious thing that belongs on the list is sin. That’s one that requires you to “hire” someone to repair it and make it look beautiful again.

Creative Jobs

In an effort to be more literate, I have been doing some reading. I just finished A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court by Mark Twain. I had never read it and only seen the movie. There were several interesting things in it that made me think--the sure sign of good literature. Mark Twain, never one to be shy with his opinions, was vocal in his dislike of organized religion, the English feudal system, and monarchies to name a few things.

In talking about work he stated that those who do "creative" jobs (artists, musicians, architects, etc.) do not need to be paid because their payment is in the creating. Not that they shouldn't necessarily be paid but that they would do the job anyway without payment because of the enjoyment and need to create. I can see that in the lives of my siblings. Susan would create with or without payment and in fact, figuring out how to get paid is the worst part of the process and she would love to live without it if she could. Same goes for Steve. He could no more stop being involved in music than he could stop breathing, weather or not he was being paid. I guess that's the difference between true "artists" and those who like to dabble.

So, here's to the artists in my family and everywhere. Thanks for the beauty!

Attempted Social Interaction

Anyone who knows me knows that I am not really a social creature. I have a lot of Grandma Myrl in me. Dad always said that his mother loved her family fiercely and enjoyed spending time with them but as far as other people went, she could do with out them in general. That's pretty much how I behave. I don't know that I really feel that way but I certainly act that way. And it is not a good way to be. Not that I have anything against Grandma Myrl, but I have always longed to have friends and be just a little social. So, after attending Mom and Dad's family home evening group that they have with some empty-nesters in their ward once a month, I thought maybe we could try it in our ward.

Our ward is very young so there are not many empty-nesters. We sent out 10 invitations (that's all the active old people). Two of the couples that we hoped would come had conflicts and could not come. We heard back from two other couples and no one else. So, last night we had our first family home evening group with two couples in the ward. Both of these couples are significantly older than we are. One of the men graduated from East High in 1956, the year after I was born. The other couple was saying that their youngest child just turned 40. Neither of them like to come out after dark but fortunately it is summer so it was still light.

After about 10 minutes, one of the couples got a phone call and had to leave. Was that pre-arranged? (I'm only a little paranoid when it comes to social things.) So it was just the four of us. We had a short lesson that Gary and I each gave part of and some refreshments (of course, we made enough for 20 people). We chatted a bit and that was it.

I guess we will try again next month and see how it goes. If nothing else, it gives me a good reason to clean the house once a month!

It's All in the Genes

So my sister, Susan reminded me that my dad is very proficient at BH (previous post) but the difference with him is that he is so convincing that you absolutely believe what he is telling you is the truth. It has only been in my later adulthood that I began to suspect that it was really BH.

One certain way I knew that he was a great salesman (and pretty good at convincing people he knows about things that he in fact does not) was that he was made CFO of the company he worked for. I guess I can't say that he knows nothing about finances but he does more or less ignore finances and hope they go away. Fortunately, mom is very good at finances and enjoys doing it so it works out for them. While the CFO thing didn't last very long, it was quite impressive.

One of my favorite stories about dad and his BH happened when he was on a trip with my brother, Steve and his lifelong friend Kline. I should let Steve tell the story because he was there and is a much better story teller than I am and I don't really know the story all that well but... here goes. It was early in the morning and they were all laying in bed before getting up (or it could have been late at night before they went to sleep, I'm not sure) and dad started telling them about something unique and indigenous to the area and going on and on about it with all sorts of scientific names and after a few minutes Kline said "Meredith, you are so full of BH and someday I am going to be able to prove it"!

Someday maybe someone will prove it. That will be a sad day for all of us who have believed his BH for so many years.

There are limits...

Yesterday I found I had reached my limit. I knew I had all sorts of limits such as physical strength, musical abilities (conducting the Messiah), and intellect but I had never hit my BS limit (or BH for bull honkey as the girls called it when they were young). Since I have spent 20 years (and several years before that in school) writing a great deal about topics that I don’t really know anything about, I thought that perhaps my capacity for BH was unlimited. It isn’t.

I had to do a training topic on entering an expense report in the system at work. I had a copy of the topic that was pretty close to correct to use as a guide. By about 3 p.m. I was completely lost. I had reached my limit. It didn’t help that at about 1 p.m. my application crashed and I lost the entire morning’s worth of work so I had to start over. This application is a little flakey and you have to save often which I had forgotten having not used it for a while. After I went to the Ladies Room and cried I came back and bravely started over. I recaptured my work fairly quickly. Then I hit the wall.

I persevered in my very best BH fashion, but by 9 p.m. I was mentally (and physically) exhausted so I headed home not having finished and not convinced I could finish. It was disheartening to realize that even my capacity for BH upon which I have built a career has its limits.

I headed to work early today determined to conquer or die trying. I am proud to say that I did send off a complete topic of BH to be reviewed. I believe it will be ripped to shreds by the reviewers but at least I finished it. I guess we can add Queen of BH to my other title of Funk Master!

Save the Quilts (whales are on their own...)

Recently when my mom and dad came to visit we spent an afternoon "bummin' " (as mom calls it) around some antique stores. I have been very good about not acquiring any more "junk" (as everyone in my family calls it) since I did the giant giveaway of everything that won't fit in my tragically small house.

In fact, I think I have only bought one antique since then and it was on a trip with my mom and dad. It was a really good thing however and I had to have it as you can see!

Obviously I need to stay away from them because while we were bummin', I saw a lot of things that I wanted to buy but I was very good and didn't buy any of them except for this one quilt. I don't know why I couldn't pass it up. I passed up so many other wonderful and beautiful things. Maybe it was that the backing was an old flannel blanket that reminded me of the blankets that used to be on the twin beds in the American Fork house (see previous post). Maybe it was because there were some incredibly cool fabrics in it and also some incredibly ugly ones. Maybe it was because it was so dirty and falling apart that I just wanted to wash its face and wipe its runny nose.

For whatever reason, I took it home. Gary was appalled by how dirty it was and told me I couldn't sit on the bed to work on it because he didn't want to get cooties. He was certain I would get lock jaw or some dreadful disease from it. And I may have if I hadn't found the giant rusty open safety pin that was sewn inside it before I stepped on it. But, I sewed up all the holes and even made him help me inspect it to make sure I got all of them. Then I put it in the tub to wash it.

OK, the first wash cycle was absolutely disgusting! The water was the color of "brown juice" (a family color produced when you mix all the leftover juice/kool-aid drinks together in one pitcher in the fridge). There was actual dirt residue left on the bottom of the tub. The second wash cycle was definitely better but still very colored with a little less residue.The third cycle was much better and the two rinses were almost clear. Of course it has many stains but it has definitely been given a new life and you could actually use it without fear of disease. Even Gary agreed that it didn't smell too much anymore. So I guess it has found a home in my stack of old quilts. Please just keep me from bringing home any more strays!

The Empty Nest

Since we have lived in this house (about 5 years now) we have had several sets of birds attempt to nest on or near our house. The hummingbirds in the bush by our front door were successful once and we had 3 baby hummingbirds grow to maturity. The doves that tried 3 times were never successful. They built a "nest" on a small cap on one of our front porch pillars. The "nest" they built was maybe 10 sticks randomly placed on the cap. It obviously was not sufficient to hold the eggs on the cap and they rolled off onto the porch every time. Finally we put something on the cap to keep them from building there so they tried a different cap with the same result. I felt bad for the dove parents but also could not believe how stupid they were.

This year, different birds (we think they may be cardinals although not red) built an actual nest (nest shaped with all sorts of stuff holding it together) on one of the caps and successfully raised 4 baby birds. There were several interesting things about watching it happen from day to day.

First, the mother made a clicking noise when she approached with food and the babies heads popped up with beaks wide open at the sound. Our front door makes a similar noise when it opens so when we opened the door, the heads also popped up beaks open every time. They had amazing instincts.

Second, the mother was very protective (as all mothers are) and made different sounds when we were out and about to warn the babies to stay down in the nest and they did. She also dived at us if we got too close. It was the one time I wished I could talk to animals to explain to the mother that we would not harm the babies and that we lived there too.

Third, the babies were hatched, fed, grew and flew away all within a matter of about 3 weeks! They were literally bigger everyday and were gone before we knew it. They hung around the yard for a few days after they left the nest but then they were gone and all we have left is the nest (and massive amounts of poop).

I guess it made me think about my own empty nest and how quickly my 4 beautiful babies were gone. I guess I am still coming to grips with being an empty nester. There are definitely times when I long to hear the house filled with children's voices, help with homework, do laundry so there are clothes for school, and call everyone in from play for dinner. Unfortunately during those brief years it didn't seem so enjoyable most of the time. More often than not I felt like the nervous mother bird just trying to keep the babies safe, keep them fed and keep intruders away. I rarely enjoyed the growing, fun, and happiness that happened in the nest. And as all mothers do, I hope my girls will be better at this than I was.

Wait! Hold the bulldozer!

It may not be time to bring in the bulldozer and close the landfill. I'm not sure. I may have more to contribute. This certainly belongs in a landfill which is where my wallet will probably end up after it was taken from my purse on Saturday while it was still on my shoulder. By the time I noticed it (as I was attempting to pay for a cart-full of stuff at Wal-Mart with angry customers in line behind me) they had already maxed out all of my credit cards.

The thing about it is that, if you are like me anyway, you can't really remember everything that was in your wallet. And you don't have all the store credit card numbers recorded anywhere because you are stupid. So you hope you cancelled everything. And you are without any sort of credit or debit cards for the next 2 weeks. Try it sometime. It isn't easy to work strictly in cash.

And for an update on my broken toe...it is still not healed. I am on the 4th set of "it usually takes about 6 weeks to heal." I think the doctor must have meant 6 months. At least it doesn't hurt anymore.

And finally, you may wonder why I am posting now. Well, it is 2:40 a.m. and I woke up with a bad dream and can't go back to sleep. And all the ads on TV are about male enhancement! UGH! I don't seem to be doing very well of late in so many ways... Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day. Let's see, I have to go to a shrink appointment and to go visiting teaching and to go to the credit union to make a statement about my wallet being stolen and to talk to the police and do a full day at the office. Yes, it's bound to be a good day, don't you think?

My New Name

I have a new nickname. It seems that Sara Jane and the kids were at a furniture store. While they were there, Zach found an interesting looking sofa. He called Sara Jane over and said he thought it would go in my house. Sara Jane said it would because it was kind of funky. Madison piped up and said, "Yes because Grandma is the Funk Master." So there you have it, I am officially the Funk Master! Watch for more funky stuff coming soon.

Slow, Slower, Slowest

So Susan is trying to beat me to the American Fork blogging. I can’t blame her. Obviously I am being very slow at it. Maybe it is my broken toe that is slowing me down. The doctor asked me on Friday if it had slowed me down and I said no. I didn’t say that my normal pace is so slow that if I slowed down I would be at a complete stop. Maybe I am at a complete stop. Well, I knew the blogging thing would be tricky for me because I spend all day typing on a computer and the last thing I want to do when I get home is type on the computer. So, my American Fork installments will be slow incoming and probably not worth waiting for. In fact, I may lose all interest in the entire project and just close the landfill.

Angst Definitely Belongs in the Landfill

So, Abi asked me why I was making a floor plan of the American Fork house. I told her it is because I am going to use it in my blog to talk about my childhood. It was a very important part of my childhood. Abi said she doesn't have many childhood memories. My other children don’t either as a rule. I have childhood memories—lots of them. And I have a great deal of angst that seems to be centered in my childhood.

Here are some definitions of angst:

• A feeling of dread, anxiety, anguish or apprehension often accompanied by depression.
• A kind of fear or anxiety; Angst is German for “fear.” It is usually applied to a deep and essentially philosophical anxiety about the world in general or personal freedom. (See existentialism.)

So, why do I have so much angst about my childhood (which has obviously been accompanied by depression) and anxiety about the world in general? I think this is probably a question that if it were answered could explain all of my problems in life. My children have no angst about their childhoods (with the possible exception of Amanda). They don’t even have memories—an issue for another discussion.

So, in an effort to rid myself of this angst, I plan to put into writing in my blog many childhood memories (good and bad) to see if the sheer effort of writing them down will allow them to stop plaguing me. I’m sorry you will have to be a part of this process (should you continue to read my blog that is).

And I apologize in advance to anyone (living or dead) I may offend in my memoirs. Just remember, it is a landfill and will eventually be bulldozed under.

Oh No (OH NO) I Broke My Toe (I BROKE MY TOE)

So last night I stubbed my toe on the end of the bed (not for the first time of course) and actually heard it crack. Gary heard it too. It was loud. It was sort of sticking out at a weird angle. I figured it was broken. And being a House fan I figured I better have it checked out just to make sure that the marrow wasn't leaking out and going to cause someone to have to bore a hole in my skull to relieve the pressure building up in my brain from pooling blood.

I was right. It is broken but nothing is leaking so that is good. I have to keep it wrapped and wear one of those really cute surgery boot things. The boot is ugly but it does make it so I can walk without wincing which is very good. The top of my foot it a lovely shade of aqua and my foot is swollen but the doctor said it should be gone within 6 weeks or so. No problem. I guess that walking around the zoo with Abi and Zane and Lily tomorrow isn't going to happen. Oh well...

Hi Ho, Hi Ho, It's Back to Work I Go!

I started back to work on Tuesday. My first day back lasted 2 hours. During that time I cleaned my cubical and put up some pictures, put all my stuff in the drawers, and had my picture taken for my badge. Then I sketched some floor plans of the American Fork house that I am planning to use in an upcoming blog post. Even though they had put off my coming back for a week so they could get everything ready for me, nothing was ready. I didn't have a chair. I didn't have a computer. I finally just asked if I could go home and my boss said go. Not a very auspicious beginning.

I still don't have a computer even though I did manage to stay a full 8 hours today doing a few things for some other people and looking over existing process maps to get a handle on the processes I will be working on. I probably won't have a computer tomorrow either. It always seems to be like this at the beginning of a contract no matter how long they have to prepare for me to start. One interesting piece of news is that the project is scheduled to be completed in December so I will probably be at the job through the end of the year again. Yeah!

One other thing about going back to work that made me happy was that everyone seemed genuinely pleased to have me back. Even people I didn't work that closely with greeted me enthusiastically. Other people that I was newly introduced to said "Oh, you're the Lisa I've heard so much about"! It was quite a rush and I can always use some encouragement in the inter-personal skills department. So, at least for the first two days, it's good to be back to work. No guarantees about next week...

Valentine's Day Resolutions

OK, so I'm a little late with the resolution thing but I do want to declare one for this year even if it is late. I am going to have one new idea everyday this year. I have found myself thinking the same things over and over and I am sick of it! So I decided I needed some new thoughts. Most of these thoughts will probably come as I am reading scriptures because I am trying to be more diligent in thinking about what I am reading. But I hope some of the thoughts and ideas will be in the creative realm as well.

It seems that I haven't thought of a new thing in a long time let alone tried a new thing. This makes for a very dull life. My life is certainly proof of that. One thing I have done so far this year is read 2 books that I should have read long ago. I read Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights. They are both excellent by the way and within the first few pages I could see why they are classics. They draw you in and immerse you in a new world. I loved them and asked myself why I don't read more books? Because my life is dull and I don't think or do anything new. The other thing I realized in reading these books is that my vocabulary is very poor-a thing which I had not wanted to admit but had suspected for some time now. Perhaps adding words to my vocabulary will be included in the new ideas and thoughts.

I know that my sister (Susan) told me several years ago that she has so many ideas for crafts, recipes, all sorts of things that she can't even keep track of them or write them down fast enough. It was like she was speaking a foreign language to me. I could not understand it. But if you go to her blog, you will see what these ideas have become. She and I are very similar in some ways but very different in others-in the idea way at least. I know she also told me that as she does more art, she has more ideas. So that may be part of my problem. You have to use the ideas you have in order to get more. A good thing to remember in light of my Valentine's Day Resolution.

So here's to a year of new ideas. Most of them will probably end up in the landfill anyway... If you have any you would like to share with me, feel free!

Why a Landfill?

Well, when I decided to enter the blog-o-sphere I figured that most of what is out there is garbage and that my stuff should probably just be added to the landfill.

Even though they are smelly and taking over the world, I have some respect for landfills as well. For example, when we lived in California, we lived next to a community that was built on a landfill (Foster City). We went to church there and shopped there and wished we could afford to live there because it was really beautiful with waterways and great homes. Good things can grow from landfills.

Also, there are a lot of things in landfills that don't belong there. For example, in about 1969 my mom got a fabulous emerald ring for Christmas. Emerald is her birthstone and she had always wanted one so when she had her diamond reset in a new setting, she got an emerald put in the old setting for a Christmas present to her from her (as most of her presents were). She is also quite famous for cleaning up after Christmas quickly and thoroughly. By mid-afternoon she realized that she couldn't find her new ring. We looked through the trash and the ashes in the fireplace (because we burned the wrapping paper) but never found it. It made it to a landfill.

Additionally there are a lot of recyclables in landfills. I think perhaps some of what is in my blog may be recyclable. Perhaps someone can use it for something sometime.

Finally, I had a great-aunt Lillie who didn't believe in landfills, I suppose, since she never threw anything away. She kept every card and letter she ever received. She kept magazines. She did throw away newspapers but only after she had clipped out every article or ad or coupon of interest. She washed and reused aluminium foil and plastic food bags and paper plates and plastic cutlery. She kept egg cartons. She kept the styrofoam trays that meat comes on to use as dishes for cat food. I'm not sure how many cats she expected to have as there were thousands of them stacked in the back room and the ones she used for the cats were rinsed and reused and rarely thrown out. She kept string and twist ties and food scraps (for her cats). She kept empty jars of all kinds (perfume, food, ointments). Paper was always used on both sides before being thrown away. She kept basically EVERYTHING! While I loved her immensely, I did not appreciate having to go through everything she kept after she died. I maintain that she needed to have a little more respect for landfills.

With all that said, this is my landfill and I will toss all sorts of junk into it as I please. Perhaps there will be emeralds or recyclables or it may just be garbage but later something great could be built on top of it. Feel free to add to the heap! When it's full, we will bulldoze it under and use it for something else. OK?