11:18 p.m. Saturday

Well, I can't sleep. This is an unusual event for me. It is probably because I didn't do much today and I slept in really, REALLY late this morning. So, I am getting what I deserve. In any case, I have been thinking about the blog (or lack thereof) and I'm not sure what to do about it. Occasionally I have a really good idea but since I don't write them down, well...you know. And since forgetting the good ideas does not cause me to write them down when I have them, I guess I don't really care about communicating with the world at large (or with my family since they are the only ones who read this). So, I am saying farewell to blog world for now. At some point I may develop the need to put my thoughts down. If I do, I will be sure to let you know. Love to all!!

Break out the sparkling cider (or champagne if you are so inclined)

After 7 years of being a reluctant contract employee with several interesting jobs, I have joined the ranks of Prudential Real Estate and Relocation as a permanent employee! It’s official. Of course there are good things about being a contractor such as being able to take as much vacation as I want. But trade-offs must be made and since we have been praying for a job for me for 7 years and this is a pretty good job, I’m taking it. Hooray for me! I will try to get away as much as I possibly can to visit family because you are all more important to me than any job.

Miss Liberty stopped by to celebrate July. I'm looking forward to the October witch.

The card project is ongoing with some good and not-so-good results. There certainly are getting to be a lot of them. Hopefully I have some more pictures to share soon.

More Cards

OK, so I'm sure that I will have something more to talk about than cards sometime soon...

These 3 cards are 3 that I did in the class I took. You can see why I think they are a cut above what I do.





This is one I did with a cute image Amelia sent me.

Juat a few cards

OK, so I guess I am going to display a few of my cards. They are really starting to pile up. I am not sure they are getting any better. In fact, the one I made tonight may be the worst one yet. I can't quite figure out why some are better than others but I guess that is the way when you create things. Anyway, here they are.

The Challenge

So my sister, Susan, challenged the world, via her blog, to commit to doing a selected something every day for a year. She is writing a happy thought blog for her project. She described an artist who had made a doll every day for a year and then displayed them on the wall. It sounded very cool. So I was thinking about what I could make. I have been looking for something to keep me busy. The obvious choice was something with paper or fabric since I already have a large supply of both and don't use much of either. So I decided to make a card a day for a year. I thought I would make some that I could send like birthday cards, Mother's Day, etc., but Gary suggested I keep them all and then take a picture at the end of the year. That's what I am going to do. I haven't figured out how I will take the picture yet but I have time to come up with something. I may decide to show some of the better ones here. But I haven't made any better ones yet. Hopefully my skills will improve through the year as well.

Since I started (on April 15) I have been thinking about nothing else. I love having something to look forward to each day (besides my lovely job, of course). It will be a challenge as I have several trips planned for the year. I already took stuff and made cards on my weekend trip to visit the gang in southern Utah. I'm committed so wish me luck!

I still play with dolls

When I went to France on a Study Abroad program (ca 1974) I lived in a room above a patisserie and a toy store. I spent many hours looking in the windows of both. I bought many pastries from patisserie but only 2 small winter figurines from the toy store as that was all I could afford. There was a doll in the window that I really wanted and pined for every day as I passed by.

The years passed and one day when we were living in California (ca 1978) I happened to look in the toy department at Macy’s. Low and behold, there was a doll just like the one I had pined for. She was quite expensive especially for a struggling young couple. I had no reason to have such a doll. I did have a baby girl but I knew I would never let her play with the doll so I couldn’t justify it in that way. I told Gary about it and how much I had wanted that doll in France. Of course, as young husbands do, he bought her for me for Christmas that year. It was a great gift and I placed her carefully in her box in my closet. I took her out every so often to comb her hair and just look at her. Then back in the box.

Years passed again and Gary and I returned to France (ca 1980). Gary was on a business trip and I was able to go along. I couldn’t help but wander into a toy store one day to see if the doll still existed. There wasn’t one on the shelf anywhere that I could see. So I summoned all my courage and my best college French and asked. I tried my best to describe the doll. I knew the brand. After several attempts, the owner finally found what I was looking for. She was a blonde version of my brunette doll. I loved her instantly and begged to buy her. As you may know, not being very fiscally responsible, we bought her. I got her home and lovingly placed her in the box with her “sister.” Now I had two dolls to look at occasionally and who could live in my closet together.

Many, many years passed. I think I may have shown the dolls to my girls once or twice growing up but none of them remember it. I did get them out a few years ago for Madison to play with. She undressed them and combed their hair. It was the most daylight they had seen in 25 years. I considered giving them away since they only sat in my closet and I was sure someone could get more use out of them than that. I had considered several times making clothes for them. I started a nightgown once but it didn’t fit and I threw it away. About a year ago when Amanda was visiting, I asked her if she would like one. She said yes and took the blonde one home to live in her closet.

Then, something happened. I was putting out my St. Patrick’s Day decorations and found that I needed something more. I have only very few St. Patrick’s Day things and most of them are quite small. I could find nothing in any of the stores I looked in that I liked. So as I thought about it one night in bed, the thought came to me that I could make my doll into an Irish lass and display her. I already had shamrock fabric from a previous craft so I didn’t even need to go to the store. I began the next day and had a ball doing it. Here is the result.

I thought she looked so cute and I was so excited to finally display her that I decided I needed to get her sister back from Amanda so I could make her an Easter dress and display her too. I was able to use an old party favor basket from the American Fork house for her Easter Basket and I made the flower wreath for her head. Here she is. (Sorry I was an Indian giver Amanda. You can have her when I die and her outfits too if you want.)

It has made me very happy to finally be able to display my beloved dolls if only seasonally. I am already planning the Betsy Ross outfit for July. I’m sure the dolls are happy to be out of the box too!

An Unpaid Political Announcement

As you may know, I am completely apolitical. I hate politics and refuse to have anything to do with them. So, in order for me to have a comment on something political, it has to have been unavoidable and really pushed my buttons.

We have a Senator running for re-election here in Arizona. Let's call him John. He has an ad on the radio that makes me very angry and I just needed to air my grievance. The ad states that this Senator is leading the fight against the President. Since when did we elect officials to "fight" the President? To disagree with, to negotiate with, to propose to, to work with, but to fight? I am sick and tired of the complete lack of respect we have (starting at the top) for the office of the President. If our elected officials go to Washington with the attitude that they are there to fight, how can we expect any sort of useful legislation? Why can't we all just get along? And give respect where it is due even if we disagree?

OK, Here's the Deal...

Because I have been out of work since the end of December, you might think that I would be a blogging fool, but alas, I have not been so inclined for some reason. I guess I have been somewhat busy with visits to Utah and visits from Utah. In any case, I guess I may still have a few more posts in me.

So, back to wallpaper... The wallpaper of my "raising family" years is also very colorful. There is actual wallpaper that I lovingly picked out and helped to hang in all four of our homes. Easter dresses, many of which I made, are part of the wallpaper. Dancing children and school busses are there. Four sets of baby blankets and wedding dresses are found along with piles of dirty dishes and laundry. Love notes scrawled in crayon and handmade macaroni and toothpick Christmas ornaments are included. Bugs in jars on the kitchen counter and tadpoles frolic. Many giggles and much singing in the car are sprinkled throughout. Trips to Disneyland and St. George are mixed in with fun at Grandma's house and playing with cousins. Skinned knees and broken hearts can be seen if you look closely. Four happy girls (three blonds and one brunette) who have occasional squabbles are featured prominently.

This wallpaper seems to be more of a watercolor where everything runs together to form a lovely picture when viewed from a distance. This wallpaper has many sounds and smells as well and I miss all of them with increasing intensity as the years pass. This wallpaper is as permanent and enduring as all the generations that will follow me.

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.