November 19.......BIG Families

Sam and I both come from large families;  he has eight siblings and I have five.  He has 39 nieces and nephews, I have 21.  About 3/4 of his are married, a few of mine are married.  I have six "greats", he has close to eighty.  And one of our great-nieces is expecting our first GREAT GREAT granddaughter.  How cool is that?

We are spread all over the place, from California to North Carolina, and even overseas.  But, with Facebook, email and phone calls we stay it touch with most of them.  And, I love them all.  I wish we could see them more often.  But, really, there are so many of them, so spread out, that we'd have to be independently wealthy, because they're be no time for work.

The Baileys used to have family reunions until the family got so big that it became difficult to find a venue.  And, we had a couple of weddings a year for awhile.  But, now Sam's sibs try and get together every couple of years for a trip;  the last two were cruises.  It's so much fun, and we were sold on the cruise thing.  But, later when Sam and I were talking about it, I'm not sure we'd have as much fun by ourselves.  We enjoy hanging out together in the evenings and swapping stories of the days adventures.  And playing cards, of course.  The Baileys like to play cards.

My family gets together at weddings and every other Christmas.  Christmas Eve for over fifty years now, is a Mexican food buffet at Mom's with all of my Fuller cousins.  We have a little Christmas program and a big White Elephant party.  I look forward to it when we're there, to catch up with my cousins that I only see then.

I dont' know what I'd do without either family, we love them all so much. I'm glad Ry and Meg, who don't have much in the way of siblings have so many cousins that they love to be with.   Doesn't mean there isn't a minor altercation here and there, but overall, they are all so willing to laugh with us in the good times, and pray with us during the bad times.  I'm grateful the Lord gave us SO MANY of them!

A gang of Baileys....about half of them.

A gang of Elsberrys at my parents 50th anniversary.

And, a gaggle of Bailey nieces, just because they're cute.

November 18......Tender Mercies

My sister, Julie, has four delightful kids: three giant boys, and a daughter the same age as my Meg. This is a story about two of her boys, one of them going through some tough times due to some bad choices.  As these events were unfolding, I was amazed at her faith that eventually all would be well.  That didn't mean we didn't cry a lot. We're Elsberrys after all, we cry...."emotional incontinence" my friend calls it.  There's a scripture in Nephi that says “I… will show unto you that the tender mercies of the Lord are over all those whom he hath chosen, because of their faith…”  Something for which I am very grateful.

I was going to try and tell it, but she was invited to tell this story at church, and sent me a copy of it.  So this is in her words.  

This story seems to be about missionary work, but to me, it is a story of the tender mercies of a loving Savior that spanned two continents and brought the miracles of healing to two families.
In the winter of 2011, two young men left their families to serve missions. Both were going to a foreign country where they would learn a new language and be thousands of miles from their homes. Both were willing and excited to serve, both left families and siblings that were struggling with various trials, but knew the Lord would bless their families for their willingness to serve in the mission field. They even had the same sandy brown hair, pale eyes, and an infectious smile with a dimple on one side. Neither of them could have had even an inkling of what the Lord had in store. It took a tremendous amount of preparation work, and several different people following spiritual promptings, to bring about the miracles that were about to follow.

Our son, Elder Trevor Larson reported to the Argentina Cordoba mission in July of 2011. He had left behind his family, including a younger brother, Jacob, who he knew he wouldn’t see for almost 4 years, due to their missions overlapping. Jacob was struggling under heavy trials, and Trevor prayed for him daily. While in the Mission Training Center, a Bishop felt prompted to tell Trevor that his brother would be alright. About that same time, I received a very distinct impression that our Savior, Jesus Christ, was stepping in to take the wheel.

Elder Juan Manuel Gomez left his home in Argentina to serve here in the Arizona, Mesa mission. He had an older sister back home, who lived in Cordoba, several hours away from her family. She was also suffering with heavy trials, including the loss of a child, and had the added burden of not having the Gospel in her life for strength and comfort. He sent his emails to his family and to his sister, hoping that something he said could help mend her broken heart. One day, after much prayer, Elder Gomez was prompted to write a handwritten letter to his sister. While writing it, he was inspired to write a paragraph in English. He thought it was a strange prompting, as she knew no English, but he followed the prompting, adding that she should find a Mormon missionary to translate it for her. In his heart, he hoped she would find a companionship where one Elder was American, to translate, and the other was a native, so she would trust their message.

In Cordoba, Elder Larson had been serving in the same area for several transfers. The mission president felt inspired to transfer him, but rather than moving him out of the ward where he had been serving, he only transferred him to the other bed in the same apartment. This meant he would be serving in the same area, but with a new companion-- a native of Buenos Aires. Within just two days of that change, Elder Gomez’ sister received her brother’s letter. She put it in her purse, thinking that as she worked in town she might see some Elders. On the way to work she spotted two missionaries. She mustered her courage to approach them and explained that she had a letter she needed them to translate. One of the Elders opened the letter and read it silently to himself. What he read made him smile:

“Hi Elder, I’m Elder Gomez and I’m serving as a missionary in the Arizona Mesa Mission. This person in front of you is my sister. She’s going through a hard time in her life. Her daughter passed away years ago and she would like to know if she will see her again. So if you can, please come by and teach her the Plan of Salvation. I would really appreciate it. Thanks so much, Have a great day”—Elder Gomez 

The Elders made an appointment to come visit Natalia to discuss what her brother had written. Trevor and his companion taught her. As she listened to their message the Spirit was so strong it could not be denied. Natalia recognized something in Elder Larson that reminded her of her brother, so far away in America. When Trevor wrote home that week, he told us of Natalia and gave me the mandate to “Find Elder Gomez!” I wondered, “How am I supposed to do that?” The very next day, we received a phone call. The man on the other end said, “Sister Larson, you don’t know me, but I have an Elder Gomez at my house for dinner who would like to meet you”. He was only a mile away from our home. I jumped in the car and sped over. As soon as I met him, I felt I was talking with my son Trevor. We took a quick picture, he thanked me for raising my son, and left with his companion for an appointment. I knew then, that Elder Gomez was going to be the answer to Trevor’s prayers, just as Trevor had been the answer to his. I felt he needed to come and meet Jacob and take him on some missionary splits. This was in November of last year. I began praying that he would be transferred to our Stake.

Three months later, Trevor baptized Natalia. Her parents were able to travel to Cordoba to attend. Elder Gomez said “My sister was able to rely on and trust in Elder Larson because we had something in common. She said that he and I are very similar and that she felt like her ‘little brother’ was teaching her. Because of that, and because of his natural love for people, she trusted him. I’m grateful that our Heavenly Father placed at the right time and at the right place, the missionary that my sister needed to meet” Natalia wrote: “I know my Heavenly Father lives and that he hears my prayers. I know that the book of Mormon is true. It gave me the answers that I needed to know. I am grateful for Jesus Christ and for the Plan of Salvation. I look forward to going to the Temple someday and being sealed with my children here on earth and my daughter in heaven. Families can be together forever. I know it. I’m happy.” Shortly after the baptism, Elder Larson was transferred out of Cordoba.

Elder Gomez had been transferred too, but to Scottsdale! I decided to be patient and wait on the Lord. One day, a full nine months after this miracle began, we learned that Elder Gomez had been called to be the Zone Leader over our Stake, and would be able to do splits with Jacob at least once a month. This was just as our eldest son, Taylor, was getting married and starting Law school, leaving him less time to spend with our family. The Chaffee’s in our ward, had previously felt impressed to take in the Elders, and Elder Gomez and his companion moved into their home, only two blocks from ours. As soon as Jacob met him, he had an instant connection with him. Since then they have been able to teach together on several occasions. Elder Gomez has filled the empty gap that Jacob has felt since Trevor left. As Trevor was able to stand in for Elder Gomez at Natalia’s baptism, Elder Gomez stood in for Trevor when Jake was ordained an Elder and again when Jacob opened his mission call. These things would not have happened had he been transferred to our Stake back when I wanted him to be. The Lord’s timing was, as usual, perfect.

In 1 Cor 2:9 we read…”eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him.” The tender mercies of the Lord are all around us. The amount of miracles that took place here and in Argentina, including the inspiration of two mission presidents, Bishops, the Chaffees, and the Elders themselves, all the way down to the single-dimpled smiles of these two missionaries, show that this was no coincidence. This was planned from the beginning. Elder Gomez said, “I know that I needed to come to Arizona from Argentina and that Elder Larson needed to go to Argentina from Arizona. God knows everything, but we need to exercise faith and do all that we can to expect and facilitate miracles.”

I’m grateful for this amazing young man, Elder Gomez, and his love for my son Jacob. They are truly ‘brothers from different mothers’! Because of these events, we will always feel a love and connection with him and his family in Argentina.

November 17th ......My Grandmas

The 70's was a scary time for fashion.  Everyone talks about the 80's now, but really, they were a vast improvement over the 70's.  Of course, that's what we think in retrospect, at the time, it was all just so cool.  Polyester was relatively new, and polyester double knit the wonder fabric.  My mother LOVED polyester double knit because it was indestructible.  She made my baby brother's little overalls out of it, because he couldn't crawl the knees out of them.  A google search today showed that they still make polyester doubleknit, but it appears to be a vastly more comfortable and nice looking fabric than the heavy stuff of the 70's.

Just before I moved to Utah in 1984, my Grandma F gave me about 5 yards of red polyester doubleknit with instructions to make myself a suit out of it.  It was soooooo far out of fashion that there was NO WAY, but I didn't tell her that. She was a penny pincher, there was no such thing as a useless anything.  She wrote poems on the backs of the envelopes that came in the mail.  I thanked her and put it in my stash of fabric.  Several years later I was making a camping quilt...simple, just big blocks of fabric cut from old clothes mostly.  I was short on cash, but needed something to back it with and while going through my stash, I found the doubleknit.  It made a great quilt back.

SO great, that now, 20 years later, I still have that quilt.  The back looks nearly brand new.  The top has been patched and repatched.  Last week as I was wrestling the heavy thing through the sewing machine, patching it once again, I considered throwing it out.  But, I think because of the connection to that ultra-frugal grandma,  I can't do it.  Patching it is cheaper than making another one, and probably takes less time.  So, I patch it and think of Grandma F.

I was taught to knit by both grandmothers. I don't know if different knitting styles had names, but each grandma had her own way of knitting.  And, both of them were convinced that the other was ruining me by teaching me the wrong way.  It didn't help that they didn't like each other much.  But, between them, I learned to knit.  I'm not a frequent knitter, or even a great knitter, but I do OK.  My style is probably a weird mesh of Grandma F and Grammie E's different styles.  

Grammie E was prolific and the fastest knitter I have ever seen, she could knit a little person sweater in a couple of days.  I remember as a little kid being fascinated watching her flashing needles.  She did a lot of different kinds of handwork and always encouraged me when I was embroidering or crocheting or knitting or whatever.  She knit us sweaters and dresses and doll clothes.  When she died, Mom and Dad decided that since I still knit, I could have her vast collection of knitting needles, patterns, etc.  Every once in awhile I get a wild hair to knit something, maybe just to keep from forgetting how.  And when I do, I go to the drawer with all the knitting needles, and gauges and crochet hooks and yarn needles and I think of Grammie E.  

My grandmothers never did learn to get along.  Grandma F was a staunch member of the Church, who went to the temple nearly every day and made us sing "Love At Home" when we argued.  Grammie E was agnostic, and loved watching golf and football on TV on Sundays, knitting needles going full-speed ahead, seemingly on their own.  I loved them both, and look forward to when I can see them again someday and thank them for all they taught me.

November 16 ....Education (and yes I know I skipped one)

I didn't mean to skip a day.  I just wasn't home all day  I should have written something the night before.  But plan ahead?  Me?  You gotta be kidding...

A few weeks ago, the story about a Pakistani girl named Malala broke.  She had been shot by the Taliban for standing up for a girl's right to an education.  She is 15 years old.

Aside from the fact that I know very few fifteen year olds with convictions this strong about anything other than Justin Beiber or One Direction, I'm homeschooling a 15 year old who hates everything about getting an education.  (She dislikes Justin Bieber too, to her credit.)  She says that she thinks that History is pointless, Math is too hard, English is stupid. I may have those mixed up, it could be English that's stupid.  At any rate, it's a battle to get any schoolwork done at all because she'd rather be doing just about anything else.  I showed her the story about Malala, hoping to at least make her grateful that no one is shooting at her while she does her schoolwork.  She thought the girl was very brave and all, but it didn't change her attitude about the stupidity of whichever subject we're working on.

My mother in law was the daughter of migrant farm workers.  When she was very small, her Oklahoma family packed up and headed to California a la Grapes of Wrath . She was picking peas at 5 years old, her moonshiner dad and older brothers spending more time in jail than out.  She and her mom were left to make their living, so she was needed in the fields.  She got the opportunity to go to 3rd grade in Arizona when her parents were working there  She learned to read, and then read every thing she could get her hands on.  She still loves reading, and you rarely see her without a book in her hand.  She is very well-read, self educated,  and one would never guess that she only had one year of formal education.

I'm grateful that we live where the opportunity for education is now available to all.  We can argue about how good an education it is, but at least no one is shooting our kids when they want to learn. And, we don't have to be rich to pay for it; public school, such as it is, is open to all.  It's a privilege that many kids, including my own, don't appreciate.  But, one for which our family (my daughter excepted)  is very grateful.

November 14.....Sunsets

This was one of those days.  It started out OK, but kind of went downhill from there.  I forgot about the blog, homeschool was tougher than usual, and I was feeling kind of cranky.  I was sitting at the dining room table, paying bills, (hence the cranky part, as we are still unemployed) when Sam said, "Wow!  Look at that!"

He grabbed his camera and headed outside.  I looked up to see this:

A spectacular sunset over the Bay.  Another reason we love it here so much.  I'm glad I built this house with so many windows.  Even if they are a pain to keep clean.  Because nearly every time I look out, I can see a reason to be thankful.  I just need to remember to look more often.  

November 13.....Good friends.

So, I've rewritten this at least three times.  I started out writing about my current BFF's aka The Sisterwives.  But, really I've been blessed my entire life with great friends.

I was fortunate enough to spend all my school years in the same house, so I had friends that went with me through all my years of grade school, middle school and high school.  Some of them, I'm still in touch with now, a few have been friends so long that I can't remember when I didn't know them.  I was lucky to have exceptional friends in high school,  all of them good kids from good families.  I survived all the "temptations" of the 70's because my friends weren't into any of that either, so I was never seriously tempted.  For that I'm grateful.  I still did some stupid stuff, after all I was a teenager, but nothing with far-reaching consequences.  I'm grateful for that.

Some of them were not only fun to hang out with, but were great examples of who and what I really wanted to be.  One, especially comes to mind.  His name was Mike and was one of those that I've known forever.  He was fun, a little nuts, but had an amazing grasp of the gospel and what was truly important in life, even at a young age.  He was the guy jogging around the car opening all the doors for the girls, the one who made sure everyone got a chance to dance, the one who challenged me to read the Book of Mormon for the first time, took me on my first date when I turned sixteen, brought me treats when I was laid up one summer with stupid knees, pushed me to all my classes when I started my sophomore year in a wheelchair, and had the good sense to marry one of my good friends, who is equally awesome.  I don't get to see them very often, but they are still some of my favorite people.

(I used this pic of Mike, because anything else I have would have to be scanned.  I stole this from his FB page)

I moved to Utah when I was 25 for about ten years.  Say what you will about Utah, I made more great friends there.  Some were roommates, some were neighbors, but I always felt that I had "backup" no matter what went wrong.  Fixing my car, taking care of me after surgery, making me laugh after I lost my job, helping me pass calculus, etc.  I missed my family in Arizona, but had a pretty amazing "family" there.  Facebook is an amazing tool for keeping in touch with all of those great friends, because we are all over the map now.

Here in California, I have too many friends to count.  Both in San Jose, where we first lived, and down here in Monterey.  We love our church family, so many great people.  We have a lot of military people in our congregation, so people come and go.  So now, we have great friends all over the world.  

But, today, I don't know what I'd do without my "Sisterwives".  They can make me laugh no matter the circumstance, they volunteer their husbands to help with big projects, put up with my Meg when we wanna leave town, talk me into strange things like dying my hair red.  They are my "California Family".  Their kids are Meg's extra siblings, which has been good for her.  She needed siblings closer to her age and younger.  The kids really act like siblings, they fight, they make up, and if anyone tried to do anything to any of them, they would have a dozen crazies to deal with.  We joke about the Sisterwives, but we really have each other's back, and that's nice to know.  And a huge blessing, for which I am grateful.

(Oddly enough, no pics of all of us together...Need to talk to Sam about that)

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November 12th ..... Modern Medicine

Today I woke up with a headache, probably a sinus headache.  I took drugs and it's going away!  Yay!  So, today I'm grateful for modern medicine.  What did pioneer women do when they had a headache?  Or worse, a migraine.  My daughter in law suffers from migraines, and I'm not sure what she'd do without some high-powered medicines that help her cope with them.

I've broken a lot of bones in my life.  Not sure what that says about me, I'm not exactly a daredevil.  I broke my leg when I was five on my uncle's trampoline.  I dislocated both kneecaps (not a break, I know, but inconvenient nonetheless) when I was 15.  I fell and broke both wrists when I was 19, and my ankle a few years later when I was moving into a downstairs apartment.  I already wrote about my broken hand.  SO....can you imagine the state I"d be in without modern medicine?  I hate to think...

I wouldn't have my Meghan.... actually, I probably wouldn't be here either.  After going two weeks overdue, 17 hours of pitocin-induced labor, and a c-section delivery, they found that the umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck three times.  She had been doing little pirouettes in my tummy, I guess.  In the old days, delivering her would probably have killed both of us.  Then, when she was five, she got a terrible case of pneumonia that landed her in the hospital for about a week.  Without modern antibiotics and breathing treatments, she wouldn't have survived that, either.

I have terrible allergies, I think I'm allergic to living.  With an allergy pill, a nasal spray and an inhaler, I can survive most of them.  I think if I didn't have those, I'd just have someone shoot me and put me out of my misery.

So, that's the gist of it.  I always say I'd be a terrible pioneer woman, but there's a good chance I wouldn't have lived that long anyway.  I'm grateful to live in this time and place, when medical knowledge is so advanced.

November 11th ....Sundays

This is gonna be short, because my "day of rest" is kind of busy today.  

I really do love Sundays.  Even if they aren't very "restful" in the usual sense of the word.  They are different from every other day of the week, and that makes it somewhat restful.  

We go to church every Sunday.  We don't always leave home happily, but we are always grateful when we get home that we went.  It's good to spend time thinking of things other than the usual, day to day junk we have to deal with in the world.  It's good to worship with people you love ( and we LOVE our Ward...awesome people there).  It's good to sing a hymn...or five.  I play the organ, and sometimes I sing while I play.  When we sing a song that the little people are familiar with, I love that I can hear my friend Normandy singing at the top of her six-year-old lungs.  I love the time during the sacrament, even though we have a LOT of babies and it's not so quiet, to reflect on my week and what I can do better.

After church, we have Sunday dinner with our local "family"...the friends that are "family that we choose".  It's usually pretty basic....we start texting each other Sunday morning:  " Ok, I have some chicken, do have some potatoes"  Or, "ummm....I can't think of anything, you have any ideas?"  Today it's a tostada bar.  It started one Sunday when we wanted to hang out together, so they brought their dinner here and we had our dinner and did kind of a potluck.  It's slightly more organized now.  But only slightly.  The few Sundays we don't do this, it feels "off".  

Sundays are good.  The Lord knows what He's doing, that we would need respite from the world's junk and a designated time to think about eternal things.  "Remember the Sabbath Day, to keep it holy."  A commandment for which I am thankful.

November 10 ......My talents...

Like all of Heavenly Father's children, I was blessed with talents.  Some apparent, some I didn't figure out until I was older.  I'm grateful for all of them, but my musical ability has brought me the most joy.

Apparently, at about four years old, I begged and I begged for Mom to teach me piano.  She resisted for a bit, but finally she caved.  We went along until I was about eleven or twelve, when I started complaining about practicing and wanting to quit.  She told me that if I learned every single hymn in the hymnbook, THEN I could quit.  The Lord gave me this talent, and I needed to at least develop it enough to help in church.  By the time I had finished that task, I was enjoying playing again.  I remember being asked by my violinist/best friend to accompany her in 7th grade when she played a concerto for the band/orchestra concert.  Her mom could have done it, but she wanted me too.  I had to work hard, but it was so much fun!  In High School I was accompanist for the concert and show choirs, and after High School I played for the Institute of Religion choir for seven years, which is where I met Sam.  Although he married the wrong girl first, silly man.

I moved to Utah in 1984, kind of on a whim.  There were lots of things I liked about it, and a few things I wasn't crazy about.  I never really got used to driving in snow and ice.  I hated it.  One morning, driving to work in Salt Lake City, I hit a patch of black ice and spun out and ended up smashed up against a light pole.  I was mostly OK, but something was very wrong with my left hand.

They took me to the hospital, where one of my co-workers showed up a few minutes later.  As they x-rayed and examined it, she asked the doctor if it was going to affect my piano-playing.  I was shocked she'd even thought of that, I'm sure she'd never heard me play.  I certainly hadn't thought of that, I was mostly thinking,  "OW!". The doctor said, "Oh, she's a musician?" and before anyone could answer scurried out and came back with another doctor, who looked at it and said to call a hand specialist.  The biggest bone in my middle finger was smashed into several pieces, which required surgery, some wire and couple of tiny screws to fix.

When the surgery was over, I could not straighten that finger at all.  My doctor told me that although I'd get some movement back, the chance that I would get it all back was very slim.  He prescribed some physical therapy to help me.  That night, my awesome home teacher came up and gave me a priesthood blessing.  In it, he assured me that it would be OK.  I worked hard at my physical therapy, and started typing at work and playing piano even before it was fully healed. My friends were very supportive and encouraging.  I think that the blessing's assurance that  it would be OK if I did everything I could, kept me going through the pain of physical therapy and the frustration of trying to play again.  Or it could be just plain stubbornness.  It took close to a year, and my doctor was amazed, but it is completely healed, and other than a long scar down that finger you can't tell there was anything wrong with it.

I have had the opportunity to participate in so many amazing things as a pianist/organist.  I love just sitting down and playing for fun, although I don't do it nearly often enough.  It's a great stress reliever.  I enjoy playing the organ for church, I REALLY love when I get to crank it up all the way for Stake Conference.  SO FUN!  I love the hymns, several of them have special meaning for me, and I'm so grateful that the Lord blessed me, multiple times, so that I am able to play them for others.

November 9 ..... Awesome parents.

Like Nephi in the Book of Mormon, I have "goodly parents".

Both of my parents were from Mormon pioneer families, although Dad's grandmother left the church long before he was born.  He was baptized into the Episcopal church, although I have no memory of his mother ever going to church.  Dad's family was fairly well off and weathered the depression fairly easily.  After being homeless during most of the depression, Mom's family bought a tiny house on the "wrong side of the tracks" for $150 and that was where Mom grew up, and where I remember visiting as a little kid.  How they met is a bit fuzzy, but I know Dad was friends with one of Mom's cousins and that Mom was playing the accordian at the Mezona dance hall when she wasn't really even old enough to be there.  Somewhere in there, they met.  Neither mother was happy about it;  Grammie E thought Mom wasn't good enough for Dad, Grandma F was worried because Dad wasn't a Mormon.

This being Mesa, which is kind of "Utah, Jr", Dad had lots of Mormon friends, and he ended up joining the church.  His mother was not happy at all, but his grandmother, who he expected to be the maddest, seemed OK with it.

Dad worked at the phone company,  working his way up to engineering management. They had six kids, although there are 21 years between me and the youngest, so I don't think all six of us ever lived in the house together.  He worked hard and my Mom was a whiz at budgeting and stretching a dollar, so we had it pretty good.  She also gave piano lessons and made wedding cakes to earn money for our vacations.  They took us on all kinds of fun trips, to the beach, to Disneyland, and even on a couple of epic six week road trips across country, both of which we planned as a family, going over maps and writing for info from all the states we would go through.  No internet, you know, we couldn't Google it.  Later Mom used her Cake Money to rent a beach house for a month every summer near San Diego.

They taught us the gospel.  We went to church every week, and many church activities during the week.  We had family prayer, and Family Home Evening. They taught us that family time was fun.  That work came before play.  That piano practicing came before everything else.  We all learned at least some piano, and most of us went on to play other instruments: organ, flute, trumpet, harp.

Dad supported all this music stuff, even though he hadn't participated in music anything since playing trumpet as a kid.  He doesn't sing either, he whistles.  Zip A Dee Doo Dah being the tune I remember the most.  He tried to teach my brothers to be as handy as he was at fixing anything.  He was somewhat successful with one brother, but our best handyman is my sister, Julie.  He took us shooting out in the desert ie "wild can hunting", and most of us camping.  (Mom doesn't camp.  Period.)  He's been active in the Boy Scouting program for his entire life.  Now he helps train scoutmasters.  He loves genealogy and works in the Family History Center in Mesa.

In addition to music, Mom taught us cooking from a very young age, I remember Mikey climbing up and nuking his own hot dog at three years old.  She would prep dinner while we were at school, we were expected to finish it up while she gave piano lessons after school.  That included my brothers.  They had to learn to do laundry, too. They were the only boys I knew who didn't have some sort of laundry snafu the first time they did laundry as missionaries.  I learned to sew early, and was sewing most of my own clothes by the time I was ten or so.  She also taught, and continues to teach us, service to others. Taking meals to people, sewing blankets for shelters and the church humanitarian program.  Taking a blind friend to work every morning.  Playing organ in the temple every Saturday.  She played games with us, although sometimes threatening to ground us if we charged her for landing on Boardwalk.

Our friends were always welcomed and they all loved my Mom.  (They were all kind of scared of Dad, which is just silly!)  When I was in High School, there was a standing invite for non-football Friday nights for my friends.  Some of my friends would just drop by to talk to Mom, even if I wasn't there.  A couple of years ago, my Mom got a call from one of my High School friends who said that she was driving by and just wondered if the phone number was still the same.  They had a great visit and I'm happy that this friend, who has had so many trials, has good memories of Mom's home.

Like Nephi's parents, they have watched their kids make smart choices and not-so-smart choices.  I'm sure we gave them lots of sleepless nights, and probably still do.  One thing I've learned by being a parent is that parenting never ends....you worry and pray over them even when they are starting their own families to worry and pray over. I'm certain that I gave them more than my share of worry.

I'm thankful for their guidance, their support, and for all the things they taught me.  Mostly I'm grateful for their patience when I went through brain-dead periods of my life.  I came around because they taught me well.

November 8 ...Indoor Plumbing

This is serious.  Really.  I hate outhouses and "doing my business" in the outdoors.  I would have been a cranky, terrible pioneer woman.  I know my great grandmother didn't have indoor plumbing at her ranch in Strawberry, Arizona until my mom was practically a grown up.  Mom says she hated going up there, because going potty in the middle of the night was terrifying.  She said she could see a few bugs/spiders in the outhouse, but what she couldn't see scared her more.  Not only do I have flush toilets, I have FOUR of them.  Although the fourth one I had to be talked into, it's in the garage and whether it's clean or not is Sam's problem.  It's handy when we come home from the movies, having sucked down whatever giant soda we bought, being able to scatter and all three of us have a bathroom.

And, of course, there is the pumping and/or hauling of water for other stuff;  cooking, cleaning, laundry, bathing...I tell you, I would be one seriously cranky woman (no comments, please).  Even though I don't have a fancy frontload washer to do my laundry, I'm not beating it in a tub of water that I carried from the creek or something.   I even have a spigot over my stove so I don't have to strain anything filling a pot with water and carrying it from the sink to the stove.  I'm spoiled.

So my undying gratitude to whoever the Lord inspired to invent flush toilets and indoor spigots.

This toilet is a model we found when researching toilets for our house. You can read details about it here. Yes, we researched.  As much as we love indoor plumbing, Sam HATES HATES dealing with plumbing issues.  So we did serious shopping when picking out toilets.  We ordered our Totos from New Jersey.  And it paid off, in almost ten years, only TWICE have we had clogged toilets.  For which Sam is grateful.  And me too.

November 7th.....Prophets

An eternal perspective is always nice when things don't go the way you want them to.  "In the vast, eternal scheme of things, is this going to matter?".  When the answer is "no", then we just have to "get on with getting on." (Dunno who said that first, but I like it.) And, this is true, even when elections don't go the way you want them to.  The Lord has His plan for mankind and it will all play out the way He wills it.  So, the best we can do is to try and do His will, and be kind to everyone, even if they didn't vote your way.  I think I will have to stay off of Facebook today.  Too much gloating, or doomsday stuff.  I'm not sure either are called for.

I"m thankful for a knowledge of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and I'm especially thankful that we have a prophet and apostles who guide us and help us remember the things that are truly, eternally, important.  Some favorite quotes from modern prophets and apostles:

"We shouldn’t wait to be happy until we reach some future point, only to discover that happiness was already available—all the time! Life is not meant to be appreciated only in retrospect. “This is the day which the Lord hath made … ,” the Psalmist wrote. “Rejoice and be glad in it.”6
Brothers and sisters, no matter our circumstances, no matter our challenges or trials, there is something in each day to embrace and cherish. There is something in each day that can bring gratitude and joy if only we will see and appreciate it." President Dieter F Uchtdorf

" We live in a unique time in the world’s history. We are blessed with so very much. And yet it is sometimes difficult to view the problems and permissiveness around us and not become discouraged. I have found that, rather than dwelling on the negative, if we will take a step back and consider the blessings in our lives, including seemingly small, sometimes overlooked blessings, we can find greater happiness." President Thomas S Monson

“Be respectful of the opinions and feelings of other people. Recognize their virtues; don’t look for their faults. Look for their strengths and their virtues, and you will find strength and virtues which will be helpful in your own life.  We ought to live together as sons and daughters of God. We have a common Father. That means that we are brothers and sisters and we ought to live together in that way. "  President Gordon B Hinckley, interview with Phil Riesen, Channel 2 News, Salt Lake City, Utah, 12 May 1995


And a last one from President Monson:

‎"It would be easy to become discouraged and cynical about the future—or even fearful of what might come—if we allowed ourselves to dwell only on that which is wrong in the world and in our lives. Today, however, I’d like us to turn our thoughts and our attitudes away from the troubles around us and to focus instead on our blessings...My beloved brothers and sisters, fear not. Be of good cheer. The future is as bright as your faith." - President Thomas S. Monson 

(The links are to the entire address that the quote was taken from)