Puppy Power

We have a new member of the family. A precious pup called Coco Beans. It is our daughter's dog and she's darling. She reminds me of a little Ewok from Star Wars. She is full of puppy personality and spunk. She may be small, but she's mighty. She isn't afraid of the vacuum, or bigger dogs, or people. In fact, when it comes to people, she acts like a magnet.

My husband and I tagged along the other day as our daughter went to Wal Mart to pick up some mini dog biscuits and a few new toys. (Can a new baby ever have too many toys?) Coco Beans tagged along too. I was holding her most of the time and it was fascinating to me how many people came right over to oooh and awwhh over her, ask her name, and pet her. I expected this with moms and children, but it happened with teenage boys, older couples, and men who looked like they worked construction. The cutest conquest was a young couple who's outward appearance would most likely scare a police officer: spiked blue hair, black lipstick, and piercings in facial places that looked painful. This cute couple made the same goo goo sounds when they approached as the construction guy, and Coco Beans gave them the same unconditional puppy love as she had the little girl in the Hello Kitty dress. It was a touching interchange.

Unconditional love. The sweetness of that little fur ball went right past the outward appearance and straight to the heart. It showed me that no matter what walls and facades we put up, we all have soft little hearts that want to love and be loved.

Perhaps we should all carry around puppies.

Father's Day With A New Tradition

How grateful I am that I have my father here to celebrate Father's Day with!

This year our whole family did something a little different with Father's Day and boy did we have a blast!

Unfortunately we don't get together nearly as often as we should or would like to.

I have heard the family express their disappointment about this but it seems that the opportunity is never taken to do anything about it. My dad has especially expressed how much it means to him when his family gathers around him, and how sad he is that we just don't do it often enough. I decided maybe we could change that. Everyone agreed.

One day about a month and a half ago I was visiting with my dad when he had told me how overwhelmed he had felt with his yard work this year. He has had some back problems that was affecting his leg and hip and couldn't see how he could possibly get the yard work done this year. (Dad has quite a large yard and I wouldn't be able to keep up with it,even feeling my best, let alone having health issues...)

This was a perfect opportunity for the family to come together. Everyone jumped at the chance.

For Father's Day we all went to Dad's to do his entire yard. We had family memebers come from Idaho, and even some came in motor homes the previous night to get an early start. Others came at various times to offer any time they possibly had to give. But everyone had to travel over an hours drive to get there so this was not going to be a quick trip to grandpa's house.

We planted flowers, which we all pitched in and paid for, we planted vegetables, we replaced railroad ties in borders, pulled weeds, mowed and trimmed the lawn, and filled in and planted a pond area. At the end of the work we had a big family BBQ. The food was incredible-- the company even better! :)

I think the thing that stood out in my mind the most was having the family pulling together in one purpose. Kids, grand kids and great grand kids, one and all, participated. We laughed, we worked, and we thoroughly enjoyed being together. The weather even gave us a hand. It had rained all week long and had finally let up for that one day. The sun was shining so brightly that our white winter skin even got a little color! It was an amazing experience for all who participated. In fact, it was so nice, I'm ready to do it again.

The real reward for me though, was seeing the gratitude in my father's eyes. He walked around, helping every which way he possibly could, but his heart was full of gratitude. He was speechless each time he tried to express how much it all meant to him.

Within a few days, each family received the sweetest heartfelt thank you written by my dad that I will always cherish. You would have thought we gave him the world.

I am so very grateful to my father whom I know would do-- and has done everything for me. He has always been such a tremendous example and influence in my life. I sure love you, dad!

I'm also grateful for my husband who is such a wonderful father to my boys. I have always said he's my own Prince Charming and I think I am the luckiest girl in the world.

I now thrill at the sight of seeing my oldest boy being a father himself to my adorable little grandson. My other son isn't too far behind. As a teenager he is growing up too fast for my comfort zone.

I have much to be thankful for as I have each of these generations of men/Father's in my life. All are heroes in their own way to me. I honor each of them.

I certainly hope that with as much fun as we had celebrating Father's Day as a family that it can become a new tradition for many years to come!

Why I want a Kindle

by Anna Jones Buttimore


Cheri blogged yesterday about an advantage of the Kindle - being able to change the text size. I'm currently weighing up whether or not to buy one, and that's something for my "For" list.

Thus far, the list looks something like this:

For
No trying to fit books onto already overloaded shelves.
Fits easily into my handbag for instant reading anywhere.
Lots of free classic books for immediate download - including the scriptures!
Lighter than a book, yet it can hold up to 3,900 books. (Especially important since we're going on holiday to Majorca next month and my baggage allowance is only 15kg, so I can't take any books.)

Against
Second-hand books in charity shops are cheaper than Kindle editions, as are many bargain paperbacks.
My husband thinks the technology will quickly become out of date and I will be replacing my Kindle every year or so. (I disgree...)
I'm limited to buying books from Amazon. (But I buy all my books from Amazon anyway...)
If I read a good book on the Kindle, I can't then lend it to a friend. (And can't then forget which friend I lent it to, and thus lose it and have to go out and buy it again.)
If I lose it, I lose my entire book collection. (Except that they are backed up on Amazon so I can download them for free when I buy a new one.)

As you can see, I'm really tending towards "For". Only downside is that we just don't have the money to justify it right now. But they were there, on the shelf in Tesco, when I did my weekly shopping yesterday. It took every ounce of willpower not to put one in my trolley. I drooled for a few moments and then pressed on round the shop. The blow was when I got to the checkout and discovered that I had spent £111 on my family's food for the week. About average, for us, but in a cruel ironic twist, exactly the price of the Kindle I had so nearly bought.

We could all do with losing some weight, I wonder if they'd mind if I bought a Kindle rather than food next week?

Books vs. E-Books

Not long ago I wrote a post that discussed books vs. e-books. At that time I was of the opinion that books were the only way to go. I still prefer reading in that format, but I've since seen a side of the e-book craze that is quite positive.

My mother has a form of macular degeneration and her sight has been deteriorating the past couple of years. She has always enjoyed reading good books. She collects books, and it is getting harder for her to savor her favorite tomes. So for Mother's Day this year, my siblings and I gave her a Kindle. At first, she was a bit stand-offish about the whole idea, even after one of my sisters explained that we could enlarge the text of each book added to the Kindle to make it easier for her to read.

One afternoon, I drove her out to my home and we began the process of setting things up for her on the Kindle. Despite her protests about what a waste of time and money it was, she finally sat, enthralled when I began adding books to her Kindle. We were able to find numerous classic novels offered for free on Amazon, several that are some of her favorite books. We added those, as well as others we purchased for a minimal cost and it was reminiscent of watching a kid in a candy store. My mother now has 80 books on her Kindle and she couldn't be happier. We changed the setting to a font size that enables her to read without any problem, and she absolutely loves this new fangled device her children purchased on her behalf.

So I am writing a bit of a retraction. I am seeing that e-books do indeed serve a purpose. I'm even considering the advantages of getting either a Kindle or a Nook for my own personal use someday. I will always love and savor my collection of books, but I'm suspecting that I just might enjoy having e-books on hand as well. I have decided there is room for both in this crazy world.

Accidental Kidnapping

I never thought kidnapping could be an accident except when a parent is foolish enough to leave a child alone in a car while she or he dashes inside a house or store for just a moment--- until I got caught up in an unexpected child snatching venture. It happened ten years ago, but a recent invitation to be a guest speaker brought back the memory.

It was a different speaking experience for me. I'm often invited to speak to book clubs, at firesides, and to other book oriented groups, but Tuesday night I spoke at a Spanish Book Club. I don't speak more than a handful of Spanish words and I wasn't sure how much English the club members understood, but I accepted the invitation and there I was. The group was super friendly and their smiles made up for language gaps. And I had a lot of fun.

Why was I invited and why did I accept? The sweet lady who invited me worked with me a few years ago when I worked for the Salt Lake City Library. Occasionally we didn't understand everything the other said, but we had an almost immediate bonding between us. (Her English is much better than my Spanish.) I love that lady! No way could I tell her no. Seeing her again reminded me of an awkward, downright scary experience we shared.

I have Asthma and she has some severe allergies. One day while I was eating my lunch in the library lunchroom, she burst into the room, gasping for breath, and unable to speak other than in frantic gestures. I realized she was having a severe allergic reaction to something, so I grabbed my purse and gave her an allergy antidote I always carry. She was in serious trouble and I knew she needed medical help. I was also aware her two young children were in the library and couldn't be left unattended.

Dashing upstairs I informed the manager I was taking my assistant to an emergency room, grabbed her children and raced back downstairs where I proceeded to load all three into my car for a mad dash to a nearby Instacare. I pulled into the emergency loading and unloading area and told her daughter, Betsy, "Stay with your Mom while I park the car and tell them I'll be right in. "I'll keep Alfredo with me." She looked at me blankly for a moment, then said, "He isn't Alfredo," just before she slammed the car door and followed her mother who was being helped inside the emergency room.

Horrified, I actually looked at the little boy sitting meekly in the backseat. He wasn't Alfredo! I'd grabbed a child I'd never even seen before, but who was about the same size as my friend's five-year-old son and who had been sitting at one of the tables beside her daughter, Betsy.

Unsure what to do, I took his hand and he accompanied me into the emergency room where I filled out some papers and called my friend's husband. My friend was almost unconscious by this time and things were pretty chaotic for awhile. I hoped the boy wouldn't be missed before I could get him back to the library. I'm not sure he understood anything I said to him, but he seemed to know Betsy and stayed close to her, so I concentrated on my friend until a doctor took over.

It all ended well. My friend's husband arrived. Betsy informed me that though the boy wasn't her little brother she was tending him for a neighbor, and her Dad said he would see that he got home safely. Her brother was safe at a friend's house and hadn't even been in the library that day. And yes, my friend, was okay too. I was shaking as I drove back to the library and thought it was a miracle I didn't have a heart attack! An extreme allergy attack is scary enough, but I couldn't believe I'd actually kidnapped a child!

The Spanish Book Club

Distractions

How easily I can become distracted. I sit at the computer, searching for exactly the right word, the perfect phrase and my eyes wander from the screen, taking in the stack of mail that I didn't have time to sort yesterday.
Another pause, another struggle to describe the scene I see in my head so others will see it that way, too. This time it's a list of people I should have already called that distracts me, notes I should already have in the mail.
What are your distractions? Ringing telephones? (I just CAN"T ignore them!) Children? Husband?
I've found there's simply not enough time to do everything I want to do in this life. Therefore, priorities must be set. And adhered to. (That's another story entirely!) When I first started writing, there were two hours in my day when almost no one needed me - between 5 and 7 a.m. That became my writing time. It was my priority. It was inviolate. Almost.
There are always emergencies, and visitors, and mitigating circumstances (such as tile men coming to lay the new tile at 7:00 a.m. so I have to start painting baseboards at 3:30 a.m.) And then there are the little distractions that can eat into that valuable time.
I'll just throw a batch of washing in so it can be getting done while I write. Seven minutes of my two hours are gone. I'd better run out and bring in the newspaper before the sprinklers come on. The headline grabs me. Fives minutes gone.
I'm stumped. Where is this scene going? What is the motivation? I'll fix toast and juice while I figure it out. Six minutes eaten up. The cat is crying at the door. Better feed her. Four minutes. Suddenly it's seven a.m. my two hours are gone, and I only have two pages to show for my efforts instead of four or five. I let little distractions eat up a precious twenty-two minutes.
Make sure you're using your writing time to its best advantage. Close your eyes and ears to all the little distractions (unless someone is bleeding!) and stay focused on your writing. After all, isn't it one of your priorities?

Memorial Day Observed

In my younger years, we always looked forward to Memorial Day, but shamefully I admit, it wasn’t for the noble reasons it should have been.

It was simply because this was the first holiday of the great season of summer. We celebrated it by going camping! Well-- that was after we made a stop by the cemeteries to place flowers on the graves of our dearly departed. To me, it was a minor inconvenience, although I thought the flowers were always very pretty and the flags looked pretty cool.

Okay, I admit I had some very immature and very selfish thoughts back then, and yes, my parents tried earnestly to teach me what Memorial Day really was about. I just didn’t understand or truly appreciate it. I wasn’t listening. My mind was on sleeping out under the stars out at the lake. Wahoo!, I mean, it was finally summer!

I was quite young when my Grandpa Lawrence passed away, although I remember how great it was to always get a silver dollar every time he came to visit. Back then a silver dollar could buy all kinds of things at the candy counter.

I wasn’t a whole lot older when my Grandma Lawrence passed away and though I have a few fond memories of her, what I wouldn’t give to have a few more.

My Grandpa Christensen is buried in Denmark and my Grandma Christensen is still living. She turned 101 this past April. How wonderful is that? Can you imagine the things she has experienced in her lifetime?

We usually decorated my Grandpa and Grandma Lawrence’s graves. Grandpa’s always had a flag from serving in WWI. I always thought that was really something special to see by his headstone. I do remember even from a very young age, how proud I was of him for “earning the right to have a flag.”

Since my own mother has passed away, we have started a new tradition in our family. Each Memorial Day weekend, we go to my Dad’s house to spend the night so that early in the morning on Memorial Day, we can get up and go to the little country cemetery where my mom is to see the sunrise ceremony put on by the American Legion for the fallen soldiers.

The flag is raised at half- staff, there is a 21 gun salute, and off in the distance, a bugler plays “Taps” as the sun rises over the mountains. Words cannot describe the feeling that comes over you during the ceremony. It’s beautiful, it’s respectful, it brings a lump to your throat and tears to your eyes.





Every person who has served their country has a white cross that holds the United States flag near their headstone, placed by a volunteer from the American Legion. A large board with two flags is placed in the cemetery with all the soldiers names listed and where they served. This stands near the flag pole so that everyone can see it during the sunrise ceremony.

Recently my dad has talked much of wanting a veteran’s burial with the flag over his casket when he passes. He loves this country and gets somewhat emotional when he speaks of his time in the service and when he listens to the haunting melody of “Taps." I saw it again at that early sunrise service this past Memorial Day.

My son asked his grandpa what Memorial Day stood for. We all got in on the discussion sharing the little bit that we knew, and then I decided to look it up. Did you know that…

Memorial Day used to be called Decoration Day. It was observed back in 1865 by freedmen (freed enslaved southern blacks) in Charleston, South Carolina in 1865, at the Washington Race Course, to remember the fallen Union soldiers of the Civil War. The recognition of the fallen victims was then enacted under the name Memorial Day by an organization of Union veterans to honor Union soldiers of the American Civil War. Overtime, it was extended after World War I to honor all Americans who have died in all wars. Now known as Memorial Day, it is a day of remembering the men and women who died while serving in the United States Armed Forces.

Many people observe Memorial Day by visiting cemeteries and memorials. A national moment of remembrance takes place at 3 p.m. local time. Another tradition is to fly the flag of the United States at half-staff from dawn until noon local time. Volunteers often place American flags on each grave site at National Cemeteries.(Taken from WIKIPEDIA)

As a mother, I hope I can somehow let my children keep the thrill of the start of summer in their heart, but somehow instill the importance of honoring Memorial Day.

I think my son is already years ahead of me than I was at his age years by even wanting to know and understand the purpose of such an important day suchas Memorial Day. I only hope I can help him appreciate the purpose of it.