My neice is being deployed to Afghanistan.
She is now at a two week combat training camp while her sweet husband, who is also in the Air Force, takes care of their two young daughters. My neice will have a month home with her family and then be half way around the world for six months.
They seem to be taking it in stride. I suppose that's part of being a military person: accepting orders, never flinching from duty, and being strong even when the call means great personal sacrifice. I honor my niece and nephew, and all in the military. They are true patriots. I stand humbled and amazed by their commitment and bravery.
I'm trying to be brave, but I find myself weeping every time I see an American flag, or catch a glimpse of anything on television that shows service men and women in combat gear.
I also get angry when I see political leaders who are attempting to change the very base of this wonderful country. Oh, indeed, the United States of America isn't perfect, but we are great. Our Constitution has stood the test of time and made us a country of heart and substance. I'd love one of those unethical politicians, who doesn't think this country is great, to look my niece in the eyes and see what she thinks about America. I do believe they'd get a very honest and straightforward answer.
My niece will be laying much on the alter of freedom. I wonder if the said politician would willing do the same?
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Puzzles And Books Under Construction
I can’t help but think how much writing novels compares to a puzzle.
Though I can’t really claim to know the proper steps to producing a magnificent puzzle nor do I know the secrets or have the ability to write a Pulitzer Prize winning novel, I do believe there are some similar procedures to acquire both finished products.
Just as there are numerous styles of books, there several types of puzzles. First of all, you need fresh original puzzles to capture your audience just as fresh ideas captivate your reading audience.
I myself, am terrible at putting together a puzzle with anything more than a 100 pieces, I have learned that finding the pieces to the border gives me a good basis to work with,. Likewise, a first draft gives my story direction. While working with my border, I watch out for the corners. In writing, my draft helps me to beware not to “write myself into a corner.” (I still manage to do that from time to time but it was a good analogy, anyway.)
Persuasive thinking can be done with wording content just as writing in a crossword puzzle makes you think one way when the answer is really another. This is a fun way to throw the reader into questioning who the villain of the story might be and give them multiple choices to choose from.
While writing. hidden within an author’s plot are words that heighten the suspense, just as words can be found in word search puzzles. Sometimes they are easy to spot, while other times a reader skims over them, unaware that they have any significance until later in the story.
Brain teaser puzzles work in a similar fashion. The author has written the story in such a way that the answer may be right in front of your very eyes but you don’t see it until the author reveals it to you and even then you wonder how you missed it. (I love those kind of books-- the hard to figure out ones-but the answer was right there all along!)
Events interlock and lead up to the climax of the book, they keep the reader wondering what will happen next just as piece by piece the jigsaw puzzle eventually reveals the full picture.
Some puzzles require grids. As an author it’s crucial to keep track of time lines and character roles. Have you ever read a book when a character role was confused with another? YIKES! Bad writing and bad editing. I shamefully admit a time line was a hard lesson for me to learn.
Every child’s favorite is the Tic- Tac- Toe, Three in a row puzzle. Basically there are three parts to the story, the beginning (introduction) the climax, and the ending. Okay, there is a lot of stuff in between those three steps too but the point here is that when the story is told, it’s time to end it.
And then there is the all time favorite of every Primary and Sunday School teacher who finds their lesson has ended early, the Hangman style puzzle. It’s the common knowledge puzzle. In writing, you may have the bad guy figured out, but you read on because you love the book so much that you have to see how it ends. So really, “Hangman” is a bad name for this analogy-- I was going more for the “Common Knowledge” theory on this one.
Last but not least, the “Jigzone Puzzle.“ You may be wondering what this puzzle has to do with writing. When I find writer’s block has me stumped, I wander over to the “Zone.“ Sometimes I just need a break and this is my favorite puzzle site. It’s about all the puzzle I can handle, nothing too mind boggling. It gives me a quick escape while my book is under construction.
May all your puzzles be best sellers!
Here’s a "Happy Harvest" challenge for you:
Though I can’t really claim to know the proper steps to producing a magnificent puzzle nor do I know the secrets or have the ability to write a Pulitzer Prize winning novel, I do believe there are some similar procedures to acquire both finished products.
Just as there are numerous styles of books, there several types of puzzles. First of all, you need fresh original puzzles to capture your audience just as fresh ideas captivate your reading audience.
I myself, am terrible at putting together a puzzle with anything more than a 100 pieces, I have learned that finding the pieces to the border gives me a good basis to work with,. Likewise, a first draft gives my story direction. While working with my border, I watch out for the corners. In writing, my draft helps me to beware not to “write myself into a corner.” (I still manage to do that from time to time but it was a good analogy, anyway.)
Persuasive thinking can be done with wording content just as writing in a crossword puzzle makes you think one way when the answer is really another. This is a fun way to throw the reader into questioning who the villain of the story might be and give them multiple choices to choose from.
While writing. hidden within an author’s plot are words that heighten the suspense, just as words can be found in word search puzzles. Sometimes they are easy to spot, while other times a reader skims over them, unaware that they have any significance until later in the story.
Brain teaser puzzles work in a similar fashion. The author has written the story in such a way that the answer may be right in front of your very eyes but you don’t see it until the author reveals it to you and even then you wonder how you missed it. (I love those kind of books-- the hard to figure out ones-but the answer was right there all along!)
Events interlock and lead up to the climax of the book, they keep the reader wondering what will happen next just as piece by piece the jigsaw puzzle eventually reveals the full picture.
Some puzzles require grids. As an author it’s crucial to keep track of time lines and character roles. Have you ever read a book when a character role was confused with another? YIKES! Bad writing and bad editing. I shamefully admit a time line was a hard lesson for me to learn.
Every child’s favorite is the Tic- Tac- Toe, Three in a row puzzle. Basically there are three parts to the story, the beginning (introduction) the climax, and the ending. Okay, there is a lot of stuff in between those three steps too but the point here is that when the story is told, it’s time to end it.
And then there is the all time favorite of every Primary and Sunday School teacher who finds their lesson has ended early, the Hangman style puzzle. It’s the common knowledge puzzle. In writing, you may have the bad guy figured out, but you read on because you love the book so much that you have to see how it ends. So really, “Hangman” is a bad name for this analogy-- I was going more for the “Common Knowledge” theory on this one.
Last but not least, the “Jigzone Puzzle.“ You may be wondering what this puzzle has to do with writing. When I find writer’s block has me stumped, I wander over to the “Zone.“ Sometimes I just need a break and this is my favorite puzzle site. It’s about all the puzzle I can handle, nothing too mind boggling. It gives me a quick escape while my book is under construction.
May all your puzzles be best sellers!
Here’s a "Happy Harvest" challenge for you:
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Guy Fawkes
by Anna Jones Buttimore
With all this talk of Halloween, I have to do my British thing and talk about my memories of Guy Fawkes when I was a child. We didn't really do Halloween, you see. I never went trick or treating, never carved a pumpkin, never went to a Halloween party. When I was young, it was all about Guy Fawkes, more commonly called Bonfire Night, on 5th November.
Remember, remember, the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot!
I know of no reason why the gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot!
As a child I recited this exciting rhyme, eagerly anticipating the bonfire and fireworks, but actually I didn't know much about Guy Fawkes. In fact, I didn't know until just now, when I looked him up on Wikipedia, that he wasn't actually burned at the stake.
In the early morning of 5th November 1605, following an anonymous tip-off, barrels of gunpowder were discovered in the cellars underneath the houses of parliament. Guido (Guy) Fawkes was also found slipping away. Although he wasn't the mastermind of the plot to blow up parliament, with King James I and all the Lords and Nobility inside, he was in charge of its execution. He was tortured and sentenced to be executed by being hung, drawn and quartered, along with his co-conspiritors. However, in the event he jumped from the scaffold and broke his neck. Probably sensible given the alternative. When the plot was foiled, the King asked Londoners to light bonfires to celebrate the aversion of the tragedy. The tradition of lighting a bonfire on 5th November has continued in Britain for over 400 years now.
As children my sister and I would make a Guy, collecting old clothes and stuffing them with newspaper to make an effigy-of-sorts. Sometimes we would take our Guy and stand on the street near our local newsagents asking passers-by for "a penny for the guy". We'd then take the money home to our parents. In most families, the money was spent on fireworks, and the Guy was then burned on the family's bonfire. We only had a tiny garden, however, so while Dad would occasionally buy a cheap box of fireworks and set off a few in the garden, we usually went to an organised display run by the Parish Church or the Local Council.
There is a particularly evocative smell around Bonfire night. It's a heady mix of woodsmoke, sulphur and baked potatoes, and I have only ever smelt that delicious combination on 5th November. We'd wrap up in our coats, hats and scarves and huddle together behind the roped-off section, watching a much more impressive Guy than ours burning on top of the bonfire, laughing at the mist of our breath, and exclaiming about the fireworks. I always loved the Catherine Wheel best of all. We'd each have a sparkler, and we'd write our names in the air.
My middle daughter's birthday is 7th November, so occasionally she gets to go to a display on her birthday, which makes it extra-special. This year's is at our Bishop's home, and I suspect will involve quite a lot of food too.
Incidentally, did you know that it was Guy Fawkes who is responsible for the word "Guy", meaning a man, entering the language? Apparently, all those children asking for a "penny for the guy" caused the word "guy" to be applied to any funny-looking chap. When the word crossed the Atlantic, it lost its pejorative meaning. So if you refer to "your guy", you are harking back to a foiled terrorist plot 400 years ago.
With all this talk of Halloween, I have to do my British thing and talk about my memories of Guy Fawkes when I was a child. We didn't really do Halloween, you see. I never went trick or treating, never carved a pumpkin, never went to a Halloween party. When I was young, it was all about Guy Fawkes, more commonly called Bonfire Night, on 5th November.
Remember, remember, the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot!
I know of no reason why the gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot!
As a child I recited this exciting rhyme, eagerly anticipating the bonfire and fireworks, but actually I didn't know much about Guy Fawkes. In fact, I didn't know until just now, when I looked him up on Wikipedia, that he wasn't actually burned at the stake.
In the early morning of 5th November 1605, following an anonymous tip-off, barrels of gunpowder were discovered in the cellars underneath the houses of parliament. Guido (Guy) Fawkes was also found slipping away. Although he wasn't the mastermind of the plot to blow up parliament, with King James I and all the Lords and Nobility inside, he was in charge of its execution. He was tortured and sentenced to be executed by being hung, drawn and quartered, along with his co-conspiritors. However, in the event he jumped from the scaffold and broke his neck. Probably sensible given the alternative. When the plot was foiled, the King asked Londoners to light bonfires to celebrate the aversion of the tragedy. The tradition of lighting a bonfire on 5th November has continued in Britain for over 400 years now.
As children my sister and I would make a Guy, collecting old clothes and stuffing them with newspaper to make an effigy-of-sorts. Sometimes we would take our Guy and stand on the street near our local newsagents asking passers-by for "a penny for the guy". We'd then take the money home to our parents. In most families, the money was spent on fireworks, and the Guy was then burned on the family's bonfire. We only had a tiny garden, however, so while Dad would occasionally buy a cheap box of fireworks and set off a few in the garden, we usually went to an organised display run by the Parish Church or the Local Council.
There is a particularly evocative smell around Bonfire night. It's a heady mix of woodsmoke, sulphur and baked potatoes, and I have only ever smelt that delicious combination on 5th November. We'd wrap up in our coats, hats and scarves and huddle together behind the roped-off section, watching a much more impressive Guy than ours burning on top of the bonfire, laughing at the mist of our breath, and exclaiming about the fireworks. I always loved the Catherine Wheel best of all. We'd each have a sparkler, and we'd write our names in the air.
My middle daughter's birthday is 7th November, so occasionally she gets to go to a display on her birthday, which makes it extra-special. This year's is at our Bishop's home, and I suspect will involve quite a lot of food too.
Incidentally, did you know that it was Guy Fawkes who is responsible for the word "Guy", meaning a man, entering the language? Apparently, all those children asking for a "penny for the guy" caused the word "guy" to be applied to any funny-looking chap. When the word crossed the Atlantic, it lost its pejorative meaning. So if you refer to "your guy", you are harking back to a foiled terrorist plot 400 years ago.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Son-bursts
We've experienced quite a week in our ward. One of our stalwarts, a man everyone loved, passed away quietly. He had been battling Lou Gehrig's disease for quite some time. Recently, we thought he was improving and our hopes were raised that all would be well. It is---just not in the manner we had envisioned.
With heavy hearts, we girded up for the funeral. I've spent quite a bit of time the past few days with this man's sister who is a friend, and someone that I now visiting teach. Her heart is understandably shattered. She had been spending several hours each day with her brother, rendering service and lifting spirits. Her hopes had risen with the improvement she had witnessed. Her brother's death was not the miracle she had prayed for. Also, this woman's father passed away 6 months ago, and she is still healing from that great loss. Her heart is very tender, and the months ahead will be challenging.
Since I'm still the fearless leader for the YW in our ward, I had another concern: one of our Mia Maids is the youngest daughter of the valiant man who slipped from our lives this past week. Three other YW in our ward are nieces. This is a difficult time for all four young ladies. Somehow we have to help them ease through the heartache of losing a loved one.
In the middle of all of this, another ward stalwart, our previous bishop, suffered a massive heart attack. He was life-flighted to Utah for emergency by-pass surgery. His wife is our current Relief Society president. She was hit from all sides. She had been out of town to be with a daughter who had given birth to her first child when she received the news about her husband's heart condition. As she made preparations to leave and be with her husband, this woman's father passed away with a heart attack.
Wow! Is it pouring trials our direction, or what? It seemed as if it was storming like crazy in all of our lives. In a state of shock, we pulled together to survive. Knowing this funeral would be huge, all of our ward organizations rallied to help the remaining member of the R.S. presidency. (The woman I mentioned above who had aided her brother each day, is the other counselor in this presidency.)
To make matters even more entertaining, for weeks, our activities committee had been pulling together a huge Halloween party. It was to take place on October 31st. As it turned out, this would be the day of the funeral. Several of us wondered if it would be better to cancel the festivities in light of what had happened. Our wise bishop decided to continue with the plans that had been laid. He was definitely inspired.
Some of us who had been asked to help with the Halloween Carnival\Ward Trunk & Treat, had to hurry home to change clothes after the funeral so we could return to the church in time to set up the Halloween games. As we hurriedly redecorated the gym, we wondered if anyone would come to this event.
Surprisingly, most of our ward returned to celebrate what was left of this particular holiday. A goodly share of these people dressed in costume, including the children of the man whose life had been celebrated during the earlier funeral. This Halloween party proved to be a much needed stress release, and a chance to focus on something fun. It was the exact sunburst that was needed in our lives that night.
Life is like that. Storms move in and we often think it is the end of the world. Our faith is shaken and we wonder how we're going to survive. Then the Son bursts through the clouds and we realize that we're not as alone as we were thinking.
Our Savior is always there for us, no matter what trial we're enduring. He has experienced more than any of us can possibly comprehend, and His Atonement can heal our hearts if we will but turn to Him. When hearts are shattered, it is difficult to focus on the light He can bring into our lives. Our challenge is to look beyond the clouds, toward the Son-bursts of hope that will help us survive the difficult days ahead.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
BIRD BLOG
Susan Corpany graciously consented to fill in for me this week. Life has kind of piled up and she volunteered to give me some breathing room. Susan has a delightful off-the-wall sense of humor and has written several books dealing with serious topics in a humorous way that drives home the points she wishes to make. She's also a fellow Meridian columnist and a super friend. Thanks, Susan, and I'm sorry I couldn't think of a snappy title for this blog.
I am filling in today as a guest blogger for Jennie. Since she asked me, I have been thinking a lot about the concept of the V-Formation. I have a laptop skin on my computer, mostly because I need to be able to identify it when I forget to take it out of the plastic bin while going through security at the airport. It shows birds flying in a V and it says, “DARE TO SLACK - When birds fly in the right formation, they need only exert half the effort. Even in nature teamwork results in collective laziness.” (Demotivational products available at despair.com) All those years in corporate America, and I had just seen too many “teamwork” posters. The pendulum had to swing back the other way for there to a balance in the universe.
It was hard to choose among all the different designs they offered, but when one finds oneself flying with the Facebook crowd, there is definitely some slacking going on, so I thought it might serve as a reminder for me to get back on task and spend less time playing computer Scrabble. Warped humor aside, though, there is definitely a lift that LDS writers and readers give each other, and I thought I would make that the subject of this blog.
Magic Feathers
Remember the scene in Dumbo where Timothy the mouse gives the little elephant a “magic feather” and tells him it will help him fly? Timothy already knew that Dumbo could fly, but since Dumbo was flying in his sleep, he needed to be convinced before he would try again. There have been many readers and fellow authors along the way that have given me needed words of encouragement that helped me to believe in myself and do what I was capable of doing that were magic feathers to me. Somewhere in my stacks of papers is a blown-up phrase from a long-retired dot-matrix printer. That paper was on my bulletin board for years, read in times of doubt and despair. Those few words kept me trying, because I knew they were sincere. Today I would just be another hit on Orson Scott Card’s website, but back in the early 90s, before the internet had taken hold, I was able to have a one-on-one correspondence with him through Prodigy. He gave praise to a short story of mine called A Month in the Life of a Relief Society President. Among other things, he told me I should try and write a novel. Then he gave me a priceless piece of advice, to find my own style, not to try and copy someone else’s style or think all writers wrote the same way. So I sat down and wrote a novel. I might never have done so without his encouragement.
We may never know when our words may do the same for someone else along the way. I taught a writing class for our local elementary school a couple of years back. In spending an hour a day for a week with a class full of third graders, I like to think that I lit a spark within a couple of them, especially the one who brought me a thank-you card with the alliteration and metaphors circled and labeled. And it was from that class that I got my all-time-favorite piece of fan mail. “We hope you come back and visit our class again. Let your conscience be your guide.”
What to Jettison
I am in the process of cutting a substantial amount from my upcoming novel, while trying to keep the core of the story intact and most importantly, not lose any really funny lines. It helps me be able to fly higher when I have input about what slows down the story or does not move it forward at all. Sometimes a writer just can’t see that as clearly as an outside pair of eyes.
I am always appreciative, although not necessarily at the precise moment, of friends who will tell me what I need to hear rather than what I want to hear. I remember a Sunday School class in college where the teacher read the quote by President David O. McKay: “It is better to be trusted than to be loved.” A fellow piped up from the back of the class, “But it isn’t as much fun.” It is fun to have people say wonderful things about your writing, but we learn more from our critics than from those who praise us. I am always grateful for those who will tell me about the metaphorical piece of broccoli in the teeth of my book so that I can improve my craft. I try to be gracious, and learn rather than take offense, hoping it is my skin that will be thick and not my head.
In checking on my Amazon listings the other day, I read with embarrassment and amusement the review my then teen-age son gave to my first novel. “Transcends the classics” is one phrase that readily comes to mind. We should never have our books reviewed by people who love us, possibly not even by people who like us, or if we do, the review should be tagged by hearts rather than stars so that the reader can take the possible bias into account.
Scott has now become much less generous and when he turns a critical eye to my work, I know I am going to get feedback that will send me back to the drawing board and help me turn out a better finished product.
“Mike shouldn’t get the girl, either, Mom. He was just as dishonest as Daniel was in his own way. She forgave him way too easily.”
“I didn’t see anything that changed in Austin’s life? Why did he suddenly decide to go on his mission? The way it is now, it looks to me like he’ll be a slacker missionary.”
Flocking Together
I am grateful for the new friendships I have made through my writing and for the opportunity I have, even though only once or twice a year, to get together with like-minded writers for whom writing to the LDS community is more a labor of love than a means of paying lots of tithing. I am always uplifted by their spirits and almost always by their writings, usually having to ship home boxes of books that I have bought or traded for, and always having several more on my wish list. I look forward to the day when I am not so far away from the epicenter and can participate more fully in the LDS writing community, but in the meantime, if anyone wants to fly west as well as south for the winter, I know a place on the Big Island that makes a great writer’s retreat.
I am filling in today as a guest blogger for Jennie. Since she asked me, I have been thinking a lot about the concept of the V-Formation. I have a laptop skin on my computer, mostly because I need to be able to identify it when I forget to take it out of the plastic bin while going through security at the airport. It shows birds flying in a V and it says, “DARE TO SLACK - When birds fly in the right formation, they need only exert half the effort. Even in nature teamwork results in collective laziness.” (Demotivational products available at despair.com) All those years in corporate America, and I had just seen too many “teamwork” posters. The pendulum had to swing back the other way for there to a balance in the universe.
It was hard to choose among all the different designs they offered, but when one finds oneself flying with the Facebook crowd, there is definitely some slacking going on, so I thought it might serve as a reminder for me to get back on task and spend less time playing computer Scrabble. Warped humor aside, though, there is definitely a lift that LDS writers and readers give each other, and I thought I would make that the subject of this blog.
Magic Feathers
Remember the scene in Dumbo where Timothy the mouse gives the little elephant a “magic feather” and tells him it will help him fly? Timothy already knew that Dumbo could fly, but since Dumbo was flying in his sleep, he needed to be convinced before he would try again. There have been many readers and fellow authors along the way that have given me needed words of encouragement that helped me to believe in myself and do what I was capable of doing that were magic feathers to me. Somewhere in my stacks of papers is a blown-up phrase from a long-retired dot-matrix printer. That paper was on my bulletin board for years, read in times of doubt and despair. Those few words kept me trying, because I knew they were sincere. Today I would just be another hit on Orson Scott Card’s website, but back in the early 90s, before the internet had taken hold, I was able to have a one-on-one correspondence with him through Prodigy. He gave praise to a short story of mine called A Month in the Life of a Relief Society President. Among other things, he told me I should try and write a novel. Then he gave me a priceless piece of advice, to find my own style, not to try and copy someone else’s style or think all writers wrote the same way. So I sat down and wrote a novel. I might never have done so without his encouragement.
We may never know when our words may do the same for someone else along the way. I taught a writing class for our local elementary school a couple of years back. In spending an hour a day for a week with a class full of third graders, I like to think that I lit a spark within a couple of them, especially the one who brought me a thank-you card with the alliteration and metaphors circled and labeled. And it was from that class that I got my all-time-favorite piece of fan mail. “We hope you come back and visit our class again. Let your conscience be your guide.”
What to Jettison
I am in the process of cutting a substantial amount from my upcoming novel, while trying to keep the core of the story intact and most importantly, not lose any really funny lines. It helps me be able to fly higher when I have input about what slows down the story or does not move it forward at all. Sometimes a writer just can’t see that as clearly as an outside pair of eyes.
I am always appreciative, although not necessarily at the precise moment, of friends who will tell me what I need to hear rather than what I want to hear. I remember a Sunday School class in college where the teacher read the quote by President David O. McKay: “It is better to be trusted than to be loved.” A fellow piped up from the back of the class, “But it isn’t as much fun.” It is fun to have people say wonderful things about your writing, but we learn more from our critics than from those who praise us. I am always grateful for those who will tell me about the metaphorical piece of broccoli in the teeth of my book so that I can improve my craft. I try to be gracious, and learn rather than take offense, hoping it is my skin that will be thick and not my head.
In checking on my Amazon listings the other day, I read with embarrassment and amusement the review my then teen-age son gave to my first novel. “Transcends the classics” is one phrase that readily comes to mind. We should never have our books reviewed by people who love us, possibly not even by people who like us, or if we do, the review should be tagged by hearts rather than stars so that the reader can take the possible bias into account.
Scott has now become much less generous and when he turns a critical eye to my work, I know I am going to get feedback that will send me back to the drawing board and help me turn out a better finished product.
“Mike shouldn’t get the girl, either, Mom. He was just as dishonest as Daniel was in his own way. She forgave him way too easily.”
“I didn’t see anything that changed in Austin’s life? Why did he suddenly decide to go on his mission? The way it is now, it looks to me like he’ll be a slacker missionary.”
Flocking Together
I am grateful for the new friendships I have made through my writing and for the opportunity I have, even though only once or twice a year, to get together with like-minded writers for whom writing to the LDS community is more a labor of love than a means of paying lots of tithing. I am always uplifted by their spirits and almost always by their writings, usually having to ship home boxes of books that I have bought or traded for, and always having several more on my wish list. I look forward to the day when I am not so far away from the epicenter and can participate more fully in the LDS writing community, but in the meantime, if anyone wants to fly west as well as south for the winter, I know a place on the Big Island that makes a great writer’s retreat.
Halloween - oh how times have changed.
Growing up, Halloween was absolutely the best holiday ever. My friends and I would start talking about our costumes in August. Back in my day, you couldn't go to the store and buy a costume. At least I don't think you could. We never did. Our costumes were put together at home. Our biggest options were either to dress up like a hobo or a gypsy. I don't know why, but that was the fall back costume if you couldn't come up with something else.
Sometimes our friends would have parties and we would play games like bobbing for apples and getting blindfolded and feeling peeled grapes (eyeballs) and cold spaghetti (brains). We would decorate sugar cookies with gobs of frosting and piles of sprinkles, candy corns and those silver balls that have now been outlawed because they contain something bad.
Finally, with our costume put together, we would grab a pillow case, and meet our friends at the corner where we would then commence trick-or-treating, unchaperoned, of course. True story, we never had a parent with us. We didn't want one. We literally ran from house to house for hours. We would trick-or-treat until it was late, filling our pillow case until we could barely carry it. And we weren't getting those pathetic little snack size candy bars either. I'm talking full sized Snickers, Hersheys or Reeses.
We would come home and dump our candy out on the floor and sort through it, picking out the sick stuff like apples, carrot sticks or popcorn balls. Once we had all the candy sorted into piles; suckers, hard suckie candies, Tootsie Rolls, chocolate bars of different varieties, M&Ms and licorice (plus many other categories) we would begin the trade. My sister was a serious chocoholic and I wasn't, so I had a lot of bartering power. I liked licorice so we would swap and trade until we were satisfied we had what we wanted.
We would stuff our faces with candy until we were sick and then we would finally drop into a sugar coma for the night.
Costumes today are so involved, expensive and sometimes competitive (Are they having contests at school? Are they being graded?) Parents would never dream of allowing their children to go door-to-door unattended and heaven forbid they eat a piece of candy before we've inspected it.
Yes, my children think I'm ancient, in fact, they were shocked that Halloween even existed when I was a child but I'm so glad for the great memories. What are some of yours? What was Halloween like for you?
Monday, October 26, 2009
What Do We Really Need?
I had to laugh at a sign on a dollar store's marquee: We have everything for your snacking needs!
According to various diet philosophies, a dieter should plan for those snacking needs, but I have a feeling there's not much at a dollar store that would meet those requirements. Maybe pretzels.
I expect a lot of us have had to make some choices about wants and needs through the years—and at times try to help others—but I'm thinking not just about what we decide we need but what Heavenly Father knows we need. I've decided that for some reason what I feel I need at the moment isn't what He feels I need. So I'm trying to figure out what He wants me to learn and why I need what He's giving me (or just allowing me to receive through life's challenges).
I don't know the answer to that yet. Some lessons seem a bit obvious. I really like and need my space but I'm currently sharing my living quarters with two brothers and a sister-in-law. I like structure, but my work right now is mostly freelance so I have to create my own structure, something I'm not good at. Last week I finally reached out to some friends and felt their warmth and support in a wonderful way. Clearly there are some good lessons for me to learn here.
Last week I also had an experience that I think is quite common for parents but one I was fortunate enough to miss out on, at least until now. A teen's ridiculously high cell phone bill. My brother and his daughter are on my cell phone plan and my niece asked if we could add her half-sister, my step-niece. She's a single mom and a hard worker and though I felt it was risky I thought a mom needs a phone. It seemed fine for a few months but then, wham! A $200 bill on top of the regular bill. I debated giving her a second chance. She didn't know her calls were so expensive, she said, and she promised to pay up when she could. Then double wham! a higher bill. Beyond high. She promised more payments and I'll take them but since I can't risk another phone bill like that the decision was made, quite easily this time. Her phone is off.
I don't know how this will end. Worst case scenario I lose my cell phone, go back to a landline, and make payments on her bill forever. Best case scenario, she pays what she owes and has the phone turned back in her name. And I get to keep my phone. But I know I'm not the only person to have this happen.
Sometimes I find comfort in other people's experiences and hearing how they survived them. I know this kind of thing has been common in the past with people, so I decided to google "parents" and "high cell phone bills." Guess what, people are out there talking about it. So I'm definitely not alone.
So what does this have to do with needs? Clearly I needed to be reminded that (1) things can always get worse so be grateful, and (2) other people are dealing with problems I haven't had to worry about, and (3) we all have a lot in common. We're all dealing with something. The trick is to learn from it and use our problems to bring us closer together, sometimes by communicating, instead of letting them isolate us from others. All things I clearly need to learn.
According to various diet philosophies, a dieter should plan for those snacking needs, but I have a feeling there's not much at a dollar store that would meet those requirements. Maybe pretzels.
I expect a lot of us have had to make some choices about wants and needs through the years—and at times try to help others—but I'm thinking not just about what we decide we need but what Heavenly Father knows we need. I've decided that for some reason what I feel I need at the moment isn't what He feels I need. So I'm trying to figure out what He wants me to learn and why I need what He's giving me (or just allowing me to receive through life's challenges).
I don't know the answer to that yet. Some lessons seem a bit obvious. I really like and need my space but I'm currently sharing my living quarters with two brothers and a sister-in-law. I like structure, but my work right now is mostly freelance so I have to create my own structure, something I'm not good at. Last week I finally reached out to some friends and felt their warmth and support in a wonderful way. Clearly there are some good lessons for me to learn here.
Last week I also had an experience that I think is quite common for parents but one I was fortunate enough to miss out on, at least until now. A teen's ridiculously high cell phone bill. My brother and his daughter are on my cell phone plan and my niece asked if we could add her half-sister, my step-niece. She's a single mom and a hard worker and though I felt it was risky I thought a mom needs a phone. It seemed fine for a few months but then, wham! A $200 bill on top of the regular bill. I debated giving her a second chance. She didn't know her calls were so expensive, she said, and she promised to pay up when she could. Then double wham! a higher bill. Beyond high. She promised more payments and I'll take them but since I can't risk another phone bill like that the decision was made, quite easily this time. Her phone is off.
I don't know how this will end. Worst case scenario I lose my cell phone, go back to a landline, and make payments on her bill forever. Best case scenario, she pays what she owes and has the phone turned back in her name. And I get to keep my phone. But I know I'm not the only person to have this happen.
Sometimes I find comfort in other people's experiences and hearing how they survived them. I know this kind of thing has been common in the past with people, so I decided to google "parents" and "high cell phone bills." Guess what, people are out there talking about it. So I'm definitely not alone.
So what does this have to do with needs? Clearly I needed to be reminded that (1) things can always get worse so be grateful, and (2) other people are dealing with problems I haven't had to worry about, and (3) we all have a lot in common. We're all dealing with something. The trick is to learn from it and use our problems to bring us closer together, sometimes by communicating, instead of letting them isolate us from others. All things I clearly need to learn.
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